About motherhood...

Today I spoke a reflection and celebration of motherhood, baring my heart and soul, allowing myself to be oh-so vulnerable in front of my children's school community. Trusting and hoping my words would resonate. They did, and for that I'm incredibly grateful. This post is the words I spoke. Elisa x

Motherhood is by far the best thing to happen to me. It’s also, by far, the most challenging.  

When I was asked to speak on motherhood here today, I started doing a stack of research. And by research I mean talking. So lots of talking. Talking about motherhood - what makes it amazing, what makes it tough. I’ve spoken to mums at school, friends and family, women here at weekend mass, a lot of random mums at the supermarket… I’ve chatted to whoever stops to comment on our spunky miss two and I get stopped often. And all that talking - sorry, research - has only backed up my observations and speculations after 7.5 years of on the job training as a mum. My conclusion is motherhood is amazing, breathtaking, heart-expanding, wondrous, joyous, funny and incredibly precious. It’s also challenging, exhausting, tough and an endless learning curve. In short, my research has found that motherhood is as beautiful as it is messy.

Motherhood is a beautiful mess.

A beautiful mess. I really do think this sums it up.
So much beauty, so much love, so many little moments that feel oh so big to your heart.
But the mess.  Yes, there’s the physical mess, but it’s mostly the emotional mess that stands out over time.
The fierce protectiveness that comes with wanting the best and only good to come the way of your child.
That deep immobilising guilt that comes with wondering if you’ve done enough, given enough, shared enough. The guilt that comes with striving for balance, and feeling like you’re falling short.
Then there’s fear and worry - of what you don’t know, and of what you do.

There’s always some sort of mess going on. But I’m putting it out there that underneath the mess, there’s beauty to be found. At the end of the messiest days, I think we can all sit back and find a little beauty, a little gratitude.

The beauty and the mess balance each other. And I think we need both to grow.

It’s the beauty that helps us see past the fear, to flip it.

As mothers, we can choose to love harder when fear and protectiveness present.
We can choose self-kindness - to see what we are doing well, to praise our efforts in motherhood - when guilt rears it’s ugly head.

And when worry, fear and uncertainty boil to the surface, we can calm them with faith. Faith in God. Faith in family. Faith in ourselves, our hearts. Faith in our kids, their hearts. And faith in the community here to which we all belong.

Motherhood is to love, and be loved.

I woke up the other day to find my miss seven asleep tucked under one arm, miss five tucked under the other and my baby {now two years old} asleep on my chest. It was bliss, but I was reminded in this moment that people often say to me, say to mothers, “You have your hands full”. I certainly did at this time; I certainly do. But what I don’t say back, and often want to is, “Yes, my hands are full, but you should see my heart.” Love, I think, is the best gift of motherhood. I had no idea I could love so much or be so loved until I became a mother.  

One thing I know for sure is Motherhood means learning.

And the learning never stops.
Because motherhood isn’t for mastering. It’s for growing, learning and evolving with our kids.

I know I’m kinder to myself, because I’m a mother.
Healthier, because I’m a mother.
Have felt more love than I knew existed in this world, because I’m a mother.

And I’m a better version of me, because I’m a mother.

And about mothering... I wanted to share something important to me. I believe some of us are born to be mothers, but having children isn't the only way to mother. We can mother our sisters, our friends, our own mothers, someone else's children. Mothering isn't defined by gender or our ability to bear a child. It's something we can all do. For each other. It's nurture, it's kindness, it's love. I believe that sometimes all we really need is to be a mother to ourselves. But what I know is when you hold this space as a mother - for your children, for someone else's children, for your sister, your friend, for your partner ... when you mother, you are someone's whole world. 

xxxx

Wishing the happiest day to all mums, to everyone who mothers and to those who support us in mothering. With love, Elisa x {In Australia, this Sunday marks our celebration of Mother's Day.}

***I have a new Instagram account! Find me at @ohhelloheart + I will be launching free breathe prints + meditation/mindfulness resources at the end of the month via here xx

***Photo by Sam Natoli Photography

With a single breath and a heart-focused intention

One week into Feb, 38 days into the new year... And it only now feels like my year is beginning.

We've sent a little one off to prep, a confident and eager miss seven into grade two and my little miss Ruby {now 21 months} is at home navigating our world with me by her side.

