Bella Wish

mama clearing

"One woman's problem is a variation of another's past history, or a reminder of another's painful childhood, or is similar to something going on in another's current life. To acknowledge this may be an opportunity to see the effect that such (once forbidden) conversations can have, when truth is called forth." - Jean Sinoda Bolen, M.D. (The Millionth Circle)

A friend of mine recently returned from teaching at Squam. Aside from the classes and connection that took place, she shared with me a bit about her experience of communing with trees, water and rustic cabins and what that time in nature, away from her everyday life, gifted her with.

During this same conversation I shared with her that I was feeling extremely cloudy in thought and in dire need of some answers to some long-standing questions, specifically related to expansion and movement in both my career and at home including the hows and the whens that go along with that. She suggested that perhaps what I needed was to sit with some nature and a kindred sister for a wee bit, not unlike she just had.

Before she finished her thought I think I blurted out YES! That was exactly what I needed! A mini-retreat, close to home where I could unplug from my everyday life noise - everything from city noise to internet noise to my inner noise - and plug into quiet. The only agenda at this retreat would be to come with an open heart, zero expectation, my sense of humor and an understanding that none of us walk this path alone. The schedule would include breathing in the summery warm butterscotch scent of the trees, listening to the songs of nature, looking to wild life (and wild women) for some council, and to marvel at all those shimmering stars that are usually invisible in my big city sky.

My comadre was also ready to get back to the wild and with a wave of her magic wand the space was created. Two weeks later we were off on a quick and sacred retreat to a healing mountain that the Chumash Indians call the center of the universe. Chills, right? An hour out of Los Angeles and I soon found myself in a beautiful, spacious cabin nestled in the trees with no ones needs to tend to but my own.

I drank a glass of wine outdoors in the afternoon and sketched trees under the morning sun on a redwood deck. I hiked through wildflowers (nevermind that damn stinging ant that bit me!) and circled around a campfire with some wise and beautiful souls. I was visited by hawk, coyote, deer and jack rabbits galore. I did nothing, and everything. I was out of go-mode and simply breathing. The very best part was having her with me on this 24-hour journey. She was my trusted guide on the dusty trail.

pixie

I didn't go necessarily looking for any answers, but I suppose that is what happens when we allow ourselves to turn down the noise. Information I was seeking began to reveal itself in wild and unexpected ways yet also in very predictable ones. The answers were of course ones I had been carrying for years already - forest for the trees as the saying goes. They just needed to be called forward. This is the magic of allowing ourselves to share what's inside and be heard.  This is where we find the freedom to step into our truth.

And now here I am back in the city noise. Back to the noise of my everday life. Back in the arms of my family who are the source of my everything. I return home carried by the wisdom of this sacred mountain hoping I can use the tools I gethered while there to return to that place of silence when I need to.

As I drove home late Sunday morning I thought about other mamas who walk in my same shoes. Mamas who are at home raising their children, nurturing their families and perhaps are also building a business and are hungry to nourish some part of themselves. Mamas who are surrounded by more concrete than trees or perhaps in the midst of some type of life transition. Mamas who benefit from stepping into their vulnerability so they may listen, learn and grow from the experience. Mamas who can benefit from a break (and can't we all?) but perhaps only have a day or two to step away from their lives.

Mamas who understand that retreating helps us return more whole allowing us to be more present mothers, partners and friends. You can give yourself permission to step away from go mode when you need to.

Is this something that speaks to you?  If so I wonder if this kind of retreat is something you could use too? Do you need to plug into some quiet, or perhaps call forward some truth? Does the thought of sitting in a safe space with a small group of women in a beautiful setting stir something inside of you? Do you live in Southern California? Or want to visit Southern California?

Or perhaps you are a husband, partner or friend to a mama who could benefit from a bit of cloud clearing. Maybe you are not a mama at all, but are just feeling a recharge would be beneficial.

If so, I would be so grateful if you would leave me a comment or email me privately at stacied at mac dot com. I would like to create this space for you, and with you. For us.

 

 

mother love

Terri and Jess

I have so much love for all the mama's in the world, in whatever form the word mama takes. The ones with children and the ones with puppies. The ones waiting for their babies and the ones birthing their passions. The ones who grieve and the ones filled with hope.  The aunts, the honorary aunties, the sisters and the sister wives.

