stephanie lee - Semiprecious Salvage

wedding hangover

 

It's been three days and I'm still "hungover". How anyone can add actual alcohol to their systems for a gig like that is beyond me because even me, without a single drop of it having gone in my body, am totally and completely smashed. My spine is rigid. My head is thick. I just want to sleep. I'm in serious need of emotional and physical restoration. Working on it...slowly but surely.

 

The wedding is done and we are working our way back to life as we knew it before. Lots of work went into it by many hands and I learned alot about myself and other people in the process. It's all good to know. I won't even BEGIN to go into it here because I realize now that I do not write to an empty room like I used to. We (our little family) are all too connected in the oddest of technological ways and I admit that I'm still trying to get my bearings with how to manage all that. :)

Three days of setting up tents, hanging lights, scrubbing tables, moving furniture, not drinking enough water, setting a scene, changing the scene, changing it again. I could go on and on. Saturday morning theman got in a tangle with a little hillside here at the house and tore his calf muscle and possibly a tendon or two. Bad mojo...but he was still able to walk Nikita down the isle and boy did he look handsome! Growl.

There was snow at the site the morning of the wedding but by ceremony time, the sky had cleared, the ground was dry, and we were all freezing cold. I'm pretty sure the temperature was hovering below 30 degrees. I opted for layers to stay as warm as possible, unlike the summer-ly dressed bridal party, with the effect being that my already generously padded frame looked even more padded. When you're in a crowd of stunning figures in such a situation, it's best to avoid any reflective surface so you forget. Not that I really gave a hoot when it came down to it. :) One of these days I hope to get my hands on some pictures but for now, the very few I took when I remembered will have to do.

On Saturday afternoon I ducked into the garage and put all the flowers together with just me an my man to keep me company. I'm in my element when I'm doing that. I was given carte blanche. Mostly. When the actual ceremony took place, I didn't shed a tear. That, my friends, is the 8th wonder of the world because I can cry at the drop of a heart-string-tugging tv comercial. I'm not sure why I remained dry eyed - maybe it was the build up, maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the fact that I felt, in many ways, a bit disconnected from certain aspects of the moment. They stood over the pond, candles all under, behind, and above them and they stood in silhouette to it all. Regardless, I was still very aware that this was my man's first born embracing her own life to the fullest. It's not easy to lay claim to love when not everyone understands the love {I know that first hand} and she is doing it beautifully.

I suspect that much of what my body is feeling now is the residue of the emotional energy that consumed every move I made, every light I hung, every word I thoughtfully chose, every hug I gave, every agreement I kept, every task I had to prioritize, every hair on my head that I tried to make presentable (epic fail), every mantra I repeated to myself to remember the reason I was doing what I was doing, even in what I'm not saying in this very moment. I need a three day nap. Family is big business and if you manage yourself poorly, you'll drag the whole lot through the mire thinking you run the show. Thankfully, there is a lot of love in the midst of it all. No doubt it is what carries us all through. I've been with theman for almost 17 years and that means I've also been with his kids and former wife for just as long. There have been some pretty intense moments over the years, I've made some hefty mistakes and have done so much work in the quiet of my own heart as has everyone else to various degrees. We're all just doing our thing, wanting nothing but the best for each other ultimately. Good stuff.

Congratulations, Nikita and Ri. May we all be blessed by your relationship and may the love you two have for each other bring you to living from the center of your most beautiful, radiant selves.

