Live Free

This Makes Sense

"We may not have wings or leaves, but we humans do have words.  Language is our gift and responsibility. I've come to think of writing as an act of reciprocity with the living land.  Words to remember old stories, words to tell new ones, stories that bring science and spirit back together to nurture our becoming people made of corn."  

I've slowly and deliciously made my way through a book of essays by Robin Wall Kimmerer, entitled Braiding Sweetgrass. I'm struggling with words to convey how meaningful her writing felt to me.  It is so beautiful and poignant and it put words to a language that my soul speaks but which I have such difficulty expressing. My book is earmarked in numerous places of passages that struck me as true and beautiful. I especially appreciated the one above as I've been pondering how to continue to write. Sometimes I feel so scared to write - of not having anything to say - of feeling so rusty and inarticulate that these written words do nothing to communicate all that is inside. Alas, fear is paralyzing, and I want to be done with it. So, as many times as I've said it before, I'll say it once more -  that my intention is to show up here. 

These last few months of uprooting and rerooting ourselves have been all sorts of exciting, confusing, blissful, and heart-wrenching.  However, little by little, day by day, our days here make sense.  I feel so much more grounded now that we are settled into our home.  Last week as I was trimming an invasive vine out of our meadow, I felt so much contentment tending the land, and doing my small part to show my gratitude for all the beauty and life Mother Earth gives.  This morning, as I raked ruts out of our driveway (a huge storm washed through us yesterday), I felt purpose caring for our homestead created by other's hands and hearts.  I feel incredibly honored to have inherited this place and I want to be a good steward to it. When I'm on the porch, mixing up herbal concoctions, or reading in the hammock, I feel peace. I think to myself, this makes sense.  This is the life I've longed for.  This is the way I've dreamed of spending my days. I am home.  

 

 

 

We have October.

Maybe it's the impending seasonal shift. The intense summertime heat dulls me. Inspiration, curiosity, the hunt for the those moments that make me feel alive and free dissolve away.  However, like clockwork, autumn settles into me with a bite. I feel a bit more of all the emotions. I'm excited to wake up each day to greet the sunrise. I've got ideas for little projects. Hope bubbles up from deep within my heart. Dreams whisper in my ear. 

And so, I've made it to October, once again. Sweet, soul arousing October. I'm savoring the cool mornings, the golden light, the shadows flittering around our home, my slippers, and warm cups of tea. Of discovering the world alongside my daughter.  Literature, history, fairy tales, music, knitting, and poetry.  My joy of learning these days rivals my years as an undergraduate liberal arts major. Except, the wisdom I've earned, makes the experience all the more rich and meaningful. And if you throw a healthy heap of nature into the mix, you've got a life worth living, for sure. These homeschoolish days full of books, art supplies,  gardens, wilderness and the shade of great trees have been much needed medicine for my soul. I am so very grateful for every bit of it. And quite honestly, I hope she is enjoying herself as much as I am! 

And of course, a big, bold disclaimer should be attached right about now.  Of course, life is messy, hard, confusing, and heartbreaking at times. We, like any other human family, lack for nothing in this department of struggles. Yet, we have each other. We have the privilege of a new day. We have perspective. And we have October!

 

 

 

Changes

We have been on the cusp of change for awhile now. Soon, a clear line will be drawn. This spring has been so lovely. So much has happened in so many little and big ways. With more still to come.  

Birds built nest, eggs were layed, nestlings nourished,  and fledglings flew. Caterpillers captured, fennel chewed down, chrysalis's formed, butterflies emerged, and then released.  Poppies came and went. And so did the bluebonnets. There were larkspurs and sweet peas, jasmine, and evening primrose. Delicate, sweet smelling beauties. Oh April was delightful. 

The rains have come. The river is flowing. I can't remember the last time there was so much water in these parts. You should see how vibrant the green is these days. Electric. We are studying pond life because well, we have ponds again. 

If you'd judge me by the looks of my yard, you just might think I've fallen off the deep end. It's wild out there right now. Crazy wild. Thick stands of firewheels galore. In both the front and the back yard. Don't ask. I swear I sprinkled Black Prairie Mix last fall. Otherwise, I have two beds of beans, one bed of tomatoes, another of peppers, and three of garlic and onions.  All happy so far.   I have around 20 lavender bushes started as tiny twigs two years ago. They are so very full  and blooming. The stuff dreams are made of, really. But now with all this rain, I pray their feet stay dry enough to survive! And then there is the sunflower situation. They are tall and abundant.  They create a little forest of their own.  

