Walking the Lonesome Valley

Tree in a Lonesome Valley“You’ve got to walk that lonesome valley by yourself,” I found myself singing as I walked alone in the snow the other day. Here’s a snippet.

And I was walking along, feeling so alive and so delighted be reminded of how important solitude is to my creative process. When I was a lonelier person (a fat, smart, Jewish girl in a small town high school…you do the math) my solitude came “naturally” and my art (mostly some very bad poetry and a few equally bad songs) was by my side when I felt like no one else was. Being able to spill my guts in words and in music was a vital refuge for my lonely girl soul, and that lonesome valley was, I have no doubt, an important training ground for the songwriter I became.

“Yes,” I thought to myself crunching through the snow, “I’ve got to walk this lonesome valley by myself.” And then I thought, “I can’t wait to share this insight about solitude in a Scoutie Girl post!” And then I laughed at myself.

And that movement from aloneness to sharing sums up what so much of the creative life is about for me. We want to connect, we want to share, we want our art (whatever form it takes) to reach all the way to the heart of the other.

And yet, in order to make the art that I can then offer up, I have to be willing to walk the lonesome valley by myself.

As Woody Guthrie’s version of the song goes:

Mamma and daddy loves you dearly,
Sister does and brother, too,
They may beg you to go with them,
But they cannot go for you.

I am grateful that solitude is now something I have to seek out when I want it. And I have also, more and more, been enjoying the work of songwriting itself as a community process.

But at their core, my songs are born in solitude; I lose my sense of connection with Source very quickly when I don’t make the time to simply be alone.

So whatever lonesome valley you walk — by choice or under duress — may it become a source of wonderful treasures that you can bring back and share with the rest of us.

Bonus: Here’s a version of Pete Seeger “lining out the hymn” as he likes to call it (teaching a song as he sings it, just like he taught me and lots of others how to do).

Get Out of Your Head and Into the Moment

Sunday Soup & Biscuits

Baking and cooking are great ways to give your brain a rest and enjoy the present.

I’m an ideas person. I live in a world of options, movement, and possibility, with thoughts churning merrily most of my waking hours. I love it.

On the flip side, with so many thoughts flitting about, it’s easy for me to get comfortable in this cerebral space and remain “stuck in my head.” I get so excited and caught up in my projects that it’s sometimes hard for me to switch modes and experience the physical, present moment in front of me.

Sound familiar?

Sometimes our brain needs a rest, and our body and senses need to take center stage.

If you’re feeling uninspired or overwhelmed, or just a need to connect with the here & now, it may be time to make the switch.

These five simple activities have helped me get out of my head and connect to the present, physical world. They may be useful to you, too.

Move Your Body
Take a walk, stretch, or break out the tunes and dance. Hit the gym, take a yoga class, or dig up your garden. Find something that’s convenient, and works well for you.

Putter
I am a big fan of puttering. Tidy up the living room, put the clothes away, do the dishes. Go through the pile of papers on the table, file the obvious, sweep the floor. Meander in your physical space and see what small task calls you.

Make Something
Paint, cook, slice & dice. Sew, hammer, bake, sink your hands in the dirt. Draw, knit, or pull out the sander. Use your hands to work with textures, colors, and scents.

Touch Someone, or Another Living Being
Hold a loved one’s hand, pet the dog, feel the bark of a tree or the leaves of your favorite plant. Get a hug or, better yet, give a hug. Focus on your sense of touch and delight in the exchange of life energy.

Sit With Your Surroundings
Sit comfortably and straight, close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Feel the surface beneath you: the floor beneath your feet, the chair on which you’re sitting. Feel the sensations on your skin, hear the sounds — near and far — and inhale and take in the scents. Become aware of your surroundings. Stay this way as long as you’d like; when you feel ready, wiggle your toes & fingers, and slowly open your eyes.

How do you make the switch from the cerebral world to the physical?

How do you get “out of your head” and into the present moment?

