For Well-Being and Happiness, Focus on Self-Love

Valentine's Day is almost here! This year I hope you give kindness and compassion to someone worthy of your attention. You.

Science is clear that self-love and self-care are critical to well-being and happiness. People who value themselves are more likely to engage in healthy behaviors, have better health, and higher satisfaction in relationships. 

One study, published in Clinical Psychological Science, showed people who focused on self-compassion had lower heart rates and sweat responses compared to those with critical thoughts about themselves. Study author, Dr. Hans Kirschner, explained the results, "These findings suggest that being kind to oneself switches off the threat response and puts the body in a state of safety and relaxation that is important for regeneration and healing." 

Despite the many benefits, I've discovered two common beliefs that hold women back from practicing self-love and self-care:

Belief #1. Self-care is selfish.  

My response: You become better in all of your roles and relationships when you are healthy and happy. In addition, you model the importance of physical and mental self-care to your loved ones. Win-win!

Belief #2. If I accept and love myself and my current body, I will become complacent and won't be motivated to make changes.

My response: 28 years of education and experience have shown me the the opposite! Shame and an "I-hate-my-body" attitude do not motivate positive change and instead reinforce negative behaviors. 

So what does self-love and self-care look like? Well, it does NOT look like dieting, deprivation, or counting calories or grams! That's not love! Instead, it looks like:

• Valuing your well-being and happiness.
• Setting healthy boundaries with others. 
• Talking to yourself with kindness and compassion.
• Caring for your here-and-now body with respect.
• Listening to your body's signals (like hunger and satiety). 
• Eating nourishing foods and eating foods that bring you pleasure.
• Getting adequate rest and sleep.
• Frequent joyful movement.
• Forgiving yourself for past mistakes.
• Managing your stress in healthy ways.
• Surrounding yourself with people who lift you higher.
• Spending time in nature.
• Participating in activities that bring you joy.
• Living your values and speaking your truth.
• Acknowledging that self-love is a journey.

This Valentine's Day and beyond, please give yourself some love!  

💗💗💗

I help women move beyond dieting and overwhelm, toward their passions and purpose. Email me at kathianne.williams(at)gmail.com, to learn more. Clients who start before the new Nourish.Create.Bloom. website launches on April 1st will receive a discount.

A Shout Out to My Favorite Black Person

Today I'm giving a shout out to to my favorite black person. (Although in my opinion, he's more of a chocolate brown.) Click here for a segment that Dallas News 5 aired today on Brian and the history of black men in medicine.

It's such a gift for me to be able to watch these brief videos. Brian and I have been together since July 4, 2001 (the first week of his surgical residency!) and up until last year, I hadn't ever seen him doing his "surgical thing." He works A LOT (when we first started dating he was working 120+ hours a week sometimes and no, that is not a typo or an exaggeration.) I've seen his various offices over the years, but I never saw him in the operating room or scrubbing in. To the people at the hospital, he is a big deal trauma surgeon. But to me, (for many years although not recently,) he was my husband who was never home. And that was especially hard when our daughter arrived two months after we moved across the country for his job and I was sans family support or my tribe. 

Now, this next part is sort of embarassing, but I'll tell you anyway dear reader. Prior to last year's Black Men White Coats video, I would occasionally watch Trauma: Life in the ER, just so I could just get a sense of what his life was like in those many hours at work. I wanted to better understand him and the demands of his career. And I confess, I would watch the trauma surgeon on the tv show and think: Wow! It is so sexy how that guy is taking command of such a chaotic situation and is literally making life-or-death decisions while his hands are inside someone's guts. It allowed me to be more tolerant of his absences. It also helped to think about all the people he is helping everyday- not just patients but the underrepresented minority youths who see him and know that being a surgeon (even while being a first generation college graduate!) could be possible for them too.

 So, here I am. SHOUTING. 

Love Looks Like a Glitter Lava Lamp

Apparently all the red and pink in the stores this week inspired me to blog again. Twice in one week. Whoop, whoop! You go me.

Actually, the real inspiration came when my husband, Brian, gifted me with freedom. He took our daughter to school and took Disco to "the doggy spa." So I was totally free for 6 divine, uninterupted hours. 