Our neighbors left us a few weeks ago. It's been quiet without them here. Their daughter and our daughter grew up together these last three and a half years. And now, it's just Bea and I during the day. It's funny how we adapt though. Each day is less and less quiet as we get use to the new now. 

We've closed the chapter on adoption. No more waiting. Life is calling our little family and we are beyond ready.

 In two weeks, I'll close down The Natural Child for good. It's been fun, but I'm daydreaming of what's beyond.  I am certain of  a few small details (well, with as much certainty as life throws at ya): the porch will acquire a picnic table (adult size, thank you!), a string or two of twinkly lights, some hanging and non-hanging plants, and maybe, just maybe, a cool reclining lawn chair.   

Otherwise, the plan for this summer is to unwind, unwind, and unwind some more. To sit on my porch. To sip sun tea. To bask in the sun. To listen for birdsong, cicadas, and crickets. To trim sunflowers for tabletop jars. And to breathe. 

Hoping all is well on your end. And as always, thanks for stopping by. 

XO,

Nichole

 

 

Enchanted Rock

Do you ever have moments where you wonder what in the hell you are doing here living civilly amongst the peoples? As if our comfortable lives complete with shelter, family, health, routines, and traditions are just a collection of onion skins layered one atop the other. And that if we took the time to peel away, we'd all revert to the wild place deep within.  We humans are adaptive aren't we? 

Yesterday, we climbed to the top of Enchanted Rock. The girl soared, like a phoenix. She's so strong, brave, and wild. I'm always a bit flabbergasted by her spirit, and by the daunting thought of raising her up right...to honor the warrior within her while taming her beast just enough to provide the tools she'll need to manage her existence in this civilized world.  I'm pretty sure that is a big important piece of my magnum opus. 

Honestly, when I witness her in her element, out in nature, doing big things, climbing granite rocks, steering bossy horses with finesse and confidence, I often feel that my soul is attached to her 45 pound body.  Less obvious to pin-point in day to day existence of our homely living, there is something unruly about the two of us -- she reminds me to pay attention to those corners of our beings.

I spent the best day out there with Beatrix, Byron, and our dear friend Ryan. There is something humbling, something truly spiritual about trampling upon a landscape 1 billion years old.  Most succinctly, at those moments, do I realize that we are just mere particles of this Whole.  All that ails us, worries us, and darkens us is fleeting, and all that delivers delight, joy, and blessing to us, is too.  

 

And for the sake of having a little fun on a Sunday afternoon here's a little ole school Ani that never fails to make me feel brave and kick-ass - and 19 years old again. 

 

xoxoxo,

Nichole

Spark Joy

I'm feeling girlie and maybe a little young and hopeful and giddy about the return of sun. So, excuse me for a moment while I take myself not too seriously and just ramble about clothes! 

I've always enjoyed fashion. As a young girl, I remember having quite particular taste. Certain items stand out in my mind: When I was 8 years old, I remember loving my red high-top chucks and bright yellow jeans. I've always loved overalls and had various pairs growing up. Then there are the vivid and fond memories of my railroad stripe bell bottoms, a lady bug vest, white daisy dukes with the botanical type butterfly print, peasant dresses and combat boots.... Oh yes, getting dressed was always a fun form of self expression.  This continued on into womanhood. About a decade or so ago, I fell hard for vintage-inspired dresses and skirts. Stopping and browsing through Anthropologie after a tiring day of teaching was music to my soul. I just loved meandering through, touching everything, fondling fabrics, enjoying the scents of their fancy candles burning. Once or twice a year, I even splurged on a pretty dress or two from there.  

And then I became a mother.

At which point, lack of time and budget collided to create the perfect storm of what is bound to be  remembered as an utterly styless era of my time. When I became a mother, my love of clothing took the backseat at least when it came to dressing me. Bea has had her share of adorable items during this time and honestly, it felt like a dream for the chance to dress my little girl. Little girls don't stay little for long and I always knew my time dressing her was limited. So I let myself have a good bit of fun. I have no regrets!! Yet over the past five years my clothes have become outdated, threadbare, stretched, faded, and just sloppy. 

