Pause.

Pause. That's the word that keeps coming to me as I think about this festive season. 

There's so much busy. More than I wish to remember, more than I wish to have to do. And even as I pause, it feels as though our world is still buzzing around me.  

But still I pause. And in that moment I notice where I am. I take a big nourishing breath in, and take stock of where I am. I notice the little things that pull me back to the present, and steer my thoughts from tasks to moments, from rushing to gratitude, from routine to rhythm.

I notice where I am standing. My connection with the ground, with whatever is under foot. I visualise myself putting down roots and connecting as deep down as I need to go until I reach Mother Earth.

I notice my body and how it's feeling as a whole. I allow myself to notice the parts of my body that may be struggling right now. And I give thanks for them. For the job they're doing, despite strain and perhaps despite my full attention.  

I notice my breath, it's rhythm, it's depth, it's sound. I dwell here with the breath, choosing not to manipulate but to be witness to it's presence today. I notice how with my non-judgement and loving attention it naturally slows, becomes deeper, fuller. For my breath, I give thanks.

I notice what's around me. I see mess, I see food that needs to be cooked, I see a lengthy to-do list and floors that need sweeping. I close my eyes, reminding myself to look deeper. When I open them I see with my heart. I see an abundance of wants met, I see healthy nourishing food ready and waiting, I see a beautiful life being lived fully and a home that while messy is one of peace. 

I place one hand on my heart, the other on my belly. I breathe, visualising my life breath travelling back and forth between the two. I give thanks for love and all that nourishes me in each day.

I pause. And in that moment I notice where I am. I return to my day, with an adjusted rhythm. Remembering who I am, where I am, and all I have to be thankful for. Especially when the world may feels like it's buzzing around me.

xx

Pause and interrupt busy with slow, mindfulness and gratitude, and in doing so, nurture. It's my plan for the next month, and going by how it feels I think it's a good one for me. Will you join me? Elisa x

--

---------------->> My free five-day mindfulness bundle incorporating breath work, journaling + meditation {the tools + rituals I use to cultivate nurture + space for what matters most in my day} will launch in the New Year. More info here, if this sounds like you xx <<----------------

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

Deciding on less and more

I can easily write a lengthy list of what I want more of. For some reason, more seems to strike a chord... and it makes me focus on what I don't have. But when I bring less into the equation, the opposite presents. I find myself dwelling on what I don't need, what I can discard, what I truly need to be happy {and it turns out that's not many things at all}. 

In learning the art of balance and in a bid for clarity, I write my more or less list each year. It begins with a fair bit of thought, but eventually the words just roll onto the page, unfolding into a manifesto of sorts that resonates with my heart. Here it is.

Less screens, more books
Less sugar, more protein
Less procrastination, more meditation
Less talking, more listening
Less worry, more gratitude
Less criticism, more praise
Less fear, more love
Less rushing, more moments
Less doing, more just being

