Taking a chance + starting before you're ready

I've realised {in the past couple months} that I find it easy to overlook myself in the day-to-day. And the problem with that - with not carving out minutes of your every day solely for you - is that soon those days become weeks, months and you look back and realise you've made loads of plans + let ideas swirl in your head... and that's where they've stayed. As floating ideas and hand-written plans. In a notepad.

I pretty much woke up to this realisation. Just woke up and thought, that's enough. 

I realised I don't actually believe in myself as much as I think I do.
I realised that taking a chance on me is damn scary.
I realised that I've been waiting for permission to give more of my heart's writing + soul's stirrings a real go. {Permission from who, I'm not quite sure.}
I realised that now's the time. {Actually, now is always the time.}
I realised that I'm very good at talking myself out of taking a chance.
I realised that even the thought of vulnerability cripples me {used to cripple me}.
I realised that living my truth - writing it, sharing it, speaking it - is where I want to be {always}.
I realised I was giving myself the opposite advice I'd give to my beautiful girls.
I realised if I didn't call myself out on this one. Say "that's enough" and actually mean it, I'd be moving in these circles for many years to come. 

And so, I scribbled words down on paper - words + feelings standing in my way. I came up with "taking a chance on me", "trust", "authenticity" + "vulnerability". And I've accepted they're all really good friends, and I no longer want them to be a roadblock in my way.  

So I've been breathing my way forward. 

This past month has been about pulling back, slowing down and breathing with intention. Focusing on what matters most. And that's meant little time for anything that's not mothering my three + nurturing my heart. 

I'm embracing my ideas little by little, and navigating them into existence slowly but surely. And I'm starting before I feel ready. And those little steps I'm taking, it turns out they feel like bounds once you make a few.

xx

Have you taken a chance on yourself lately? Have you started a new project recently? Any lessons on vulnerability you'd like to share? 

With big nourishing breaths + much much love, Elisa x


~~~~~~~~ >> FREE PRINTS + MINDFULNESS BUNDLE: Thank you to all the lovely people who have signed up early before my mindfulness bundle + breathe prints are ready! Thank you for taking a chance on me! I've added a couple simple meditations and the bundle is almost ready to send. You can check out what's included here. Elisa xx

~~~~~~~~ >> NEW INSTAGRAM: I've created a new instagram @ohhelloheart that's solely for my writing, mindfulness + meditation. Love you to come say hi! Elisa X

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

A year of {learning} surrender

Two whole months and a handful of days into this year and I couldn't keep up. That's after thriving my way through last year. The change in emotion and pace left me unsettled for a long while.  

Change entered here in an abundance, add to that a decent dose of overwhelm, the perfectionist in me coming out to play, cue feelings of failure and then replay that overwhelm... and that pretty much summed up the first six months. Each month felt big, then the next month simply followed suit.

Among all this I wondered just how and when surrender {my guiding word this year} would surface and what it would teach me, because it was feeling far off. 

Each month I seemed to relearn surrender, reset my rhythm, and reprioritise. I felt oh-so-tested. Continually tested. 


And when I look back, I can see I let this feeling keep me away from this space. I'd come back and share, then tell myself that once I got on top of things I'd come back again. But I never really got on top of it. 

I saw surrender as calm, a slower pace and quite frankly me at the top of my game, just like the previous year. I didn't see surrender as "giving up". But, it was only once I threw the towel in on my "big plans" and preconceived ideas on how surrender would pan out this year, that surrender arrived. 

I found new ways of making space and time for breathing; I spent a lot of this year researching, studying and reading all I could on mindfulness; and I rekindled my meditation practices {finding myself meditating in five minute bursts, and amazed at what a few minutes of heart-centred awareness can create}.  

And so this year I've accepted that I'm not as good at surrender as I first thought... I've accepted that it's more than okay to schedule slow {and all that will create slow within my day}... I found myself adding meditate, write and walk to the top of my to-do list. Before all the shoulds and musts. And it turns out prioritising surrender moments is not just about mindfulness and creating a gentle kinder rhythm, but about nurturing my soul. xx

How are you? Did you choose a guiding word this year? What did it teach you, and will you choose one for next year too? 

~ I have a bundle of free mindfulness prints ready to send out, and a meditation mini-ebook coming out mid year. You can 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. 

Living from here

This is your path. 
The path your heart chose.
Soar from where you stand.

Believe in who you are.

Bring love where it leads you.
Share what you know to be true.

xx

~ I have journalled every day for almost two months now. These words were my first entry in my current journal. Today I wrote on the last page, and was reminded how much stopping for a minute or two to say "hello heart" and write from my heart fills me; and how much I want to be always living from here. Elisa x

Do you journal? What practises fill your heart?

