Late June and little to say

I don't really know what to write to accompany this photo.

In fact, I've already written and deleted about six paragraphs. I'm really having a hard time, here. Really.

What's to say?

Where am I in this journey, this week of this year, in this project? (I don't have a good answer today, but no closer to acceptance, still loaded with faults.) What does this say about me? (That I plucked some of the prolific wildflowers out of their living quarters and put them in my hair.)

Really, I'm lost in thought and possibilities today. The Supreme Court made a decision yesterday morning that changes the landscape of this country. This means my brother's marriage is legal in every state, including his own. This means people I know and care about can marry the people they love. This is monumental. I guess I feel like being a little quiet and taking it all in.

What I Need

Today I discovered that somewhere inside of me is a needy little girl. A little girl who wants to fit in and be cherished but who long ago learned, or taught herself, that needing and wanting were signs of weakness.

So she pulled away, folded inside of herself and swatted her own hand every time the need arose. She stopped asking. She decided that anyone who loved her was wrong. That she should know better than  anyone what was really inside.

She was wrong.

I was wrong.

I am needy. I am weak. I am giving. I am strong.

Today I realized that I need to ask for what I want.

I have to ask for what I want.

I have to hug that little girl and stop swatting her hand.

She is precious, and cherished.

She is necessary.

And so am I.

Dreaming

A few years ago I was told that the dream of my life, my sacred dream, has always been within me. Held safely in a secret chamber of my heart. That I alone had the power to unlock that chamber and begin to nurture that dream. All I had to do was allow myself to remember. To stop thinking so hard and to begin feeling.

This was not an easy task for me. Words I heard growing up had encased my heart and caused me to forget my dreams.

"Don't get your hopes up."

"We don't want you to be disappointed."

I know these words were spoken out of love and concern, but they planted seeds of fear and skepticism. Then they became harsher words that I told myself.

"Dreams are unrealistic and stupid."

"You can't have that."

"You can't do that."

I lived this way for many years. Managing to still make a wonderful life, with a husband and children, friends and travel, a life that was full of love and enjoyment. But I didn't dream. I lived in a world of safety and comfort, not trying for fear of failing. Fear that made it difficult to even contemplate the idea of a sacred dream.

But something happened five years ago that helped me to dig deep into my soul and figure out what I really wanted in life. I opened up that secret chamber and decided that I was worthy of dreams. That dreams are not only possible, but necessary. For all of us.

If you had asked me if I was a dreamer five years and four months ago. my answer would have been a resounding 'No'.

Now though, I not only dream, but I share those dreams with others. I bring those dreams to fruition. Some are still sitting, waiting to happen. Some might never happen. But you know what?

That's ok.

That's life, lived to its fullest.
Where fear is met with persistence.
Success is met with gratitude.
Failure is met with grace.

Where dreams are welcome. Always.

How dare I be uninspired?!

Out of two separate photo shoots today in two gorgeous places, I got absolutely nothing I was happy with. First, I wanted dappled light in the forest and I tried and tried and just could not make that work.

So, then I thought of a shot in the nice early evening sun, with the lake and grasses in the background, and why not add my favorite person being in the whole world (my dog) since I'm feeling a little not-so-great about myself and, of course, she's super cute. Only the dog was utterly recalcitrant and unhelpful. Plus, you know, when you want the natural light to illuminate your face, you kind of have to be actually facing it, which doesn't make for the most attractive facial expressions. Hence the closed eyes and pinched expression.

Sigh.

Jane talked me down from the ledge on today's failed attempts. There are more days in the week--I could have scrapped today's shots and tried again tomorrow or over the weekend. But she reminded me that we committed to bad photos, too (whether compositionally lousy or just lousy to us), and so yes, I do like to honor my commitments.

Hello, I'm Lisa, and I love hooping

I started hula hooping a couple of years ago. I saw a video, it looked fun, I bought tubing and made a hoop and watched some more videos to figure out how to do it (the size of the hoop matters exponentially). I watched even more videos to learn some tricks, too. I've taken some classes, even. And all of it is blissfully, stupidly, outrageously FUN.