 

ox

 

 

tiny enormous love

I stand in my half-lit kitchen, an ironing board blocking the usual flow of traffic and a puppy doing her part to do the same as well. I sharpen the knife and slide the blender base back to the wall. I hold an apple in my hand and cut it into 32 thin slices before I realize I've been counting. I feed the dogs the core segments and they saunter off to feast in peace. I become aware of something in my body, a tension of sorts, something between my shoulders and up the back of my neck and head. I think it could show up as tears so I pray for an instant and clear connection to the feeling asap. Be willing to forgive? Of course, I'm willing and so it baffles me why it's so hard to see exactly where I need to forgive sometimes. The only certain place I see is inward. There's no gift in saying to myself "You should have known better" and I find that it is becoming easier to draw my energy in to create the warmth I need rather than to keep looking for reasons why someone else has denied me of it. It's been a big misunderstanding everytime I've held that thought. Recent life events have brought so much to the surface but when you're one of a dozen fish in a tiny bowl, there isn't exactly room to flail and whine. We're all swimming around with stiff spines and rigid fins mechanically flapping back and forth to keep enough motion in play to keep from floating to the top. It's all good, for reals. Lots of love. A little bit of uncertainty but that's just part of life and new beginnings. I'm pretty sure that the amount of love we will all feel when we are finally free of our individual confusion about ourselves will be enormous. We share what we can now and it's a pretty awesome tiny enourmous already. "Infinite patience offers immediate results." - A Course In Miracles

as if

{three sisters, a bride sandwich}

Mountains of laundry
wedding-art in progress on the dining table and kitchen island
wreckage from the two-dog tornado
half the living room being taken up by bins and boxes and piles of things for the wedding
a pony with a sore throat sipping tea and reading in my bed
clean dishes to put away and even more dirty dishes to clean
a heap of burn trash spilling onto the floor
floors that need vacuuming (not to mention mopping)
taxes that need filing
course material that needs writing
a teaching schedule that needs updating
food that needs to be cooked
a hole in my kitchen ceiling where the light used to be (since before Christmas...theman is a  carpenter...think "a cobbler's children...")
a broken oven that would cost more to fix than to replace
a new found pain from tennis elbow
ruffles that need sewing
a slightly disheveled everything

This is the picture right here and now. It's all in blurred competition for the focus but today, I live in the background where there is

a new found love of yoga
a body that is gaining strength
making pretty things for a beloved daughter's wedding
the laughter (and infinite patience) of my herd
conscious immersion in happy {in spite because of everything}
the pillow of time while i am waiting to know what happens next
dear, encouraging, funny, playful, guileless, kindhearted, strong, spiritual giants friends
cooking in soft light
raw food
new piano sheet music
a day off school
a pony who loves to read
a sabbath
new boots, blood orange dress, gray ruffles peeking through
theman in his slick new wedding duds (be still my beating heart!!)
two-dog tornado pure love energy
the healing power of the body

As if I couldn't go on forever.

What beauty do you see in your view today?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somewhere in all of this

miserly heart

{{Here is where I would put a picture of things I'm making for the wedding.}}

My recent days have been filled with wedding planning (fun), Grafting Happiness writing (heaven), puppy pee spot cleaning (endless) and working out (yoga + cross fit = a whole new level of body awareness). It's all part of the adventure.

{{Here is where I would put a picture of me looking all strong and wicked powerful in a Warrior Pose.}}

I was listening to a {spirituality} radio program this morning and the guest was talking about our personal gifts and how they do not belong to us. That in fact, they belong to the community of humanity. I get it...even though I have to wade through all my defenses first to really feel and step into the truth of it. For me, at least. I think about all the work I've done, all the art and jewelry I've created over the years (a drop in the bucket compared to some folks) and it's obvious to me that the tangible version of my gifts are being enjoyed by many people. But I don't think that's the all in all of my "gifts belonging to the community".

{{Here is where I would put a picture of something I've made.}}

I could spend every ounce of energy I have making works of art, putting an astonishing amount of volume into the world, but if I did it with a miserly heart, it would all be empty. Void of any real message. Void of my gratitude for being able to live my craft and all its incarnations. Void of the spirit that would encourage one to follow her desire. And so I think of that. I think of how all I want to do when I make stuff is to make something that awakens a spirit of love and gratitude in the people who witness the work. I don't want to create separation of any kind - accidental or intentional. I think of mixing compassion, kindness, hope, playfulness, connection, and joy in everything I make and it feels like the way it should be. I am so far from adept at all of this but I see it clearly as my intention and I keep moving forward in that direction holding generosity in heart as kindly as I can. There are times when it is very, very hard. Very. (It's those times when I've confused my identity with what I do.) I am a stumbling-child-in-shoes-too-big in that.

