Five + One
Five:
1. I Shoot Like a Girl from Bella Wish
2. Beautiful Art Rings from Liz Kalloch
3. 180 Degrees
4. Seth Minkin is on Etsy!
5. Tiffany Coates ~ Visit her website and be sure to watch this.
+ One:
I recently finished The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman and it was one of those books I never wanted to put down, and was sad when it was over. From the book’s synopsis:
In 70 C.E., nine hundred Jews held out for months against armies of Romans on Masada, a mountain in the Judean desert. According to the ancient historian Josephus, two women and five children survived. Based on this tragic and iconic event, Hoffman’s novel is a spellbinding tale of four extraordinarily bold, resourceful, and sensuous women, each of whom has come to Masada by a different path.
What can I say? It is now on my Favorite Books of All Time list, and has inspired me to plan a trip to Israel.Beautiful beyond words. Watch this video to get a better idea of how extraordinary this story is.
Step
I have been receiving a number of notes and comments lately about one role I play but haven’t spoken of much ~ stepmom. I have hinted at it here and there, and written of some of the ups and downs I have experienced in this role, but for the most part kept it on the sidelines of what I share online. I have a strong sense of privacy regarding my family, but at the same time know that the stories we have created together are among the most meaningful of my life. Now that I have decided to at least try to create a narrative of our journey, it felt appropriate to claim and declare this particular title of mine more vocally.
So here it is ~ I am a stepmom, and my family and I always laugh when we use that word. Because the first half of that word ~ “step” ~ always feels incredibly foreign to us. Not only because age differences (or lack thereof ~ my husband’s son is just four years younger than I am), but because all the accepted images and ideas of a “step” couldn’t be farther from the truth of our existence as a family. This has not come easy; it has taken years of work, commitment, trust and mindfulness on the part of all of us to get where we are. But that work ~ the work that I am still called to do almost every single day ~ is my Life’s Work. It is more important than Swirly, more important than book deals, more important than anything. It is my greatest passion, my proudest achievement, what I value more than anything else in the world.
The word family used to feel like a four-letter word to me. For most of my life I believed I was not meant to be a part of one, as every one I had known fell apart for one reason or another. I am still getting used to the idea that this is my family. Even saying “my family” in a sentence sometimes feels odd. I am still sometimes pulled back towards the old way of thinking ~ that this isn’t real, that it will fall apart, that one day some detail will shift just enough that everyone will realize I’m actually not part of this family, and kick me out to the curb. These are real fears that I struggle with all the time.
So when I say this is my Life’s Work, what I mean is this: That in those moments of prickly tension within my own heart, I am determined to choose joy. I made a commitment to myself to always move towards light, especially within the circle of my family, and this commitment has worked. It requires focused attention, determination, and it often requires me to stay the course towards joy even when my fears are breathing down my neck so fiercely it alters the pace of my breathing. It is daily work, it is challenging work, but it is my most important work, by far. It is work that enables me to say with confidence and joy ~ I am a stepmom, and this is my family.
Messy
Excuse my less-than-stellar photography work here ~ trying to balance an iPhone with hands covered in glue and paint is a wee bit tricky. I’m working on this as part of the Play Me I’m Yours project, which is being spear-headed in Los Angeles by the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra. My piano is the one they’ll be displaying for their big kick off event next week ~ no pressure! ~ so my deadline is fast approaching.
After such a long absence from my studio work, the opportunity to get messy has been a real gift. I started a series of 8″ x 8″ panels months ago, and I am now thinking of the work I’m doing on the piano as a nice segue towards those panels. A fall 2012 show is currently in the works…I’ll keep you posted.
More moments and musings to come; until then, it’s always a good time to share some of Pema’s wisdom…
“Rejoicing in ordinary things is not sentimental or trite. It actually takes guts. Each time we drop our complaints and allow everyday good fortune to inspire us, we enter the warrior’s world.” ~ Pema Chödrön
Five + One
Five:
1. A lovely review of Jonatha Brooke’s extraordinary Lincoln Center performance this week.
2. …and her latest offering on iTunes is a dreamy rendition of This Land is Your Land.
3. The beautiful Jessica Brogan recently created her own inspiration deck ~ a la Desire to Inspire ~ and wrote a very moving blog entry about it right here. Thank you Jessica for sharing this extraordinary story.