And the whole time I was creating/writing/learning, I gazed at this lovely thing:

Brian gave it to me that morning for Valentine's Day. I could say that he got it for me because he knows me so well. But that's not completely true. Really it's because the last time I was visiting my BFF in Arizona, we saw this glorious, glittery, glowing thing and I asked her to text Brian right away and tell him to get me this. Since it's screaming, "KATHIANNE!" in big sparkly letters, I'm sure he would have bought it for me had he seen it on his own. But since he had to go to 4(!!!!) Target stores without success and then ended up buying this one online from Amazon, I'm guessing he would not have found it and I would not have it and thus you would not be reading this blog post right now. 

The morals to this glitter lava lamp love story?

1. Don't be afraid to ask for exactly what you want.

2. Enlist your BFF for assistance in gift-buying. 

3. Love is a verb. 

4. Persistance pays off.

5. Money cannot buy happiness. But it can buy a glitter lava lamp and for me that's pretty darn close.

Everytime I see this magnificent expression of his love, 😝

I will think of how he went to great efforts to find it for me. 

💖That's love with sparkles. 💖

Go Spread Love

My Dear Readers,

I'm sending you love. 

Texas-sized, sparkly love.  

From my home to yours.

It's LOVE Week! It's LOVE month! Even if you don't have a "Special Lady" or "Special Mister," it's no matter. Surely there is someone (ANYONE) who you love and someone who loves you. This is a great time to send them a 😘 text, a card via snail mail with glitter in the envelope (it's not too late, it's never too late), a 💖 posted on their Facebook page, or an extra long hug. You might even consider leaving a comment on a blog post (hint,hint.)

Send love to people (and animals) who really need a reminder that they matter: refugees, foster children, sick kids, the impoverished or homeless, injured veterans, abandoned animals, lonely old folks, and grieving families to name a few. Give a smile, money, hugs, prayers, your time, your gently used clothes and homegoods, and/or notes that say you care. Pick up garbage that you didn't leave to love our verdant planet. Practice self-care (NOURISH yourself with dark chocolate, blackberries, green tea, long walks, and bubble baths. Or gratitude-journal writing, time being creative, and 15 minutes sitting in silence so you can hear your soul.) Love yourself and then love others from your overflow! 

And who doesn't love this bunny who is obviously the life of the fiesta?

This world needs more love! So be a love spreader! Spread love like heart-shaped confetti blowing in a 55 mph wind gust. (Biodegradable confetti, of course, because we also love Mother Earth.)

Please keep me posted on ways that you are spreading love this month! 

↣↣↣💘↢↢↢

PS: If you have little ones at home, try this craft with them. It's super easy and fun.

I-Spy Sticker Cards

I save all of the stickers we accumulate (lots of $1 sticker packs from Target, it might be a problem) in a bin and then whip out the bin for projects like this. Just take a notecard and stick, stick, stick away. It's great for fine motor development.

We (and by we, I mean me because God gave me a daughter who is perfect as he made her except that can only sit to do craft projects for 3-8 minutes at a time) made these for some of our little friends that live far away. On the back I wrote: We made you an I-Spy! Can you find.....a strawberry, a squirrel, a teeny skull, and....... What else can you find? I sent the cards in envelopes to keep the stickers from falling off in the mail. A sealant like Mod-Podge would also protect them if you are more inclined to send postcards.

Go spread love Dear Readers!

Reflections on Becoming Unexpected Activists (Or Our Life went Crazy Pants)

 Photo Source

Here's what I learned when my husband opened his mouth, cried on international TV, and our life went crazy pants:

