27 Gifts

 I've been gone a while...about a year.  I've been pretty much hiding and trying to find myself at the same time, really just getting by and trying to make it feel like enough.. A move I didn't want to make and well just life and what it throws around.   But now seems like as good a time as any to show up, like really show up.  You see this is a time of what feels like the most important days of my life.  I'll tell you why.

I'm turning 60 in 27 days.  Seriously you all...60.  I'm sort of struggling with it and not because I wish for my lost youth back.  Really NO.....  But more because I'm not where I would like to be in life. I've let comfort and fear hold me here.  60 feels like the something is whispering...."Are you kidding me??? You are going to do it like this?"  I'm simply not living the life I know is my best life.  So that crap needs to stop.  I'm not going to whine, blame or deflect.  I need to change some things and some of those changes are going to be well...not so comfortable. I need to live free and happy to just be me and that is going to rattle some cages.   I must do better for myself.

I find that I'm deeply reflective but also ready to stop being so serious.  It's time to have some fun and take off the heaviness that I've worn around for more than a couple of years. I am by my very nature a extroverted introvert, a quiet and loud girl, tired and energetic, happy and sad, afraid to speak up and wanting to share my voice..  I'm a study in contradictions.  My own problem and my saving grace. And with all the over thinking and wanting simplicity, the one thing that comes back to me is my overriding need for connection and belonging.   In short, I need to love, be loved and live with my heart a little closer to the surface.  I need to live my life unafraid to be who I am.  Stop defending my way in the world and stop letting myself be where I feel wounded and small. And goodness knows I really need some fun.  Life has to be more than sadness.  I must  do better for myself.

So in all of this internal chaos, let's add in the impending empty nest.  Okay not totally empty but my last child of 5 is a senior in high school.  Since the age of 23 I've been mothering as my first job. I don't always get it right, goodness knows there are some things I wish I could do over and take back and make right and fix.  But I can't.   I hope they all knew I loved them first and foremost. I hope they understand that if nothing else.  So at an age when most of my friends are traveling and retiring, I find myself for the first time in my adult life needing to have my own adult life that isn't solely based on who needs me when and where and figuring out what they need to eat.  I find myself knowing that I need a life that isn't completely about my children.  That is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.  While my youngest two are going to be around for a bit longer,( they have chosen to attend Junior College and live at home), life is changing fast.  When they are here, they are together, preferring each other's company to mine.  And that's as it should be. I know that these days are gravy.  On Friday nights watching my  youngest play the last half of his senior football season, I know the moments like this are ticking by faster than a stopwatch.  He drives himself to school and where he needs to go.  I go to the gym with them a couple of times a week and am grateful for that time and attention.  But clearly, I can no longer be all about their lives because as they find their lives, I need to create mine.  I must do better for myself.

I've spent the better part of the last couple of years, trying to shed sadness and fear.  I was in a dark place dealing with some hard stuff and so much pain. I knew for certain that I was not loved in a way that made any kind of sense to me. I let my value and worth be determined by so many wrong things.  I struggled with truths I didn't want and not to make it sound simple or easy because it wasn't at all.  But I was letting how I felt be decided and toyed with because I didn't value or love or trust myself.  When I was able to climb out of that dark damp place, I came out with the promise to put myself on the list of people I take care of and figure out what it is I wanted and deserved in this life of mine.  I started doing self care and investing in my own well being. (we are so going to talk about all of that, more than a few times).  I also knew I needed to make my way financially but honor my handmade life and desire to write.  I don't want to live broke anymore, with my hand out to ask for small loans from someone who is supposed to provide for me.  I had to figure it out so that the days ahead won't be so worried and I will have freedom.  There, I said it, I'm tired of being broke, I'm tired of being controlled by money and I'm not having it ANY MORE. I am capable and creative and it's time to be in charge. It's easier in my world to not do that but honestly, that isn't working.  I must do better for myself.

So I titled this blogpost 27 gifts and this is why.  27 days to the big 60 and I think it's a gift, this time in my life, it looks like nobody else's 60 and that's perfectly okay because I am not like anybody else, none of us do.... (shocker). I wanted to make a statement to the world, the people I love and mostly to myself that it is my time.  I've talked to them about it all and they aren't quite getting it.  So I'll say it here and now.  I'm taking care of me.  I'm surrounding myself with the best kind of people and experiences and I'm going to do what is good for the life I deserve.   27 gifts, one for each day until that magical birthday, when I will celebrate for myself with freedom from what doesn't serve me well.   Today..the gift was to write and speak up.   To let the light into this over thinking soul of mine and return to this blog,  a place for truth telling whatever that might be.  I deserve a life lived out loud, I deserve peace, I deserve happiness, I deserve all the good things that I want to give. I deserve Love and Belonging.. Here and Now.

Today this is my gift to me. SHOW UP,  create and write without hesitation, fear or second guessing,  .   Here and Now. A little stronger, a little happier, less quiet and pretty giddy.....

Love Wildly

Barbara

What it looks like from here

My birthday is next week.  It's the last one that starts with a  5.....I didn't know what 59 would be all about, but I'm pretty sure I didn't think it was like this... I sort of thought I'd have IT ALL FIGURED OUT...I don't.  At all.  But honestly what would be the fun in all that?

I've made no secret of my personal struggles with life circumstances and where I am with that. I went through a very difficult few years that felt like I was laying on the damp floor of a dark hole and I could not see the way out. I could surface for moments, to be there for my kids and to do my work but truly, I was faking it.  I'm a sensitive girl in a world that I don't understand and I processed my truth as being broken....And broken became where I lived for what felt like too long.  I don't know what I was waiting for, probably some kind of answer, truth, pain relieving change...I didn't know at all. I had some friends who saw the truth of my despair and simply stayed with me. They didn't try to fix or push me, they just stayed, sitting there with me on the ground until I was ready to sit up and there we stayed for a while longer, just sitting in the dark.  And I am grateful for their love, even when I couldn't say so.  I sort of intuitively knew this darkness , the brokenness and the despair, it had an important purpose but goodness I wanted to rush on through and be done with it.  Because pain sucks and pain for along time starts to feel normal. and I didn't want that to be my life. I didn't know how I was going to do it but, I decided to unbreak myself....I decided to invite the pain to sit down and have some real conversations with me.  And it did...So I sat at the table with my pain and what I thought were my shattered pieces because I thought it would be good to put them back together not realizing they didn't fit anymore...I spent a whole lot of time with the pain, trying to learn everything I could in the dark and figure out how to stand up and leave the table.  But not before pain and I had to hash out a whole lot of messy stuff.