Well, over the past year or so, I've been slowly trying to change this by choosing items that fit my lifestyle. I want my wardrobe to be durable and comfortable. It needs to be washable. I can't be bothered with dry clean items. I also still want my updated wardrobe to be pretty and femine. I love natural fibers most and will rarely budge into the synthetic realm.  I'm not a trendy person. I want to choose items that will look lovely today and well into the future. I have no interest in keeping up with fashion forecast. In short, I am looking for well-cut items that will help to make me feel beautiful and like myself -- not just another dishelved mom! I want to pay attention to me again!  I know what I like and if I commit to not settling for cheap Target t-shirts or the equivalent and instead invest in fewer classic pieces, I can create a simple, consise wardrobe that will serve me whether I'm roadtripping across the west, tending to the garden, tidying up the home, or going out to dinner with the family. 

My little on-going fashion dialogue that I've had with myself this past year finally reached a new level of clarity this past weekend when after reading a fun chapter on clothing in Marie Kondo's The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up. Understand, I do not have a large wardrobe. I have never needed or wanted a walk-in closet.  Even so, after reading her chapter on clothing, I was inspired to declutter my closet even more! I went through my stash of t-shirts, tank tops, tights, and socks and within minutes had two garbage bags collected of things that did not spark joy. That's a lot of stuff that I had no business  holding on to. The next day I dropped the two bags off at the thrift store and I have had no regrets! 

I can start fresh, slowly building a wardrobe that is representative and purposeful to my lifestyle. Also, my joy is sparked as I fall asleep in a bedroom that is sparse and not overflowing with unloved clothes stuffed away behind doors and drawers and baskets. 

One of my all time favorite quotes is "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you've imagined," by Henry Thoreau. 

Sometimes, we have to plod away in that direction by cleaning out our socks and t-shirt drawers. 

Here's to finding my way back to me (and therefore my dreams) in 2015. 

Happy New Year!

Hello, hello! Happy New Year! I'm finally getting a moment to check in on the blog.  Our holidays were as good as they get. Lots of family, lots of friends, a couple of walks through woods, gumbo, pralines, Dean-O's pizza ( a shout out to my favorite Lafayette peeps) a new pair of wicked good slippers, long days doing nothing but binging on HGTV (I have a slight obsession with Fixer Upper). It was really wonderful. I'm so, so grateful for my big ole family and my busy holidays. 

Oh, but now it is January. The holiday clutter and the holiday calendar is put away and I'm savoring the space so dearly.  I've come to love this month -- especially here in Texas. We get a good run of sunshine and 60 degrees at this time of year and it feels so necessary, so needed, so refreshing.  It can feel like a preview of spring with just the right combination  of drear and sun to coast us into the warmer months.  

I have so many hopes and dreams for 2015 and beyond but my screen time is limited for now.  Mostly, I wish for many moments of laughter and joy and good health. I hope to eat enough fruits and vegetables and to get a sensible 8 hours of sleep per night. I hope to continue to declutter all of which does not serve me (whether it's stuff, thoughts, feelings, etc).  I hope to continue to find time to pop into this space if for no other reason than as a place to record our family happenings and my rambling thoughts on life as I know it.  There is more, but it's getting late, and I'm tired. Such is life.

Wishing you all the best that 2015 has to offer.

XO,

Nichole

 

Here and There

Do you know of this children's book? It's one of my favorites and ranks up there with classics like Miss Rumphius and The Giving Tree. It's about a little boy growing up in the mountains of Tibet. He likes to fly kites and dreams of travel, of different lands, and of adventure. Alas, he grows up to be a woodcutter, gets married, has children, and never leaves his valley.  He grows old, and one day, he dies. The Great Spirit offers him a choice about how he should like to continue. His soul chooses the Milky Way, and then chooses a star which happens to be our Sun.  The story progresses as the little boy's soul makes choices on his next life lived until he ultimately chooses to return back to the same valley that he grew up in. Full circle. 

We all suffer and we are all broken in variable cases of severity. Oftentimes, over the course of my life, I've grieved over situations that seemed incomprehensible: abandonment by my father, infertility, an on-going struggle with worry and anxiety. Sometimes, I've internally lamented why my soul was plopped down in the dirty South when I had such wanderlust for other lands and experiences.  I have not always been at peace with my story. 

It is a constant battle to remember to embrace the imperfections in ourselves and our histories. I must always remember that I am here for good reason.