xx

Will you give the less and more list a go? Do you do a similar exercise, and has it helped you? Love to know your thoughts. Leave me a message or link below or even shoot me an email if you create your own list. I'd love to have a read. Elisa xx 


~~~~~~~~ Love some free prints and affirmations to inspire your everyday? You can leave your email here! Can not wait to send this bundle of mindfulness prints + affirmations to you next month. Elisa xx ~~~~~~~~ 

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.

One word // breathe

Breathe. It's my word for the year. I think it's been calling me for years now. Nine actually. It's sat there humming in the background, drawing me in to learn a little, then letting me adventure elsewhere. 

But now it seems breathe is in my every moment. 

To me, breathe is about creating space. That's space within me. And space in my days for more of what matters most.

Breathe is a reminder to pause in stillness {to breathe and just be}. 

And to be mindful {of my words, thoughts, actions}.

It's about creating space within {and for} myself {so I have more to give}.

It's pausing to give thanks {breathing in grace, breathing out gratitude}.

It's about letting go of fear, and replacing the gaps with love {so much love}. 

A breath is just a moment, but {to me} a breath savoured feels like so much more than that. 

xx

Breathe is a naturally extension of my last year's word, surrender, and it seems that's the way this word caper pans out for me. One leads into the other effortlessly, with stirrings of it mentioned here and there {in writing and conversation} until it's impossible to ignore or call a coincidence. 

So, "breathe" will be my guide. A focus word to set the rhythm for my heart's year; to steer me as I live, learn, grow, thrive. 

xx 

Do you choose a guiding word each year? Do you set intentions? I'd love to know. Elisa x


~ I have a bundle of free mindfulness prints ready to send out at the end of the month, and a meditation mini-ebook coming out mid year. If this interests you, please do sign up for them here xx

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. 

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. <<   

Why I write

I think maybe when we resonate with each other little sprinklings of love are made - they follow us, stay with us and ignite passion, purpose and growth. The more we connect, the more love we create in our worlds.

And that's kind of why I write. That's why I share words here from my heart. That's why I love this space - for all those sparks of connection that have been made and shared. 

I suppose I've always been a writer at heart. Scribbling notes in journals at every time of the day for as long as I can remember. And not writing, well that means I just wouldn't be me. 

xx

Do you feel like without writing {or photography, or creating or something else that speaks to your heart} you wouldn't be you? 

~ My friend Deb {read her beautiful writing here} asked me why I write a couple months ago, and the question has stayed with me and inspired me to share and to write a little more in my journal lately just for me too. Elisa x

A nourishing something

Yesterday I had a conversation about how having a ritual {or a nourishing something that's just for us} that we do each day can be the one thing that keeps us feeling filled, not just going but going happily, with that little bit of extra energy (even when sleep alludes you). Of course, we can go quite wonderfully without that little nourishing rhythm in our day too - but it can make all the difference on some days. 

My time by the sea with my camera, notepad and pen has been a weekly dose of nourishment for me this year. It's most often meant solo time too, before I begin work. And lately it's been just a handful of minutes that it's taken to fill my heart and soul, to recharge and take stock. Perhaps I needed more time in the beginning, but lately it's been so much less - and I think that's because this has become a ritual; helped by the fact that I now effortlessly {no guilt} grant myself this time each week to just be. Just as you get better at something when you practice it, I think you get better at tuning in, letting go, relaxing and reconnecting by creating a weekly/daily space for it too. 

xx

Do you do something each day or weekly that's just for you? Something to nourish your body or heart or soul?

{~ Finally catching up on sharing this year's photo project - weekly images by the sea. Above are images 26-33 and one extra! Elisa x}

Escape

After writing these words, we decided a little escape down the coast would be the perfect way to reset our pace. And a new rhythm we found. One that's left us recharged, and filled up on the joy that is being together with no real agenda for the day. Miss four wanted a journal of sorts of our three days away to show her family and friends; these are a few of the photos {snapped with my phone!} that tell the story of our time away. Just us, simple days, exploring new places, sharing laughter, love and time.  

xx

{Also pic 34 in my by the sea series 52 project. You can view the rest of the images here xx} 

Have you escaped lately? What helps to reset your pace? X

Sometimes

Sometimes there comes a reminder to walk slowly. To wait patiently, and to let go. 

Sometimes there comes an inner voice that says stop. Just stop. Right now. And for no reason. Because you don't need a reason. To set your own pace. 

And so you choose to stop. To press pause for a minute, or two or a little longer.

And maybe it's just to breathe. To breathe fully. Those really big breaths. The ones that can take you a little by surprise and remind you that yes indeed you are alive. 

And then you find yourself realigning with your heart as you inhale, and noticing seconds as you exhale. And suddenly you realise, it takes just a moment to stop, and just a moment for things to change. And that scares you. 

But maybe that's not such a bad thing because it gets you dwelling on gratitude. True heart-expanding gratitude. And it's in those moments of true thanks that you feel your heart speaking. And it's when you turn down the background noise, that you see gratitude exists in the right now, and right here. In what is. 

And you realise that with every breath in, and breath out comes opportunity.
To see things differently. To do things differently.
To say something. Or say nothing.
To kiss softly and slowly, like time is yours.
To linger longer when you hug goodbye.
To say what you've been thinking aloud.
To create a new habit. To let go of an old one.
To choose healing. To choose life.
To choose to see love. In you. And him. And her. And them. 

To ask how love would respond. Before you respond.
To seek joy. 

And so you decide from this moment on to make a little time within each day to just breathe. Or meditate. Or pray. Or read. Or write. To create. Or just be.

To do that thing that speaks to your heart the loudest. 

To choose solitude. And time together. 

