Inspired Motherhood

I am on a very important mission. What, you ask? Ok, I'll share it with you.

To truly know, celebrate, and invite others into the joy of motherhood. I believe that motherhood is beautiful, inspiring, delightful, purposeful, fulfilling... if you deem it so.

Consider this. Being a mother allows us to step into the land of creativity. We invent the structures for our children, we engage them in games, learning and play, we get messy, we make it up as we go.

Day 1 with Amelia: I sat on the couch with Joe, and said something of the sort, "Seriously, how can they leave us with a newborn and expect us to know what we don't know?!" (This, by the way, coming from the couple who checked themselves out of the hospital 12 hours after Amelia's birth because we wanted to be home. I planned a homebirth and was intent on recovering, and discovering her, in our home.)

It is the greatest challenge and the greatest blessing of motherhood - this concept that we create our own structure, we design what motherhood looks like for us.

And here is where we get hung up, right? We scour books, try to decipher society's messages, ask our doctors what we should do. We get really hung up on getting it right, being perfect (or figuring out what that even means), and being seen as a competent mother.

There is apparently a book called The Feminine Mistake out there. I have not yet read it. I am a feminist. I believe in the progressiveness of women's rights. But, I believe the feminine mistake is foresaking our hearts, giving power to outside forces (whether it is blindly following parenting philosophies or creating rules that become our mazes), and losing ourselves rather than finding ourselves in motherhood.

I will not pretend that motherhood is always easy or enchanting. And yet, I know from experience that an ordinary day can be beautiful and purposeful, rather than exhausting and confusing, when we shift our focus and take care of ourselves.

That is my personal mission. To know the power that lies within myself, and other women, to create, to enjoy, to transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. And to be responsible for ourselves, our gifts, and our longings along the way.

Did I Tell You?

On my 19th birthday, my mom gave me a little book called "Did I Tell You?" by Elizabeth Knapp. I was so moved by the words in this book, and every so often open it up and read it through again. Each time, I am touched. Now that I have a daughter, these words are even more significant, more beautiful. I want to share some of it with you. She wrote it apparently as she pondered these questions with friends as their almost grown children went off on their own...

"For all who have wondered... Did I tell you?

Did I tell you to love, not with a fairweather love, but with a love that accepts and cherishes unconditionally. Love not with a quick and passing love, but with a love that is a quiet peace within your heart.

Did I tell you to be thoughtful. Not to be a martyr or doormat to be trod upon, but to be aware of other people and their needs. To meet others with awareness and within your own framework be able to meet them halfway and on occasion go the other half joyfully.

Did I tell you to be bold. To be not afraid of the unknown, but to live life to the fullest and meet each new experience with joy and anticipation.

And did I tell you be cautious. To temper your daring and sense of adventure with good judgment and consideration.

Did I tell you to serve other people if only in a small way. There is growth and satisfaction in being part of something larger than yourself and your life will be richer for knowing this.

And did I tell you the joy and challenge of being a woman. The joy of having a child, knowing and sharing a new life. The joy of making a home...the center but not the limit of for the lives of those you love. The joy of exploring a third dimension...a world of your own, discovering and fulfilling your own capabilities.

Did I tell you these things as we went along the way? If I did I am humbly grateful. If I did not then you must choose them for yourself. If it has meaning accept it and make it your own. If it does not discard it. Your life is yours to build as you choose.

And did I tell you... I hope it will be a good life."

Even now, as I read these words (and there are more in the book), it brings tears to my tired (teething nights) eyes. What will I teach Amelia along the way??? Did I tell you... I hope it will be good.

Hunger & Fullness

Let's talk this morning about hunger and fullness. I imagine that you, too, know women who use food to stuff their emotions, whether it be pain or joy; Or, perhaps you know women who deprive themselves by counting every calorie, not allowing themselves to fill up that beautiful belly (and life?) of theirs.

Me? I often find myself reaching into the fridge, on autopilot, when I am at the peak of creativity, or feeling unable to solve a problem.

What are we, women, really hungry for??? What is the fullness that we seek, or avoid, but none-the-less crave? Why do we often reach for "belly-fullness", when really we want soul-fullness.

What does soul-fullness look like? Here is what I hunger for:

I hunger for connection with God, and a sense of mystery and synergy in the universe;
I hunger for love, for whole-hearted, I-see-you, love;
I hunger for joy - delighting in being alive and this (extra)ordinary day;
I hunger to create. To express myself through my imagination, my hands, & my ability to make something ordinary into something magical.
I hunger to share my experiences as a mother. For those super-market moments of "I've been there, too; Isn't it (exhausting/wonderful/fill-in-the-blank)?"
I hunger to fulfill my purpose. To help women create joy, express themselves, design their lives, illuminate what matters, to be and give their best and to surrender.
I hunger to feel alive and strong and powerful in my body. To challenge it and to appreciate it.
I hunger to know myself. To really know myself. And, consequently, to express myself.
Lastly, for now, I hunger for rest and peace of mind. To know that whatever happens, I'll handle it. To know the difference between what really matters, and what only momentarily matters.