While I am beyond grateful to my sweet Isabella and Mia for making me their mama, (I fear I will never have the words to describe what it means for me to to be their mama), and for my own mama for giving me life,  I also recall this post I wrote two years ago and it reminds me to remember what this day is truly about.

I've recently been invited to circle with some truly magnificent, wildy creative, funny and beautiful women and mama's - seven of which I had the pleasure of celebrating a weekend with in a somewhat ceremonious ritual of transition and fertility for Beltane*. These women are balms for my soul. They teach by standing in their truth, love openly and fiercely, quite frankly blow my mind with their wit, wisdom and brilliance and come when they are called. I want to wear them on me like the sweetest smelling essential oils that they remind me of.

Jess & Kodiak

One of these sister mama friends just helped me fill a recent Bella Wish wholesale order of seventy-five necklaces by opening her home and her studio to us so I could work without distraction. In the time spent with her, one of us working or cooking while the other played with our children, I truly understood the collective powers of mothers working together and what many of us miss by not having these practices in place. Truly, I am still amazed at how I was able to create forty necklaces, drink two cocktails, jump on a trampoline, relax with coffee after feeding four children in the morning, stand in truth with another mama and friend, and still feel relaxed and in no way stressed with happy children intact, all in just under 24 hours. Sign me up for communal living please!

Pixie wearing her Bella Wish talisman

Having said this, I also continue to hold a sweet place of love for one woman who births so much passion into the world with her work and is now doing all she can to help another mama. She mothers in ways I simply cannot. Please take a moment if you can to read about her To Mama With Love fundraiser here, I believe it will move you as it moved me.

What I rediscover over and over again is whatever it is that we are mothering in our lives can and should be celebrated today, and everyday, and that when we birth something in our lives, whether that be our children, our dream or a published novel, we also rebirth ourselves.

Jenica, Julie and Terri

Celebrating all of us mama's - past, present and future today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* I was having this fantasy of creating time to write an entire post about Beltane, but really, who am I kidding? I still haven't written one sentence about Mia's first birthday - which took place over a month ago.

Life offline is happening much too quickly these days.

I miss it here sometimes.

 

wide open spaces

can you see the first photo above? the one where mia is crawling right off the square of the camera frame? this has been my view for the past month- chasing after a curious baby as she is off to explore the world and all there is to discover around her. i often laugh as i find myself, somewhat vainly at times, searching for the balance of filling her need to roam freely with my need for keeping her safe and in my line of sight.

this part of babyhood is new to me. isabella had only a vague interest in crawling which lasted about a week and even then she didn't travel too far away, preferring to stay close to me. Mia, as most second babies i imagine, is having quite a different life experience so far and started long distance speed crawling about a month ago - which coincidently (or not at all) is the last time i posted here.

she is simply bursting at the seams to run freely alongside her sister through wide open spaces.

this both fills me with incredible warmth and challenges my old bones

in this past month i find myself exhausted and blessed

expanding and retreating

releasing and connecting

listening and learning

rediscovering roots and stepping far outside my comfort zone

falling down and standing back up

climbing a ladder of truth and acceptance

honoring mother earth and respecting her power

paying close attention to all the beauty that is right in front of me

wanting to share and spill and write.... but also feeling limited in my time while navigating the demanding needs of two tiny humans, finally accepting that I am finding the most peace by simply stepping back, deeply listening, being quiet and soaking in all that is happening in the now.

as i strive to find a bridge between this wide open space of sharing and silence i wonder where you are.

i have no idea if anyone even visits here anymore, but if you do please share with me something good in your world today.

********

Reading about all of your lovely momentsin the comments fills me with gratitude. Thank you so much for being here and sharing these with me. xo

it's okay to say it...

Mama + Miamore

I hadn't intended on being so quiet here in this space ten days into the new year. I'm finding that as Mia exits her infancy beginnings and Isabella enters some big emotional terrain, my role as parent is fresh with new challenges and it doesn't leave much space for anything else at the end of each day. As a family we are all constantly growing and learning together. I am trying to remember to just take deep breaths each day and laugh as much as possible.

After a teary episode last week, you know the one where the teeniest tiniest thing can just send you over the edge, I was seen by someone who had recognized where I was at as she was in a similar space. She gently encouraged me to take a break and after a phone call to Jimmy we were able to meet that same evening and just open up to each other.

