1. I love Bleeding Heart flowers. The photo above is from my flower bed. I grew the plant from a starter cutting and, initially, it didn’t fare well. The first year, a weird mold completely took it over. The second year, frost caused all the blooms to fall off and the leaves to wither. I went outside last night and was pleasantly surprised to see this plant, that I love so much but have yet to really enjoy, blooming in all it’s delicious pink and white glory.
2. I was so happy to read this article about what is apparently a controversy in the design world: white walls. I have to admit, I have major design envy when I see all these grammers and bloggers showcasing their minimalistic style against a backdrop of white walls. I love it. Love, love, love it.
We painted out living room a light gray when we first moved in and it actually looked white. This was, of course, before the white wall trend really heated up. But it looked so cold. So stark. So sterile. I hated it. Apparently, many designers are over the white wall trend for just that reason. They are ready for stuff. For color. For pattern and texture and warmth. They are ready for the anti-Marie Kondo.
What about you? Which camp are you in? Do you love the white walled minimalism? Or do you love a good splash of color in your space?
3. So here is a story that is sad but also true – If you post enough photos of your strange but enthusiastic addiction to nineties denim, I will at first mock you, but eventually, start to feel the itch for – you guessed it – nineties denim. I will even go so far as to seek out a nineties denim skirt when I’m out thrifting. I’ll buy the crazy thing. I’ll eventually take it back, because the skirt read way less vintage and way more cowgirl than I was comfortable with, but I know that now, I’m one of them. I want the nineties denim.
4. The other day, my boys were playing in the back yard. I was in the kitchen with Bea, making a cup of coffee, when Mike pulled in the driveway, returning for the day. The boys hopped out of the tree they were climbing and ran to their dad. I scooped Bea up and, with one hand holding my coffee, I held her against me with my other. As I walked towards my husband, bent down, talking to our boys, with our baby girl on my hip, I had this flash. Things really are good. It’s all going to be ok.
5. I was in pigeon pose the other day, trying to work out some tension in my hips. One side was so tight. Not painful, just…uncomfortable. I wanted to pull out of the pose almost immediately. But then, I started thinking. Discomfort is such a natural part of life, yet my natural response to this very natural thing is…to run from it. To avoid it.
In that moment. I chose to lean into the discomfort. I acknowledged it. I allowed myself mentally to think through the frustrations that I felt with the discomfort. I didn’t attempt to pacify, avoid, or make excuses for the discomfort.
I just stayed in it.
I’ve talked about this before, but yesterday, practicing yoga reminded me that the hard/bad/difficult/sad moments of life are just as real as the rest. To avoid them is to cut out a very real and crucial part of our experience.
It’s funny, we tend to avoid that which we can not fix or change or beat into submission (metaphorically). That’s why I spend five minutes in pigeon pose on my right side, and 30 seconds on my left. I’m good at pigeon on one side. I’m bad at pigeon on my left. Being bad at things physically and mentally makes me uncomfortable.
So I run. I avoid. I don’t do those things.
The truth is, though, that the tension in my left side never goes away just because I avoid dealing with it. I can only distract myself for so long before I start to really feel the consequences of pretending.
Yesterday, I didn’t pretend. I acknowledged the discomfort, but also came to the conclusion that discomfort is not a reason to avoid something. It’s an opportunity to remember that – as real as it may be – it is not who I am. It’s simply a part of my experience.
Happy Friday, rose buds. Here’s to a great weekend, leaning into all the good, the bad, and the ugly. You can face it, cause you are you.