Month: December 2019

Wishing You an Intentional New Year

/ Stacie / 2 Comments

Dear friends,

As the darkest day of the year approaches, I find myself looking forward to a new year filled with light and love.   It’s so exciting to face a blank slate of 365 days.  365 new chances.  365 blank pages for me to intentionally live and write.  But I do wonder, how will I choose to live this next year?

I look back at the year that is coming to a close and I think about how I lived the past 365 days.  I wonder if I used this year wisely.  Did I make the most of each day?  Was I helpful?  Was I kind?  Did I make a difference?  Did I live the year with intention?

Because let’s face it…some days, some years, well they can just seem less intentional than others.  Begun without a clear direction of where we’re headed.  And when we head into the unknown without a thought of intention, we typically find ourselves lost somewhere down the road.  For better or worse.

I’ve never been a huge fan of resolutions but I do love the idea of living with intention.

The root word of resolution is resolve, which, by definition, means to decide firmly on a course of action. On the other hand, intend, by definition, means to design something for a particular purpose.

I delight in that thought…to design something for a particular purpose.  It sounds poetic and lofty without the weight of a firm decision.  My mindset morphs from something to struggle beneath to something to strive for just by changing a word.

When we choose to live with intention, we open up a whole new world to ourselves.  No longer do we get to the end of our days wondering where those 24 hours went or look back at the month and rack our brains wondering what we did this month.  When we live with intention, we live in this moment, with purpose.  And living with intention, at its simplest, is being an active participant in our own lives.

It’s about this moment right now and how this moment will set the path for our future days.  While the past tends to influence us, it doesn’t dictate a path for us, so we don’t waste time wallowing.  We are only promised this moment right now and when we live it with intention, that intention helps us stay the path that we so desperately want our lives to follow.   Living intentionally isn’t the same as carpe diem.  Carpe diem is a Latin phrase meaning seize the day, but the meaning is meant to apply to the present only; to not be concerned about the future, whereas living with intention is living with a purpose.  Living with a purpose implies that it isn’t just about the here and now, but it’s about purpose for all things yet to come.  All 365 days yet unlived.

For us, 2019 was a year of intention.  It was 365 days of living with purpose.

365 days full of so many extra-ordinary moments.  Birthdays celebrated.  Teeth lost.  Recitals sung, played and danced.  Stories shared.  Moments lived.

Joseph joined Katie in the world of dance.  Dancing truly brings joy to their hearts and I delight in watching them share the experience together.  Joseph spent a lot of time writing and drawing and dreaming of the day he will become President.  William spent his days swinging his tennis racket and soaking up all the time he could get on the court, stopping only occasionally to create something delicious in the kitchen.  Andrew spent the year still happily marching to the beat of his own drum, some days creating beauty out of clay, other days dreaming up a world of dragons inside his mind.  Katie spent the year conquering her world one determined step at a time, mastering rollerblading, taking off in reading and delighting in finally being able to sing “All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth” and actually meaning it.

The children and I continued to bask in our educational journey, relishing each book we read, joyfully greeting each bit of nature we met and basking in the various art forms that fed our souls.  We spent many hours soaking up the richness and serenity of the Gulf and many more hours walking trails, discovering flora and fauna we had not yet met (this year we managed to encounter two rattlesnakes along our journeys).  Dax continued to make this amazing life of ours possible through his dedication and hard work with Daxsells, his realty and management company.  On my own journey, I finished my herbal studies through Sage Mountain Herbal Center, started a small herbal consulting business and enrolled myself in the East West School of Planetary Herbology.

In February, we camped beneath the stars where the Hill Country meets West Texas and marveled at the beauty that Texas holds.  In March, we joined my parents in the woods (and again in October and again for Thanksgiving)…us in a tent, Mom and Dad in their 5th wheel.  In June, Dax and I traveled, sans kids, to Fredericksburg and basked in the glory of being alone together and remembering why we fell in love so many years ago.  In September, we traveled, with kids, to California to stand in awe at the base of the Redwoods, climb a volcano and peek into the tidepools of the Pacific Ocean.  All of those journeys gave us a moment to press the reset button.  To remember that this life is precious.