Then two things happened..

.1 Pain was there to say to me in no uncertain term, that until I loved me enough to trust myself, listen to myself and BE MYSELF fully and completely, I would allow myself to put my own best interests last and take care of the rest of the world.  It isn't the job of the rest of the world to look out for me.  That was my job. To love and honor myself....in order to love and honor what mattered to me.  Pain told me that my sensitive, intuitive self was just the way I am wired, not wrong, not broken not in need of fixing. That was my greatest gift even though it had never felt that way.  My knowing and feeling and truth telling...it didn't need to be hidden and for sure shouldn't ever be given away.  This world that is hard for me, needs what I bring because I am loved...I am love. I listened to pain and it gave me the greatest bit of knowledge I've ever gotten...Pain did not lie, pain was a teacher. Pain stayed until I got it right....

2.  I started moving my body.  That simple. I started the day after Christmas, thinking it was going to be a simple bit of walking the treadmill a few times a week and my excess pounds would fall off, I would be cuter and thinner and everything would just happen like that. It didn't The first night I fell off the treadmill in an amazing and frightening display of no body awareness at all.   I still have the scar where I deeply skinned my knee.  My sons picked me up and took me  under their very strong arms and told me that they would work with me.  And I started lifting weights.  They went with me to the gym, we are doing this together. They gently guided me   out of my comfort zone so far, I couldn't even see where my comfort zone was. they taught me and let me take on the gaining of strength. My older children became sounding boards for fitness and cheered every single thing I gained rather than asked how much I was losing. I stopped weighing myself and trusted the life long process that is taking care of me, this impatient girl has discovered  patience and how good the hard work feels without expecting anything else. Trusting good changes would come but first I had to surrender to the process and have come to love it..   I cannot say this enough. If you want to change your life, move your body.  This is what I know for certain about that...Mind, Body and Spirit are connected and you CANNOT fix one with out the rest coming along for the ride. . 

The other day a friend said I looked like I was in the middle of becoming who I was meant to be. Maybe because I pierced my nose or maybe because I  committed to doing a hard physical event or maybe because I am excited about  recommitting to the success of my little company. Maybe these are outer signs of what's been inside all along. Maybe it just feels good to to take off the fear of what anyone else will think or say.   I told her that I was just uncovering who I always was. Revealing and becoming.  Because I get a voice in all this, how my story goes and how it all feels to be me.  Because I have sat at the table with pain and lay on the damp ground with despair, I know what they offer.  A chance to be unbroken.  To decide that I am more than what hurts, so much more and the hurt has no power when I love and honor myself so hard that the rest just fades out of focus.  Love is the thing. it's everything.   LOVE changed me, it saved me and gave me myself in a way I have never had.  I am unbroken, I am strong. . I can love what is real and good more than ever and I can walk away without anger from what doesn't serve that love.  This is my story. And that is where fearlessness, strength and peace live....where pain used to hang out. At my table of love...about damned time.......


"Well I have no fear
I have only love"
~Stevie Nicks, Gypsy



BRING IT ON 59.....We are going to be just fine....

<3 Barbara

Do What You Love......

It's spring and time to lighten up a little/completely.  I've thought and over thought my inside story but there is so much more to me than all of that.  When asked what I do, I say "I make things..."   because that is the truth of it.  I love to make. I love the term MAKER.....It sounds so much fancier than "I make things".  Goodness it sounds like a real job and to me that is what the making is all about.... to be able to create the business and life I desire, with my own hands.  Made by me....

I have been a little bit in hibernation this winter.  I felt badly about it  but, sometimes it's just what you have to do to reset...... I may have wallowed and wondered for a short bit but what else I did was  read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert and it was the perfect antidote to my hinbernationess.   It also prompted me to figure and put into writing, the core values of my maker's world and my Wildflower 57 business and this is what I came up with..mostly, I don't ever want anything else....and these are my driving core beliefs that I will use to guide me going forward.....

1.  Figure out what you and your business are about.  Be Clear about that.   And then you can do whatever you want with it, change your designs , change the things you make, change your approach and marketing. Any of it. But Know what you are about.....My business is based on the love of faded, colorful, softly made things that remind me of Prairies, Farms,Mountains, Open Spaces, sweet florals, torn whites, bits, pieces  and the freedom to be who I am...Tattered and Tangled..Unfettered....Everything comes from those things....

2.  Stay in your lane......Don't worry about what ANYONE else is doing....there will be many people who make stuff that is similar to yours, or something you had ready to try.   As long as you know what you are about, you know you aren't copying.  NOW...don't take this to mean you can copy a name, steal a picture, encroach on trademarked designs....what that means to me is to not always worry about trying to beat out or out do anyone else who may be close to your style or vision (believe me, this happens and it's not always intentional, sometimes it is ..and that is a different story when trademarks and copyrights are exploited )..  But if you keep your eyes forward, stay in your lane and focus on your intentions and keep rule #1 in your heart....You will be okay.  

3. Support each other.  Don't get caught up in the stuff that will undo you.  This comes from ..big sigh here.... experience.   I've been a participant/ guilty of reacting to what feels like someone trying to steal my ideas and projects. I've been accused of stealing other people's ideas and projects. I've been reactive and possesive . I've been used and hurt.    I know I haven't ever intentionally stepped on someone's toes and the ones I thought stepped on mine....they probably all felt the same.... but truly when you go down that road with another business person, you undo friendships, support systems and destroy good things. Why entertain this and give it any of your energy or try to have the discussion which is never ever going to end well.  Truly, with Pinterest and all the millions of ideas and tutorials out there, we are all bound to step into the circle drawn by someone and they will step into our circle.  And usually...it's just that we are doing what we do, following our creative energies where they will take us.... Instead of creating resentment and horrible negativity by thinking and saying that we are the only ones, maybe we just lift each other up. I've been on both sides of this, it feels horrible and embarrassing.  Let's lift each other up and cheer a little bit for everyone, I hope we all make it...  Back to #1 and #2 

4.  Love and Persistence..... This is it..  Design...Make...Repeat.....  and remember why you chose this maker's life. Because you have the heart and soul that doesn't understand any other way to be in the world. Because it's all that you want.  Because it's who you are.   And mostly... because you love it.  The love will see you through the hard work, and make no mistake it's hard work. One dropcloth apron is fun, dropcloth apron #357....not as much...Someday you may get help in the manufacturing of your work which will free you up to create more ideas and designs but it's all going to be work and from my perspective, the best work ever.  But please make sure you are all in....because it will test you but  give you back more than you can dream of......