I know how blessed I am to have two beautiful, healthy babies. I don't take one inch of them for granted having been through the challenges of what it took to bring them here and I wouldn't trade one moment of this experience for anything. Being their mama is my absolute joy. I know what I have. I am head over heels in love with each of them; they are truly my muses. My heart swells to the point of bursting with the love I carry for both of them and oftentimes I can barely witness them without tearing up at how lucky I am that they are both finally here with me. I can't imagine my life now without either one of them. To me they are simply pure light, love and joy in every way.

But...

it also can be hard to see what we so desperately need when we are in the trenches. I don't have family close that can just drop by and take over when I need them to. I don't have a nanny, or a sitter (yet). I work from home and I am on call 24 hours a day. I had become so immersed in my mamaness that I truly had no idea that what I was so desperately needing was simply a break. I forget this at times. Sitting in a cafe with this very sweet and real mama was the perfect reminder and my energy was instantly shifted after just a few hours.

It's difficult to remember when we are feeling so isolated that we are all, in fact, connected. As parents we each share many of the same stories, though sadly many of those stories are mostly the unspoken ones. The ones we attach guilt, shame and silent suffering to. So it was so incredibley freeing and validating for me to be able to just honestly spill some of these messy thoughts I had been carrying in a safe space. Thoughts that were so filled with shame and guilt that I thought for sure that I must be the worst parent in the world only to have this lovely woman, who I think is such a brilliant and beautiful mother, sit across from me nodding in total agreement and complete understanding of what I was saying to her.

We shared many stories that night, about our children and so many other things. We didn't try and fix each other - we knew neither of us had any answers - we just listened with complete empathy, indulged in incredible amounts of chocolate, laughed a lot and each went home feeling seen, understood and renewed..

I needed the reminder that it's okay to say that there are moments in parenting that are really fucking hard. It doesn't mean you are a bad parent to say this. It doesn't mean you don't love your children or that you need a therapist or a week away from your children or the advice of well-meaning friends and strangers. It doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you to say that.

Because guess what? There is nothing to fix.

It's okay to say that you need a break every once in a while without shame or guilt attached. It's okay for all of us parents to realize that no one is perfect and none of us have all the answers, we are each just doing the best we can moment by moment, day by day.

It's okay for me to say that I need to carve out a few hours a week for myself. Away from my children, away from the computer, away from my home. It's important to know that even though my main job right now is to tend to the needs of my two angel loves that it's just important to take care of my own needs, and I am encouraging Jimmy to do the same. I need to take time to remember who I am and still do things I want to do because when I have that time away I am able to come back to my family in a more whole and present way.

It's okay to say it.

The Perfect Protest*

iPhone

I am joining Brene Brown's most awesome Perfect Protest in honor of her insightful book The Gifts of Imperfection. I look forward to reading it; she is such a beautiful and wise author.

Brene writes:

Being our best selves is about cultivating the courage to be vulnerable, authentic, and  imperfect. Perfectionism, on the other hand, is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgment, and shame. It's that simple. Perfection is not about healthy striving or being our best, it's how we protect ourselves.

Word up.

Perfectionism led me to believe I was unworthy for not being enough as I am. Perfectionism put my own desires in the back seat for fear of what others might think. Perfectionsim provided me the perfect excuse to stay frozen, scared and silent for many years. Perfectionism can suck it.

I am replacing perfect with love. The kind of self love that allows me to step into courage, vulnerability and connection with the freedom to do so imperfectly.

I echo Brene's battle call: Authentic and messy is the new perfect.

Won't you join the protest too?

unwrapping courage

 
self portrait taken with the iPhone using the Toy Camera app

I remember my first diary as a young child. It was pink with flowers and stripes and had a golden lock and a tiny skeleton key. I would sit on my sweet canopy bed in my bedroom circled by my tribe of stuffed animals and posters of Leif Garrett, Shaun Cassidy, Peter Frampton and, yes, Barry Manilow writing riveting entries on everything from what I had for lunch to who said hi to me at school that day.

I am blurry on the details but something happened during that time which taught me that the words shared between the pages of a secret diary could be read by the judging eyes of others, even if there was a sweet golden lock to protect those secret and sacred thoughts. At that point I stopped writing down my stories and wouldn't pick up a diary again for years.