I also include the wish for someone who has seen my work to feel inspired to create for themselves in whatever small way that may be. And the best part is that when I am giving what my heart is called to give, I am free to move into and away from it according to my heart. This means when something I'm doing does not hold my heart any more, I can release it with gratitude for the time I had with it, for the lessons I learned through it, knowing that I am being led ever forward into knowing myself better so that I can give better.

I'm going to take all this rambling, boil it down until only the sugary sauce remains and go swimming in it.

{{Here is where I would put a picture of me swimming in a giant pool full of fruity syrup. Be glad I'm not in a picture-taking mode these days.}}

"Your personal power is the wisdom of your mind + the generosity of your spirit."

-Iyanla Vanzant

 

no underwater dreams for me, please.

I was just now writing a story. It was a true story of how my organs knot up in cinematic terror when I stand at the edge of the black-green river on a hot summer day. Just summer - when the possibility that I might end up in that water in very short order to cool off is real. How strange it is for me to feel terror and overwhelming gratitude at the same time when I stand before the beauty of this part of nature. The conflict is surreal. When I'm out in the middle, feet kicking the syrupy wet, my mind implodes with the certainty that the creature living below has been waiting for me. Waiting to shudder the silt from it's scales and rocket to where I am in 6...5...4...3...2...1 feet and SNAP! I'm a goner.

I stopped writing the story in case I'm ever among company standing at the edge of the river and everyone is as afraid as I to go in the water. If in that moment they are all looking for someone to be brave because that creature needs to be called forth from the depths and wrestled to the death, I want the people to think I would do it. Because I would. If I had to and I wouldn't even let my mind go where it goes when I'm just standing there in the summer with no real imminent danger. I'm still trying to figure that contradiction in me out because let me tell you...if I have to, I'll drag your broken body from the train wreckage and deliver your baby without batting and eye. If you're loosing your mind, I'll take you by the  shoulders and tell you with a steel gaze to "listen. to. me. You. Are. Going. To. Be. Fine.". If you're shaking and sobbing and everyone around you is running circles with their heads cut off and wings flapping about, I'll drag you out of there and spray you off with the hose and then sit there in the sun with you quietly until the sobbing stops. I'd do that. I would. Because there is a big part of me that will not let the ship sink if it comes to that. In the meantime, I leave the underwater dreams to the people who won't wet the bed at the sight of a big fish coming towards her.

I'm not sure where all this comes from. But. Yeah.

Grafting Happiness Classroom is open!

Hi There,

Just a quick note to let those of you who registered for Grafting Happiness know that the classroom is now open and ready for you. I sent out an email with the class access information in it so if you don't see that soon, please drop me a line at stephanieleestudios at gmail dot com.

For those of you who are interested in joining in, registration will be open until March 10th (with the classroom being open until the end of this year!) Here's a little glimpse of the welcome message...

"The experience of happiness is not determined by what has or has not happened to you, what is or is not working in your life, or who does or does not support/get/encourage/love you in the ways you think they should. When embraced, this is the single most liberating aspect of this class...

...The fears you carry have no power over you beyond what you believe they do. Cliche, perhaps, but true nonetheless. There is nothing holding you down and nothing holding you back. If it seems as though there is, it is because of a misunderstanding you've had about yourself. We're going to gently hear out and explore this misunderstanding to release its grip on you. Don't worry if this doesn't make sense yet. Let's just hold space (and the possibility) for our happy to shine through and at the end of the month, we'll all have a greater capacity for gratitude, clarity, self-compassion and the happiness that naturally follows. It's going to be good."