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/

Lastly....where ever you may be in your creative business world....MAKE A PLAN.  Know where you want to go, have a road to get there, write down the steps you need to take and pursue the goals every single day with all your heart. .  Twists and Turns...take which ever of those  feels right to you. TRUST your vision, TRUST the makers energy and the pull of what calls your name...TRUST yourself....And don't be afraid to leap when leaping is called for.   There will be dry times, there will be busy times when you are exhausted and wonder what you were thinking and there will be times for hibernating and refreshing your tired soul.  But always always always DO WHAT YOU LOVE.......

Long may you make and thrive... 

<B

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The View from the Edge

The summer of 1973, I was 15 on the verge of 16 full of all kinds of teenage drama and angst. I had my first serious boyfriend and he was older, heading to college.  My parents brought him along on our annual summer backpack trip in an effort to keep me interested because truly the only thing I was interested in was him. And being kissed.  

Our trip that summer involved a 10 day camping and backpacking trip in and around Yosemite.  And the highlight was to be a night spent on the top of Half Dome.  I wasn't super excited because I was 15, almost 16 and I wanted to be anywhere but with my parents, family friends and a younger brother.  But because I was 15, I had no choice.  I honestly do not remember too much of that trip except like our other backpacking trips it was hard stuff. Because to get to the really great places you have to travel hard trails, walk loads of miles and it isn't always fun. (Can you see where I'm going with this story?).   So after 8 days of lots of hard stuff  with me rolling my eyes and kissing my boyfriend through some of the most beautiful back country anywhere, we hit the switchbacks that lead to the bottom of Half Dome.  8 days of hauling what I needed and some of what other people needed on my back, my 100 pound body carrying 35 pounds of stuff and I wasn't impressed at all with the steep and never ending switchbacks ahead of us in the afternoon sun.....at all. I was pretty pissed off at the ridiculousness of those switchbacks and in my defense, those things go on FOREVER.... At the top of the switchbacks we saw before us THE CABLES......

Awesome, more hard stuff although this held my interest because I loved to climb trees and things, I loved being up high in the sky and possibly more important, my mother is deathly afraid of heights and I wasn't.  I knew I could haul myself and all that stuff up the side of that rock and I did. My mom did in spite of her fears ( I never gave her the credit she deserved for all that, she was facing hard fears) and my brother did it by hanging onto the pack of our other male friend because he was too short to use the cables.  We all did it. And that alone should be an amazing story. But this is about what's at the top, the reason for the planning and hard work... At the top, you take off your pack of stuff and see how HUGE the top is. It's football field and more big....and then there is this...The view you cannot see from anywhere else in the world.   The view that feels like it's the whole world...

I mean really......even my 15 year old snotty high school girl self knew that this was a life changer. I let myself feel what it was like to have done something spectacular. I didn't think about my mom and one upping her, I didn't think about how much I hated these "family trips", I didn't think about my boyfriend and his kisses even though he was standing next to me. I for once let myself feel all my tangled and not cool self and I took in this crazy amazing moment...but then what I did next was where I found myself the most....

There is an outcropping on the top of Half Dome, a place where sheets of granite hang out over the edge of the face.  A place where there is so little under your feet and then nothing at all. Where the best views, the best air and the best of everything are found. On the edge of everything. A place where my breath was taken away, where I walked out and sat by myself and was totally okay with being 15 and awkward and unsure. Where I was suspended over everything and everything was mine. I could have stayed there forever letting the breeze cool my face. It felt like forever, it felt like everything..

Of course my mom with her deathly fear of heights about lost her mind with her only daughter sitting on the edge of nothing, hanging over the valley a bit precariously. So I came back to the safety of the football field size smooth rock top.  We unrolled sleeping bags and had a meager dinner of uncooked foods and a sip of brandy in our Sierra Cups which at that altitude and me being 15 went straight to my head. And slightly tipsy, I watched the full moon rise and light up the whole world. I made wishes on a million shooting stars and I looked down on all the campfires in the Valley below. All in a night spent on the top of Half Dome.   

I did sneak back to the outcropping a few more times before we climbed down the next morning. I hated to leave, wondered if ever I would experience anything so amazing as the edge of that rock...I wondered if I would ever feel that whole again. I wondered if ever I would feel like I fit in like that anywhere else. I wondered ifmaybe that was where I was leaving myself, on the outcropping looking down or instead I had found myself. Maybe both.

I returned to school to be a cheerleader, my boyfriend went away to college and dumped me and I resumed my slightly awkward but fun journey through school. But I knew that I was changed through the hard stuff, the switchbacks, the carrying of things, by the view from the top. For a moment, I wasn't just a girl at my school doing what looked like normal stuff, for  I had stood on the edge of the world and it was mine.  I held that knowledge and power in my heart for a while and then I put it away, not sure what to do with it.  .   

That summer, that trip came back to me in a dream the other day. I felt compelled to sort it out and figure out why after 42 years, I woke up in tears feeling once again changed but not quite sure why. It occurred to me that I've been doing the switchbacks for a good 5-6 years, personal switchbacks but switchbacks non-the-less.  The hard stuff, carrying what I need and what other people need on my back.  And I'm here at the base of the mountain with cables before me and I am good for the climb.  Because I need to stand on the edge and see what the world looks like again. Because I need to be suspended over nothing, over the world, see that view that you only see from the top, have my breath taken away and feel the power in my soul of all that. Remember that I am whole, that sometimes just leaning into the stuff that scares you most is when it gets super amazing and oh so real. Trust that the ground underneath will hold me. Go to  where I will feel the breeze cool my face and travel to where I am just me, a girl on the edge of everything.....

"I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center."