I began to write in a journal again in my early twenties, mostly because I needed a place to put all the emotions that one goes through during those years and partly because a woman I admired told me she kept a private journal. My words during that chapter in my life were robust with angst, poetry, quotes, dreams, stories, fears, lessons, romance, the beauty of the moon, stars, sky and clouds and how my life would be perfect if only my boobs could be bigger and my bum could be smaller.

When I first started writing again at that age I had created an entire fantasy journal scenario in my head of how I would go about it. The posters of 70's teen idols were replaced with visions of a bubble-filled, claw-foot bathtub circled with dozens of candles and soft music. My skin would be blanketed in lavender-scented velvet water and cupped by marble smooth white porcelin. In this vision my hair would be clipped up loosely with perfectly messy damp tendrils winding down my neck and, of course, I would be creating nothing but lyrical prose in this state with a glass of wine as my companion... or sometimes a man serenading me with a guitar on the other end of the tub would appear as my companion, but only sometimes.

Oh yes. Clearly I took this newfound journal writing quite seriously if not ceremoniously and downright cheesy.

The one time I did try on this fantasy scenario (though admittingly it wasn't in a clawfoot tub and sadly there was no man with guitar) all I managed to spill onto the pages of my journal were titanic passages of cold bubble-less bath water; a lesson in how the fantasy often looks in reality.

So I dropped the journal ritual nonsense and just began writing. I wasn't diligant about it I simply wrote whenever inspiration called, which was never once in a bubble-filled bathtub.

When I moved to Alaska in the mid-nineties I found plenty to write about. Pages were dedicated just to the way the light plays with the colors in the Alaskan sky alone, though at that time part of early-twenties me still carried the false hope that bigger boobs perhaps held the key to eternal happiness. In Alaska I was deep-sea fishing, dog-sledding, mural-painting and hiking during the midnight summer sun and depressed and addicted to painkillers in the cold, dark winter learning to walk again after knee surgery. I filled up quite a few books during those times.

I had a new friend who I was just getting to know when I first moved there. He and I became very close (though not in a romantic way) and he shared with me that he was writing a book which was a dream of his. Since he lived in another state he would send me pages for my notes and feedback. I remember always being so excited when I would receive large envelopes in the mail knowing what was inside. I thought he was very talented and remember feeling honored that he trusted me to read and give feedback on something very personal for him.

I remember a time months later when we were together for some occassion. I was thinking that since he had put his trust in me that I wanted to give that same feeling back to him. I remember being quite brave (read: naive) in the moment (a moment of which I am sure there was alcohol involved) and spontaneously decided to show him one of my journals. I wasn't looking for feedback, I just wanted him to know and see a bit more of my heart.

With my heart pounding outside of my chest he took my journal, carelessly flipped through a couple of pages and quickly handed it back to me along with the words I have books filled with bad poetry too.

At that point I stopped writing again. Insecurity and fear tightened the grip they already had on me and what I took from that moment was that what I had to say wasn't worth saying. That real stories were only meant for real writers and that I was nowhere near good enough. I have carried this as my story for years.

Yes, I write a personal online blog, and have for the past five years, but fear keeps me from sharing certain stories here. My heart still pounds when I hit the publish button on a post thinking that perhaps I am just releasing my bad poetry to the world. I would like to say that this is a space where I let it all out but that's not true. But the desire is there to rewrite some of the false stories I carry and this blog is one way of doing that for me as is the personal journal I started to write in again about a year ago.

Sometimes I find that it's hard for me to share too deeply here because there are helpful souls with good intentions who want nothing more than to unwrap it all for me, to project their ideas and thoughts onto my experience, to provide me with the answer to my question. I say this because I have done this countless times with others, in the past I have wanted to fix the problem for those I care for.

It took me years to truly understand that sometimes we just need to be heard and my job as a listener is not to unwrap or fix anything for anyone else. There is no feedback for me to give unless directly asked and all I want to do for anyone who shares their heart with me is to simply thank them for their openess and gently hold a safe space for them. I still struggle with this at times, but I work on it daily.

I don't write in this space because I am seeking advice, I come here seeking connection. I come here (to the world of blogs) to explore, discover kindreds and gain insight and inspiration. To share my story and to know yours. To recognize there is a connection in our shared spaces. To be seen.

I am the only one who can unwrap the layers of my story, just like you are the only one who can unwrap the layers of yours but it's in these very personal exchanges of our collective truths and community where much of this unwrapping of our layers and seeing each other takes place.