4. Maya Stein’s latest creation is now available right here. Lost Highways & Living Rooms is a collection of writings from her 2010 Tour De Word journey, and I am honored to share that I wrote the foreword.
5. Cool stuff is to be found at Areaware, a company I discovered while browsing at the MoMA Design Store this week.
+ One:
Rumor has it that I was the first person to place an order for Jen Lee’s Telling Your Story, and even though I am only just now beginning to dive into the work of it, I already consider it a close companion for a writing project that is very dear to my heart and therefore feels incredibly daunting. This is the first in what will be an ongoing series of reviews for Telling Your Story, which is really just my way of wanting to share the journey I am now beginning with Jen’s extraordinary, soulful support. More to come, but in the meantime, head straight to Jen Lee’s site and behold the wonder of her work, her stories, and her passion.
Technical Difficulties
{A photo of me I actually like, taken by Justin Davis Davanzo about 3:00am the day Faryn was born.}
Here’s the first thing you need to know ~ I have a very low threshold when it comes to technical shenanigans in the midst of socializing. What does that mean “in the midst of socializing”? It means this: You’re with friends or family, enjoying precious quality time together, and someone says, “Hey I want to show you this thing on YouTube,” or maybe it is a video on their computer, or something on their phone, or something that requires the TV to be hooked up to the microwave, or whatever. And that person thinks this presentation will require nothing more than the click of a mouse or a few clicks on the keyboard, until ~ not so fast little buckaroo ~ something’s not working…
A new version of the software is required. Or the internet is down. Or there’s a tsunami hovering over the Indian Ocean causing some kind of weird anomaly that is making the refrigerator ring and the phone ice cold. You know those situations I’m talking about.
It is those scenarios that inspire the same thought from me every time, which is “OK, the clock is ticking. I am now losing precious moments not only with my peeps, but also out of my very life.” There is something about those minutes that click by as cords are checked and videos are buffered and whatnot that make me a little bit nuts. OK, a lot nuts.
And so…
Last week I heard a song on the radio that I had never heard, started crying, wrote down the name of it, and then went immediately home in order to start working on a video for my family of the day Faryn was born. I spent all evening on it, stayed up late, and worked on it for much of the next afternoon in anticipation of a family dinner we were having that evening. I got it all shipshape, and despite a few issues with formatting, went to dinner carrying four beautifully labeled CDs with the video. I was so excited I could hardly see straight.
I told everyone I had a surprise for them, and before long we were all gathered around T’s laptop in the living room. The video began and everything proceeded as expected ~ the tears! the laughter! the joy! Until ~ screech ~ the video gets hung, and we’re stuck with the soundtrack of the CD’s labored spinning in the laptop.
Cue the first hints of my nervous breakdown.
Everyone is calm and kind and supportive, and we decide to have dinner before we try to figure out the problem because hey, who wouldn’t want to see THAT again?
After dinner C’s dad grabs his PC laptop, and I announce that I’m going to get the video going and make sure it works in the other room before we try to watch it again. I go into T’s bedroom and insert the CD. But wait ~ what’s wrong here? The CD won’t go in. So I try to pull it back out, but instead a little drawer pops out (without the CD in it.) A drawer? And that’s when I did this.
Mortified at my ignorance of PC mechanics, I bring the laptop back out in the living room ~ with the drawer still sticking out ~ and everyone says, “What’s wrong?” Fast forward five minutes later, and I am holding the laptop on its side off the edge of the dining room table while C’s brother tries to gently pry out the CD with a kitchen knife and tweezers. He is on his back on the floor, as if working under a car, and I am also trying to balance a flashlight aimed up towards the side of the laptop. Suddenly, whoosh, out pops the CD!
C’s brother then quietly takes the PC laptop over to the TV, inserts the CD correctly, plugs the two together, brings up the video, and hits play. But wait ~ what’s wrong here? The sound is out of synch. And guess what ~ that simply will not do. So the gauge on my panic meter proceeds to steadily climb, and I begin my chorus of, “Stop the video! It’s not right!”
Once again, everyone is very calm and very kind, and C suggests we give it a go in their bedroom, where an Apple desktop computer sits quietly. So the two of us go there, he connects the speakers, we drag the video onto the desktop, hit play and hold our breath, when suddenly I hear my husband from the other room saying, “How’s it going in there?” in a slightly snarky tone, where I can totally see him cracking himself up.