Kurt Vonnegut

Be Mighty

Barbara

p.s. these are not my photos. I found them by doing online searches of Half Dome and the Cables.  

What About All Those Moments?????

 Yesterday.....sitting in the waiting room for traffic court with my teenager (he likes to go fast), there were other parents and teenagers waiting with us.  For a couple of hours or more.  And the room was really really quiet....because EVERYONE and I mean EVERYONE was head down looking at their phones.  Aside from a  couple of unruly girls who were making fun of their mom, all you could see was the top of everyone's head.  Except me, because my phone is about to be retired and runs out of battery fast.  So there I was in room full of people, my son included who were on their phones and I had nothing to occupy my mind.  Or so I thought.. (a little panic happened here)

I didn't know what to do with myself because I hadn't brought any other entertainment for myself such as my knitting or a book because...I had my phone.  As my battery died and I was left without being able to peruse Facebook or Instagram I found myself a teeny bit frantic which is ridiculous. I got itchy and anxious at the lack of anything to keep my attention.  So I did a bit of thinking about the situation  (I've actually been thinking about this a whole lot lately) and it occurs to me that perhaps with all the marvelous technology and social media that is constantly available and in our hands... we have lost the ability to have Moments.  You know, the  moments between activities, moments of silence and calm, moments to reflect or gather ourselves.....Moments to talk, carry on a conversation that is more than one sentence before we put our heads back into our phones.  Moments of Life.  We do not know what to do with them without some form of stimulation.  

So I decided to be there with my son.  Which meant he would have to put his phone down and be there with me.  Seriously, have you ever tried to get a teenager to invest in some awesome parent bonding...it's not easy.  So I went with guilt... "you are leaving in a week and I am going to miss you like crazy".  Okay it wasn't intended as guilt, however I am sure that was how he heard it and it was a start.  It wasn't easy at first because I was clearly annoying him with my attempts to engage him in conversation right there in front of a room full of people we didn't know, but, I didn't have anything else to do so I persisted and soon he stopped taking pictures of himself while endlessly snapchatting  and he looked at me.... in the eyes!!!!! and then he responded!!!!  Soon ... we were talking, actual conversation together!  SHUT UP!  We talked for over an hour before his name was called.   And we talked sitting in the hallway outside the courtroom.  And we talked on the way home in the car.   Or actually, he talked and I worked hard at listening without judging or criticizing because I seriously wanted him to keep talking.  This would not have happened if we had both stayed in our phones, sitting next to each other but not with each other.  The four hours we spent down at the Superior Court became some of the best moments of this week.  Because we stopped using something else to fill our moments and started letting the moments with each other be real. 

I'm the first to admit that I  pick my phone up too many times a day, justifying it by saying "I need to check on an order"...but then 45 minutes later I'm still looking around just to see what everyone else is doing. And sometimes I'm annoyed that I have to get off Facebook or stop watching animal videos so that I can do things like make dinner or fold laundry. And I lose more time than I should, all because being absorbed in everything and everyone else's postings is easy, like fast food for my brain.  I lose the real good stuff by living while I look down in my hands at what other's are posting and saying instead of looking at the work I can do with my own two hands.  I'm as guilty of wasting moments as any teenager.  Documenting things that could just be left to living and experiencing, more concerned with taking a picture to post than being there.....I get the irony.  I want moments but I'm not good at making the most of them.  As if  my mind wants to be entertained at all times and without the constant input of social media and texting, it feels lost and restless. 

Restless moments are a good thing, that is where ideas are born, that is where conversations happen, that is where truth lives.  In the space between the scheduled events of our lives.  I see it in my sons, their phones are where their eyes and brains go every chance they get as they crave the constant bombardment of information and nonsense that stop them from remembering how to just be human and alive.  I've challenged my younger child to hours without our phones and we are looking for hobbies to entertain his mind, push his creativity and imagination....but....more than that, I want him to train himself to have moments for himself to recharge, refresh and think.  Oh what a mind can do with a moment or two not spent soaking up what's thrown at it from a phone in the hand...

 This summer has presented itself as an opportunity in so very many ways.  There have been events and changes the last few months that have rocked my soul and my heart .... some have been a bit tangled and hard, while others have been happy and full of grace.My life is taking some turns that are exciting and terrifying as lives tend to do.  It seems like the perfect time to pay attention, put down my phone, turn off the computer and keep my mind and heart busy with what matters most. Shoot anytime is actually a good time to do just that. Time to retrain my mind and the minds of the young men I love so much so that we don't feel the pull of need for constant influx of things to fill our bits of free time. Time to gather moments and weave them together so that they will keep me warm ; so that I will know that I lived the heck out of this life, these days and these moments. Remember to connect rather than disconnect.  Create, read, swim, rest, eat, travel, sing, dance, laugh, talk, be with people in real life  and breathe.... To spend some moments every day before I forget how......

<3 

Barbara

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This is my story

“Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.” 
― Brené Brown

When I started this blog, I had a choice....I could write about the surface stuff like how my business is doing or the shiny version, the one with the pulled together outfits, clean house, I'm so awesome in everything I do kind of stories. You know the version that makes other people think I'm something I'm not.  I decided that if I was going to do this blog thing, I needed to do it on my terms, with my story being woven through the shiny stuff.  I could have just told you all funny mom stories or talked about what is easy to talk about but I'm not that kind of girl. I have an intense need to be authentic and tangled because I'm sort of over doing what I should, saying what others are comfortable with and trying to be something I'm not. I'm a girl with a story and it's not always pretty, but it is real and it is me.

Trying to figure out where to draw the line about what to share and what not to let out of my heart, I'm not sure can do that. So I speak and write my truth. My story. We all have them and we should tell about them, at least that is what I believe.  It's not easy to unmask ourselves and show the grit along with the good stuff. I think they go hand in hand and I think that nobody has it 100 percent together. I don't think we need to. And in the telling and listening of stories, I truly believe we should respect and honor the authentic, raw stuff that we are handed by others. I just do.

