Lion

This post is dedicated to my friend, Renee. We met in person this past summer at BlogHer, although we already "knew" each other through our blogs. She is one of the amazing women that I had the opportunity to get to know more during those few wonderful days in Chicago last summer.

Another one of those amazing women is Issa. Issa recently put together an Internet baby shower for Renee, who is awaiting the arrival of her son, Lion. Lion is not inside of her belly, waiting to come out. Lion is not in the NICU, waiting to be strong enough to come home. Lion is not even in the same time zone as his waiting mother. Lion is 7,000 miles away. He and Renee are both waiting for another land to tell them it's time for them to finally be together.

But there is another place that Lion resides, and has before he was even born... in the heart of Renee.

Stay brave Renee, your wait will soon be over.

Best performance EVER

If you missed Pink's performance at the Grammys, you must check it out here.



"Glitter" is one of my favorite Pink songs, but you don't have to be a fan to appreciate this amazing performance. Hope you enjoy it!

What's that? The Grammys was like forever ago, and I'm supposed to be blogging about Superbowl commercials now you say? Eh. I don't think people are coming here to keep up on current events. So there.

Leading with my heart

In my effort to do a little self healing, I've been doing some intense yoga sessions the past few days. I've only been practicing yoga the past six months or so, but I swear it's what got me through that last few tough months at work.

Aside from the obvious physical benefits, I've gotten so much out of yoga spiritually. One theme that seems to run through a lot of my classes as we're going through different poses, is the idea of leading with your heart, instead of your head. Leading with your heart opens up your body and your mind.

In tonight's class, I was working on getting into a full wheel back bend pose for the first time. I was following the direction of the instructor, but I could not even get on top of my head, much less push my arms up into the bend. I really didn't believe I could do this pose. I just wasn't ready, it was too soon for me. But in tonight's small private session, the instructor kept working with us and having us try again and again. Each time, tweaking just a little, and getting just a little further into the pose. Then she assisted each of us, holding and lifting us up, so we could feel what it was like to be there. And again, she had us try on our own. Until finally, I actually got my head off the ground and lifted myself into the pose.

Leading with my heart, in that moment, I knew that yes - everything will be alright.

Have I cried yet? No. But it will come. In it's time, and most likely it will take me by surprise. And again, with a few adjustments and some assistance from friends, I'll know that everything will be alright.

If the darkest hour comes before the light,

where is the light?

Driving into the city for my first appointment with my career counselor today, I felt like I was driving to my own funeral. Not because I'm afraid that I won't get a job. Because I'm afraid that I will. I no longer have the gift of time that was bestowed upon me when I was laid off. Time to rest. Time to organize. Time with my kids. Time to discover what I want to do, and time to find the job that best fits my life.

I was eleven when my Father died. I didn't cry at his funeral. I remember feeling like I needed to hold up everyone else around me who was falling apart. I remember feeling like I needed to take care of my Mom and my sister now. I remember feeling very rational about the whole thing. I remember the pastor asking me if I knew where my Father was, and thinking to myself "What are you, crazy? He's right over there in that coffin.", although I don't remember using those exact words. I also don't remember feeling the need to cry.

I have a very hard time letting myself be completely vulnerable. Even when I lean on friends, I always feel like I need to be sure that they know I am ok. Even though I've never felt burdened by being there for someone, I never want to be a burden to anyone. I've always felt that simply who I am, may be overwhelming to most people. I am the type of person who will tell you my life story within five minutes of meeting you, but I hold part of myself inside. I could count on one hand, the number of people in my lifetime that have seen that part of me.

Just for a moment, I want to not be strong. I want to not ensure everyone else around me is ok. Just for a moment, I want to be held. I need to cry.


Storm, by Lifehouse

how long have I
been in this storm
so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form
water's getting harder to tread
with these waves crashing over my head

if I could just see you
everything will be alright
if I'd see you
the storminess will turn to light

and I will walk on water
and you will catch me if I fall
and I will get lost into your eyes
and everything will be alright
and everything will be alright

I know you didn't bring me out here to drown
so why am I 10 feet under and upside down
barely surviving has become my purpose
cause I'm so used to living underneath the surface

if I could just see you
everything will be alright
if I see you
the storminess will turn to light

and I will walk on water
and you will catch me if I fall
and I will get lost into your eyes
and everything will be alright

and I will walk on water
you will catch me if I fall
and I will get lost into your eyes
and everything will be alright
I know everything is alright
everything's alright