And so, yesterday, as I devoured a handful of white chocolate chips, I realized that I was really hungry to express myself in that moment. I was working on a workshop and struggling to describe it. Only, I didn't really tune into my hunger. I was on auto-pilot.

And, so, today I vow to listen to my hunger. To differentiate between hunger to fill my supple belly, and true hunger.

Why I love my husband...

I am inspired today to share with you some of the reasons that I love my husband, Joe. It is a rainy Sunday, and we are coming down off of a busy weekend, which we shared with my sister-in-law, Teri. Teri took the train from Philly to be with us, and was a stellar saleswoman in our annual yard sale. (Our yard sale is a clearing out ritual for us.)
Ah, so deep breath as I relax into the beginning of a new week (why do they call it the week-end??) and listen to Amelia playing in her crib upstairs and Joe laughing at the Saturday Night Live spoof skit about Hillary and Sarah Palin. And this is why I love my Joe...
He has these deep, beautiful blue (oft greenish) eyes that penetrate my being. When he really wants my attention, he gently puts his hands on both cheeks, moves his face to close to mine, and stares into my eyes before posing his question... "what do you need from me today, love?", or "what do you need to take care of yourself?", or "what do you want for dinner?" Just now, as I typed that last question, Joe came over and put his chin on the top of my laptop screen, smiled, and asked me, "whatcha doin', honey? Blogging?" So sweet.
Over the very best burger EVER (Mr. Bartley's in Harvard Square) yesterday, I shared with Teri that I am filled with love for Joe when I watch him explain something to someone. You see, this gentleness comes over him, and he breaks down his knowledge, insight or perspective into small bits and then lovingly feeds them to his listener. His knowledge, his giving of knowledge, is nourishment.
My sister once commented that he is one of those incredibly intelligent persons, who you would never know is so intelligent. It's a complement, really. He is down-to-earth. He has social awareness, as Teri put it. He has a sweet heart, as I put it.
This morning, after coffee and breakfast, we proceeded on separate errands. He to the hectic Babies-R-Us with Amelia for some safety gates, and I to the local Whole Foods for some groceries. "Did you remember to buy water?" he asked me as he entered the kitchen. "Yes, of course." I replied. "You are the best." He responded. I smiled. "No, really, Erin. You are the best." he said again, softly, and looking into my eyes. And my smile got bigger. "Thank you, Joe." It seems the feeling is mutual then.

Yoga & Re-birth

I began my adventure this week with two hot yoga classes; It was my first time back in three years. I remember now why I loved it back then. It is a perfect balance of strength and effort and surrender. The teacher began the first class by asking us to create an intention to hold for the next 75 minutes. I set mine as "kindness". I am competitor, a striver, and, at times, a bull in a china shop. And so my practice was to allow myself to rest or modify when I needed to, and to allow that to be ok. Our teacher reminded us to be grateful to ourselves for showing up, to listen to our bodies, and to give ourselves permission to rest. A novel idea. Giving ourselves permission to rest; to cease striving; to be, without needing to be more, to be further along, to be able to do what s/he is doing. Ahhhhh. How yoga doth teach us...
And, although it's only one week into my challenge, I must admit that I feel a swell of energy and enthusiasm for these next four months. I want to do all of those things, and, if you will notice, there is not a single "resolution" on there, i.e. "eliminate caffeine", "lose 10 pounds", "double my client base". Rather, this is a rebirth of sorts for me. A way to re-engage in my life as a 30-something woman who also happens to be a mama now.
I was pregnant with Amelia for 9 months before she was born. She is now 9 months old. Perhaps I've been pregnant with the next iteration of my life, holding the mystery of how to include it all. It reminds me of the Chinese symbol, the yin and the yang. The birth of Amelia, and the re-birth of her mama.
On the yoga mat, I am reminded that there is a flow and a balance; a time to rest and a time to strive. And to appreciate ourselves for showing up.

My Personal Adventure Challenge

Adventure - An exciting or very unusual experience; Participation in exciting undertakings; A bold, usually risky undertaking; an undertaking of uncertain outcome.

So, here goes. Let me begin by saying that I accidentally deleted a very lengthy post that took quite a bit of time. Starting over is hard to do, pardon the lyrics. It reminds me that starting over, starting a new chapter, is at the heart of this blog post.

I will also add that, as a coach, I challenge women to 'get out there' and practice showing up in whatever area they want to expand. It is simple, and yet it is rarely easy. We feel comfortable and safe as things are (or so we believe), until we arrive at a place where we simply must risk the unknown, the scary, the stretch; or we catch a delicious glimpse of what could be and we are hungry.

For me, both are true right now. Feeling particularly exhausted this past Saturday afternoon, my husband suggested that I go for a bike ride. I started to make some excuse, and then, within moments, said "yes!" and ran downstairs to dust off my bike, shoes and helmet. It has been two years perhaps since I've been on that bike. I was out the door in a heartbeat, without a clue as to where I was headed, and found myself delighted as I rode through Back Bay, along the Charles River, over the bridge, and back into the charming city we call home. Ooooh. It was exactly what I needed. Fresh air, freedom, adventure, feeling alive.