Recently, a blog post was  read to  someone who doesn't respect or care for who I am and has no respect for what I have to say. And then my words were twisted and thrown back at me like a weapon. I got scared and defensive and found the unbrave girl in me scrambling for cover and wishing I hadn't said anything that was real and offensive to the word thrower. And I took the cowards way out, I deleted a few blog posts.  And as I write that last sentence, my heart actually feels like it's breaking because I let myself down. I betrayed my promise to myself to live with my truth and vulnerability shamelessly. Because I got scared. After the brave acts of sharing my truth here in a public way, I stopped trusting myself because one person shamed me about speaking my mind.  Dude...this so isn't the way I mean to be.....

So first of all I'm sorry I wimped out and deleted my posts. I regret it because I can't get them back and I was proud of those posts. They were the most difficult and raw things I have ever written and I thought they were beautiful. Words flowed in a way they don't often flow... that part of the story telling was  magical and hard.

Second of all, I won't get scared again. 

Third of all....I do have a pretty life, there are wonderful, amazing things going on, woven into my story which happens at this moment to include some things that aren't so pretty. But that is where clarity and joy are found. Underneath the worry that people don't want to hear your story down where the truth is. Under the shame and fear are beautiful things. I won't keep them hidden.  This isn't about the person who turned my story on me, this is about me staying brave and true. This is about the fact that I get to tell it the way I see it. Tangled truth..this is my life, this is my story.

By the way I heart Brene Brown.... http://brenebrown.com/my-blog/

Love wins
Barbara

Love and Strength

WARNING...I'm going to talk about some body parts....

Back in August I saw a horrible picture of myself that made me cringe.....okay I'm totally lying, it made me cry. And cry hard for a couple of hours and again when I looked at it the next day. In addition to a haircut gone wrong (blame that on a Pinterest picture of a skinny model with an insanely cute haircut), I was unable to slip on my son's football jersey for the annual Parent Night. Because I was too curvy which is my soul saving way of saying, I am overweight.  I had spent a great deal of time convincing myself that it was okay and I was accepting of all the curviness and it didn't change who I was.  I'm here to say, it does change who I am. I don't shop for clothes (the dreaded dressing room mirror situation) I don't like to go out because I can't seem to find anything I love to wear to dress up in. And I couldn't bend over to tie my shoes..There I said it..I couldn't tie my own damned shoes and that wasn't okay...I could tell you all the stories I told myself about how I was indeed healthy and it was a metabolism thing, a menopause thing, a having 2 babies after 40 thing. I could tell you stories about half hearted efforts and failed plans of mine but really who wants to talk about all of that.

But I do want to talk about making peace and making plans...With where I am starting from, with the process and yes. with my body...My fat body....I didn't know how to do that except the way I am tackling all hard things these days...with honesty. So.....another warning...I'm going to talk about body parts a little bit, I'll be gentle but here goes.

I got naked...and I looked in the mirror...at all of that curviness.  And I cried, a lot...but I didn't leave the mirror or cover up. I cried until I couldn't cry any longer and then I made myself tell myself some loving things. Not easy to do when all I felt was shame and embarrassment and confusion. Like how did my body and I get here. So all I could come up with that was loving is..."you have great hair", "your eyes still sparkle" and "the best part about being this big is you have good boobs"....(I warned you, body parts).  And I'd love to say there was instant acceptance and the shame disappeared, but that isn't the truth. I didn't feel much better, in fact I felt a little worse having spent all that time with a body I couldn't love.  So I did it again the next day, and the next and the next...Every day after my shower I gave my body some love.  But I didn't leave it there because nothing changes unless you change something. You want something, you have to do something to get it. End of story.

I wanted to be strong. So I started doing squats, 5 the first day, 10 the next, 15 the next and so on. I added in jumping jacks, push ups and other floor exercises twice a day. Then I added in some weight stuff for my arms. All done in 15-20 minute sessions at home before I went out for the day and before bed at night. I moved more, stretched more and my body responded.

I changed my eating. I'll write a post about that sometime soon but I started with the Whole30 challenge on January 2 (http://whole30.com/)..  No grain, No Dairy, No sugar.  Just like that. I read some blogs, gathered information and jumped in.  I ate better. And my body responded.

And this is me now. 14 pounds lighter, sleeping better, more energy. I feel better but more importantly I feel stronger and I am working towards something I want. And isn't that really the deal. Don't complain, do something. Don't cry, do something. Be patient, stay the course, don't give up, believe in the change.

And now after my shower, I talk to my naked body with less shame and more admiration. I also give my body some love with a handful of warm oil that I rub on my damp skin every morning. I can feel the shrinking and tightening of my thighs, my butt, my hips, my arms and yes my boobs (they are always the first to go, am I right?) I can see my body responding to the way I am treating it, the way I am treating myself. We have a long way to go my body and I . Patience has never been a strong trait of mine but I'm making friends with patience. I know health is coming because I am doing what I need to in order to be healthy and oh how I love it. I love how it feels, I celebrate each new day because I can see and feel progress and results. And I'm learning that as I get a little stronger and more healthy in one  part of my life, I am stronger in other parts of my life.  I love how I feel even when I look at my curves, I am able to love them too and be gentle with them.  I am friends with my heart, I am friends with my soul and I am friends with my body. We will negotiate this adventure with strength and love, not shame . Just love and strength.....

<3 Barbara

Slip Away

My 4th child, my son Hank is making college decisions.

 This boy, the one who from the beginning hasn't been afraid of a thing, not the first day of kindergarten or tracking down runaway roosters. He rode a big horse, he walked farm roads with his dog Buddy and faced down bullies bigger than he was. He  doesn't back down and when he does wrong, he owns it and takes what comes for what he does. This  wild child of mine born with wirey hair that felt like it belonged on a grown man not a smooth faced baby and never wanted to be held too tight. The football player who plays bigger than his measured size and doesn't do a thing the way everyone else tells him but does it the way his heart leads.  He is stubborn, impossible, bossy and so confident you could think he was arrogant if the confidence wasn't so warranted. He tolerates no half truths and will charm the shirt off his brother's back if he thinks he will wear it better. He has style and fire and he is as frustrating as he is loyal. He loves loud music with words no mother should have to hear and he navigates situations with straightforward truth. He doesn't always do what he should but he always knows why he does what he does. I tell him not to drive fast and he gets a speeding ticket. Until he knows something is right for him, all the advice and parenting directions are of no use, he will find his way and do it with enthusiasm even when you think he is down and out, he is  rising. He is emotional and strong, he is messy and neat. He is a rule breaker, boundary tester, charmer, all in, whole hearted participant in life. He doesn't lie and he isn't fake. He is wonderful and difficult and he carries my heart in his hands.

