One word // Surrender

Towards the end of last year it felt like I was given no choice but to surrender. And still I resisted it.

I had big plans for 2015. Bigger than big plans - a return to study, new work commitments and a few personal projects up my sleeve too, and daily blog writing (ha!) 

The universe, of course, had other ideas but did promptly offer me my asked-for serving of big - in the form of our darling Ruby. 2015 was BIG in the best way. 

It pushed me to rediscover myself, but mostly reminded me who I am and who I am striving to be.

I got better at letting go of the big {end} picture, instead focusing on doing what I could with what I had. 

I came to believe that would be enough. That my best is as much as I can do. 

I discovered so much more about trust. And that my intuition is always spot on. 

I learnt to ask. And how to let my heart answer.

I improved at listening. And finally accepted that it's hard for me not to talk.

I realised that people like to help. And I realised that I'm pretty good at helping and supporting myself.

I discovered that in doing less, I am able to give more. And in surrendering to this, I have felt more alive than I ever have.

Almost two weeks ago I caught myself holding my breath. As I exhaled, the word surrender rolled off my tongue. 

I knew immediately it was my one word for this year. My reminder to go slowly, to be present, to be kinder to myself. 

xx

Have you chosen one word to guide your year? Do you set intentions? I'd love to know. Elisa x

~ Sharing my one word with Bron at Maxabella Loves here.

~ I'm excited to be finally putting my meditation training to good use this year. I'll be creating and soon sending out {monthly is the plan!} some free mindful word/photography prints, plus affirmations and journalling/meditation practices and prompts to go with them. If that sounds like your thing, feel free to add your email address via the form here. 

Ruby // sixteen weeks later

Our darling baby girl arrived in a whirlwind 16 weeks ago now. It felt as though the wait to this point in the pregnancy had been so very long; the last weeks drawn out with a mixture of exhaustion, stress, soreness and anticipation. 

On Ruby's day I spent the morning and then later in the afternoon with a new feeling, a shift within me - a knowing that our time was soon; and as though cradling me in support the universe saw that five friends sent messages of love and support in those 24 hours before labour began. 

The two days prior I spent in quiet anticipation - making time for reading, yoga, meditation; turning away from social media, walking solo and slowly, and finding myself in conversations that spoke of beauty, wonder, divine timing and support. I felt grateful and ridiculously tired. I thanked and praised my body for growing my baby and supporting us both. I slept a lot. 

That night I went to bed before our two girls. My exhaustion had reached a higher level and it felt like I had no choice but to stop, rest and sleep. In bed I placed a hand on my heart and one on my belly and I tried so hard to hold onto the feeling of my baby girl within me and send her my love. I meditated and drifted into sleep. 

A few hours later our journey to each other began. And after just three hours of intense labour she was safe in my arms. I birthed our baby girl surrounded by my husband and four amazing, strong, calm, confident and loving women. I felt supported and loved. For this, and to them, I am forever grateful. 

In those three hours of labour I heard "You've got this!" from four different people - said with confidence in me, my baby and my body. It became my mantra. And it's stayed with me these past four months. It's stirred a quiet confidence within me. A trust I've never felt before. A trust in the part of me that is home: heart & soul.

And so for the past four months I've lived in a little cocoon with our Ruby - doing what needs to be done, and little extra. I've thought about writing sooner, tried twice but then retreated back to the busyness of loving my three babes. It's a beautiful space, right here right now... and I haven't wanted to venture further til now. I didn't give myself this time or space or allow myself to feel this joy in the early days with the other two girls. And I'm oh so grateful I have this time round. Part of me wants to stay here, and another part of me is ready to emerge, calling me to write again. Slowly, slowly.   

xxxx 

~ A big thank you so so much too for the beautiful messages of congratulations, love and support I have received on the arrival of our baby girl when I shared the news on facebook and instagram, So very grateful. Elisa xx 

The day I learnt to breathe

Learning to breath again. It sounds ridiculous I know, because we arrive here in a breath. And this breath of ours keeps us alive. But somehow, someway, and at some point I stopped breathing fully. Instead I engaged in a lively, rushed, frantic, stressed (but I wouldn't have admitted that to you at the time) out-of-control, desperately-seeking-control manner that became everyday life. And although I loved so many aspects of this life, it was messy. The stress part was messy, the rushing that kept me in a move-on-to-the-next-thing-without-taking-a-breath pattern was messiest. And that rushing meant I never really slowed enough to just be and connect with the inner me, never stopped to just breathe. So so far from the me I am today. Yet I remember so well how she felt. It hurts to feel like she did, but in a numb kind of way. 

And it feels like one day abruptly it all ended. But it wasn't really one day, not at all. It was a mammoth crescendo that started with my body falling apart (in so many ways: back aches and spasms, a breast tumour then an auto-immune disease to be more precise) and the end (which was kind of the start of change) was an 80km/hr head-on car crash. That's the part I want to talk about, because that's when I learnt to breathe again. 