The sky is confused today...sunshine or rain? Maybe both? Yes. Both is good. Maybe it's not confused. Maybe it just likes both too.

 

what better day than today?

 

There are two empty water glasses in front of me. A stack of wedding invitations destined for the post office to my right. A piece of floss, a coupon, my journal. My planner and lists are at their usual angle to my left. Our normally very well balanced pile of paper trash in an over stuffed can has found a new home on the floor thanks to a very playful puppy. She's barking in her sleep right at the moment. It must be exhausting playing and sleeping and eating and pooping and playing and sleeping and eating and pooping. Bless her heart.

 

Things aren't a total mess but they aren't super tidy either. It feels like everything is kind of in between something and something else. I'm good with that...with the in between of it all. Heaven knows I'm always somewhere on some line between here and there. The ever changing here and there. The trick is seeing that not matter what line you think you're on, you're still in some sort of here that you were on a line towards earlier. Don't miss that here. Today's there might be tomorrow's here when yesterday's there isn't even on the map anymore. I've got to make lists to keep from forgetting all the beautiful here's I want to be in for a while. Not so much my beloved daily (weekly/monthly) to do lists but more like Life Lists. Bucket Lists. Lists-of-things-to-do-before-I-cant-do-them-anymore lists. Whatever they're called, they sure are fun to make. {try it, I dare you. Don't forget to include the impossible.}

I love this list and this list and most definitely this list (especially #21). Good stuff, those lists. I might post mine right here on the side bar of this blog one of these days in case you're looking for something to do too. Like ride a train to Alaska, make a quilt, or sleep in the top of a 200 foot tree.

What one thing would you add (or start with) your list today that the very idea of doing makes your heart skip a beat? I'd love to know...(because, really, is there a better day than February 8th to start your list?)

right as rain

 

{ little Elsie who makes big messes }

It's amazing how writing out an experience is usually the catalyst for the shift. Yesterday and today....night and day difference. Pony got off the bus yesterday with a willing smile. I met her down at the bottom of the road at the mail box with a dog and puppy in tow. It was probably the puppy that made it all good in that moment. Puppies do that. Usually.

A couple of episodes of Little House on the Prarie and two avacado slathered rice cakes later (with plenty of horseraddish) and our little herd was right as rain. When we hunker down in the freshly vacuumed living room, just the four of us, and just be...well, everything that seemed so big doesn't seem so big any more. Like we might even be able to get a handle on it all. I live for that.

Today i have a pretty long to-do list (like any other day's list is short!). I COULD have put just two things on that list and had a lovely day....read and nap...but I'm looking forward to getting a few tasks behind me before Grafting Happiness starts:

Write a list of things to do before the wedding (the oldest, oldest wild pony is getting married on the 25th), do something on that list, write a list of the misc. articles of clothing the four of us still need to get to be decked out (black boots, orange heels, a new dress shirt for the man and possibly a gray dinner jacket, lace tights....), call the phone company, shop around for better internet speed, cancel the tv? (with fast internet and appletv, why pay for a bunch of channels we don't really even want?!? And we have the smallest package!) etc. etc.

Lots of phone time. A quick phone interview with a sweet gal from HILuxury Living Magazine for an article featuring my class at Idyllwild this summer made the phone time more fun. Me being interviewed for a luxury living magazine is, in my mind, the equivalent of having images of my workhorse-nothing-pretty-about-it-studio featured in a magazine full of decked out, show piece studios. Or, you know, being asked for fashion advice or writing a column on mindful eating. Does. Not. Compute.

Dang. The bag of chips is empty. Why is there an empty bag in the cupboard?

a battle hymn lullaby

The past week has been a mud-clogged boot of going going going. The oldest wild pony is experiencing her first year on the school equestrian team and it, in a nutshell, has not been what she dreamed it would be. She's no stranger to the ugly side of working with horses - the constant shoveling, the upkeep, the care and need for total awareness - but the human-to-human part of this has not been the encouraging, supportive experience she imagined...WE imagined.