http://www.sportswurlz.com/

He is talking to college coaches and dreaming dreams. I am filling out forms and applications. He is thinking about where he wants to go and who he will meet. He is thinking about girls and dorms and football, teammates and new adventures. I am awake at night wondering how I will breathe and calculating miles between here and where ever THERE might be. I am proud and I am scared and happy and sad. He is wondering how soon it will all get here, I am hoping it stays months away but knowing it will feel like minutes. I practice not crying when we talk about it, I practice my calm mom face when I am anything but calm. And I do everything I can to make sure this all happens for him. Because I love him enough to want him to go and find his way in the world even though it means I won't have his loud music in my house or his friends spread across his bedroom sleeping on a Saturday morning after a late night of loudness and video games. I want him to go even though setting 3 places at the table  instead of 4 seems impossibly hard.   Mostly, I want him to go because it is time, it is his time and he wants to go more than I need him to stay. And soon we will have an answer to the WHERE question and I will calculate the miles between here and there. Not that I will travel those miles too often because I know that this journey doesn't always have room for me. A phone call away just like his brother and sisters before him and like them I will cry more than a few times as he slips away with one last hug. We will adjust and grow but oh how much I will miss Hank.

In my own hands.....

I get overwhelmed with the weight of so many things. The business of holding a home together, the business of getting myself where I need to be and everyone else where they need to be, keeping track of it all, managing my home business and all the marketing and producing that I feel should be done versus the marketing and producing that I can truly get done. The reeling in of my big ideas, what to wear , should I cut my hair or let it grow, are my kids doing okay, eating healthy, getting fit, making dentist appointments, cleaning toilets...all of it sometimes feels like a freaking avalanche coming  hard. You know life, it happens fast and EVERY SINGLE DAY!  Throw in a ginormous amount of overthinking and working on some hard stuff and I'm a hot tangled mess.....chaotic, wild hearted and tangled. I am not organized, effortless or easy at all. A bit of a bouncy storm.

At night in bed when I can't sleep it gets a little rocky in my thoughts, so I head out to the back yard, stand under the stars and breathe deep...I take a breath or two or fifty so I can calm my crazy thoughts and anxiety down...and then I look at my hands, I mean really look at them and I remember that with these hands I can do anything.  With my hands I can  hug my children and grandchildren, my hands can carry what I need, my hands created this kitchen table business and my hands will carry it through. My hands know the touch of a loved one's face and the grasp of a friend reaching out. With these hands I can make and making is what I do. It is my world and my passion and these hands of mine are my tools. I talk with my hands, I touch materials and know they will work with my hands, I use my hands for knitting, sewing and every other thing I do. I use my hands to measure fabric at work . I love to throw my hands in the air when I dance, celebrate or exclaim. I clap my hands together in joy, I cup them around my mouth so my sons will hear my voice on the football field, I reach to the stars at night in the quiet dark solitude when I pray. 

And so it is with all of us. We have in our hands the possibility of everything. Helpless never, hopeless, certainly not. Not when we have our hands for making and for holding. For reaching out and touching, for grabbing what we seek and keeping it tight.  I am so grateful for my hands, my heart, my truth, my tangled messy mess, all of it. This life of mine, is in my own hands; yours is  too. So here is my new business card photo, I love it so much I want to hand them out to everyone I see because this picture is my heart and speaks to who I am.... I love it, and that's that... With these hands I will find my way.....

"The final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands"
Anne Frank


Throw your hands in the air......
Barbara

I hope I make you proud......

It's December 26 and I'm sitting here pretty darn proud of myself for surviving , I mean shining right through Christmas. I did ride the Joy boat all through the month of December instead of wallowing and thinking about the love and holiday spirit I wish surrounded me. I concentrated on the best of things and I said  "Merry Christmas" to EVERY person I could. And each time, my heart filled up just a little bit more. I made cookies, I decorated the tree, I made gifts and I sang Christmas songs. I launched myself into the holiday like it was my job and guess what. It was great, really. Because joy got me through... So now what?  Time to tackle the hard stuff...

I miss my dad these days, more than the usual every minute I miss him. I so wish he was here with me right now for guidance and his gentle wisdom. A girl needs her dad for these kind of things. Someone to say "you deserve better" or "nobody treats my girl this way"...but he's not here and probably he wouldn't exactly say it like that. Because my dad was the kind of guy who taught me that being a girl didn't excuse me from handling hard things. I had to change a tire before I was allowed to drive the car. I learned to use a hammer and hand saw, I could sail a boat, ride a big horse and make a fire all before I was 6. Sometime I forget that is who I am and that is what I need my dad for.  His last words were to tell me to remember that I am strong and not to let anything break me down. I'm guessing he has been shaking his head at me lately because I have been broken down, feeling helpless and weak. I don't think he would be proud of my whining, wallowing or crying...at all.... 

My dad taught high school wood shop and there was a sign in the classroom portion of his shop that said "Your mother isn't in this class, clean up your own mess".....That sign has popped into my head more than a little lately. So while I've been wishing my dad was here to help me fix my stuff the truth is he is here....and I know I need to clean up my own messes. I'm out of shape, I am not healthy, my  marriage is not healthy or viable, I've been broke and broken, I'm a little terrified of making tough changes.  I'm afraid of being strong because then it truly does feel like I am alone in this world and I don't want to be alone in this world. It's hard stuff  my friends on a deep heart level but then again it's simple stuff. What doesn't work must be fixed or let go of. If you want to be strong, be strong. If you want something different, do something different... Stop talking...DO THE WORK.... It's my mess and I will clean it up.  I know my dad will be proud of me, I'm a little proud of me too....at last...

Thank you Melissa Rice for passing this graphic on.... it was exactly perfect.   

<3 Barbara

p.s. I promise I will talk of better things soon, thanks for riding along with me these days. You are all my favorites. 

Saying Goodbye

   I feel like I need to step back a little and tell you about how my company started.   I've made stuff from other stuff for as long as I can remember. I am the daughter of very creative parents and the granddaughter of  two women who learned to  sew and knit when it was a necessity but kept their craft alive long  after they were able to afford to buy sweaters and dresses. The making of things is as much a part of me as my brown eyes.I only wanted two things as a young girl. To make things and to be a cowgirl. As I went through high school, college, marriage, babies, career, divorce, career burnout, marriage and more babies, the constant thing, my safe haven has been my love of making things.