1. You really NEVER know what is coming next in life. Good or bad. Control is an illusion.  
2. Pack a basic black dress you can wear twice OR pack a second dress. (See number 1.) You just never know what is coming next. Like, that time we were asked to meet the President the very next day and I only had packed one dress- that I was already wearing that night. On T.V.
3. Be present on the journey. Whatever you are experiencing will likely end soon, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride. (Or throw your arms in the air and scream like hell.) Maybe take notes and take pictures. But be sure to FEEL the wind in your hair and your stomach dropping on the downhill. It's a challenge to be present- I'm a work in progress on this one. But I'm committed to the practice and I've gotten somewhat better through the years.
4. Don't read the comments. (I did not do well with this one, I admit.) It amazes me how people watch the same video yet receive messages that are polar opposites. It's a bit scary, actually. But as Brené Brown says, the bystanders' opinions don't matter. The only opinions that matter are the ones in the arena. Frankly, I think when people automatically assume the worst of someone, it reflects more on the judger than the judgee. (I'm pretty sure I made those words up. And I'm going to keep them in here anyway.)
5. Don't be afraid to DARE GREATLY. Brian and I read Brené Brown's book, Daring Greatly as our own little book club. Brian feels it was life-changing. (And therefore it's life-changing for me too, as my life changed/changes when his does.) Brian only moved people at that press conference because he was courageous enough to be vulnerable. He showed emotion and people FELT that. Vulnerability leads to connection. (If only he had shown emotion the first 14 years we were together...but hey, that leads me to the next point.)
6. Live for the now and believe in the future. Breathe, believe, receive. GREAT things are coming your way. (And excuse me now- I'm going to get a bit spiritual and use the G word) God's plans for you are SO MUCH BIGGER than you can possibly imagine. He will use your pain for good. He will take a man who hadn't cried for 35 years, break him open, and then have him cry on international TV. He took a man who very rarely spoke about race with anyone, who was incredibly private, who turned down press interviews in the past and gave him the courage to Be the Change. I'm telling you- if a year-and-a-half ago you would have told me my husband was going to cry (just cry!) I would have laughed IN YOUR FACE. I used to tell him that I could die and he still probably wouldn't cry.   

Here are a few links from some of my favorite interviews from that time:

Dallas Trauma Surgeon Reflects on Irony of Treating Wounded Police Officers
With Ari Shapiro on NPR All Things Considered, July 15, 2016  (5 min 40 sec)

A History of White Delusion
Nicolas Kristof, The New York Times, July 14, 2016

Parkland Doctor's Candid Words Resonated with Black Professionals
Maria Halkias, The Dallas Morning News, July 15th, 2016

Surgeon Who Tried to Save Dallas Cops
BBC World Service, August 4, 2016 (50 min.)

I've Been Busy

It's been a long while since my last post. I'm still working on balancing time between the demands of motherhood, quality time with my husband, traveling to see family and friends, and my wellness, creative, and personal pursuits (of which blogging is one.) My blog ends up on the bottom of the list. And for some crazy reason, I even feel a bit guilty about my lack of blog posts. But why, I ask myself? No one is paying me to post. And while many people have commented that they enjoy reading my blog, I don't think anyone is anxiously awaiting the next NCB update. 
(But if you are, please let me know!) 

Since I haven't been blogging as much, I'll fill you in on some of my activities for the past few months. I've been focusing on some important things in my daughter's life. Things that are here today, but gone tomorrow. And I've been quite busy….

clearing traffic jams,

 attempting potty training,

pimping my child's ride,

mastering architecture and castle construction,

(and I'm actually quite proud of these),

building a sled MacGyver-style from a diaper box, packing tape, and belt, 

(and then letting go of the reign),

encouraging self-expression,

exploring our city,

giving Elmo dreadlocks and then supervising his haircut,

and driving a rocketship-sized cart throughout Whole Foods 

while navigating wild animals and an "I want this!" meltdown. 

(In full disclosure, this might have been the first time I didn't run into an aisle. 

These carts are huge. And tricky, my friend.)

Thanks for your patience between my posts. And thank you for following Nourish. Create. Bloom, 

my Dear Readers.

Glittering Thanks

A Very Happy Thanksgiving 2013

Here's how we give glitter thanks at our house.

Turkey Craft Number 1: Glam Gobbler

Clockwise from top left:
1. We found the inspiration for our turkey on a window at Beni's preschool.
2. I'm teaching her early- you can NEVER add too much sparkle.
3. Turkey in progress…

And here is our Glam Gobbler making his internet debut:

We were both so happy with how he turned out. He's a keeper for sure.