So, yeah, I'm a 48 year old woman and I hula hoop. I think I'm just old enough that I don't feel I have to apologize for it.

Anyway, I really couldn't wait to do a self portrait with one of my hoops (yes, I have several). I'm hooping on my deck in the Lake Michigan wind and fog. Free. Hooping. Crazy happy.

What's in a Photo?

On Saturday night I did something I have never done before. I wouldn't say I was worried or nervous about it, but I did feel the gravity and importance of my role and that forced me to confront many of the doubts I have about myself.

Doubts that persist despite the many strides I have made in the seemingly simple task of learning to love myself.

So I did this thing and while in the midst of it I let go of self-conscious thoughts and worries about doing it "right". I was strong and capable and nurturing.

I am strong and capable and nurturing.

In the midst of it, there was a tiny hiccup and I felt myself allowing the fears and doubts to come in but I stopped myself. I dug deep down and turned the negative thoughts into a teaching for myself. I told myself that I will make mistakes but that doesn't negate the powerful, important work I am doing. So I kept going and it turned out to be even better than I had hoped.

After it was all over I went out with my camera to get a shot of the moon over the lake. It was one of those nights where you almost can't believe something so beautiful could possibly exist. But it does.
So I propped my camera on a picnic table and took many, many photos. Not one of them captured the intensity of the light or the stunning glow of that gorgeous moon. At first I was disappointed. I wanted a photograph to document this amazing night. I thought it wasn't meant to be.

Then I just looked at that moon. I sat and gazed at it for several minutes, while I thought about the women I was spending the weekend with. Women who are strong and capable and nurturing. Women who, like me, are not perfect. Women who make mistakes. Women who keep going through sadness, hardship, and disappointments. A group of women I am proud and honored to call my sisters.

I looked at that moon and I knew that it is part of me and part of all of us. That beauty can't always be captured in a photograph but it's there all the same. This photo shows just a fraction of that beauty. We don't always have to have a picture to remember an amazing moment.

It's in us, forever.

This is Me

This is me in Saguaro National Park.

This is me after four very long days of driving over 2,000 miles.

This is me surrounded by beauty and unfamiliar creatures and plants and landscape.

This is me alone and unafraid amongst the cacti.

This is me standing tall and exploring.

This is me Happy.

I'm an extroverted introvert

Watching a cloudy sunset over Lake Michigan. With white wine (in a very old jelly glass). Alone, but not lonely.

It's interesting--there is no one here this early in the season. A few neighbors come and go on the weekends, but no one stays during the week. I'm seeing weather patterns I don't normally get to see (a waterspout! A rainbow!); I watched a mother and baby deer bound down the dune and then run up the beach, leaping in and out of the water playfully; the family of eagles hunts in front of the cottages, treating me to an excellent show (they normally stay north in the short strip of beach where there are no cottages). I'm here so early because it's the first year I don't have children in the house wrapping up their school year. It's kind of a new experience.

I drove to a friend's son's graduation party on Sunday; they live on this side of the state, south of where I am, also on Lake Michigan. I only knew the hosts and one other guest, but was introduced to and sat down with a group of women who seemed interesting and so we chatted about writing, photography, kids, work. When I told told them where I had driven from (just an hour north) and that I was here by myself, one of the women--a freelance writer--asked if I was an introvert or an extrovert. I really had to think about this one.

Is it possible to be both? In certain settings I'm definitely extroverted. In others, I'm really shy and uncomfortable, although it might not show. What qualifies those terms, anyway? I think I'm on a 70/30 scale, with the bigger chunk being introverted. I really like my alone time. I don't mind having conversations with myself (I have lots of them). I get anxious when I think about someone horning in on that time if I haven't planned for it. That said, I get super itchy if I can't bounce ideas off someone else. I like asking a lot of questions and hearing people's stories. I love trying new things and meeting new people. I get a little lonely at night.

Anyway, part of getting comfortable with taking pictures of myself is also getting comfortable with me, just how I am, and not just in the physical sense. I'm an extroverted introvert. If I ever get to talk with this woman again, that's what I'm going to tell her.