Can I tell you how hard it was not to march back into the living room and physically eject him from the premises?
But I restrained myself, because the video was working, and this time I was smart enough to drag it to the desktop rather than play it from the CD, where it would likely get hung again mid-video and I would have run out into the street screaming. So I go back out into the living room and wrangle everyone into the bedroom where we all circled around the computer with our faces lit up by the blue-ish light of the monitor. And I hit play, and the video worked.
And just like that, all was right with the world.
Five + One
I’m kicking off a new version of my Five Things column. Introducing Five + One ~ the usual five links plus one official review of something I love. WooHoo!
Five:
1. Jonathan Fuller Sea Glass Sculptures
3. Riva Leviten
4. It’s true ~ Reading is Fashionable!
5. Narayanan Krishnan ~ try not to cry
+ One:
My first official review is for Jessica Swift’s just-released colorful and inspirational rain boots. Although southern California isn’t known for its torrential rain storms, I ordered these boots for my mornings in the dewy yard with Tilda. I love being able to just slip these on in the morning over my pajamas, and they always make me smile. They are very well constructed – thick rubber, sturdy, and comfortable. Way to go Jessica, who launched this project in Kickstarter.
At A Loss For Words
{Photo by Justin Davis Davanzo}
…but they are brewing, and they are brewing something fierce.
Where I’m Headed
{Photo taken in Santa Monica, California last month.}
News Ticker ~ My latest interview for Global Inspirations is now up on CreateMixedMedia, and I am thrilled to have a great review of Desire to Inspire in the current issue of Inspirational Woman Magazine. See what else people are saying right here.
~
There has been an idea floating around my head for more than a year now, which is to write a book about my family. Less a memoir and more a testament to the best that we are capable of as humans (lofty, I know), my vision is that the stories would be so compelling and meaningful that the name of the author ~ Christine Mason Miller ~ becomes irrelevant. In other words, I’m not particularly interested in “sharing my life story” so all kinds of attention can be turned towards me. I am interested in giving the world a glimpse of what my family and I have created and nurtured and worked for, because I believe our stories are powerful beyond words. And I think the world needs more examples of blended families that not only work, but soar.
This idea exists in a fairly crowded space, where I have already pitched two more book ideas to my publisher, have visions of two major art shows, and am about to work some mixed media magic on a piano (more on that later.) It would therefore be woefully easy to decide, “I don’t have the time, so that is that,” not only because that statement would be true, but also ~ and more importantly ~ because I really don’t know what this book would look like, how I would write it, and whether or not I would even be able to pull it off. How on earth can I write a compelling narrative about the journey I have taken towards and with my family that doesn’t spill too many personal details about those I value more than any other on earth? It would be a tricky exercise in balance, restraint, discernment, and language, one that requires focus, commitment, and time. That feels like a pretty tall order when I look at my laundry pile every week.
To get my creative mojo going for this at least a little bit, I ordered Jen Lee’s Telling Your Story at the end of last year, and just started diving into it. And I am thinking about a story I once heard that swooped into my ears and nestled itself in my consciousness like the aroma of woodsy smoke that lingers in my hair after a campfire. I don’t know who told me this story, or when I heard it, but it speaks to this very dilemma I keep thinking I have. I’m not sure I have the details of the story quite right, but here goes…
A man walks into a small shop and sees a painting of a rooster on the wall. He asks the shop owner who created it, and the shop owner replies, “I did.” The customer, thinking he is just a simple shopkeeper, doubts his claim, so the shop owner pulls out a new sheet of paper, and proceeds to paint another one, even more beautiful than what was on the wall. “How on earth did you do that so quickly?” asks the customer. The shopkeeper takes him behind the counter, and then back behind a curtain to another room, where dozens and dozens of paintings and drawings of roosters were posted all over the walls, and the shopkeeper says, “Practice,” and proceeds to explain that he has been doing one drawing or painting of a rooster every day for the past year. Just one a day, every day.
I love this story for its very simple yet potent message ~ that if anything is to be done well, or done at all for that matter, all it takes is a willingness to do the work, which can be done a little or a lot at a time. It doesn’t matter that I’m unable to devote eight hours a day to a book about my family, what matters is that I make a commitment to do something. Now. Because if I let 2012 slide by saying, “Later, later…” then all I will have done is lost another year when I could have at least given this a go.