Many years down the road, I had two small boys, a mustang horse and not much money; living on a farm outside a town called Pumpkin Center which consisted mostly of a feed store, small post office, gas station and thrift store. I wandered into the thrift store one afternoon and back in the corner stumbled on a stack of gorgeous sheets and they were cheap! I spent $10 for  five vintage sheets and rushed home to make aprons and bags that afternoon. And I took this picture and decided I had a business, making things from other tattered and faded things.  I was lucky enough to have a horse named Gypsy and my cowgirl life, so I named my company on a whim.  Shabby Cowgirl, just like that....

    Another fast forward, my boys were bigger and the farm was being sold and there was a move to a  new town, Gypsy had to go to a new home and I was a cowgirl without a horse, living in a neighborhood with sidewalks and fences.. I joined Facebook, opened a page and without a better name for my company and still clinging to my cowgirl life (saddle in the garage and spurs on the dresser mirror) , I opened my Shabby Cowgirl page and lucky for  me, good things happened, AMAZING things happened. However,  fast growth and an inexperienced business girl are sometimes hard to manage, the idea gets bigger than the ability to handle things and I got the high speed wobbles a few times, took more orders than one girl could produce timely and committed to everything because you feel like that is what you must do. I couldn't run as fast as I needed to and there were bumps in my road. I had super good days and days when I wanted to run away but always there was the making of things and wonderful people who loved my work. My page grew in a way I could never have imagined or hoped and Shabby Cowgirl was experiencing so many wonderful opportunities that I didn't want to say no to any of them..  I clung to the notion that I knew what I was doing even though I knew I needed to seriously regroup and gather myself up, take a breath and sort it out.

As happens in a sorting, I realized that I wanted to take back the intention of my work, the joy and the excitement of designing from my heart. I needed to get a grip and do this right or not at all.   I love the name Shabby Cowgirl but I had been encountering the issue of the domain name being bought and offered to me at a high price and the social media names  were taken by someone who offered to sell them to me at a price. I found out this is a common practice when there is a perception that a small business has enough of a following that people will pay to keep their name. I didn't want to pay to take back a name I was not sure was the right one for me.   But also, I don't do strictly western or shabby style and I was struggling with the notion that the company name didn't reflect the true design aesthetic of my brand. I felt inconsistent and then there was the fact that I don't have a horse right now and although I have the heart and soul of a cowgirl, I am not one at the moment.  Small detail but it nagged at me.

The word Wildflower popped up over and over in songs and quotes, it's always been a word that I connected with, I am not highly manicured, I'm a bit unruly, disorganized and tangled. I am at home in rocky and rugged places where blooming isn't always easy. At a crossroads with my work and my world, this was the time.  And in a quick moment, again on a perfect whim I knew it was Wildflower. I added 57 to the name. I have 5 children, 7 is my favorite number, I was born in 57 and this is my 57th year. So there you are, Wildflower 57 it is. I am happy with the change, I am happy with the direction of my work and I am happy with what I have learned the hard way. I love love love Shabby Cowgirl, she is after all, me. I am not leaving her, she is with me always in my wild heart. My design work comes from a deep love for farm, faded prairie, vintage, fresh,  gypsy, boho and  cowgirls, always cowgirls...I expect that Wildflower 57 will reflect all that and the love of making things from other things. As I close the door on Shabby Cowgirl with gratitude and love, I will  let myself fully fall into the field of tangled, sundrenched wildflowers that will carry this dream on down the road. 

http://www.pinterest.com/pin/383228249512412587/

Shine and grow.....<3 Barbara

Pinatas and other stuff

I've told you I have a couple of teenage boys in my house and they sometimes bring me right back down to earth with their comments. The other day I posted something on Instagram about getting to work with the music loud and how much I love my work (I seriously do) and my almost 17 year old said "I feel like you try to make your life look way more awesome than it is...I mean, look at our house."   So in the interest of full disclosure here is the truth.

I don't have a gorgeous, organized work space. I have piles everywhere in most of our living spaces and my sewing machine is on the floor in the corner so I can put it on the table after breakfast is done. I share the kitchen table with well everything else... I do play really good music loud. have office snacks on the counter and lose myself in the creating  and for those hours that I am working, it's my amazing gorgeous work space where fun things happen  That being said..... this is the true scene at my table this morning. Sewing machine, football helmet and my youngest having breakfast he got for himself because I'm in the middle of organizing a pile of papers.  Please note the stack of fabric in the upper right of the picture about to fall on the floor and demanding to be folded.... The struggle is real my friends, I'm a hot mess, always have been, always will be, I'm messy and happy. And this kid at my table doesn't mind.

Also this week I got a haircut. This is a significant event because I hover between let it grow and all the adorable haircuts in my Good Hair Day Pinterest board.   It's hot here, my weirdly wavy hair was getting all flat which is not as cute as weird waves , so I got the cut...3 inches off and it looked amazing leaving the salon, soft curls swishing in the breeze. I was feeling like I looked like the Pinterest example until the breeze turned into a decent hot wind while I was trying to take a picture, my hair got all whipped up and this is the picture I got.

. The good news is, it washed up perfectly and the weird random waves have returned (I've convinced myself it's "beachy")  and I don't even have to dry it or do fancy things every morning. That is a good thing because we have probably already established that I'm a bit of a tangled and messy girl...hence the long random pieces that I specifically asked for...

So the last piece of what is on my mind.... I am feeling a bit like this...

photo from http://thepinataproject.com

A pinata....I feel like a pinata, like the hits keep coming from all directions. Nothing major, just stuff. Life; car breakdowns; power outages on a hot day; witnessed a horrible accident; very early morning football practices; lost paperwork;  mean comments from people I love; comments that feel like judgement from people I like and stuff that probably has more to do with all of them feeling a bit pinata-ish than anything else.    Somehow I get the feeling you all know what I'm talking about. Pinata-ish.... I don't have any big earthshaking words of wisdom for myself and all the other pinata people. For me I get a little quiet on social media, put my phone in another room and let what I love wash over me.  And I try to is gather all the grace and kindness I can and just search for happiness among all that candy that falls to the ground when I break into pieces.   