I'm no stranger to hauling a loaded trailer but hauling a loaded trailer with darn near a ton of shifting weight IS new to me and I'm happy to say I've managed it pretty well. That part has been the least of it. It's exhausting nonetheless.

For those who own horses, who live, eat, breathe, and function smoothly with horses and all the related chores as part of their daily lives, this whole experience would just be another day at the farm. For those of us who do not own horses nor one speck of functional tack to compete properly, this is a total temporary change of lifestyle.

We spent the three days of this past weekend at the pony's first meet and there were some pretty heavy challenges we had to face head on. Not only the logistics of trailering back and forth each night, cleaning stalls, tacking up, untacking to retack for a different event, getting to the events on time, getting the horse to go in the gate before the 30 second time ran out (failed to make it in the gate in time at the one event pony was most excited about), getting food in the belly for pete's sake. But also weathering the emotions that ran hot in certain veins and I got a crash course in understanding that this whole experience of being the parent of an equestrian team member is not for the faint of heart.

I could write a hundred and twelve page novel about it.

The first twelve pages would be filled with the hard parts and what I am learning about myself. I am learning that I need to let go of the idea that everyone has my kids' best interest at heart. I need to let go of the idea that everyone wants to be on the same page. I need to let go of the idea that adults don't flat out lie and rally a group of willing ears around to hear the tale for what reason is beyond me. I need to let go of the idea that integrity is the driving force of everyone. I need to let go of the idea that everyone knows the difference between constructive guidance and condescending criticism and that some people actually choose the latter for some baffling reason. I also am learning that it's hard, very very hard, to hold my mother-lion tongue and that sometimes I just need to let. it. go. When it's in the walls of your own ranks?....well. anyway.

 

The remaining hundred pages  - the part I would keep close to my heart  - would be filled with my awe and gratitude for the guileless generosity of the salt of the earth people who have seen a strength, a potential, in my pony and who have given so much of their time and resources to help her flourish in her dream of being a skilled horsewoman. Pony trades stall and barn chores for the use of one horse from a friend and another woman who happened to be the one behind pony when she was rolled on by this horse on a trail ride and was so impressed with how she handled it has, without request for compensation of any kind, lent pony her patterned, winning horse to use for gaming. Our next door neighbor - a single woman with a few loose end chores around her place - is trading us the use of her wonderful horse trailer in exchange for a couple of menial handyman tasks and the occasional meal for her to stash in her freezer. My, oh, my, can i handle that with no problem! We are so extremely blessed and grateful for this generosity. We could not have done this without it.

Pony will get home of the bus within the hour and by then I hope to have scrubbed off the slight residue of sadness that has stuck my arm hairs to my skin all day from the hard parts of this weekend. I'll need to fresh and lightweight for her. She'll likely walk in with shoulders a bit slumped, her smile a bit slow to curve up, and a million questions running through her mind. Am I ever going to be good enough. What can I do to make them like me. Can I ever love what I do enough to not care if they like me. Yes. She will ask herself that very grown up question because that's just what she does. That's who she is. I, on the other hand, will have words too big for my mouth that cannot even begin to fully breathe out her beauty, her strength, and her potential but I will sing my battle hymn in her ear as a lullaby so that she can know her strength lies in compassion and courage. I will try and I'll let my arms embrace her to make up the difference of what I cannot say.

 

 

(I find it no coincidence that I have been faced with many challenges recently that have put my own writing and teaching to the test. In preparation for my Grafting Happiness ecourse, I've been invited over and over to stand in that place where I remember that happiness is a choice. In spite of everything.

 BTW, Grafting Happiness starts next Monday and no matter what chaos you have going on, no matter how much you have on your plate right now, I can promise you that this class will enhance it all because that's what choosing happiness does.)