I have written about this before, and have, in fact, done some writing and brainstorming and note-taking for this project. I am not starting from nothing. But with Faryn now in our midst, I feel even more inspired to get these stories on paper, especially considering the profound impact she is already having on all of us. And maybe that is the nudge I needed to release all the excuses I’ve conjured up to keep me at arm’s length from this idea ~ someone who has been with us for just a few days, who I already love beyond words, who deserves to know the legacy her extraordinary family is creating for her. Funny how such tiny beings can exert such a powerful influence ~ one day I was sailing along with a gentle wind at my back, and then a new light poured in, and suddenly I saw the possibility that had been hidden beyond the horizon.
Slight change of course, full steam ahead.
Five Things
Welcome to the most narcissistic Five Things post ever! I hereby present you with five ways you can support Desire to Inspire!
1. Buy the book! It’s available on Amazon and signed copies are in my Etsy shop.
2. If you like it, tell your friends…spread the word!
3. Write a positive review on Amazon ~ this will be a HUGE help!
4. Write a positive review on your blog or website, and send me a link.
5. Ask your local independent bookstore to carry Desire to Inspire.
Thank you for all of your lovely notes and reviews. Desire to Inspire has gotten off to a tremendous start! If you haven’t read the first rave reviews, they are all right here.
The New Year
{My granddaughter Faryn, born January 4, 2012}
Whirlwind doesn’t even begin to describe things around here ever since, oh, Thanksgiving. And at the end of all the holidays, the birthdays, the book launch, and everything in between, there was Faryn, who just joined our world a little over 24 hours ago. Because I am headed back to the hospital soon to visit her and am short on time, I’ll share a snippet of a recent email to a friend, which captures much of this past week, which has been a roller coaster of emotion, love, and beautiful madness.
It was an amazing day. I have witnessed two births before, but this was in a league of its own, and such an incredible opportunity to play a very specific role that really could have been my only possible role. I literally did not say a word the entire time I was in there, and I was pretty well planted right behind T so I could get good footage of the birth from overhead without having to do full on va-jay-jay shots. Her mom was there as one of her coaches, her best friend was there for the same reason, she had a doulah, the nurse, the doctor, her husband, and his mom was sort of hovering in the background coaching and praying. So T needed no other voices, and I would have felt like I was infringing on her mom’s territory if I started to get involved in any sort of coaching capacity. I wanted to be respectful of their bond and these moments.So I was silent, and totally focused on my work as the photographer and videographer. In the background, capturing it all, taking it all in, and also, as much as I could, keeping it together emotionally. (Big tears = shaky camera!) It was an extraordinary place to be, and I LOVED just being there as an energetic support more than a vocal support. And I got such amazing photographs and videos…the light was kind to me.Everyone was convinced this was going to be a boy (they didn’t find out the gender), and after the baby came out, it was placed on T’s stomach. It took her husband a solid 10 seconds or so to remember to turn the baby over and announce the gender (we decided ahead of time he would be the one to make this announcement), and when he exclaimed, “Oh my god it’s a GIRL!” we all lost it. Unreal…and just about the best f***ing surprise I’ve ever had in my life.~I rang in the new year getting violently ill. T, and then C, and then me! all got some kind of monstrous 24-hour stomach bug. When I woke up around 1:00am feeling insanely nauseous, I was laying there thinking about how much I wanted to avoid throwing up, as it has been years since I have. It wasn’t to be avoided, naturally, and there you have it. I was on the couch all day New Year’s day, but then on January 2nd I woke up determined to go the Rose Bowl, so like a crazy woman I went. I was literally grateful to be alive (I’ll spare you the gory details of my life flashing before my eyes), so said to hell with it, and off we went to cheer on the Badgers, who lost, but it was a great game.Of course I have to think of this as a very literal metaphor for clearing things out as the new year rolled in, but I also can’t help wonder why that clearing out had to be so brutal. And I’m also thinking a great deal about the fact that I got sick four times in 2011, which for me is totally batty. Before that I bragged that I hadn’t been sick in years. Years! So I can say 2011 was an extraordinary experience of living in possibility, but I also need to take a look at why all that extraordinary-ness wreaked havoc on my body.~And your words about the book…geez…can I get them tattooed on my forehead? I want to read them everyday. I think people really are getting it, and that might not mean it will sell a lot, but the ones who are buying it and writing about it really getting it. And that is the most extraordinary gift I could ever ask for.