To give thanks for today, and tomorrow. 

To listen. 

And to choose to see the beauty that exists in the ordinary. in the everyday. 

in every minute. and within every single breath. 

xx

{I've been away from the online world, and away from this space I love for two weeks now. Right when I felt I was ready to jump back in! And while life has been full of wonder, joy and learning, winter's done it's trick of sending me inward once again. And that's right where I've needed to be :) This post pretty much sums up my heart's thoughts right now, and now feels a good time to share. Something has shifted here, and I'd say it's no coincidence that a new season is on its way. Elisa xx}

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}

Solitude here. Again.

I keep coming back here. Three weeks in a row. Alone for 10 minutes, sometimes a little more before the pull of work sees me checking the time and moving on. I always leave feeling recharged.

This stretch of beach is small, and almost always deserted. And I think that's why I'm drawn here - to the solitude; all the while listening to my heart, and the sounds of the wind and sea. 

xx

Do you crave solitude too? 

~ This time alone by the sea {and capturing it in photos} began as a way of putting my guiding word for this year (honour) into practice. It's become a ritual and incredibly nourishing for me. The photos above (images 23, 24 and 25/52) are all taken at the same time of day over three weeks. Elisa x

Finding joy

Joy. It keeps coming at me. In conversation. In actions. As a guide in decisions of late. I've heard the advice to act with the question "What would love do?" in mind. I love that. But lately, it's been "Will this bring me joy? How can I offer joy? And is there a joyous way to do or think about what has to be done?" The more I ask these questions, the better I come to understand what joy is to me. And the more I seem to find joy. In the little things, and even in the mundane. Maybe joy has always been there, in almost everything I have set out to do - just I haven't always been looking with joyful eyes, and it's that I'm consciously choosing now to honour my heart's kind of joy. Maybe.

xx

Are you seeking joy? What brings joy to you?   

Gratitude

As winter dances it's way into our days, time by the sea almost certainly equates to windy, cold and sprayed by water from crashing waves... 

This week I arrived early enough in the morning to surprise myself, and stayed long enough to watch the sky's colours change majestically. All the while the sea remained its dark and moody self. 

I was reminded of the many changes happening here right now, some inevitable, others chosen... and I kept thinking just how easily I could get swept up and rocked into a rhythm of looking ahead at what most likely will be, at changes expected... how easily I could be filled with anticipation, so much so that the here and now isn't fully felt at all. I can feel the pull in that direction right now... but that's very much not where I want to be. 

And so I witness the changes, and give thanks for what is... for the love I have to give, and the love I readily receive; for full nurturing breaths; for minutes alone by the sea; for little feet that run, dance, tip-toe, stomp and follow me along the floorboards; for the sound of laughter that graces our house every single day. 

I choose to not be swept up with anticipation, instead to honour the now and these very moments, all the while trusting in the next.

xx

{So very many reasons I love the practice of gratitude - it brings me back to my core - to the essence of me; it keeps me mindful; it reminds me to stop and just be; it reminds how my happiness almost always comes from the simplest things; and it always shows me beauty and wonder in the everyday. Elisa xx} 

{Images 22/52 in my by the sea series.} 

What are you most grateful for today?

Surrender

We escaped a little further down the coast. I did a lot of thinking on our drive there. And promptly abandoned thinking when we arrived. It's amazing how much more you can see and feel once you surrender. 

xx

{This is image 21/52 in my by the sea series - miss two doing some thinking of her own. And sending out the biggest thank you for the beautiful comments on my last post. Elisa x}

On my mind...

Too many thoughts racing through this head of mine. 

...I keep wondering why I still can't work out what I want to be when I grow up...

...I keep thinking how a less than 48-hour escape from routine {this past weekend} brought so much joy, so much wonder, so much of just us and felt like so much time.

...I keep dwelling on all the years I spent striving for perfection. And how long it took me to accept that I'm not perfect, never will be, and not meant to be either. It's such a relief to surrender from that never-ending struggle. I'm grateful to accept I'm imperfect and discover that's more than okay.  

...I keep remembering a little girl lacking confidence and scared to speak up. Then I see my little girl {four years old} full of confidence, singing her words, asserting herself and naming her emotions as she goes. And I'm so grateful she's not that little me. 

...I keep hearing the word joy. It's become my guiding word/emotion these past few days.

Too many thoughts racing through this head of mine.... So I think I'll just surrender from my thoughts and listen to my heart.

xx

What's on your mind? Please tell me you still don't know what you want to be when you grow up...

15 minutes

Just minutes I was gone but it felt like an hour before I looked up, remembered where I was, that I was being waited for and that I should check the time.

The sea was rough and energetic, green, blue and white in places and scattered with rocking boats. The cooler than usual wind kept catching me by surprise.

I watched the scene from behind my camera just as much as without it. And I caught myself breathing deeper, walking slower and noticing wonder every step along the way. 

xx
Ever noticed how just minutes of doing something you love, being somewhere you love and being fully present feels so very much longer? And leaves you feeling renewed and oh-so-alive?

~ 15 minutes alone by the sea. Twice. Images 18 & 19 in my by the sea series xx

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Nurture and need

There's washing to be done. Clothes to fold and sort. Beds to be made. Emails to be sent. Words to be written. Groceries to be bought. And yet here we began our day. Because today the sky looked magical, and I was just so sure the sea would be much the same. And yes it was. The sea and sky met with the calmest of blues. And were greeted by full deep freeing breaths by me, and excited shouts of "I see the water" from miss two. Because sometimes nurture just has to come before what needs to be done. And sometimes it turns out that nurture is your most important need. 

xx

~ photo 20/52 in my by the sea series x {photos 18 & 19 yet to be posted!}