Why You Shouldn’t Marry the Man of Your Dreams

image by mudcard  - click for more info

The scene: my wedding reception.

Toasts have just been completed by my dad, the maid of honor, the best man, and freshly minted husband. I unexpectedly grab the mic.

“Zach was scheduled to give the final toast tonight, but his days of having the last word are over.”

The crowd goes wild. The laughter dies down. People shift in their seats and drink from their Mason jars.

“After we got engaged, Zach playfully asked me if he was the man of my dreams. I thought for a second and said, ‘Nope. I never could have thought you up.’ Zach, you are unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and unlike anyone I could have predicted for myself. So, no, you are not the man of my dreams. But you are the man that I love.”

Why am I sharing this story, and why did the table of bridesmaids produce enough tears to fill a punch bowl?

Because there is extraordinary power in being open to the unexpected.

It requires vulnerability. It means experiencing rather than controlling.

Can you stay open to the unexpected?

Because sometimes your imagination just can’t do justice to what’s in store for you.

In the comments, I’d love to hear if you’ve been pleasantly surprised by something you couldn’t predict.

Gathering light,

 

Cobblestone Travels: Embracing Freedom

I’ve been home from my whirlwind of an adventure for a little over a week, and I’m still walking around intoxicated by what surrounds me and trying to be sure to take it all in. I needed that trip more than I had known, and it has reeled me back in to the true version of myself — the happy content girl that lives within me, that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. But she’s back, and plans to take 2013 by storm!

So where in the world did I go? I started in Amsterdam, wandered over to Brussels, spent Christmas in Lille, went to Luxembourg, got to my last stop in Cologne, where plans changed and I ended up also going to Frankfurt and Heidelberg, before making it back to Amsterdam to fly home.

It was a quick sixteen days, but it’s not so much about the places I went, but the people and interactions I had while there.

In Brussels, I spent the end of the world with an Australian girl who had been traveling for 20 months. When she got low on money she worked at a pub in London, took care of dogs in Austria, gardened in Ireland, or worked at a hostel in Spain. She was full of stories and spirit, and I feel so very fortunate that our paths crossed and I got to wander around Brussels with her for a day.

When I arrived at my hostel in Cologne, I met a group of people that I spent the evening with and who were continuing on to Frankfurt and Heidelberg. They had originally had eight people in their group, but one had dropped out last minute, so they suggested I tag along. Now, typically I’m a planner, but sometimes I like to just wing it. So I decided to fly by the seat of my pants, and hopped trains with these strangers, and had this three day whirlwind romance with a boy I’m probably not going to forget any time soon.

I had decided before I left for this trip that I needed a word for 2013, something to serve as a reminder throughout the year. So as I traveled I kept this in mind, trying to think of a word that seemed to fit. And one day as I was walking down the street, looking down at the cobblestone beneath my feet, I realized cobblestone was my word. I have always loved cobblestone streets, how they’re uneven and imperfect in various places and how that makes them all the more perfect.

This whole trip reminded me of how happy the little things make me, reminded me of what really matters, and how I need to embrace what makes me happy.

Cobblestone. It will remind me to be open to opportunity, and let my path lead me where it may.

It will remind me that things are what I make them, so even though I’m home and back to day to day life, it will remind me that I can create adventure at home as well.

If  you have ever thought about doing solo travel, or if it has never even crossed your mind, I urge you to just consider it. Sure, it’s not for everyone, but the opportunity for growth and discovery that it allows is incredible. Some days are quieter than others, some days you’ve made friends you spend the day with, but you get to shape each day and it makes you just feel so free.

Tell me, what makes you feel free?

Enough to Give

She Held Love In Her Hands by Altered Muse Art on etsy

Halfway through January, the New Year resolution talk is starting to wind down. I’m not getting as many fitness deals in my inbox, and writing “2013” on documents at work has become second nature. Instead of making resolutions this year, I jumped on board with the “one little word” plan. In choosing one word for the year, the hope is to set an intention that guides your actions throughout the coming months. I think of it as a self-created lighthouse, something to look toward that will help keep me on a path I’ve chosen for myself.