Turkey Craft Number 2: Sending Gratitude

Clockwise from top left:
1. and 2. Making handprint turkeys with paint and glitter.
3. The finished product says: We are thankful for you.
4. Sending our love to Godparents, grandparents, and beloved aunts and uncles.

Celebrating Thanksgiving at Preschool

Clockwise from top left: 

1. Beni-Bird modeling her Native American headband.

2. The Williams family feather: what we are thankful for.

3. Side view of previously mentioned fashionable headdress.

4. A huge turkey of thanks at Beni's school (one feather contributed by each family.)

Thanksgiving Day Traditions

Clockwise from top left:

1. and 3. Watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

2. Our vegetarian meal.

4. One dessert for each of us. 

A Night of Thanks

Clockwise from top left:

1. Gratitude-themed books.

2. Sitting by the fire for story time.

3. My art journal entry for 11-28-2013.

4. I've been recording blessings in my gratitude journal since 2002.

And one more thing I'm so grateful for…..
 you, Dear Reader.

***

PS: Please forgive the funky formatting and the extra spaces. I swear, it doesn't look like this on my end. I spent over an hour trying to fix it and then decided to publish "as is" before I lose my good feelings of gratitude. What a relief it is to let go of "perfection"!

My Mom and Alzheimer's- Forever Grateful for Just ONE Moment

Me and my mama, Jacqueline Joslin Sellers.
In this photo, my mom is 39, the age I am now.

I had a "normal" mother for the first 30 years of my life. But by my wedding date, she was no longer the mom I knew.

My mother has Alzheimer's Disease.

When I finally became a mother at the age of 36, the "loss" of my own mother became more apparent. Strands of this deep loss are woven into my extreme joy. I see how my friends' mothers interact with their grandchildren and I feel sad. Sad that my daughter, my mother, and I were all robbed of generational experiences that I now long for. 

My mother will never know my daughter. My daughter will know of her maternal grandmother, but she will never know her. Not on this Earth, or in this lifetime anyway. I am comforted by a vivid dream my sister, Marilee, recently shared with me. In it, my mother told Marilee that when she wasn't here (mentally present), she was with God and it was beautiful. Marilee said my mother radiated peace and that Mom was the happiest and most beautiful she'd ever seen her.

I'm embarrassed and saddened to admit I never truly appreciated my mother until I became a mother myself. Until then, I focused on her flaws and her parenting faults. But now I want to ask her how she did it. How did she manage birthing and caring for my four brothers all by the age of 26? How and why did she manage to have six children when I find one overwhelming? How did she sacrifice so much to raise us all? How did she not seem to be tired, stressed, or depleted? These are questions that will go unanswered.

At the end of September, my little girl (I call her Beni-Bird) and I flew from Texas to the east coast to visit my family. We made an overnight trip to my hometown and got a chance to see my mom. 

My brother, Paul, and Marilee tried to prepare me as I hadn't seen her for two years. Mom is now in a wheelchair, they said, and sometimes she is unresponsive. Paul said he stayed only three minutes last time because it was just too painful to see her in that state. 

As fate would have it, when I saw Mom it was a "good day" for her. She was awake, and alert, and in a pleasant mood. I knew Mom wouldn't know who we were. But still I was unprepared when my brother, Mark, introduced my sister and I and she asked, "But where are the real ones?" 

My active two and 1/2-year-old seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment. She was very still as I introduced her. "Beni, this is my mama, your grandmother."

At the end of our visit, we all wheeled Mom back into the dining room of the Alzheimer's unit. We put her at the table amid the other unit residents, some who needed to be fed by an aide because they had forgotten how to feed themselves. Mom asked us not to leave her because then, "Who will I talk to?" 

I put Beni in front of her and once again told Mom this was my daughter, her granddaughter. Mom just kept repeating, "she's so beautiful, she's so beautiful" and even got teary as she said it. This was my ONE moment. My mother acknowledged my daughter on an emotional (and dare I say spiritual) level. 