What I am seeking to do, as are many bloggers, is create and document a coherent narrative of my story so that I am able to understand who I authentically am, where my fears and triggers stem from and why I make the choices that I do. I realize that in order to do this I need to reach inside and feel around in those dark, scary, often cold and icky underlayers, the ones that stick around no matter how much soul work I tend to do.

I often need to put on the headlamp, light a candle, grab a lantern and spend some time excavating and illuminating these places where I continuously choose resistance so I may now see them from a shifted perspective and release some of these falsehoods I carry.

The story I shared today about my journals is one that surfaced after writing this guest post for Kate's blog while she is in Italy. You can read it here.

When she asked me to contribute I just remember feeling so much resistance in searching for a story to tell that I almost couldn't face that fear. It felt easier to choose resistance rather then own a moment where I felt courageous. So instead I wrote my post from a different perspective.

After I finished the post for Kate is when the memory of what my friend told me years ago surfaced and I was once again face-to-face with my fictional story of not being enough that I have believed all these years. Whether it be here or in a private journal I want to unrwrap these stories.

Incidentely, I don't blame my friend at all; I know his intention was never to hurt me. I chose the story I carried from that day forward. There are many stories similar to this I carry, forgotten moments that took shape in the mind of a once very insecure girl who has chosen to stay small for much of her life.

Kate was right when she asked me if this was somehow "opening the doorway to the gates of hell." In a way, yes, it absolutely is. But I think walking boldly through this doorway is what will change my fictional story in the long run to one that is bigger and true.

breathing space

star lights in Mia and Isabella's room

I was sitting in the middle of a crowded playground a few days ago feeding Mia. Jimmy had taken Isabella to ride on the train and I was surrounded by noise. Obviously living in a large city means I can't escape this external noise and even in a city as wide open and vast as Los Angeles, it can feel a bit claustrophobic at times.

Mia is very sensitive to sound and was having a hard time relaxing into our normally peaceful feeding time even though she loves being outdoors and feeling the breeze on her skin. To soothe her, I tried to shift my energy by closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing as a means to relax us both.

While in this state I had a vision of myself being quiet and still while movement was in fast moving film all around me. Conversations, laughter, helicopters, traffic, children screaming and live music all competing to be heard at once, visually represented in swirling, blurry, primary colors in motion.

I don't even know why I am sharing this story really. I suppose it got me thinking about how I am craving softness and breathing space in so many areas of my life.

I am deep in the process of redefining the space in our home for as long as we remain here. Turning it over, upside down and shaking it all out as a means to welcome deep breathing, imagination, flow and play. This same redefining of space is also something I am craving to create in my work, creativity and my blog as well... turning it all over, upside down and shaking it out to reveal an aesthetic that is more authentically in alignment with who I am.

The vision I have always had for this space is one of expression, connection, healing and the journey of rediscovering the artist within me and giving her wings. This blog was born out of being so out of focus that I just needed an outlet as a way out. My favorite spaces tend to be those that incorporate clean and simple design with a focus on raw and natural beauty, connection and personal expression. I strive for this in my own spaces (here, and in my home) but notice that I can easily fill my spaces with noise and clutter and find myself with no room to breathe. When I do this I find myself out of focus with my deepest desires and intentions.

As part of this redefining of space one of the things I am releasing is Vegan Wednesday. It was a fun idea but if I am being truthful it doesn't fit in the bigger dream I have. Even though I just started this series, I was quickly starting to resent the time it was taking from some other areas I want to nurture.

Part of the larger dream for me is structuring my life in such a way that I am able to fill it with only those things which connect me with peace, joy and a deep sense of contribution and fullfillment, and releasing the rest - a continuous experiement in trying on what works and what doesn't.

I don't mean this to sound overly dramatic and I am not saying goodbye to sharing recipes altogether on my blog, after all food = connection to me, but am just trying to create more space in my life for things to happen a bit more organically, authentically and from a place of feeling inspired rather than from a place of self-imposed obligation.