I threw out a lot of words when I was trying to choose — lots that centered on healing my wounds, sparking or nurturing my creativity, re-centering my life – but a different sort of word also kept popping up. I kept pushing it down and thinking of other words, but that one little word wouldn’t stop.

The word was GIVE, and since it wouldn’t leave me alone, I finally gave into it.

My wife and I got married last September in a splendid weekend filled with so much love and joy that we never wanted it to end. We spent the first two days of our Hawaii honeymoon talking about every little magical moment. On a drive through the beautiful landscape, I remarked that I was excited to send all the thank you cards because I felt so grateful for all the people who had travelled to celebrate with us and make our wedding so special. My wife agreed, and she also said she’d like to focus more on giving back in general in the coming year. After all the blessings that had been bestowed on us, she wanted to spend more time volunteering and giving to charity and sharing some of what we had received.

While I had been so excited about thanking our wedding guests, I was surprised by my reaction to this sentiment from my wife. I can’t remember what I said — probably some half-hearted agreement. But what I felt inside was, “NO! I want to focus on buying a house this year, on starting a family, on growing my blog, on writing, on eating better, on starting an exercise routine, on improving my photography.” I wanted to get myself and my family exactly where I wanted them to be. I didn’t have the energy to think about giving back.

So I didn’t. I didn’t even focus on writing all those thank you cards. Instead, I kept thinking about and analyzing my own life. I kept trying to figure myself out and pull it all together. And when the year came to a close a few months later, I felt deflated. 2012 had been a year filled with a thousand wonderful things, all of which I had longed for. And yet, I didn’t feel the resounding peace and contentment I thought I would. No, instead I continued to look out toward the horizon at all the things left to reach, all the things I still thought I needed to feel settled.

It was from that place that the word GIVE rose up in me. And it was from that place that I pushed it down. “I’m all used up,” I thought to myself. “I have no energy left for giving. I’m maxed out.” And it was true. All that energy focused on seeking, striving, attaining was leaving me empty. But from somewhere deep inside, a little voice was telling me that perhaps more attaining wasn’t the answer.

I will not sell all my earthly belongings this year and become a professional volunteer. I am not abandoning all my desires for my own life. But I am planning a small shift in how I spend my energy and, to some extent, my money. 2013 will be the year that I step out of myself and into the world around me. It will be the year that I notice other people, send more thank you cards and “just because” cards, the year that I seriously consider my finances and make intentional charitable contributions, that I carve out time to volunteer, call my friends, respond to an email that asks for a few hours of help with moving or packing or canning or harvesting vegetables.

It will be the year that I remember that I have not only what I need but a little extra to give.

My first step was declaring 2013 a no-clothes-shopping year. The fact is that I have absolutely all the clothes that I need — and more. But I was spending a significant amount of time (and sometimes money) on online clothing sites thinking about filling out my closet or buying the latest trend. It’s a silly little thing, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with clothes shopping. But turning off that option has created welcome space in my brain, my schedule, and my bank account — space that I can redistribute in a way that falls more in line with my intentions for the year.

I harbor no illusions that this will be a year of selflessness or sainthood. In fact, I know exactly the opposite is true.

This year I will give — give back, give love, give thanks, give more — precisely because I know I need to for myself.

I will give because I don’t want to feel empty, because I want to connect with other people and feel like a citizen of this world.

I will give because I’ve realized that spending all my energy thinking about everything I was missing left me blind to everything that I had.

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If you have thought of choosing one little word for 2013 and haven’t done so yet, it’s not too late to set up your own little lighthouse. Setting an intention for the year can start whenever you’re ready. And while GIVE is the right word for me this year, it might not be (and probably isn’t) the right word for you. Some folks out there already spend all their time and energy giving and need to remember to take some time to do the exact opposite and focus on their own desires. I encourage you to spend some time considering what word is right for you.