I haven't set a pace so far this year. And that's been unsettling for me. I've wanted a rhythm. But instead strived for a heart-centred hum to our days. We've done beautifully in carving out memories and moments this summer. And when all sense of balance has been thrown out, we've paused, breathed, banded together and started again.

Our first few weeks of January were slow and long in the best way. I found myself nourishing and nurturing my three together, but carving out time with each of my girls alone too. There's something about giving all your attention to them individually that sets my heart alight, as though I'm seeing them with new eyes, giving all my love to just one for a few moments. It's really quite hard to explain. 

But today it feels like only now my year is truly beginning, now that school is back, and I can schedule in some time for writing, some time for nurture, time to create and time to be alone. And it turns out that's what I've craved most so far this year. Time alone to write, to breathe, to just be. To reconnect with me.

And so, I've been dwelling on little rituals I can fold effortlessly into my day. Three rounds of salute to the sun in the morning. Ducking out the door for a short morning walk as the sun rises while the rest of the house sleeps. Stepping outside to look at the sky {looking up and giving thanks}. Writing down my blessings. Just writing, anything at all, but mostly for my heart. Reading a few pages of a new book before bed. Reminding myself to breathe, and then breathing and doing absolutely nothing else.  

And it seems this is where my rituals begin, with a single breath and a heart-focused intention. So here's to the start of a new year, and gratitude with each breath.

xx

How was your January? Do you carve any mindful or nurturing rituals into your mornings/day? I'd love to know. Elisa xx


~ Sending out three digital prints via my newsletter next month! Finally, they are ready!  Plus, some breath-centered mantras and affirmations for you. If you'd like me to send them your way, you can add your email here.

Here and now

I have been so very aware of the here and now this past month. My here and now. Their here and now. Our here and now. 

Aware and in tune with the three little hearts that have a forever hold on mine. 

I feel myself watching them grow from a distance. Stepping back a little so I can really see.

And then, because that distance can never last more than a minute, all at once I'm up close... taking in their every word and emotion... holding little hands, stroking chubby cheeks, reading make-believe adventure books aloud, listening attentively to jumbled so-much-to-tell-you stories, brushing long brown unruly hair... all the while looking into big deep brown eyes that sparkle with a wonder, curiosity, joy and love that I desperately want to know more about. 

Change has been thrust upon us. So much change. New patterns, new people, new places. I felt lost, overwhelmed, unsure. And so I took a deep breath, and consciously slowed my pace. And they've slowed to join my rhythm. 

In this new-found presence, it feels like we've fallen in love all over again. It feels like despite the daily rush, we have a little hold on time. We've fallen into our rhythm, one that ebbs and flows in a way that feels much much better than okay.

And so, discarded autumn leaves have been transformed into fairy crowns // drawing has become a family affair // the smallest of outings now stand strong as bright big love-filled heart-thumping memories and our snuggled-in-bed chatter has lingered too late for a school night {but how I secretly love that they both always have more to say}. 

And I've found myself the collector of heart moments, trying desperately to tuck all these memories deep within me in a place where I won't forget the words, emotions and expressions... From here is where I begin to write, and from here is where I end my day {in thanks}. 

xx

It's been quite a while between posts. I've been so consumed with my here and now, making what's felt like such big decisions, and trying so desperately to stay present for my three girls that I've pulled away from this creative space I love. I'm so happy to be back. How have you been? How is your here and now? Much love, Elisa x 

~ Still working away at the free prints & meditation resources I'll be sending out soon! I'll be sure to post when they're ready, but you can sign up for them early here too. 

Dreaming and beginning

A few weeks ago, and then again last night, I found myself scrolling through job advertisements, pondering roles that looked amazing and that I ticked all the boxes for in terms of experience/skill... but roles I don't actually want and couldn't possibly do right now as a mum to my three girls. So why waste my times reading all those position descriptions? Because dreams. 

I've been dreaming vividly about various roles I could hold, books I could write, websites that could inspire, visions I could create. Dreaming and waiting. And wondering when the time to begin will begin... All the while finding myself so very much in the here and now, consumed with where we are at. Savouring these moments, but unable to stop the dreaming...

Then, in the past few weeks, these three things have happened. 

1. I text a friend the job roles I couldn't apply for but she could; and was reminded that where I am is pretty damn amazing. Mum to three beautiful girls; an abundance of love and beautifully messy days. 