Then, with tears streaming down my face, I knelt down by my mother's side and told her she was a good mother. I told her I loved her very much and I gave her a hug. And then I got a second gift- she told me she loved me. 

There is a lot my family lost to Alzheimer's disease. But on that visit, I was given one precious moment of my mother, myself, and my daughter all together; and my mom was as aware as she could possibly be. She was moved to tears by my child, and it was a beautiful ONE moment. That moment is all I will likely ever have. So I will hold onto it. And repeat it often to my daughter. And forever be grateful. Forever grateful for ONE moment.

***

Dear Reader, please take note:

November is the month to celebrate gratitude. It also happens to be my mom's birthday month and National Alzheimer's Awareness Month. For all of these reasons, I dedicate this post to my loving mother, Jacqueline Joslin Sellers.

Several years ago I wrote a post about my mom's Alzheimer's called Reflections from the Old Folk's Home. This was before her mental state deteriorated so much that she needed to be moved away from my father's care and into full-time care in the Alzheimer's unit.

A version of this current post first appeared on Voices from the 'Ville.

A Heavy Heart

Boston.

My beloved city.

My home for 10 incredible years.

I no longer live in you, but you will always live in me.

My heart aches for you today.

Patriot's Day 

2013

Powerful Serendipity

Serendipity fills me with awe. It's a split-second in time when I can sense the order in the Universe. When all the stars are aligned and I feel that we are all connected. That everything is and always has been ok. That love is all there is.

I had a serendipitous event last week. It was so powerful, I had to share it with you, my dear readers.  

Last week I headed to a follow up appointment for my recent mouth surgeries. The first floor of the parking lot (where I always park) was completely full, so I parked on a higher level and took the stairs. In the stairwell was a mama of a newborn. She was lugging him down the stairs in his carseat, quite a few steps ahead of me. 

For some reason, I felt drawn to them. When close enough to get a peek, I noticed her baby had a double cleft lip. It was not yet repaired. I'd never seen someone without the repair. (In fact, it was only a few years ago that I first saw my newborn photo. I was moved to tears, seeing myself before my lip was sewn together. Somewhere in my kid brain, I thought my parents were embarrassed by my birth defect so they didn't have any pre-surgery photos.)

I called down the stairs and asked how old he was.

"Nine days," she replied.

He looked at me so sweetly from under his pale blue beanie. He was blissfully unaware of the long road of surgeries, dental issues, possible speech therapy, tears, and insecurity that can come from having a facial birth defect. His mama, however, had a troubled look.

"He's going to be okay," I told his mama. "I too have a cleft lip."

She stopped walking and leaned toward me to inspect my face. "Yeah," she said, "Your repair looks really good."

"It will make him a stronger person," I said, as goosebumps covered my whole body.

"Thank you, thank you for that," she said with a smile. She seemed genuinely grateful for my remarks.

And then we parted. It was a brief moment in time. One that I feel will stick with me for a long while. I even have goosebumps now, as I type this.

God put us on that stairwell at exactly the same time. I am sure of it. 

Of course, I didn't tell her that I was on my way in to see the doctor because at 38, I am still dealing with issues because of my cleft palate. Hopefully, with medical advancements in the treatment of cleft palates, his journey to healing will be much shorter than mine. 

At first I thought our paths crossed because she needed to hear that her precious baby was going to be ok. Upon further reflection, I realized I needed to see him too. I thought of that baby boy when I was at my doctor appointment and thought, Be strong for him, Kathianne. It doesn't make any sense, really, but it did give me strength. And perspective. 

This little guy is just starting on his path to healing. And after 38 years, I am (hopefully) near completion. 

Dear readers, please join me in sending out healing thoughts to this anonymous little boy.

Confessions from an Adoptive Mother

Thank you, Dear Readers, for the outpouring of support I received for my last post, Time to Confess. Your blog comments, Facebook comments, and emails reminded me that I have a "virtual village." I am honored you shared my words with your friends. I am grateful you took a moment out of your busy day to write a comment.

So, while I'm at it, I have some more confessions to share.

Once a month, I get angry at The Powers that Be. I'm working on letting go of my anger, because I know it only hurts myself. Anger is a stage in the grief process, and it's the emotion I feel every month when I am suffering from severe menstrual cramps.

