Oh fabulous, fabulous Friday. Today I woke up feeling so much better than yesterday. I had successfully confronted a small part of my journey and awoke with anticipation at my lunch with friends and my previously-scheduled facial.


But there was much more to this momentous day in my personal history. This morning, before I left for lunch, I was sitting at my computer with my coffee when all of a sudden and email pops up from the editor of Antler Magazine(which is a totally wonderful publication in the style of fashion magazine, but featuring artists of every sort). I had sent her a little "look at my blogs" email quite a few months ago, but today I got a positive response back AND, ANNNNDDDD a request to write a few articles!!!!!



I could hardly contain myself. I hadn't been that high on adrenaline since, well...ever really. As I replied to the editor, I realized that this may actually be happening for me. Writing for a living, or writing professionally, or writing at all and being able to put it out there is in every regard a dream come true. Even if I totally botch up the article* and nothing comes from it, I will never forget this day and will always consider it a success!

It feels UNREAL!

So I feel totally pampered in a very real way today. It feels like if this writing thing could be real, then my being laid off in February and the fight for this new lifestyle of staying at home and pursuing my soul's interests will have all made more sense to me. To have the luxury to attend to your soul AND meet success there, shoot...that is the ULTIMATE self-care in my book.

How's your pampering going? Remember, this challenge extends through the weekend until Monday, so keep it up!

~crm

*She mentioned doing an article on the top 5 older (i think she means 'classics') books that readers need to read. I think I'll be okay...:)

Oh wicked Thursday. I had planned an entire day for myself complete with leisurely morning, fabulous lunch date, movie, evening alone. I still did all of these things, but dears, today I did them with the heavy burden of my life-long friend, Insecurity.

She woke up with me and said some unkind words. These words they hurt my feelings.

Perfect. Now my own feelings are hurting my feelings.

The saint had his weekly brewther's night at his parents, so I have from 8am until 10pm alone. I decided to execute the plan even though I felt like crawling into a bottle of french red wine for the next 12 hours. What else could woo my woundedness out of my being like a luxurious day out? Also, it was freaking gorgeous here today and my new dress needed walking.

But I couldn't ditch her. Every time I turned a beautiful downtown corner, she was there. Every time I ran ahead and thought I had lost her, there she was. Every time I took a sip of champagne, she stared at me blankly from across the table.


By all definition, I had a fabulous day. Correction: I DID a fabulous day. I donned my strapless dress (don't tell joel, he hates them) and tennis shoes, plugged in my Depeche Mode, and sauntered out to a new-to-me French bistro downtown. I sat outside after braving the "table for one?" question THREE times (the hostess/water girl/server) during the lunch rush, and enjoyed every second of it. Champagne? Yes. Baguette? But of course. Artichoke lentil soup? Naturally. Profiteroles? I suppose I must. Espresso? Well, shoot.

I then wandered around the market with my film SLR and shot away...and in that small vacuum of time, I forgot that it had a nasty little bite in my heart that kept scratching.

I wandered up Pike to see a chic-flick. I was the ONLY one in the theatre. Typically I would find this funny and a bit ironic, but not today. I needed not to be alone there...apparently the gods heard and sent in two girls to sit behind me and watch my back against theater rapists. Because they totally exist. I got my girl-fix of tears and headed home in the breezy late-afternoon.

Two chili-cheese corn dogs later (sigh), I am sitting here with a long night ahead of me and wondering how much money I will have to spend to pamper myself out of this insecurity and actually FEEL pampered today.

And that's the thing. I should seriously know better than to avoid my soul like that. After I scrubbed the kitchen without even knowing it, I realize that I was thinking about a very long time ago in grade school when I was ditched by everyone (don't feel pity for me, I did it right back), and then even further back to a big man getting in his car and driving down the street. And these are the scenes that replay when I turn to face my insecurity. They hurt a bit too much. This is why I usually ignore it, deny it a voice, abuse it, etc.

What's the alternative? I could continue doing this and live with the guilt of my reaction to it, which is to say, think, or do something wicked to someone else whenever I feel insecure...so as to restore the balance. I'm not great at that first strike, but I can strike back with cobra-like vehemence. However, I am really, really tired of making a smeary, toxic muck of people I love and convincing myself that it was their own misunderstanding.

I would like to be that femme fatal who turns around, runs towards her predator with double-fisted guns blazing, and looks really hot in a muddy tank top and shorts in the process.

Unfortunately, I am the chubby little 2-year old with tear-stained red cheeks who is left behind and who never wants to feel that way again. But it is becoming apparent from the scratches left behind by my soul that I must turn around and find courage to face it. Though I cannot take big girl steps and look fabulous doing it, I can take steps the size of a child.

It's getting harder to fit in the self-pampering, isn't it? As the week wears on, I find myself busier and if I have not planned indulgence, it will never happen.