We are all given the same amount of hours in each day and I am simply adjusting how I use my time. How do you create breathing space in your life?

closing doors so that new ones may open

new directions ~ canon digital rebel xt

i write this bundled up in blankets, a box of tissues nestled close by my side and my thoughts running in a million directions. so please, excuse the foggy dialogue. i picked up a nasty cold last week while in texas and while i will go on record to say that being sick while pregnant is no picnic, i have witnessed great kindness as 2007 came to a close.

truth be told, the funniest part of our austin trip was that we never even made it to austin. we missed our outgoing flight (due to a gate mixup ~ and flights being ridiculously oversold) and flew out two days later where we traveled straight to jimmy's parent's for christmas, who are in southern texas.

while enjoying ourselves in jimmy's childhood home, jimmy's mother, sister, and four of the comadres held a baby shower for me the day after christmas. thirty members of their tribe, the majority of whom i have never met, showed up to shower me with congratulations and gifts for the newest de la Rosa tribe member. can you imagine thirty strangers happily showing up to celebrate the arrival of your new baby? in a way, i suppose it's not unlike what happens here in our blogging community except for that reading someones thoughts and words does connect you without physically meeting. all these people know of me is that i am married to jimmy, their comadre's son. i was overwhelmed by their kindness. overwhelmed. southern hospitality is certainly unlike that which is found in southern california, that is for sure.

after saying our goodbyes, we drove to stay with our friends who live in lake travis ~ located just outside austin. jimmy and i threw a dinner party for some friends and i caught my icky bug right after that. it's been a nasty one that just won't go away, and i spent my final few days in texas bundled up in blankets in bed, never once making it to austin. i will say being pregnant while sick has a few advantages: i have been pampered the entire time by our friends with warm baths, plenty of back massages, hdtv, tons of juices and teas, hugs and jimmy's famous healing chicken soup once we arrived home. i know, i know, enjoy it now because it won't be like this once the baby arrives. {wink}

during this time, i had plenty of moments to contemplate some of  what i wish to accomplish this new year. to be sure, 2007 was a year of huge transition, growth and healing for me which brought many blessings as well. i want to give thanks to 2007 for further opening up this amazing blogging community to me, which i believe has saved me in many ways. i have been blessed with new, powerful soul friendships through blogging as well as deepening those close friendships that i had prior to blogging. i started a business in 2007 (a lifelong dream) and happily discovered in july that i was blessed with my third pregnancy. the one pregnancy that looks as if might just result in our first child, a gift i am blissfully thankful for each day.

as i was counting my blessings as 2007 was coming to a close, i realized that i want to manifest more of this goodness for 2008. here is where things get tricky because i am also starting to realize that to manifest certain dreams to come into our lives, we sometimes need to let go, and close some doors on some other areas to allow those new dreams to flourish.

as a soon-to-be new mom (one of these days i will be able to write that without freaking out), one of the ways i hope to teach our child is by example. my wish is not for her to do as i say, not as i do. my wish is for her to see her parents living their dreams so that she will truly know she can accomplish whatever it is she sets her mind to, and to know her dreams will be supported by us. i believe she is lucky because she will be raised by two people who are in a very loving, respectful relationship. but i also want her to know that she has a pretty artsy, creative mama (and papa) and while i feel there are many years i let the artistic, creative side of me fall by the wayside, it would break my heart for her to think that her mama never did anything to remedy that.

all this to say, i feel this is the time to start paying attention to the new directions that are calling out to me. there is some new, positive change and growth that i am working towards for 2008 and beyond.

one is the new direction of clover & sage.

catering has been really amazing for me and has allowed me to understand that i can excel creatively when i put my mind to it. designing menus, making people swoon when they taste my food, and helping to create successful events helps me to understand that it is about finding meaningful work and that life truly is too short not to do what you love.

i used to struggle thinking that "meaningful work" was about saving  the world, or finding cures for diseases, therefore already thinking i would never be good enough and had already failed. that is until i realized, as my oh-so-wise friend michelle once stated, "the world needs your voice and your vision". now i clearly see that finding meaningful work is about making your heart sing, following your inner passions, sharing your vision with the world, and touching someone's life with what you do. we all have this inside us and it is our job to discover it, nurture it and see it to fruition, whatever your it may be.

while catering has been amazing for me, jimmy and i have decided to work together to take the vision of this business in an entirely new direction. our dream has always been to work with food in some capacity and we realized early one morning a couple months ago that we both saw clover & sage as a brand, a label to bring our vision and love of natural, artisanal food into the world. around november, we started to work with a distributor and are now set to soft launch some artisanal, organic salts as a sort of test run and to get some feedback. that is what those photos above are all about, we have been busy bees around here.