Many years ago, when I was complaining to my sister, she comforted me by saying how cramps are the body's way of preparing the uterus for childbirth. So, for a few years there, her words provided a teeny bit of comfort. I felt like my pain had a purpose and one day, when I experienced the miracle of childbirth, it would all be worthwhile.

But I am not destined to be a biological mama. And each month for the past 25 years, I've been experiencing one to three days of severe cramps and/or associated PMS. It just makes me, well, a bit pissed off. Because, what is the point?!?!? Each month now, the physical pain triggers a deep, deep psychological pain. It is a reminder of what I will never experience. I will never carry a life in my womb. I will never feel a baby kick from the inside. I will never have a child with my legs or my husbands eyes. My genetic line (and I can trace my ancestry back at least four generations with photos) dies with me.

I'm still mourning the death of my dream. I sometimes wonder if I will ever stop mourning. The wound will heal, but will the scar remain or fade away?

Ironically, adoption was always a part of my parenting plan. I used to tell people that I just wanted to have one of my own first because I wanted to experience the miracle of pregnancy. I wanted to create life. I dreamed of witnessing my baby's first breath; of feeling overwhelmed with love when I held my seconds-old baby.

Adoption is a miracle. No less of a miracle than biological childbirth. I tell my daughter she is my miracle. Because of all the mamas and all the babies in the whole wide world, we found each other. I tell her mommy waited and waited and waited for her spirit to come to us and she was worth the wait. I tell her she is my wish come true and she made me a mama, something I always dreamed of. I'll tell her that for some reason, she didn't come through me, but she was always meant to be mine. A fellow adoptive mother once told me we adoptive mamas are the space holders. We are an open space for babies who need a home. Maybe this is the reason.

But I am dreading the day she realizes she did not come from us but instead grew in another woman's belly. We've never made her adoption a secret, it's just that now she's too young to understand what it all means. It pains me that she could feel a lifelong sense of loss because her birthmother chose to give her away. One adopted woman told me no matter how good she had it in her adopted family, she always felt a sense of loss because she was given away. I plan to tell my child she was always destined to be my daughter. We don't have a genetic connection, but we have a spiritual one. And that is the one that counts. That one is even thicker than blood.

Hours after she was born, her birthmother asked us to love her baby like she was our own. This now seems odd to me, because SHE IS OUR OWN. I can't imagine loving her anymore. I'm almost positive that could not even be possible. (Although, how would I know for sure? Sometimes I wonder, which is ridiculous, because why does it even matter?)

But here's another confession: it saddens me that I am not my child's ONLY mama. I know this is selfish. If a mother can love more than one child, I'm sure a child can love more than one mother. So I tell myself that she will experience more love. I should be happy about that. It's just that I have this fear that when she chooses to track down her biological family (if she does), that I'll be replaced. That she will want to spend holidays with them. It's not a huge fear, but it's still there.

Sometimes I forget she is adopted. But sometimes I'm painfully reminded. Once at Gymboree, a nanny asked me if she was my child. "Yes," I replied. "Are you sure?" she said, "She doesn't look anything like you." WTF!?! Of course, I started crying. People say the rudest things. Several people have asked me about her "real" mother. I now reply that I am her real mother. I'm the one who checks her in the middle of the night to make sure she is still breathing; the one that wipes her tears and kisses her boo-boos. I have been there for her since she was ten minutes old. (I wanted to be there sooner, but legally she wasn't ours then and it wasn't my decision. So I missed her entry into the world. When she took her first breath, I was feeling helpless from the waiting room. I heard a cry (hers?) and my arms longed to comfort her. "She needs me," I sobbed into my husband's arms. Although, to be honest with myself, it was me who needed her.)

So, maybe you can understand my feelings a little better now. My journey to motherhood was complicated. Just like all the other really great things in life, it was joy and sorrow, love and loss, pain and sheer bliss all rolled up in one. Because I am immensely grateful that my daughter is healthy, and beautiful, and exactly as she is. I honestly wouldn't change how she came to us. Because then she wouldn't be her. I am a better person because of my journey. I am for sure a better mother too. Infertilty and adoption were a challenge for our marriage, but my husband and I have grown closer as well.