I was thinking today that another benefit of this self-care challenge is that even if we cannot fit something seriously indulgent into the day, we start to come to awareness of how we have managed to care for ourselves already without even knowing it. The not knowing can become problematic because if we are not cognating on how we treat ourselves, we are apt to either grossly abuse or overly-indulge. For instance, today I had a cupcake with one of my tutee's as her 16th bday present, and now I am ready to pamper myself with another dessert. In the long run (and especially since I have spent since June of 07 working my ass off to loose 20 lbs), this is not pampering. If I had decided earlier in the day that the cupcake was my indulgence, I would have slowed down, savored each bite, moaned, relaxed, and enjoyed it fully. There are ways we think we are caring for ourselves that are sometimes the very opposite (doing yoga tonight instead of dessert) is what will translate into my subconscious as self-care. "Your body is the carrier of this beautiful soul...it deserves to feel good too."

For you? Hell, it may be having another cupcake. But at least a new part of the battle is illuminated...thinking about how and what truly feeds your soul.

Though I hadn't planned for today's self-care to be drinks with my soul-friend Ben, I realize now that I will be happy the rest of the night, fulfilled, satisfied in his company and in me allowing myself that leisure time connecting to a friend with whom I will grow old.

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

From Memorial Day Weekend 2009

See it all here...

Memorial Day Weekend 2009

_____________________________

I am brimming with travel anticipation! Our friends have a lovely boat and cabin on a remote island in the Puget Sound (Hat Island) and we will be spending a few days there this weekend. I would have been happy with gray skies, but Seattle has seen fit to give us 70degrees and sunny! I am so excited that I am writing this post BEFORE I eat breakfast, which almost never happens.

Before I toss myself into the shower to run up to the store for some last minute items, I wanted to ask some questions about a beach weekend. As I was trying to get myself to sleep last night, I was thinking about things I simply cannot leave behind when I leave for a beachy weekend - especially a weekend that I KNOW I will be encountering amounts of bliss, ocean*, and mimosas.

And women tend to be the worst.


Why is it that we are so quick to reassure our friends of their talents, beauty, sexiness, and intuition than we are to our own selves? Throughout the last three years of my own journey to take care of my soul, I've noticed that I am a much better friend to others than to myself. This has been noticed and I've put effort into telling myself to be kind to me, to say what I would say to someone I really loved.

And isn't that the key? A true, spiritual, humble, brilliant self-love? Christians hate this word...as if loving ourselves were akin to blaspheme. I must confess that since starting this journey, my relationship with the divine has been at peace entirely. He, like a real father, couldn't be more happy to see me being ME in all confidence and beauty, since that is after all exactly what I was created for.

Devon brought up a question last night. She mentioned not knowing what she would say if God asked her "What have you done for me." As I was washing my face for bed, I thought that I would say, "I have been the Candace you created me to be." I can imagine no other answer that would bring such joy to him.

If I couldn't answer, I would put my friends, sisters, family, and students in front of God to speak for what I had done. After all, they are better at showing us off than we our ourselves.

So to these thoughts, I make a proposition of all who want to participate. For one week, I will be keeping a list of ONE thing I did for ME that day. It can be absolutely anything as long as for 1 moment in the day, you feel fabulous and pampered. I will post my daily pampering here, and hope that you will do the same in the comments or on your own blog. If you aren't comfortable sharing publicly, shoot me an email. I plan to start Monday, May 25. At the end of the week, I will compile a list of each day so we can all look back, STUDY, and learn.

I am hoping that this community will not only give us good ideas on pampering in simple, daily ways, but will also give us fuel to fight in the battle to care for yourself.

Fight for me, and I'll fight for you.
Maybe eventually we'll learn from each other,

happy weekend, birdies. this is one happy girl reporting from sunny (and smogggy) southern california, having got my fix of In-N-Out and babies. the dunlaps (which is the first leg of my trip) have treated the saint and i well - taking us on walks, feeding us amazing mexican food, making us giggle with sheer delight and loving us as only the oldest of friends can.

i will be out of town until Monday, but to keep you voracious readers happy, i have a guest blogger all lined up. this blogger is funny, artsy, loves martinis and cats, and enjoys corndogs and cherry garcia.

so who is this amazing blogger? 

(sorry for the inferiority of this post.  it could be construed as this macs fault as i had to borrow it. PCs FOREVER biatch. :) )

i realize it is noon, but i have the beginnings of a horrible head cold, and i made myself sleep until 11:30. granted, it was not hard, so there was not a lot of self-discipline involved...but at least being sick is an excuse for 9.5hrs of sleep right?

Because of these hours and aforementioned premonition of illness, I am stiffer than a board. I decided to greet the morning with Mr. Rodney Yee in his a.m. yoga videos. You may laugh at my bed head. But only once. Begin.