Do Something

I get stuck .... I am thinking we all get stuck and tangled up sometimes, it's hard to know how it happens or why, but, you know when you are there.  I shared that I am taking this summer slow and all the reasons why; family needs, mess cleaning and time to be. All valid and true, however, if I am being totally honest with myself, I got a little stuck. I lost my mojo and creative drive and I didn't know what I wanted to do next.  

My stuckness started as I did a local vintage show. It's a fun show, I love that it's in my hometown, the girls who put it on are insanely awesome, the vendors are fun and its overall a great show to do.  I was super excited with all kinds of fresh goods and displays and my space looked just how I wanted it to. The show opened and customers came in and I stood there in my cute tank and apron with a smile on my face and fluttering excitement. People filled the show spaces.... and they walked by my space without stopping or slowing down. It was early and patience is always important as is letting go of expectations. Trying to just have fun with the day, I said hi to everyone who wandered by my space and engaged anyone I  could in little bit of "how are you" banter. I was having fun and  I was in perfect spot for great traffic.  But still, not many took even a second look, I mean COME ON PEOPLE, I have really great things here!!!   There were some who wandered through my little "shop" and took a better look but mostly, people walked on by.  Now to be totally fair, I had some sales and wonderful friends stopped by as well as some who I knew from Facebook and Instagram. And it was a really really hot day.  But..... for whatever reason people didn't stop and shop with me. I saw other booths carrying out sold items s and selling their goods but not so much for my stuff.  As the day went on, my smile stayed intact but admittedly, my heart was sinking just a bit.  Sunday came around and I made a huge effort to just enjoy the day and all it brought and not worry about the sales, however.....I'm a handmade business and it is about the sales as well as the experience.  I didn't fare much better on Sunday which was even hotter than Saturday.  So, let me state clearly, I LOVE this show and it was a fun time,  but I felt like a failure.  I brought fresh new goods and they were displayed well and I  was sure they would sell and they didn't.   Bottom line...they didn't.

Now, on the plus side, I am going back, I looked at the setups and tents and made some exciting changes to how I will situated in the fall...so that isn't the deal.  What to do with what felt like failure and lack of interest was what weighed on me hard, that is the deal.  And the internal battle began, fueled by the criticism of people who also judged my success on how many dollars were made versus my expenses.  I questioned everything, including my own ego and abilities.  Did I just assume my stuff was cute because I made it or am I fooling myself?  And how could it just not appeal to ANYONE?  Add in a slightly funky unrelated misunderstanding  and I was stuck, as in quicksand the "I can't get out" kind of stuck.  Quicksand of self doubt and letting other people's (who don't understand why I do this anyway) voices into my head.  Not how I usually am in life but then I was stuck and when you are stuck, you don't even really know what to do or if you want to do anything at all... because you are well....stuck.

So without any clear answers and a whole list of negative thoughts in my head and heart, I got more stuck, up to my neck in muck stuck.  I shipped off the extra goods to a friend's shop and put my sewing machine away and declared this a summer of time off.  And now I can shaemlessly admit/tell you that a great deal of my summer off was running away from the doubt that was chasing me. I needed a break.   For a month I didn't sew....not a thing and I didn't even think about it.  The thing that has always been my joy and refuge became my nemesis.  I took the cowards way out .   Yes, I was a chicken and was walking away, no pulling up of big girl panties or getting back on the horse, I just turned away from what I love because I was afraid of failing even more. You could say I wallowed a bit, in the muck and doubt. Hiding and wallowing, never attractive and never will those things get you where you want to be.   

Somewhere in the depths .... as always happens with me, after a month of hiding I began to hear the voice  that says  "Don't be a jerk, get up, DO SOMETHING" , the voice that won't be quiet was speaking again ...I ignored it a bit longer, like a couple of weeks longer. But it's a persistent kind of voice, and will not be silenced. I ignored it because I wasn't quite ready to face the possibility that everyone was right and I'm not succeeding and never will, chicken to even find out, chicken to admit I still cared.  Afraid of possibility that nobody would like what I was doing even if I did my best, it might not be good enough. Afraid of the voices telling me to quit and afraid they were right. Afraid to have people walk by again without looking at  my stuff. Afraid to put myself out there.

 HOWEVER, I am not that girl, the one who listens to the negative voices or gives in to fear. Because this is my story, I didn't want it to be a story of "I tried and just quit".   I'm the girl who bends rules and does things her own way. I am a girl who does things the way I do because I believe in myself.  I'm the girl who falls down 7 times and stands up 8.  I'm the girl who can't sleep with a brain full of ideas and visions. I'm the girl who is always positive , who trusts my gut and instincts and follows them to the end of everything.  I'm the girl who started with a stack of old sheets and a basket of yarn and created a business and I'm the girl in charge of all this, not a quitter.  I am a tangled wildflower kind of girl whogrows where she shouldn't and shows up over and over again because I believe in the truth of my passions. Tell me I can't and I will do it just to prove that I can... It just took me a bit to remember that and pull myself out of the muck which it turns out wasn't so neck deep after all...I was just standing in a shallow puddle and all I had to do was take a step, a teeny step but one taken with conviction and intention.  I just needed to want to try and the moment I took that step back into my world, I was free again.  Unfettered, unraveled and unstuck.

Do Something... probably the best advice/reminder ever given ( a big shout out to my friend   https://www.facebook.com/Junknista for the butt kicking) , so good I wrote it on my wrist where I would see it as I sewed and worked. Turn up the music, dust off the work table and get back to it.  Just start with anything,  just start.  I was able to post some new things yesterday and to my delight, there wasn't the sound of crickets in response, to my great delight, everything I made found a home.  It feels super good to be unstuck, to make a plan and again have a purpose.  To remember who I am and what makes my heart beat a little faster.  Indeed I still need days off and it's still summer so the pace will be slow to spend time with my boys, but, all the failure and all the negative voices are not welcome here and have enthusiastically replaced by the mantra of Do Something.  Because that something will inevitably lead you to something else and before you know it you are back home where you belong.   Doing what you love in peace and truth, no more chicken  run away from a little challenge kind of behavior...... I'm back at work, watch out world.......