Category Archives: Is she aware of

Is she aware of ~ Deb

aware of

 

“Is she aware of what she holds in her hands?” ~Deb

 

Two months ago I was {rapidly and mindlessly} chopping carrots.
I sliced off the tip of my finger.
The trip to the ER resulted in no stitches, no grafts, no Tequila.
Oh wait…if only Tequila had been offered, because I am allergic to all pain medications, but not Tequila!

I am still experiencing pain like never before.
I am limited and compromised when I try to type this story.
Threading a needle, hanging clothes on the line and opening a bottle of wine cause me to pause.
I rely on other body parts to assist what once was a natural, mundane, daily movement.
The simple act of changing my camera settings to make this photo was interesting.
Yesterday was the first day I could actually wash my hair with all ten fingers.
It. Felt. So. Good.

I am sharing this photo and backstory with you to demonstrate how important our hands are.
They are our tools. They are our way to communicate, to create.
We cradle our children and squeeze our lover.
We paint the canvas, we play the piano, we knead the dough, we carve the stone, we bend the wire, we type the story, we draw the line, we massage the flesh, we mend the wound.

I have learned to SLOW DOWN.
I am reminded to be in the present moment.

Carrots get chopped. Fingers do not. And Tequila can be enjoyed.

 

Backstory : I created my photo this month to emphasize the importance of my hands.
I dressed in black against a black backdrop. Remember to focus on your hands.

And if you want to see more of my “handy” photos, join me over here.

 

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Is she aware of ~ Jennifer

Is she aware of what she is holding on to?

 

“Is she aware of what she is holding on to?” ~Jennifer

 

I hold on to too much. There are things both real and imagined, visible and invisible, physical and emotional that I have yet to release. Some are fears. Some are memories of specific events, while others are reminders that I’m afraid to let go of. I have piles of drawings and paintings my daughter has made, each special in its own way. I struggle with which ones to keep and which ones to recycle. It’s irrational of me, but somehow throwing away even the smallest of her offerings feels like I’m throwing away a piece of her and a piece of my heart. These early years with my children are fleeting and I don’t want to forget any of it (except the tantrums and the lack of sleep).

There are videos on my phone that I can’t bear to part with: the first time my daughter walked in the grass, my son chuckling wildly from tickles, my husband spontaneously dancing in the living room to Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On.” I’ve gotten pretty good at donating gifts that don’t bring me joy, trusting that they will light up someone else’s world somehow.  I held on to the Santa Claus nightshirt I gave my mom, though…the one that says “Believe” on it. I couldn’t put that one in the donation bin back when we sorted through her belongings. It reminds me of her youthful sense of wonder. And in a bag on the closet shelf sits the beautiful stuffed unicorn she bought for me when I was in second grade. I named it Uranus. (I giggle now, but I was seven years old at the time, and intent on giving it a name that started with a “u” like unicorn.) It’s only an inanimate object, yet I haven’t liberated it yet.  Somehow I still equate that unicorn with my childhood innocence.

My husband always gently reminds me that I can let go; that right now is what matters. Intellectually, I know there’s no need to use up space saving material items. I’m gripping the past so tightly that the present could slip away. I’ve been wasting my energy.  I know I don’t want to keep anything that is holding me back or robbing anyone of happiness, so I’m sorting through what is true and what is only fear.  I’m working to release ideas I have of myself, like the ones that say my nose is too big and my shoulders are too broad. I’m trying to gently embrace reality rather than hold on to the fantasy of what once was or what might have been. My desire is simple yet challenging:  I want to cradle the exquisiteness of today in my hands, and then lovingly set it free.

 

Are you holding on to too much also?  What do you want to let go of?  If you’re ready to give voice to it, please leave me a comment below.  There is such healing in sharing…

 

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Is she aware of ~Bella

IS SHE AWARE OF

 

“Is she aware of the pathway home?” ~Bella

 

The place I call home has changed drastically over the last five years. Flood waters rose and receded. Families uprooted and left. The homes left over are remnants, shells of what used to be. But they still have stories to tell.

I wonder what our house will look like if we ever leave. Will an outsider look upon it and see the memories imprinted on its walls, its exterior, the patches of grass? Will I ever truly feel at home if I’m not in this house?

What I know is that home is the temple, home is the soul. Wherever I go, I am already home. There is a pathway home. I reside there. I am there.

 

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Is she aware of…

Si3April2016Web

In this busy world we need to be aware of so many things at any given moment. Our minds focus on schedules and duties and deadlines. We tend to pay attention to matters that require our immediate attention, thereby overlooking some of life’s deeper messages. And so this month, we are examining our own awareness.  We are looking again.  We are noticing subtleties as well as the seemingly obvious.

 
Come along with us throughout April as we work with the prompt “Is she aware of…?”  Visit us here for our quotes and the stories behind our photos on the 14th, 21st, and 28th of the month.  Post your quotes and your self-portraits on Instagram using the hashtags #sheisthreedotcom #issheawareof so we can find each other.  In the meantime, here’s a video from us to you…

 

 

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