It was eight years ago now. I was the passenger, my husband was driving. A car pulled out from the t-intersection four metres in front of us. He hit the brakes but there was no time to stop. I was looking at him on impact and if I hadn't been the doctors said my injuries would be a lot worse. I normally always cross my legs in the car too, and I remember noticing how straight I was sitting and upright minutes before the crash - I remember thinking how good my body felt sitting so still and straight and wondering why I didn't always sit like this. Later the doctors asked if I was sitting perfectly straight, because to not break bones was almost impossible.

My injuries were minimal soft-tissue ones, scratches and cuts - the airbag saved me yet did most of the damage. My face swelled an extra half its size and was covered in cuts, blood and bruising - as was my chest. I just remember noticing all the blood, pouring out my nose, tasting it in my mouth and knowing I needed an ambulance. It was me who called the ambulance, moments later interrupted by a man asking what I was doing, then promptly telling me to rest because he could make the call. I thought he was awfully rude, I was in control and could surely make the call myself! And the minute that thought entered my head I realised there was no control to be had here, and surrender was necessary. All at once I let go, all at once I felt my body relax in trust - that I would be cared for, that someone else had the situation and that would be okay. There was no rushing to be done, just waiting and breathing. Breathing was really all I could do. And breathing was all I needed to do.

As we arrived at the hospital I found myself alone lying on a trolley in a neck brace and panic set in. My breathing got shaky and became too fast. I tried to look around for someone, for help, but the white ceiling was all I got. 

Then a hand on mine. Just breathe, she said. It's all you have to do. You can help your body and mind with your breath too - you can manipulate your breath. Breathe deeper, all the way in. And slowly release. Just breathe. Slow your breath down, so all of you slows down....

She was an ambulance officer and I so wish I could remember her name. In those moments of reminding me to breathe, she changed everything for me. I wanted to get to know my breath. I wanted to just breathe. And just be. Breathwork became a part of my everyday. It still is. It's a big part of the meditation I practice and it reminds me always of the beauty, wonder and healing that can happen in a solo breath.

xx

Do you remind yourself to "just breathe" each day?

>> Want to be the first to receive my free mindfulness prints and the "breathe" meditation eBook I'm currently writing? I can't wait to send them your way. You can sign up for them here. <<   

Missing. Lately.

 

I've been missing in action at With Grace & Eve lately.... Right when I thought I'd found a relaxed mindful rhythm of heart centred moments...when I'd found my balance... mother guilt and fear crept up on me.                       

 

I almost immediately intentionally pulled back to centre in on me - my emotional wellbeing - and to reassess, to slow further, to find my clarity and to release the guilt and fear that weren't serving me one bit well.

 

That pulling back was really a letting go. And a reminder to do what needed to be done, and do nothing extra. A releasing of old patterns, to create time and space for new.

Clarity came and showed me what was missing. Slowly.

 

I craved the written word, and particularly that which I'd read before. So I read the same words, but gained new insight.

 

 I wrote just for me. I created new affirmations. And silently and repetitively I affirmed: "My best is good enough."

 

And I spent the solo minutes my day afforded me in stillness, drawn to meditation and realigning myself with the power of my breath. 

 

And after two birthday celebrations (now we have a little miss two and little miss four!) this past two months I have felt the need to hold my babies close a little more each day.     
 

As I slowed, it felt as though time was affording me more heart moments. But less I wanted to share.     
 

I gave myself a mindful project, to ground and centre with two little girls in tow. I stepped outside at about the same time each day for seven days to take photos at the same place. Minutes of just being with my girls, in awareness, mindful of moments and the power of presence all at once.

And I've missed this space but the lesson has been in the missing. It's made me notice what's missing from my days, and it's shown me once again the freedom and presence that comes from honouring where I'm at. And the wonder that comes from making space for new and change.

   

xx

 

Has anything been missing from your days of late? And does that affirmation {"My best is good enough"} resonate with you? When I shared it on facebook, it was reassuring to know it was something others felt they needed too. Elisa x

 

Rituals {in the morning}

A morning ritual is something I have always sought out.

My perfect morning begins with an affirmation, followed by yoga, then breakfast and a hot cup of lemon tea. It's full of calm, gentle and slow.

It rarely happens. The last time I was pregnant with my second child. She's now 18 months.

Instead I squeeze in glimpses of that morning. A little each day. In-between rushed and chaos.

Sometimes I just say the affirmation. Other times I wake to my two gorgeous girls sleeping beside me, and holding them and watching them as they sleep is meditation enough.

Then there are the mornings where I get woken by a three year old who is screaming and pointing to the window: "Mummy wake up! Look quick! Look outside, it's the morning! See the sun is up Mama!"

Or it's miss 18 months tugging on my fingers pulling at me as fiercely as she can. I take her hand and she leads me to the fridge, a smile on her face.