Okay, now stop laughing.

I have so much house work to do today. Tomorrow, the saint and i head out to the land of ungodly sun (southern california) and will try to keep our sensitive seattle eyes from burning off (note to self: buy sunglasses). We will be visiting friends and family and enjoying some much needed stress-free vacationing. I am hoping for a few trips to In-N-Out myself - though the saint could care less for it. (To cheeseburger or not to cheeseburger is a point of debate in our discussion-rich marriage. He hates cheeseburgers - it's really unnatural. ;) )

So I must comb my hair, make my bed, do laundry, scrub the bathroom and kitchen, dust, vacuum...etc. I will be rewarded with booze tonight (after I see the Star Trek movie - how I love my husband) with friends, so I really must get to it.

Okay. At the risk of sounding like Delilah here, I truly do wonder how other people find solace, true comfort for themselves. Me? I am pretty good at it. Hell, I've made an art form of it, and I am proud to say I am actually doing it for a living.

There is comfort everywhere.
In the smell of her leather interior.
In the heated chamomile and lavender rice bag,
In the shadows from the soft kitchen light.

There is comfort in the sweet smell of his neck,
In pancakes and pina coladas,
In the sighs of relief heard across the city,
In the gifts of letters in your mailbox,
In three pitchers and dominoes,

But I didn't know that last bit until it was almost stripped from me.

I have to tell you, I fancy myself quite independent. I am surprised when I miss someone, even more shocked if I feel like I need them to help me, and damn-well stunned if I feel comforted by them. By them, I mean females.

Female relationships have always been tricky - and funnily enough - this is true of all the females I know. But in the last three or four years, something amazing has been forming in my life. There is a group of women here around me that most women dream of. It is almost movie material: funny, fashionable, soulful, artistic, witty, caring, fabulous, not-perfect, complicated, and above all - one big bubble of SUPPORT.

The last two weeks, Joel and I have been pondering relocating across the country. His work was terminating his position unless we moved to Florida, and we were actually considering it...for the spirit of adventure, in the name of courage. That was the first week.

The second week, I lost my breath. I lost my tranquility. I would have lost them.

I had no idea I was attached. I had no idea I felt insecure about my role, I had no idea that I relied on them more than just for fun, sex talk, or boozy brunches. What a gross oversight on my part. You have to wonder how things will change when you move. You start to play games with yourself, listening to lies of "you're not that important to them," "they will be glad to have a break from your complexities..." etc.

Alas. Insecurity...I have always approached it with the understanding that it was ME. I was responsible for my own security and no one else was to be put upon to assure me of their attachment. If I felt insecure, it was my own problem. But through this whole process and a few pretty amazing, honest conversations, I see that I can express insecurities without demanding assurances.

The anxiety of the last two weeks is still poisoning my bones, despite feeling it slowly slipping down the drain with each hot bath. But this time, I didn't do it alone. I didn't put the whole burden, this great pressure, of comforting myself solely upon my shoulders. Dears, how I find celebratory clinks in this small step towards connection and dependence.

I have also discovered the next step of recovering my small child inside - allowing her to be insecure. It repels my being, it turns my stomach with weakness and disgust, but I know it's next. Despite my dread, I find small courage in one thought:

Happy Mother's Day to all of you hard-working, always-loving, forever-sacrificing procreators out there. To the mothers of small children, I send strength, encouragement, and frozen moments of unparalleled bliss. You are heroic to me.

jean and joel

to a woman who loves her children with such a nurturing, intelligent, abundantly-trusting love...
who loves what i love just because she loves me so much...
from the friends we have to the projects we pursue,
you are ever a loving and true example.



mary and candace

to a woman who knows me as no one else does...
as a child.
to you i say how happy i am to be a part of you.
a superb and unparalleled listener
whose heart is full of the brightest good.

without even really meaning for it to be the goal, i have noticed a pattern forming. i keep trying new things! two weeks ago, i tried a new recipe. last week, i bought a cardigan that has a pattern. this week i touched charcoal to paper for the first time.




oh how GOOD it is for the soul to try...
crm

*note. i did not draw the man. that was the saint. i cannot draw things that actually resemble anything else...YET (more on the power of "yet" soon.)

'Tis a sanctuary where all thy grief
Is soon hushed to a heavenly calm;
And thy fainting heart finds sweet relief,
From the perils that threat thee with harm.
A defense doth encompass thee round,
And a viewless protection is thine;
Of the foes that against thee combine.
There a bright ray of light from above
Drives afar the dark gloom of despair;
And a spirit descends like a dove,
Dropping dewy serenity there.
From the wild warring storms of the world,
From the brunt of the heart-piercing shower,
That around thee its tempests hath hurl'd.
Thou escap'st to they sheltering bower!"