I will never take being a mama for granted. I want to always remember how much I loved and longed for my baby before she even was conceived (in a state far away, in a different woman's body, just waiting to reunite with me, her own, real mama.)

It's just that, even while somewhere in me I knew otherwise, I was still kinda hoping maybe I would get pregnant too. Deep down I was hoping that my parenting plan was just reversed. I was hoping maybe the pregnancy would come after the adoption.

But that won't happen. Last month I decided to go back on The Pill. After almost five years off of it, I can't take the pain anymore. By choosing to take it, I am completely closing the door on my dream of a biological baby. While I'm pretty sure the door was closed already, my hope had kept it just a teeny bit ajar. I visualize that hope as a light seeping out from the edge of the door. But now, that light has gone out.

Four Years Ago Today

Today as I watched the inauguration of President Obama, (on the exact day we celebrate MLK!), I am reminded of this same ceremony four years ago. At that time, while feeling the magic of history unfolding, I penned the following words to my unborn biracial child:

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009
As I write this you have not even been conceived, although I am hoping and praying it will be soon. I am watching the inauguration of Barak Obama and I am filled with such excitement for your future. History is unfolding in a huge way and the implications for you and other children of color around the world are profound. You will never know a world in which only white men ruled this great country. You will be born into a new era-- one filled with hope and the promise of a new day. I have wanted you for so long and have cried many tears during the long wait. But I can now see, this is the year of your arrival.

Well, I was wrong about that last line. I shed many more tears in the twenty three long months between writing the above letter and our child's arrival. As you may know, our precious baby girl came to us via the miracle of adoption in the last month of 2010. 

This year I watched the inauguration ceremony after I put her to bed. (Unfortunately, I was watching Yo Gabba Gabba during the live television coverage.) Typing my 2009 words into this blog post reminded me of the excitement, the national pride, and the severe longing I was then feeling. It makes my chest feel tight and almost brings me to tears. But it doesn't. Because in the next room, my beautiful little mocha latte girl is now sleeping. I look forward to teaching her about President Obama and Martin Luther King, Jr. I also look forward to sharing this letter with her. But most of all, I look forward to telling her how much she was loved and longed for, years before she was even conceived.

Dreams can come true.

My Big Day with Oprah- Take Two

Did I mention I was in the same room with Oprah?!?!

Being present for the taping of two Oprah's Lifeclass episodes was just a bonus. And sitting next to my bestie in the front row (stage right) to boot! Dreams really do come true.

"My" shows already aired live on Oprah.com and will air on television (OWN- The Oprah Winfrey Network) in January 2013. I'll try and give you a heads up on an exact date if possible. But only if you promise not to laugh if you see me jumping around like a crazy woman.

The theme of my Lifeclass episodes was Living with Purpose and Rick Warren was the guest. Warren is the author of The Purpose Driven Life; the #2 best-selling non-fiction book of all time. Second only to the Bible. I had forgotten that President Obama selected him to give the invocation at his inauguration (which, by the way, upset a lot of social progressives.)

I wasn't excited when I discovered Rick Warren was going to be the guest. I knew he was an Evangelical Christian minister at a religious right megachurch, and that made me a bit skeptical. (But it didn't really matter who the guest was because I was going to be in the same room as Oprah!) Of course, I shouldn't have doubted my Oprah. Warren turned out to be a great guest and I learned a lot from him. There were a lot of ah-ha moments, a lot of murmered mmm hmms, and a few Amens! from the audience. It was a great reminder for me not to prejudge the messenger; to just listen to the message and then let my heart judge it's truth for me.