These times {and most mornings} I find myself bounding out of bed before I want to. My body startled from sleepy to active in a matter of seconds. Bounding to make the three rounds of breakfasts my hungry little people require.

The only real constant on those mornings is sitting {sometimes standing} to eat breakfast. A good healthy one that I give thanks for before my first bite.

It's usually mid-morning by the time I think to stretch or practise a little yoga, and sometimes afternoon before I get that cup of tea. And rarely is it drunk hot.

But lately I've been stepping outside once my girls start their breakfast and taking in a few slow and full breaths of fresh air. My eyes gaze at the sky, witness it's colour and contrast and give thanks for this new day.

Just a minute outside is all it takes for me to reconnect, still and just be. And that bit of calm, gentle and slow right there, that's ritual enough for me for now.

xx

 

{Gratitude for mornings with my girls - however they may go. For breakfast - and the one I've shared and one I'll be sharing with close family this Easter long weekend. For single whole minutes of stillness and meditation in my day. Elisa x}

~ Linking with two grateful communities: Maxabella's 52 Weeks of Grateful and Rachel's Finding Joy.

Do you have a morning ritual? What are you most grateful for this week?

 

Deciphering direction

I had been doubting myself and my ability, but mostly seeking clarity. 

Deciphering direction. And trying to turn my dreams into actions.

I was thinking an awful lot.

And when I realised {after a long while} I promptly decided to stop.

That's when I found this affirmation:

"There is no limit to what I can accomplish if I know the direction I am going and am willing to make the effort."

It's been on repeat here.

I'm choosing to believe in effort, perfect timing, opportunity and that sometimes you just have to take a chance so that dreams can come true.

xx

What are you affirming right now? x

{Affirmation found via here}

 

It's morning

Since January 1, my three year old has been amazed every time she walks into the kitchen and sees light filtering through the windows.

"Look Mum! Wow, the light! It's morning!!"

Whether there be sunshine or an overcast sky, she sees the light of a new day. And wants to celebrate it.

I love that the lessons I most need often come from my little girl.

She has reminded me of a beautiful affirmation I used to begin my days with: Today is a wonder-filled day.

I said it silently, letting the words roll around in my head the moment I woke. Repeating them, and always thinking them with gratitude. Giving thanks for a new day, for the wonder that would be coming our way.

Somehow, slowly, I let it go. But I know slowly {with gentle practice} it will come back to being a natural and effortless part of my morning. Starting today.

xx

Do you have a morning affirmation? And what are you most grateful for today?


{Grateful for the reminder, for the beauty and wonder my three year old sees and for each new day ~ Linking with Maxabella and Kidspot's 52 Weeks of Grateful over here.}

 

In the morning

For the first time in 18 months I woke up naturally {when my body saw fit}.

For the first time in 18 months I woke up past 7am {and the sun was shining}.

For the first time in 18 months I woke up to the sound of birds {no alarm in the form of a baby crying or a toddler calling for mum}.

And I felt new, refreshed, whole and alive {in the morning}.

For the first time in 18 months. 

And I'm pretty sure I smiled.

Then I stretched gently and closed my eyes and rolled a mantra around in my head.

I took some deep releasing breaths, and I gave thanks {for sleep, my body, the sun filtering into my room and the quiet}.

I gave thanks for this very time, this moment awake {and not needed}.

And I got thinking about my ideal morning {waking when my body wants to, morning yoga, a brisk walk, a nourishing breakfast, drinking tea outside in the sun...}

And I thought about the last time my ideal morning passed {two years ago maybe}

Today it felt like that nurturing ideal was at least part possible, that one day soon it may all be possible again. 

And then I remembered all the days it could have been {pre-motherhood} and the choices I had made and alarms I had set instead. 

I pondered what had been and dwelled on what could be.

And lying there, I made a decision to start my days differently {with an affirmation and a little morning yoga too}. 

Then I closed my eyes and cuddled closer to the two little girls sharing my bed. 

Elisa xx

How does your ideal morning go? Any tips for a refreshing start to the day with littlies in tow?

Words to a two year old

This week I've heard myself saying to my little miss two...

Go slowly. Everything is easier when you go slowly and gently.

I'm so proud of you.

One step at a time. Just take one step at a time.

We don't need to do everything today. We have tomorrow.

You're getting better and better every day.

No chocolate at breakfast time.

I love you no matter what.

Calm yourself down. Take a big deep breath in, and now let it all out.

Sleep is good for you. Lap it up.

Drink your water. Your body gets thirsty, even when you're not.

Don't worry. We can make it better.


I've been saying all of those things a lot right now, on repeat even, and while often I tire of the sound of my voice... on reflection, it turns out most of my words to a two year old are perfect lessons and affirmations for me. Life's funny like that sometimes. Don't you think?

Elisa xx

{Image via here. I'm also very much loving the way a cuddle can make everything in little miss two's world "all better".}

What lessons or affirmations have you learnt this week?