There’s nothing like the feeling of freedom: the lightness, the expansiveness, the opportunities, the bliss. This month, we invite you to express how you experience freedom. Be it physical, emotional, spiritual, verbal, or otherwise, let July be a month of creative liberation to proclaim your freedom(s) alongside us.
We’ll be back on the 14th, 21st, and 28th to share our quotes and the stories behind our photos. In the meantime, join us here, on Instagram (@sheisthree), and Facebook with your self-portraits depicting the ways you have found freedom. Remember to use the hashtags #sheisthreedotcom and #shefoundfreedom. Even if you haven’t found it yet, may you allow yourself this month to explore the possibility of freedom.
“She went to the water to revive her Soul.” ~Deb
I live on a barrier island in between the Banana River and the Indian River.
Seven minutes from my front door is the Atlantic Ocean.
I am surrounded by water.
Salty, brackish, calm, choppy, wavy.
I see water every single day when I leave my house.
I wish I had a water view from my bedroom, yet I can walk to the river in five minutes where the sunrises are amazing!
When I see that pinky-orange sky I leap out of bed and go to the water for a soothing start to my day.
Sometimes when I am feeling a bit frazzled and crusty, I drive straight to the beach and lay it all down; literally on the sandy beach at the water’s edge and allow the waves to wash over me..soothing my Soul. I don’t even bother to change clothes. I am instantly transformed and softened.
I go to the water for a refreshing swim where I frolic in the waves like a Mermaid. Leaping and laughing. Floating and drifting.
There are so many fancy toys for water play such surfboards, kayaks and kite sailing.
But for me, I don’t have a need for speed.
I go to the water to slow down.
To “get right.”
“She went to the water that called her home.” ~Jennifer
There was a time not all that long ago when going to the water meant walking a few blocks to the Aegean Sea. I could see it from the balcony of my apartment, that swath of deep blue to the east. It floated on the horizon beyond rooftops covered in solar panels and balconies shrouded in laundry hung out to dry. I never took the sea for granted, especially because I never knew just how long I would be living by it. Months turns into years. I had walked away from my career in the US and didn’t ever plan on returning, so I did my best to deal with the local problems. Being surrounded by corruption, crumbling buildings, jealousy, infidelity, fickleness, animal cruelty, and gossip were all part of the trade-off for living there, or so I thought.
I experienced some of my darkest moments in the blinding midday sun. I wore sunglasses constantly, but they couldn’t shield my eyes from the truth. It was art that saved me. My clearest, happiest moments on that island were spent behind a camera. Looking through the viewfinder enabled me to isolate bits of beauty on which to focus. I underwent my very own version of phototherapy. It wasn’t the exposure to sunlight or the vitamin D that made me feel better, it was the act of taking photographs. I began to develop a relationship with light. Part of that process was seeing the shadows in my midst. I finally chose to face them and move on rather than turn a blind eye any longer.
Photography brought me back to myself and back to the water I call home. It is neither turquoise nor cerulean nor cobalt. The water that called me home is the fresh water of ponds and lakes. As a child, I often rode my bike to a small pond down the street in search of ducks to feed and tadpoles to catch. Now things have come full circle. Surprising as it may be to some, I gave up the azure blue of faraway seas for the brown and green hues of domestic pond water. When I am feeling upset, confused, or disconnected, one of the places I go to is the dock. Sometimes I stare at the way the water sparkles in the sun. Sometimes I listen to the hum of dragonflies and the croaking of frogs. And then there are the occasions when I go to the water for a cathartic cry. I gladly trade the salty water of tears and seas and high tides for the sweet and soothing stillness of the pond.
“She went to the water to satiate her thirst.” ~Bella
It is the element that sustains life. A wilting plant, born from the earth, stands tall again when nourished with love and water.
A soul, dried from lack of care, bounces back with vigor when hydrated with the purest liquid known to man.
Before we existed, there was land and there was water.
I am thirsty. I have written articles listing reasons why I go to the water. I have written blog posts expressing how connected to the water I feel. But still, I am thirsty.
In these dry seasons, I forget things. My creativity vanishes. My plants suffer.
I have to remind myself daily to drink up. My energy channels feel clearer and my body becomes one with the flow of my day. I pick up a watering can and nurture my plant’s thirst. My head becomes less foggy. I am hydrated and in my lush green, forest-surrounded home. The roses are blooming because I sing to them and give them the shower they crave.
And like the roses, I come back to life when I allow my thirst to be satiated.
As the June days get longer and hotter, we shift into our summer rhythms. In one way or another, we each turn to the water.
We invite you to join us this month by going to the water in whatever way you feel called. From ponds to pools and from sprinklers to seashores, we encourage you to explore this concept.
How will you go to the water? Share your images with us on Instagram by tagging your self-portraits #sheisthreedotcom and #shewenttothewater so we can find one another.
We’ll be back on the 14th, 21st, and 28th with our quotes and the stories behind our photos. In the meantime, we’re looking forward to seeing you in the Si3 community pool on Instagram!