We spent a few days last week in sublime, magical New Mexico. Something about that place deeply speaks to my soul. Seemingly, I belong there.  I could live in an adobe cabin or a yurt in a high desert mesa valley. I could hunt for rocks and explore trails and get lost and kiss the sky and take pictures of the sunset and sunrise every single day. I could get use to the a new kind of quiet and stillness that can't be touched in small town suburbia... the coyotes howling in the night and the call of ravens from precarious rocks atop mountains.  I could  stargaze and find myself befuddled by the sight of the Milky Way, completely lost and entirely found. How could all this be? How could it not be?

Instead, my magic brews in this ordinary place. And for now, there must be peace and gratitude. 

Yes, I protect my dreamy far-flung soul like a mama bear. Never do I not want to be amazed. Never do I not want to do my humble part to share the profound beauty of this existence. This is, afterall, my one wild and precious life! I do not take it lightly! But I know enough to realize it serves me not to turn that awe and curiosity and wonder into anything that resembles discontentment or bitterness. Oh is it ever a fine line to walk between honoring the stirrings of the heart and finding peace in the present. 

I am here for a reason. Maybe it isn't for the climate or the geography.  Perhaps it's my task to look more closely for the inconspicuous sublime. To pay attention. Where could it be hiding?  In the face of the limestone riverbeds that run through our town, the blazing mulhy grass seed heads, or a rare thundering downpour that arrives in the middle of the night?

All of those places and more.

It comes to me in real life supportive connections with kind, smart, creative souls I have the pleasure to surround myself with each and every day. It booms with exuberance and passion as it pours out of my daughter's every cell of being.  Without here, none of this would grace my days. I am so grateful for this ordinary life. Of small town grocery stores and librarians who know you by name. Of flat land and gentle rolling hills, of our little blue cottage and our slow to realize gardening attempts. Of the priviledge to currate a childhood worth savoring. Of a life abundant in love and simple gifts.

There is meaning in all of it and I know my story will make perfect sense one day. 

 

onwards.

Autumn is on its slow way. I need her right now. August arrived with a bang, leaving me parched. September has been more of the same though there was a hint of change this past Saturday. Yes, I even wore socks (wool ones, I know) and had a cup of hot chai. I felt alive again! 

I've been amping up the self-care routine because it's been a humdinger of a year, emotionally and mentally speaking. Fear can conjure up the most dreadful feelings of paralysis. And I'm so done with all of it.  Life is too short. 

My simple self-care regime is as follows:

1)evening walk every other night. (Byron and I take turns doing bedtime with Bea). 

2)15 minutes of yoga everyday. 

3)handwork to fend off the idle hands/must check Facebook syndrome. Right now, I'm making Alicia Paulsons's cute little bunny. 

4)audiobooks. Although many people love Amazon's Audible, I'm going ole school for now by borrowing Bea's walkman and making use of the local library's selection. I'm pretty sure there are enough classics that I haven't read to keep me occupied for a long time.  Right now, I'm listening to Little Women. Marme is such an inspiration.

5)planning mini-vacations here and there. About a year ago, I created a small savings plan for travel. Saving a small bit of change every month for travelling purposes has been a game changer. We don't save enough to be able to afford  big trips. Airfare is pretty much out of the question, but road trips and camping are totally doable. Next month we have two excursions planned: camping on the beach and a road trip to New Mexico which involves a yurt, remote mountains, and a big ole New Mexico sky!  Travelling is fuel for my soul!! 

6)I have a few more items on my to-do list that I want to make a conscience effort to check off. A mish-mash of items to be sure... like learning how to use video and wireless conectivity on my camera, how to knit a cowl, and getting current with our family photo album situation.  Oh, I also want to do more photography work and that might mean I go out on my own or search for a mentor. Either way, it feels daunting but I know I need to move forward on that big important item. 

I'm tired of feeling like I am only treading water. I am needing to be more purposeful and mindful of my everyday living. I want to take advantage of my time here! 

Alright, I've had writer's block for so very long now and though this post isn't really me getting down to the nitty gritty of it all, it's a start. 

xo,

Nichole

Longings

Sometimes, I let the longing into my heart. Do you know that feeling? The one that aches....yearns. The one responsible for the audible sighs at times when the person next to you might be wondering if they did something to perturb you. No. It was just me, letting my thoughts slip away into my daydreams. 

My daydreams of space and quiet and rhythm and natural abundance. Of green. And breezes. Of dappling light filtered by thick deciduous forest. Of tall grasses and open windows. Cycles. Seasons. Reins and barns. The smell of fresh hay.  Blooms -- each taking their turn. The rainbow working its way backward. Purple and blues in the tender, sweet spring. Yellow, oranges, and red in the heat of summer. And then those warm hues blanketing us all for a just snap again come autumn. Chores. Laundry on the line. A woodstove and it's wood pile. Wool blankets and books. Tea and coffee. Soup and French bread. Candlelight and family. Bedtime stories. Magic. Secrets. Fleeting childhood. 