And so last night, energized after the Red Sox game, but longingly wishing that we had gone without Amelia (I watched one inning of the game), I lay in bed restless. Ideas and desires were racing through my mind. I decided to get up, go downstairs and write them all down. Once they were out of my head, I would be able to rest. And it worked (eventually).

When I woke up this morning, I had a long list of what has now become My 4 month Personal Adventure Challenge. I am sharing it with you as a way to hold myself accountable to following through on it. Each of these challenges is meaningful to me in some way. Let's just say that baking an apple pie from scratch completely intimidates me. I am not one for precision, and so my baking ? often go array. And yet I secretly wonder, "can I do that??" every time I see someone else's apple pie creation.

Its the culmination of these challenges that I believe will propel me in the direction that I intend to go. I chose those that will energize me, delight me, or connect me to sources of nourishment. While some are more playful than others, most seem like a (gulp) big challenge. Taking time for myself in and of itself is a challenge these days with a 9 month old and a relatively new business. And I pulled a muscle just getting onto the soccer field this summer, which was the end of any running attempts.

So, here goes.... (drum roll please...) Remember, the challenge is doing all of this within 4 months, starting now!!!

1. Climb to the top of a local mountain/large 'hill'
2. Travel to Germany.
3. Run a road race.
4. Log 20 hours of hot power yoga.
5. Bake an applie pie from scratch.
6. Row the Charles River.
7. Host a coctail/holiday party.
8. Reunite with a long-lost friend.
9. Attend 3 stimulating events, like book-readings, speaking engagements, etc.
10. Visit 3 museums that will enlighten or entertain me.
11. Make a home-made, meaningful gift for someone special, who will least expect it.
12. Make a bold change to my physical appearance.
13. Cook 25 new, delicious & nourishing recipes (the apple pie counts as one!).
14. Do something to help the local homeless people that I see daily.
15. Get a custom jean fitting in Philadelphia (Charlie's, I believe).
16. Go to a swanky NYC restaurant for coctails.
17. Find a way to help support my presidential candidate's campaign.
18. Surprise Joe. (Shhhh... he's reading this)
19. Plan 5 pampering, indulgent, wonderful experiences for myself.
20. Organize a gourmet picnic.

And here I go...

A Spoonful of Truth

Ok, it's time to get honest with myself here. A year and a half ago, five coaches, including myself, created the "creative coaches alliance" where we meet monthly by phone to discuss hot coaching topics. We met for only the second time in-person on Friday, and only three of us were present. We chit-chatted for a little while, and then my colleague posed the question, "what's next for our group?" That is when my other colleague shared that it was time for her to bow out. Perhaps it was a natural ending for the group anyways. After all, some of us don't show up when we say we will, or cancel last minute, or seem to have too much going on and don't make our gatherings important. She had been scheduling her work around these meetings.
I agreed, and yet I also felt disappointment. My disappointment was with myself. For nearly two years, I have had this group of creative, bright, talented, and interesting women at my ear, if you will. And, yet, I have failed to "show up". I don't mean in the physical sense, though I did miss a few meetings after Amelia's birth. I mean to fully show up and consciously choose and design how to use this resource. I drove home from our meeting with one question on my mind "how else am I not showing up fully?"
Take this blog. I created it one afternoon during Amelia's nap. I put my intention out there that other women will respond, share, connect here, and its been sparse to say the least. Why is that? I'm not sure that I even sent this link to anyone.
Continuing on, my college roommates and I used to joke that we could never throw a party. We would plan for 50 and end up with 15. I remember worrying that my wedding reception room only held 80, and yet we ended up only needing 50 seats. Ok, so it was in Ireland. But still...
What is at the root of this divide between what could be and what is? Commitment. If commitment feels like one of those 'hard, must-do, feels like an obligation' kind-of words, I challenge you to see it otherwise. Commitment is about being in integrity with ourselves. I am speaking about the kind of commitment that stops me from eating the half pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food Lite because I choose to feel great in my body (and not heavy from all of that corn syrup additive junk, even though it tastes good going down), and to save my money for more fulfilling indulgences (like a few days in Germany with my best girlfriends). The kind of commitment that, when it comes to my coaching group, means that I take the time to ask myself, "how can this group serve me? How can I serve this group?", rather than "can they hear me silently chomping on carrots while I chase Amelia around as I balance the phone in the crook of my neck?"
When there is a lack of commitment, I feel caught in the divide. There are often two opposing feelings (i.e. I want to create this blog and I am not sure how much I want to be seen), which creates an inertia. When I connect to the higher purpose, I am much more able to make the commitment and to begin to take steps towards truly manifesting my vision.
Now, in honor of my commitment to create "down time" in my evenings, I sign off! Cheers!