2. While clearing old papers, I found a single scroll tied with pink ribbon. I knew what it was immediately. A wish. One of three wishes. I'd created them seven years and two houses ago, before becoming a mum and after reading a novel about a year of wish making. I opened the scroll and read: "I wish my three beautiful babies into existence." I don't think it's a coincidence that just one scroll and that particular one {my wish come true} was there waiting to be found. And I have no idea what has happened to the other two, or what I wished for.

3. A random memory popped into my thoughts this morning. Fifteen-year-old me hearing about dreams that stayed dreams; and being urged to try all that I wished for. I was sure I'd blogged about it, so looked it up and yes it's here. Turns out I've been back in that place, and almost two years to the date. 

So, this past fortnight I've given myself time to write, when the baby sleeps, at night before bed... whenever the smallest window of time appears. I've let ideas fly, words flow and my heart soar. And I realised there's never a perfect time to begin, there's just now. And so I began once more. 

xx

Do you have a dream? Or, like me, are you forever dreaming? And have you begun? Elisa x


~ A loving thank you to those who have added their email here for the free prints and meditation/mindfulness resources I'll be sending out this year! I'm working on them in between mothering my three beautiful girls and while it's taking much longer than I hoped and promised, I'm choosing to trust time and so excited to soon send you a bundle of love and mindfulness {prints, words and meditation/mindfulness resources} from my heart and inspired by my meditation training and home practices. Elisa xx

No coincidence

Before I gave birth to Ruby, I noticed my body calling me to slow. And the week before her birth, slow was just about all I could do. And I chose {what I felt at the time was a conscious decision} to stay present with my baby and maintain as much of that slow for her first few weeks. 

But that slow has lasted so much longer. Almost four months in, and I'm just emerging. In slow, I found myself meditating before sleep, waking to practise yoga before the baby fed and reading so so many books. And I found that when rushing presented itself {hello school mornings} I could deal with it much more effortlessly than before. 

I have found myself so full on love, and with so much love to give. And that boundless love has surprised me so much. Not that it wasn't there before, but because it seems here more often, and love is my first response so often right now. And because it's shown me a second time what I know to be true - that when another baby comes into your world, that love we share as a family evolves - expands, increases, heightens, grows stronger with every experience we share. 

Today I picked up Sara Avant Stover's The Way of The Happy Woman, which I find myself doing as the season's change. And I realised that my desire and need these past few months to retreat from the world, nurture my nest, and write just for me were in line with winter's calling. And my readiness to write for here again, to venture our with friends and be outdoors has arrived just as spring emerges. And I'd say it's no coincidence at all.

xx  

Have you read The Way of The Happy Woman? And do you find yourself moving with nature's rhythms too? xx

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 

Almost

It's a funny feeling being here. So hard to describe. Yet when you mention it to someone who's been here too they just know the feeling, and without a description. It's being in a space of waiting yet a space of readiness. A space in-between. An almost.

It's a wanting to force time to move faster.
It's knowing surrender is the only answer.
It's understanding this is so much bigger than me.
It's wondering. Wondering about time, how events will unravel, about you, about the four of us becoming five. 
And it's craving. Craving that sweet explosion of love I will feel when you first enter my arms. 

38 weeks. So close. So very close. For now I breathe and send love to you, little one. And I embrace this moment; this feeling, us here and now. Knowing that despite living this almost feeling three times now, this will be my last.

xx

Big breaths, no tears

Big breaths have been taken this past week.

Because I'm trying my very best to get in some full nurturing breaths and create some extra comfort for me and room in this fast growing belly for baby.

Because focusing on my breath reminds me to slow.

Because I can't seem to schedule a yoga class this pregnancy, despite plenty of trying. And breathing is my favourite part of yoga.

Because we let go of our little girl that little bit extra this week and watched her dance on into her prep classroom, eager as ever for school to begin. There were no tears from her, and no tears from me but the letting go certainly stung a little.

Big breaths too because seeing her off to school saw me consumed by anxiety at the very last minute. Because what if I hadn't given her enough, shown her enough, taught her enough, been there enough... so many what ifs filled my head one sleepless night. And then early in the morning sleep finally arrived, as I comforted myself in the thought that I probably wasn't alone in feeling this way and remembered I've loved her as much as my whole heart can love, and isn't love always enough?