from there, our goal is to play with some infused salts, herbs and non-perishable items, eventually moving into perishable items (an organic baby food line?) and since we are grabbing the brass ring with this one, an eventual clover & sage cookbook. because i can clearly visualize all of this, i am booking a few sessions with a life coach to keep me on track, accountable and hopefully talk me off the ledge and quiet that voice when need be. you know that voice, the one that says things like, "are you high? who do you think you are trying to take on something so huge? those types of dreams are for others, not you." it's time to ban that voice.

there will be a website coming soon where we will have an online store, share recipes, a newsletter, giving back to the community, etc. all under the clover & sage label. there will also be a blog.

which brings me to this blog and closing a big door.

i started schmoopy on a whim. it was/is a much needed outlet which soon turned into a way for me to excavate the creativity that was itching to get out of me as well as became my therapy. so much has happened personally since i started writing here two years ago, and as all things in life, new roads begin to open and life happens.

the thing is, schmoopy no longer seems the right place to chronicle the next chapter of my life ~ motherhood.

because my wish is to chronicle both the early years of my daughter's life along with the re-birth of my own creativity, i feel like it belongs in a brand new space, one that is dedicated to focusing on being both a mother and a woman and all the twists and turns that are sure to come along with the journey. i am afraid this space just doesn't feel like the right home for this next chapter.

so, it is with all of this, and with many mixed emotions, that i will soon be closing the familiar door here that is schmoopy and spreading my wings into the great unknown. it's been an amazing ride.

while clover & sage is something jimmy and will be exploring together, i realize i still need my own creative outlet which is where my etsy store comes into focus. yes, i realize that i am insane by launching two new projects and raising a newborn, but the timing also seems so right and meant to be. my expectation for all of this is not perfectionism in these pursuits, it's more about the journey. my goal for 2008 is to be in a place with both of these pursuits to financially be able to leave the corporate world forever and once and for all be my own creative boss.

my etsy boutique will be called sweet jane studio which will be my little area of the internet to share my designs with the world. it won't be fully open until the summer time as there is a lot of work to still be done, but part of my new blog will also be chronicling the launching of a new business since i know part of the fear of launching a new project for many of us is actually making that first scary leap off the cliff. especially with a baby in your arms, but still knowing that somehow the net will appear.

of course now the fear has shifted. for me, the fear is no longer about taking the leap, but what happens if i don't take the leap. where will that leave me? that thought is far more scary to me. perhaps getting to that place is the first step to finding your wings.

but i will say this leap is due to those of you who already have already found your wings and have opened successful etsy businesses, or any business, of your own. you are all my glitter-filled muses. being surrounded by creative kindreds makes it easier to see the net and find my wings. so to those of you ~ you know who you are ~ thank you. you are my daily inspiration.

we still are determining a launch date for the clover & sage website; however, my new creative mama blog (name still tbd) will debut march 1. because i need this precious time to get to work, there will no longer be long, meandering posts written here. however, i did want to use the last couple months here to leave on a graceful, inspirational note.

my beautiful friend jen, sent me the most lovely quote book last year simply and profoundly titled, be.

as often as i can, i will post a quote from the book (along with a photo taken with my new bad ass christmas lens) as a way for you and i both to keep that inspiration flowing for an unbelievable 2008. 

here is the first:

be proactive:

"whatever you are meant to do, move toward it and it will come to you."

~ Gloria Dunn

happy new year ~ may all your dreams come true in 2008.

the awakening of dreams

some treasures belonging to my great aunt mabel

I've been dreaming of the boxes of vintage photographs and letters I inherited from my great-grandmother
I've been dreaming of vintage typewriter keys
I've been dreaming of solder and flux
I've been dreaming of violet stained glass and initial pendants
I've been dreaming of romance and magic and memories on a chain
I've been dreaming of penned letters and lavender ribbons
I've been dreaming of lilac moments and velvet prose
I've been dreaming of baby shoes and soft kisses
I've been dreaming of daguerreotypes and party hats
I've been dreaming of chipped vintage vases filled with used paintbrushes
I've been dreaming of harlequin patterns and rustic edges
I've been dreaming of silver findings and celebrating history
I've been dreaming of the prolific stories that vintage pieces tell
I've been dreaming of my time spent in paris
I've been dreaming of a certain song recorded by the Cowboy Junkies
I've been dreaming of collages filled with mysterious photographs, patterns and vintage fonts
I've been dreaming of delicious words and shimmering crystals
I've been dreaming of messy spaces and busy hands
I've been dreaming of swirls and sparkles, buttons and lace
I've been dreaming of these things for a long time and wondering how they fit together...