I'm listening

I wrote about the day I learnt to breathe a little more than a month ago now. And that night I journalled. And that night I asked my heart what makes it sing. And that night and for the forty-two days that have followed I've been reminded to just breathe. 

The words could have been so easy to ignore, but I've been listening. I abandoned the blog {not quite expecting to be away this long!}, and reworked my to-do list to include the essentials only. In doing so, I created time. Time filled with little things {and my little people}, moments that have made my heart soar, big breaths, long exhalations and a stronger, clearer idea of where I want to go from here.

It's reminded me that the advice and wisdom we share (hello learning to breathe fully, trusting where you're at, and finding something that nourishes your mind and heart) is most certainly the advice we need.

xx

What have you learnt this past month? What are you most grateful for? I hope your days have been happy and you've remembered to breathe xx


{Oh and my little escape has seen me forget about my first giveaway!! Winners of this "just breathe" print are Julie @ Off to the Park and Amanda @ Homely One. Please email me your postal address withgraceandeve@gmail.com and I will send your print 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?

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

By The Sea ~ 1/52

This first week of January is not at all how I envisioned it. The plan was to laze away hot summer mornings at the beach with my two girls, picnic lunches, afternoon siestas and then cleaning up the trail of sand that always makes its way home with us...

But instead it's been crashing waves and overcast days. And still I feel called to the sea.

Today as I watched the waves pelt the sand I got been thinking about my guiding word - honour - and simple ways I could make it more part of my moments, minutes, days and weeks.

And then I realised I was already doing it. Sitting by the water, witnessing its rhythm {and my internal rhythm}. Taking time out here to just breathe, to honour where I'm at.

I'm always mesmerised by the water's view - no matter the sea's temperament. So here begins a photo a week savouring the rhythm of the sea.

xx

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

 

Just the two of us

We've made a ritual of our little walks hand in hand {miss almost-four and I}.

When we walk together I love that it's just the two of us, up in the early morning, exploring the quiet sounds of close by, taking in the sky and breathing into the cool air.

And while we walk, I always remember how precious and fleeting these moments are of just the two of us together.

Miss almost-four is strong-willed, independent, curious and a chatterbox {otherwise described as a lot like her mum}... and so our walks are either filled with quiet exploration or brimming with noisy discussion.

But often, her pointing out treasures for me to photograph.

As we walk, I try so much to take her in. As she is now. Every bit of my three-year-old, almost-four beautiful little girl. I focus on the gentleness and beauty of her hand in mine. And I wince a little when sometimes she tells me to let go.

xx

{Image above by me. Sometimes I try really hard to capture a certain shot and that's always when my little miss comes dancing into the frame. I love this photo because of that. Elisa x} 

 

 

Unscripted

With sick lingering here for longer than I would have thought {much longer than I'm happy about}, there's been a whole lot of home time and pretty much no script to our days.

I wake up and wonder what the day will bring, and I throw up a couple of options out and see what the little misses like best.

Sometimes we do a whole lot of nothing. Lying on the ground reading books, and lying on the ground with them lying on me.

We bake our bread together. I plan nutritious immune-boosing meals for our days, and my girls make soup {to make us all feel better} in their play kitchen.

But often we make our way to the beach. Miss three requests visits to the water, almost as much as my heart does.

When it rains we watch the waves from the car. And when it's windy, we make our way to the lookout. If it's sunny, we'll run on the sand or watch the sun dancing on the water from afar.

On Wednesdays we keep heading to the market, and wander rugged up down the street.
We buy daffodils and jonquils, and I sip hot chocolate while the girls play at the park.

And every night {after reading their two favourite books} my angels fall asleep in my arms.

And then I find myself getting out of bed to finish work commitments, but not getting to write from {and for} my heart.

We haven't seen much of the people we love to see this past month, we haven't had the out-and-about rushed that comes with normal weeks and I haven't been afforded the time to hit the publish button when I do write.

But always before I fall asleep I notice how our unscripted days of late are filled with heart moments.

And while at times I feel like I haven't been able to catch my breath, I think in a way it's what I needed.

Because in the not-knowing and the lack of planning, I've been propelled to move further out of my comfort zone, be even more selective with my time, to trust and move further in the direction of my heart.

So many things have been thrown up in the air this month, but it's starting to feel like that only happened so things could land the right way up.

xx

How have your days been of late? Do you stop to notice all the heart moments collected throughout your week?