More big breaths to come this next week as miss three sets off for kindergarten. And with both my babes busy learning and having fun for five hours one day a week I plan on carving out a little time each morning before I get stuck into work that involves breathing, and pretty much nothing else. A few minutes where it's just me, the sound of the waves, time to just be and time to connect with baby. Creating space to slow, to tune in, to love. Creating space and joy.

xx

Wishing you nurturing breaths this week, and the next. Has this week been filled with starting something new for you too? x

~ Love that my hubby captured this image of me and my big girl on her first school morning. We had plenty of smiling photos. And then when I thought he had stopped snapping, she turned to me with a big hug: "Today is soooo exciting Mummy." 

Catching my breath + the happiest news

I've spent the past two months catching my breath (courtesy of a whirlwind of work, nausea, preparations for end of kinder / start of school for miss five, and exhaustion). 

And searching for more breath. (When breathwork is at the core of your meditation practise, a family of four taking turns at gastro then two weeks of a lingering cough/cold certainly gets in the way). 

And then finally making time to just breathe. 

And this time around just breathing meant abandoning a few of things I wanted to be doing, mainly being here writing about new-found joy, excitement, anticipation and all the growth these past five months have entailed.

Instead I found myself sitting a lot, witnessing, reflecting. And watching my girls (now five and three) ever so closely. All of sudden they seem so big, so grown up. I want to bottle their energy as it is now, to savour and remember these moments. I've felt scared I'll forget the little things they say, their laughter as it is now, us as we are now. Each day they are growing, changing, learning, and it felt like I couldn't keep up. 

A fortnight ago miss three and I sat in the grass. She picked daisies. I sat down to breathe, to stretch and soak up the sunshine, my camera by my side; and all the while admiring her abundance of energy - energy I was lacking. 

After beheading more daisies then her little hands could hold, she decided to slow down, join my pace and copy my pose - that's her in the image above.

And it was then I felt myself taking a deeper breath and only then noticing the breath cycle I'd be living in, despite stopping to breathe being a focus in my days.

It was then I realised I don't need to keep up with my girls, I just need to show up. To be there in the moment with them as much as I can; to love them; to be a witness to (and encourage) their curiousity, creativity, kindness, wonder and love; to share my heart with them and to sit back and soak up our days and our rhythms (even the messy ones) with a big breath. And to know and accept that there will be times I'll wish I'd done things differently. 

And as I step into week 21 of growing our newest baby girl - hopefully that explains my nausea, exhaustion and absence from the blog :) - I'm breathing easier than before; and making wishes for a new year with joy and love as our guides.

xx

How are you? Are you breathing freely? Any happy news to share? xx    

This little shadow

This morning I heard "Stop following me!" screamed by my miss three.
But there was no-one following her.
Then again came her screamed request, and again. But this time she was outside and pointed to the little follower she was disgruntled with: her shadow.
"It's scary mummy. It won't go away."
I explained just how a shadow worked, and that hers belonged to only her.
But she was still unhappy.
So I stood in the sun and showed her my shadow.
She quickly stood in front of me, her shadow mostly in mine, just a little of her piggy tail poking out.
"That's better, mummy."

xx

~ My big girl has her first prep school orientation tomorrow. She still wants to be close to her mummy, but she's been creating a whole lot of distance (independence) and doing so much growing up lately. I'm wondering just how long my little miss three will want to stay in mummy's shadow. For so so much longer, I do hope. Elisa x

What's filling your bucket?

This week I helped out at miss four's kinder, and the topic of conversation on the mat was "What's filling your bucket?" And by that the teacher was referring to what's filling your heart - what makes you feel good about yourself and feel full of love - and what you can do to fill others' buckets - acts of kindness, comfort, friendship. It reminded me of this post. And it also sparked a conversation about what empties our buckets. 

Here were 20 four and five-year-olds openly sharing the words that fill them up, and words that can tear them down. And knowing the difference, and having an understanding of the impact our words and actions can have on others. 

And while this is pretty much my parenting aim - to fill my girls up with love, and help them identify all their emotions, and accept them too - I couldn't be more grateful that my little girl has a teacher who values wellbeing and nurture just as high as other areas of learning. 

It also reminded me that this is a question to reflect on often, and at all ages and stages of life. To identify what's filling me up {nourishing me}, perhaps what I need more of and what I can give more of, and definitely what I could do with less of. 

xx

What are you most grateful for this week? What's filling your bucket?