Which reminds me of a great quote from another spiritual leader:
Believe in nothing, no matter where you read it or who has said it, not even if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense. -Buddha

Here are the notes (quotes, concepts, and meaningful phrases) I furiously pecked into my phone during the taping:

In the poker game of life, we are dealt five cards:
1. Chemistry- our physical make-up, appearance, DNA
2. Connections- our relationships
3. Circumstances- we give them too much power
4. Consciousness- how we talk to ourselves, the voice in your head
5. Choices- this card can make or break your entire hand

Nick Vujicic was dealt an incredibly rough hand. If you are not familiar with his story, please take the time to watch this YouTube video. The 4 minutes and 11 seconds will undoubtedly be the most inspirational of your day. It's a great reminder that 95% of the things we worry or complain about are miniscule in the grand scheme of things. Warren's only request for his appearance on Oprah's Lifeclass was to have Vujicic on the show. It was powerful to see him in person- he radiates positive energy and an authentic power despite his enormous physical limitations. (I am happy to report that Vujicic just got married and his wife is expecting their first child. Doesn't that make you smile inside?)

And now on to more show notes:

God's plan for us/ our life's purpose is like a Polaroid picture. It starts out just a shadow, and with time the picture becomes clearer and into focus. If you don't yet know God's plan for you, just wait. It will become clear in time.

Hope= Holding On Praying Expectantly

If you live by the approval of others, you will die by their rejection. -Rick Warren

The two things that will cause you to miss your life's purpose:
1. Envy- I must be like you to be happy.
2. People Pleasing- I must be liked by you to be happy.
You must live your life for an audience of one.

We often look for love in our accomplishments, acheivements, and appearance. To be authenically powerful (significant,) we need to find a way to give our gifts in service.

Stages of a Dream
Dream
Decision
Delay
Difficulty
Dead End (Death of a Vision)
Deliverance

I'm sure you can relate these stages to a situation in your own life. To illustrate the idea for you, I'll use the example of my dream to be a mama: Once Hubby and I decided to start conceiving, we were met with significant delays. Followed by significant difficulities. Then our dead end- IVF failed and we were told we wouldn't have our biological child without a miracle. Then 5.5 long (and yet now seemingly short) months later, a stranger birthed our baby. The baby destined to be our child. In fact, the one we were always waiting for, we just didn't realize it. Deliverance!

Miser- the root word of miserable. Not a coincidence. We receive by giving.

How do you find your life's purpose? Look at the things that shape you:
1. Spiritual gifts (I'm not 100% sure what he meant by this. Anyone have input?)
2. Heart (What are your passions?)
3. Abilities (What are you good at/ with?)
4. Personality
5. Experiences (Jobs, education, family, painful experiences)

Our greatest strengths often come out of our pain -Rick Warren

God never wastes a hurt. We might, but he won't. He will use it for good.

The way you serve God is by serving others.

It's all about love.

Humility- It's not about denying your strengths, it's about being honest about your weaknesses.

There are accidental parents, there are no accidental babies.

You can waste your life, or you can invest it. Invest in what will outlast you, people and love.

Please share if any of these notes touched you in some way. I know I'm going to buy the book. Anyone else? I'd love to have some people to discuss it with chapter by chapter.


*FYI: The first seven chapters of The Purpose Driven Life are available free on the book website.

HaPpY LoVe DaY

Valentine's Day isn't just about romantic love- 

it's a time to share hugs, kisses, kind words, and glittery cards with those we care about. 

So here are a few random happy things I'm sharing with you, my reader, on this LoVe DaY.

Baby Girl never met a puppy she didn't like. 

So we sent out 8 vintage-inspired sparkling puppy love valentines 

to special little friends who live too far away.

  We went a bit overboard with stickers on each envelope.  

Check out the stud muffin sticker- doesn't it make your heart smile?

When I was little, I wished my mom would cut my sandwiches into hearts.  And guess what?  

Now I can be that mom.  Here I'm spreading love with a PB and banana sandwich.

And saving the best for last...

Wendell Berry wrote "The Wild Rose" for his wife.  

It made me think of my hubby, so it's the Valentine message I'm writing inside his card.

And it's just so beautiful, I wanted to share it with you too.

Sometimes hidden from me

in daily custom and in trust,

so that I live by you unaware

as by the beating of my heart,

Suddenly you flare in my sight,

a wild rose blooming at the edge

of thicket, grace and light

where yesterday was only shade,

and once again I am blessed, choosing 

again what I chose before.