I believe the dream has finally awakened from it's deep winter slumber

What's in a Name?

Canon Digital Elph 200s

Alternate post title: Further evidence as to how I over think things causing me to be insane

I haven't been posting my Artist Way check in's lately, but I am actually up to Week 5 at the moment and have never made it that far in the book before, so I am actually proud of myself. I am taking it slow and going at my own pace, but I am going to finish it this time around.

During Week 2 , which was all about recovering a sense of identity, something big happened. Well, big to me. I mentioned it at the end of that post, and have been struggling with what to do about it since. So I decided to present it here and ask you all for some advice.

Back in February when Denise and I went to see the psychic something happened that floored me. When we first arrived and I was escorted to her waiting room (which was so fabulous by the way) Denise told me as she followed the psychic into her reading room she was asked, "So you are Denise and your friend is named Stacie?"

She replied yes, but was sure to tell her that I spelled my name with an 'ie'.  Denise told me the woman looked at her funny and asked if she was sure because she wasn't feeling that was the spelling of my name. She had it written down as 'Stacy'. I was in the waiting room at the time and didn't know this exchange had happened until Deni and I shared stories later over wine.

~~~~~~~~~

I was born Stacy Anne Manning. All through elementary school I was a pretty happy kid but something happened when I started junior high school and I felt the need to create a new me I suppose, stand out in some way, create a new identity for myself. Middle school years are some of the toughest years many of us experience, so, thinking I was, um,  cool, or whatever, I changed the spelling of my name to Stacie. It's a legal name change, all my documents, social security card, passport, etc. state my name as such and it became the name I have identified with for *gasp* twenty-six years now.

When I became an adult I would often think about changing it back to Stacy ~ increasingly moreso, lately. It was the spelling I was born with and there is something about it that feels more, I don't know, real to me now. My mom put an 'e' on the end of my middle name, Anne, because she liked the aesthetic of it so I suppose she liked the spelling of Stacy too. I asked her recently if it ever hurt her feelings that I changed the spelling of my first name and she said not at all. But the weird thing is everytime I think of doing something creative ~ start my business, sign a painting ~ I want to spell my name Stacy, with a y. One of the movies I worked on even "misspelled" my name as Stacy in the credits. When I first saw it that way up on the screen, I smiled.

~~~~~~~~~

So, Denise floats out of her reading positively beaming, and I am open and ready as I go in for mine. She begins by asking me to spell my name and I tell her S-t-a-c-i-e. She gives me the strangest look and asks if I am sure. I then tell her I was born with the spelling S-t-a-c-y which is how it is spelled on my birth certificate. She then looks as if it all makes perfect sense to her and tells me that I am unequivocally a Stacy as I am absolutely NOT a Stacie. She then goes on to explain the roles of numbers and letters, which all go completely over my head, but tells me I need to change the spelling back to Stacy as part of my creative growth. She then told me I didn't want to know why I was not Stacie, with an ie. She then gave me a visual by standing up and lifting her arms high above her head forming a 'Y' with her body explaining how this letter allows me to ask for what I want from the universe while simultaneously also being open to receive what I ask for.

Honestly, I don't know what all this means, or if I believe there is so much in a name, but I have been thinking about it non-stop since I spoke with her that day.  I think this has what has been rendering me frozen from actually doing things like printing business cards, etc. because I am feeling conflicted in my identity.

I had a long talk with Jimmy about it, told my mother and a couple close girlyfriends who each gave me their thoughts. Now I am asking all of my bloggie sisters and brothers. What would you do in my situation? Am I overthinking this? Am I crazy? Do you think there is something to what she is saying? Has this happened to you? Is there really that much in a name? Do I really want to go through all the bother of changing my social security card, driver's license, back accounts, etc.? What about the things I can't change like my marriage certificate and email accounts? Would you if someone told you all this with fire in their eyes? I think I know my answer, but I just want some feedback as to what you all think.

Thoughts? Comments? Insight? Suggestions? All are welcome... thank you.