Just 10 minutes

"Why don't we take time for ourselves?"

"Because there's always something to do when you're a mum."

"But sometimes I just think it would be nice to be... alone. And do something for me. You know?"

"Yes, but the guilt... What would people think if I put myself first? Did something solely for me? It just sounds so.... indulgent."

"I know, I know... but what if it didn't cost money, and what if it wasn't that much time either... maybe just 10 minutes alone. And what if that 10 minutes meant I would move about the rest of my day feeling recharged, a little more nourished and calmer. Mindful even? That would make it worth it, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose if it was just 10 minutes..."

"Maybe 10 minutes is all I need..."

"Maybe 10 minutes is everything I need."

xx

Do you give yourself a few minutes for you each day?

{I choose to give myself 10 minutes most days. Normally to just be, to breathe, meditate, write. Sometimes I read or take photos. Sometimes I lie down, sometimes I walk. Sometimes I'm not alone. And some days I only find five minutes, but even fewer minutes then I'd like make a world of difference. Image during my 10 minutes this morning by a ferocious sea. So windy my eyes watered, and to watch the waves it became necessary to take refuge behind the boat sheds. Elisa x}

Sunday mornings

There always seems to be something happening on a Saturday and normally I'm flying solo in the parenting duties with hubby at work. But Sundays? Lately they are slow, filled with family and moments that make my heart soar. A part of me would like to say they're spontaneous, but truth is we're intentionally creating our Sundays this way. This morning he ran laps around the oval, the girls chased and I watched on while playing with my camera. Everybody was happy.

xx

How do your weekends go? Do you have an intentionally slow, family-filled time scheduled in?

Her words, my heart & a dose of mother guilt

Sometimes in the midst of caring for my girls and working from home I beat myself up about not doing a good enough job at either role. 

Thing is somewhere deep down I do know I'm doing a good job at both roles. And for the most part I have this balance thing going pretty well... even if it means intentionally carving out time to make our memories and just be.

But, and this often strikes during school holidays (read now!), there's an emotional part of me that cringes when I step into another room to make a work call or tell miss four that she really does need to amuse herself for 10 minutes so mummy can put the finishing touches on an article, or when I hear myself saying "just one more minute" and then realising it's not the first time I've asked for that one minute more...

A few week's ago I asked miss four if I she would like to help me bake our bread - something she loves to do and we often do together. Her response: "Not right now Mummy. I'm doing my work, you'll need to wait ... just one minute." Cringe. Sigh. Guilt. I waited, and watched as she purposefully wrote numbers on her paper. She gave me all her attention and love when she was ready, one minute later. 

The day after I chatted with another mother about my feelings of guilt. I knew she was in a similar situation to me and was comforted when she admitted it crept up on her often too... She suggested that perhaps it was just part and parcel of being a working-from-home mum. And just as we were about to leave the conversation at that, another mum joined in, "Actually that guilt happened to me too. I still cringe, thinking I could have done more, shown them more, taught them more, been present more... and I chose to stay home with them until they went to school. I think it's just part and parcel with being a mum."

But is it? This guilt that nobody ever tells you about pre-kids, that stings horribly and is hard to erase. Does it have to be part of motherhood?

Yesterday I overheard miss four talking to miss two: "What do you want to be when you grow up? I want to be a mum that's just like my mum." And my first thought was: I must be doing something right. Maybe more than something. And truth is those words went and made my day.

I keep hoping my girls will remember when they're older that I was doing my best. And I hope that's enough. Because I suppose in the end that's all I can do. To trust myself, do my best, love fully and keep on collecting {and savouring} heart moments as I go.

xx 

Does mother guilt come your way too? x
{Image above taken by the super-talented Laura at Perla Photography x}


  

You ~ 14/52

It's been just the two of us for 15 hours a week for 10 weeks now.

My eyes on you, my heart taking all of you in. Your eyes brimming with excitement, your hand in mine.

And I've noticed...

You hold my hand tighter than usual when it's just the two of us.

When you show me that one-dimple smile, your eyes sparkle. I love it so very much.

You're even cheekier than your big sister. I never would have guessed my gentle baby would be. 

You have so many more words when it's just you and me. And you're not afraid to assert your intentions either. "I walk, no pram." Before the car is even parked...