“She regained her strength one step at a time.” ~Deb
I got lazy.
I wasn’t showing up to the gym.
My springy step was losing its bounce.
My yoga mat was lonely.
I felt slow and sad and sluggish.
So I bought a fun pair of shoes.
And some colorful workout duds.
I renewed my membership at the gym.
I started walking at the neighborhood park…five. miles. every. damn. day.
One step at a time, one mile at a time, I am getting stronger.
I am standing taller.
I am lasting longer (giggle)
I am breathing deeper.
My legs are leaner.
My belly is flatter.
My back is firmer.
My heart is happier.
And that’s truly what matters.
My 57 year old body is still squishy and curvy.
My saggy skin encases some brittle bones.
But oh that heart…my happy heart!!!
That’s what really matters at the end of every single day.
“She regained her strength by listening.” ~Jennifer
Life doesn’t have be a struggle. I want to live mine motivated by bliss rather than fear. I want to feel ease rather than pressure; flow rather than resistance. I want to be strong in the softest of ways.
I’ve come to realize that I need to listen in order to fulfill my purpose. I need to tune out all of the external noise and keep following my inner compass. I need to take note of the sights and sounds along my path, for that path is unique to me, just as yours is unique to you.
Sometimes I lapse into old beliefs about scarcity. I worry that I have to act fast and push forward no matter what or else I’ll miss out. I still have days when I doubt my own rhythm because the rest of the world appears to be moving at an impossibly fast pace.
At the beginning of this month, my family’s schedule was especially full. Each day there were either appointments, home repairs, classes, injuries, or mishaps that made accomplishing the household basics a challenge. I couldn’t keep up. I felt tired and uninspired. I withdrew from the online world and focused on my home life.
Just as I was wondering how on Earth to meet deadlines and squeeze in time for creative projects, I came upon the perfect message. We had just pulled into the driveway at my mother-in-law’s house. While unloading the car, wrangling little ones, and exchanging kisses in the front yard, I saw two small black and white feathers right there on the ground in front of me. Somehow, I was the only one to notice them. I carefully picked them up and took them home with me that night.
Although I’ve never seen woodpecker feathers before, that is what I believe them to be. How appropriate that I would find feathers from a bird that pecks so distinctively and so rhythmically. They reminded me to keep listening to my own rhythm and trusting what I hear. I feel strong again, and all I did was lift those two tiny feathers. It was no struggle at all.
“She regained her strength by breathing in the scent of life.” ~Bella
She watched the forest behind her home come back to life.
Lush green blossomed everywhere.
She felt like anything was possible.
She walked barefoot in the silky grass among the dandelions.
“What if I sit down right here and breathe in the scent of new life?”
It was a thought that she acted upon.
She doesn’t always like to be outside, but on this day she paid attention to the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.
It beckoned her forward, called her to sit and get rooted.
So she did.
She picked a dandelion and breathed in its earthy scent.
Her spirit soared and her heart grew.
Her joy muscles strengthened and her worries were carried away by the wind.
She felt connected to the earth, to her piece of land, and to herself.
As flowers bloom and temperatures rise, we’re spending more time outdoors. By reconnecting to nature, we’re reconnecting to ourselves and regaining our strength…the strength we knew we had in us.
Please join us this month as we explore and discover ways of getting our strength back. How are you regaining your strength? We’d love to see. Be sure to tag your self-portraits #sheisthreedotcom #sheregainedherstrength on Instagram so we can follow one another’s journeys.
As always, we’ll be back here on the 14th, 21st, and 28th to share our stories with you.
Our wish for you this month is that you regain the strength you knew you had in you all along…
“She replenished herself and quenched her thirsty soul.” ~Deb
re-plen-ish: fill up again. restore to the former level or condition.
Once a month I gather beautiful glass jars and bottles of clean water to bathe in the Full Moon light.
I surround the jars with crystal quartz for extra charge.
I sip my sacred Moon Water for the next several days with the belief that my body and soul are being replenished, nourished and hydrated with new energy.
You see, I don’t drink nearly enough water. I sip coffee in the mornings and wine all day. Never soda. Sometimes fresh squeezed juice. An occasional cocktail or craft whiskey on the rocks. Hot tea before bed.
Time for a cool change.
It has been 14 days since I had an alcoholic drink.
I feel light as a feather, and my pocket book seems fatter!
I love change. This is a good one. A new start to “restore to the former level” of my own health. I am back in the gym. I am swimming in the ocean again. I walk five miles every day.
And I am drinking more water than I have pretty vessels for!!
I am not on some sort of crash cleanse…YET! I already eat clean and mindfully.
I am just always shaking things up a bit and this one feels right.
We here at She is Three shoot self-portraits each month to help tell our story. I was past the deadline and it was raining, so I scurried into the backyard with my tripod and remote timer. Standing under the palm tree, holding the water bottle in one hand…setting up my position…dropping the remote onto the grass…
1…2…3…SHOOT!! Reaching down to pick up my remote to find it in a small pile of raccoon poop!!