Yes, sometimes I dream of a time and place that is not here. A life of long ago. It doesn't help that I've been reimmersed (this time through audiobooks) to Laura Ingalls' Little House novels and my own little nightyly addiction of Lark Rise to Candleford. Oh, some of us are always searching for simpler times, I suppose. Yet, those times were anything but simple. Maybe fewer options: feast vs. famine, health vs. sickness, rich vs. poor, etc. I must believe that life is  hard and trying and beautiful and touching no matter  time and place. 

When I'm immersed in my own little humble homestead, surrounded by distractions - noise, traffic, blighted lots all around, I find peace in my outdoor nooks.  Little seeds planted over the seasons since we've moved here slowly sprout and thrive. There's so much more work to be done. Native grasses to sow, garden beds to expand upon, climbing roses to train up the fence and arbor. Rain barrels. And more trees. Slowly, it comes. But right now, there are tufts and tufts of poppies itching to burst into bloom, irises growing so tall and blooming so boldly. Thyme, oregano, and lavender anchoring it all! Sunflowers growing everywhere. Baby fruit trees sprouting their first green leaves. Poulets and hens pecking and scratching and both sets looking so healthy and content. Native perrenials coming back to life after a long winter.  Bees arriving next month!! 

Ah....I may not live in my daydreams. There is no cabin in the woods. Or English garden. Or log cabin on the prairie. Or woodstove in the winter. There is us.  There is our little house. There is our little lawn. Our hands. Some seeds. And a lot of try. To make our days, our place in this world, just a little more beautiful and a little more interesting.  

Hello 2014

Hello. How are you? Warm? Trying to be? This cold snap seems to be the big news on everyone's mind (at least in the States). 

I'm sitting here, typing, with a big cup of tea next to me, and some John Coltrane playing on the record player. Nice, right? I'm not complaining. 

Ah...January. You feel good, big chill and all. Yesterday was our first day back to business as usual and I must say the holidays were quite lovely. December, was, for the most part, unhectic and slow, laced with minimal feelings of obligation or guilt on my part. I like to think we kept our noses to the ground, blinders up, and did our own thing sans mainstream culture. Sure, through our best of intentions there were moments of overwhelm and overstimulation for the youngin', but there were even more of the warm and fuzzy, peaceful and calm, I can't believe I'm here at this point in my life making wholesome memories with my offspring sorts. 

And the weeks following Christmas were divine. A bit mild. A bit cold. Very little interaction outside the home. The three of us really getting some good quality time to connect with one another. Days and days of flow. When everyone is doing there own thing, but no one is being brushed aside. Needs are being met. We feel good. Our true beings getting their well-deserved chance to shine. 

Those are the days. 

So, of course, I've been thinking about 2013 and 2014. Evaluating what worked and what didn't. Contemplating what change is necessary moving forward. One thing I've learned over the  years is that small changes make the greatest impact. For instance, last year, I got out of the habit of drinking a morning smoothie. Which means, I got out of the habit of nurturing my body with a healthy breakfast. I spent the year feeling sluggish and irritable by early afternoon. So this year, I need to work on making smoothies again every morning. My body deserves it! And I know I can do because I did it for years prior to the last one. 

Another tweak to my routine is charging my phone in the kitchen at night as opposed to charging it in the bedroom (which leads to checking emails, instagram, facebook, etc. late at night). I do this sometimes, and on those nights, I read more, wind down more easily, and sleep more soundly. 

As for excercise, Byron and I are signed up to do yoga together on Thursday night. What a treat! A mini-date once a week. A great benefit of mamas working together to watch each other's children! And the studio is walking distance to us, so if the yoga wasn't enough an evening walk to and fro is the cherry on top. 

In some ways 2013 was a year of endurance for me. Of really settling into and finding the confidence to be my true self. To come to terms with the parts of  adulthood that fill me up and those that deplete me. And knowing when to let go of what's not working.

I feel a sense of peace in my path right now that I'm not sure I've ever felt. Sure, hardtimes will come. There is no way around that. It's easy to feel peaceful when all is right in the world. But all in all, I feel really hopeful. Really excited. Really grateful. Really young and full of life.  

2014 -- let's do this!