Living a Life that Is Yours Alone (and not for show)
Hello Dear Ones!
First off, thank you so much for your patience as I have navigated illnesses, snowstorms and winter travel. It’s been too long without writing. For me, and maybe for you too!
This will likely be my last writing posted through the channels I have used in the past. As of next week, I plan to be on a new platform called Substack. This platform offers choices of free reading and paid subscribership. You can choose what works best for you, and I’ll love you for whatever choice you make.
Next week I will place an invitation to Substack on my website. I’ll make it as clear and seamless as I can. You can always email me with any questions, of course.
Okay so off we go into the writing!
Living a life that is yours alone (and not for show). This has been circling around in my mind for weeks and months, and if I am honest, for decades.
Years ago, in my time of being an Alaskan Woman, I owned a sweet old house with a little back yard. The yard was packed with garden boxes, and these were packed with growing food. There were two clotheslines accessed by the back door, and they hung out over the gardens. I remember the years of cloth diapers, these beautiful colorful symbols of a life I loved, blowing in the breeze over my beloved garden. I remember when my baby and then toddler lived blissful moments in the sunshine of our yard, in our garden, feet bare, hands in the earth. Delighting in all that I delighted in.
Before motherhood, in the earlier years of this home, I would delight in the sun. The back steps baked with heat when the sun was high and clear. The view of the mountains was profound. And as always, the clothes on the line, and the garden….
Back then, my friends were off climbing tall mountains, back-country skiing, taking off on epic kayaking and sailing and fishing adventures. And I was home savoring the light off of the ocean, the wind, the soil of my little backyard haven. I was home lovingly washing the curves of the beloved clawfoot tub in my bathroom (a tub that had a connected and beautiful history… and that held my body as I rested and returned to myself again and again through baths). I’d say no to plans for big adventures in the wilderness. Instead, I was home, preparing beautiful meals while listening to jazz. I was home, sipping coffee in the sunlight in a tucked away corner of my yard, book in hand. I was home, washing dishes with the magical glacial water that ran off our mountains and icefields, and that came to us through regular-old municipal pipes.
I remember those years so clearly. And, I was so confused by what I savored, as compared to what my friends chose. Why was I adamantly and lovingly so connected to my little home haven, to the way sunlight kissed the wet dishes I washed in my kitchen? Why did I savor this rather than epic outdoor adventures in the wilderness? I judged myself harshly back then. I thought my orientation to my home made me an outcast. I really did. None of it really fit into the Facebook Feed that was part of the fabric of our lives back then. None of it made sense to anyone else. There was nothing for show. Nothing to show for it, or perhaps nothing that I was willing to show of it. It was a deeply personal communion with all that keeps me grounded, whole, nourished and happy.
Sunlight, fresh water, wind, soil and plants, quiet. These are the deep nourishment that I have always sought out and arranged my life around. As a highly sensitive and empathic woman, these nutrients are essential to my wholeness.
Now, living a life in the mountains of Western Massachusetts, I am worlds away from that beloved Alaskan home (although it always lives in my heart). Here, I have set up a new home, a new life, and a daily rhythm that suits me. It contains the water, sunlight, wind, clotheslines… and now wood fires and bigger gardens. I draw hearts on everything around me (to wrap everything in my love, gratitude, reverence). And. Still. It is not for show. The ways I tend myself make deep sense to me. They are grounded, curated, designed to directly support me in being able to show up for myself, for the people I love and serve.
I have an ongoing conversation with a beloved friend. We send video messages to each other, keeping up with the stories of our lives. Often, we talk about our gardens, our harvests, and how we create delicious meals from these. Somewhere in these conversations I got clear: The way I live my life is mine alone. How I structure my days and weeks and months… it’s all about what serves me. It’s about what nourishes, guides, organizes and supports me. Ultimately, it is all based in my love of myself, my love and wonder in the natural world, my love of my family, my love of my work and my community.
And none of it is for show. This life is not lived in order to show off on Facebook or Instagram. This life of mine is not created so that it makes sense to anyone else. This life is designed uniquely for me, by me, and I stand by it. My every breath and action is laced in love and reverence. For everything.
Perhaps some people find themselves in the same reverence while heli-skiing, while hiking out to remote points, while out on open water, or while in large groups of people. Great! What matters is that we seek out and find our ways to be in awe, reverence and love for our lives, for others, and for the life around us.
At this point in my life, I can say that I have never before loved myself so much. I have never before loved my life so deeply. I have never before felt so connected to the ALL of everything around me. And I think in large part this is because I have done myself the honor of listening to what nourishes and invites me, creating a lifestyle and daily/weekly rhythm that nourishes me.
The world around me is fresh with innumerable points of wonder. I live in awareness of this. And these points of wonder restore me moment by moment.
(And is it perfect? Nope. I have a dark kitchen with a deep and dark sink. The interplay of sunlight on water as I handwash dishes, which is a longtime potent medicine for me, doesn’t exist in my kitchen. Here’s another: I am a sun-worshipper, and I live surrounded by the shadows of trees. No long view into sunshine or mountains. Bummer. But as I recognize the absence of these important nutrients, I am noting them as necessary in my next home.)
Okay that feels like enough about me. I’m turning this to you: Whether or not my life picture makes any sense to you (and again, it’s not meant to), can you feel a tugging in the fabric of YOUR life? What are the features of your life that nourish you? If they make no sense to anyone else, then this might mean they are non-negotiable in your life*. They are the kind of nourishment that MUST exist for you. What are these things that mean so much to you? Can you boil it all down to a list of the essential nutrients/medicines in your life? Which aspects of life nourish and return you to yourself in all your wholeness?
If I could, I would write you a prescription to PURSUE THESE BECAUSE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS UPON THEM. I’m not kidding. This is serious business. Your wholeness and happiness is your very first priority. Period. Write yourself a little list, a love-letter, a post-it on the fridge. Create art or write a poem. Write yourself a prescription and sign it, maybe even with a great big heart. Do whatever it takes to make these essential life nutrients even more central to your life.
Which ones are already installed in your life? How can you bring more of them into your life with regularity? How can they be embedded in your daily rhythm/flow of life? And which of these don’t exist at all? What kinds of absence-of-nourishment do you notice (meaning, what is missing)? Make note, and think about how you might bring these into your life. What is needed to do so?
I’m going to reiterate here: It seems that the less these make sense to others, perhaps the more essential they are for you.
And when others don’t understand why you need some particular life experience (like sun-kissed wet dishes, or little hearts written on everything), here’s what I suggest:
Giggle. Smile. And take this as the best possible feedback. No one gets it. Yay! This means you’re doing it right! Keep going!
As always, please tell me how this lands. What is your version of sun-drenched coffee time with a book? What is your version of colorful diapers drying on a line over a garden? I can’t wait to hear!
(* and of course, I am meaning life experiences that promote love, kindness, wholeness and peace. I am of course not meaning life experiences that in any way create harm to others or yourself. Right?! Just to be clear.)
In deep gratitude for everything in this sweet life,
Rebecca
* Disclaimer: This likely goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: Everything I write is for educational purposes only. Nothing I write or share can be deemed diagnostic or medical advice. Nothing I write or share can replace your own healthcare providers or your own internal knowing and wisdom. Period. Please seek tailored medical care and advice via your skilled healthcare team whenever you need it.