You like your own company. Keen to explore for yourself. And create some distance between you and me.

You notice everything. So much so I find myself scrambling to make sure I'm noticing enough.

"Cup a tea?" you say as soon as we return home, picking up the teapot in your play kitchen.

And this past month, it's mummy you call me. I'm mama no more.

You're growing into a little girl, but still my baby. As you put it so sweetly to the mother and baby we met in the street, "Hi little baby! I big baby."

And I’m trying so hard to remember every part of you as you are at two and a half, trying so hard to remember these moments now forever. 

But mostly I find myself just focusing on the love, all that love. As you grow, I grow, and that love just keeps on surprising me and expanding even further too.

xx

{Reflections after I took this photo last week ~ a beautifully sand-messy morning with just the two of us by the sea x} 

By the sea ~ 7/52

I always remember my mum surprising us on drives home and stopping the car at a random park she knew was on the way.
We'd always ask: "Why are we stopping? Mum, where are we?"
Always surprised. Even though she did it quite often.
Then off we'd go to play and explore.
I loved the spontaneity of it. And the sense of adventure too.

I swore to myself a long time ago I would be spontaneous just like that for my girls.
We'd already visited the beach once this week to watch the waves, but this time was out of the ordinary, a last-minute split-second decision while I was preparing dinner. Dinner could wait I decided, then grabbed a towel, my camera and two changes of dresses for my little princesses.

I sat on the sand and watched them - squeals of excitement as they ran in the water, splashed each other and gathered a collection of shells to display on the sand.
And it felt good to let go of routine and shoulds and musts, to slow and to stop, to watch my girls just be.

xx

Are you spontaneous? The more I let go and savour moments, I feel like spontaneity is something I'm learning to love xx

Sunset & spontaneity

 

It amazes me how I can miss sunset so often. Somehow cooking dinner, bath time and cleaning up mean I forget about the whole sun going down thing until it's dark almost every night.

Last week after a picnic dinner in the park we drove home to sunset. And while helping miss four get ready for bed, I kept thinking about how I really wanted to be outside and witnessing those brilliant orange, yellow and peach shades playing out alongside the darkening sky.

Then spontaneity took over, and the two of us abandoned teeth brushing for a walk towards the departing sun...

xx

When was the last time you witnessed sunset? x

Daisy chains & I spy

The summer holidays have come to an end yet that relaxed, time-is-ours feeling is still lingering.

I'll do anything to keep it going, although the four-year-old pre-school routine might do a good job at squashing that in the coming weeks...

The plan? To carve out parts of our every week {and moments of our days} where simplicity is our only practice.

The past week there's been a whole lot of making daisy chains, pushing swings, building blocks, dipping out feet in the sea and games of "I spy" on car trips.

And in those little moments with my girls it feels as though I see clearer, truly listen, my heart expands and time lasts that bit longer.... here's to creating more of that.

xx

Any ideas for keeping that holiday feeling an everyday one? x

Growing {through motherhood}

I wrote this post for Josie's blog, but it felt like it very much needed to be here too...
 

Motherhood is more than I imagined it would be. In almost every way. More love. More beauty. More challenges. And even more pulling me in the direction of my heart.

 

But it's the growing that amazes me the most. That I grew my girls. And how they grow themselves. And more so how that love we share expands and increases and heightens and grows with every experience we share.

 

I've been in awe and wonder {and exhaustion too} at how motherhood has encouraged and nurtured me to grow and heal. Each day. Little by little. I find myself checking in with my heart, making changes, adjusting priorities and learning continually as I go.

 

Motherhood has encouraged me to ask the question: what makes my heart sing? To listen to the answer. And then act on it.

 

And in doing this, motherhood inspires me each day to grow further into the me I want to be. As my girls grow, I grow.

Each day as a mother I am given little reminders to savour moments, to allow myself to dream and to slow down even further. To pause and reflect amid days of chaos. To pause and give thanks often.

 

Motherhood reminds me in its fleeting heart-filled moments that I am blessed.

 

xx

And as I read back on these words this morning, I realised I needed this post more than ever today. Sometimes that growing is filled with challenges, but I find {and needed the reminder} that it always comes with an opportunity to heal, evolve and learn something new. Elisa xx

Has motherhood taught you more about yourself? Do you feel you're constantly growing and learning too? x

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