Soon it will be January 1st.  I don’t want 2020 to be the year remembered for the shows I watched or the Facebook feed I scrolled through.  I don’t want to wake up this time next year and wonder where my 365 opportunities disappeared to.  I want this year to be remembered for the intentional moments.  The moments I lived with purpose.  So here’s my wish for you…may you set aside the New Year’s resolutions, may you look around you and delight in the present and may you choose to live these next 365 days with intention. 

Blessings to you and yours from all of us,

Daxson, Stacie, Joey (12), William (10), Andrew (8) and Katie (6)

December Daybook

/ Stacie / 1 Comment

Outside my window…it’s cold.  It’s a temporary coldness, though…by Friday, we’ll be back up to 80.  One day we’re bundled up, the next we’re back in shorts and ready for the beach.  Oh the joy of the constant flux in temperature in South Texas.

I am remembering…Christmas 3 years ago.

Mom had just returned from a long, unplanned stay at the hospital, we were dealing with water issues in our city (again) and my children were miniature versions of their current selves.  I’m still incredibly grateful for Mom’s recovery.  I’m in awe of how quickly my children have grown.  And I’m still giggling over this note left for Santa…

I am thankful for…recitals and performances that allow these budding musicians to shine.  In the past month, the children played for the local Music Club, performed in the hymn festival (and all earned gold stars) and joyfully performed Christmas carols (mostly) for family (and friends) at the Christmas recital.

I am watching…children grow.  Nature unfold.  Life through others’ eyes.  I am learning to be still.

I am wondering…how some people seriously make it look so easy.

I am hoping…if you’re local, you’ll join me next week at the Oso Preserve where I will attempt to squeeze a million amazing facts about local medicinal herbs into a one hour presentation. 

I am pondering…the upcoming Winter Solstice.

I am laughing…at this ridiculously accurate depiction of how my kids felt about their gingerbread houses.

I am planting…nothing new right now.  Just keeping the medicinal herbs I planted in the summer alive and reaping the benefits of having medicine at my fingertips in my own backyard.

I am reflecting…on this quote from Charlotte Mason…”We all have need to be trained to see, and to have our eyes opened before we can take in the joy that is meant for us in this beautiful life.”

​

Around the house…beautiful decorations, twinkling lights and Advent stories to fill our souls.

I am wearing…a fluffy robe.  Because it’s actually cold enough today for one.

We are preparing for…a visit from Granny, a whole bunch of Nutcracker madness, and a Savior to be born on Christmas Day.

Someday I am going to miss…this.

I am reading…The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton for book club and a whole lot of books about Chinese medicine for my herbal studies.

One of my favorite things…the puppies over at The Puppy House.

A peek into my day…

Please visit The Simple Woman’s Daybook for more daybook entries.

Chihuahua Syndrome

/ Stacie / 3 Comments

**This is pulled from the dusty archives (circa 2017)…kind of a second chance for old words…so if it looks familiar, it’s because it is.  Here’s hoping that it inspires you to live a little richer, breathe a little deeper, and appreciate a little more fully.**

You know that whole idea that little dogs that hang out with big dogs think they’re big dogs because they look at the other dogs and just assume they’re the same size?  We call that the Chihuahua Syndrome over here.  And Katie has it.

She hangs out with the boys all week long and while (luckily!) she doesn’t think she’s a boy, she does think she’s much bigger and much more capable than she is.  Case in point:  A few months ago the boys climbed up on top of the air conditioning unit and were jumping off with wild abandon.  Katie followed, thinking she was quite capable of the same dangerous feat and ended up spraining her wrist in the process.

Sometimes it works to her benefit.  She learned to swim at two, well and without fear, because her 4, 6 and 8 year old brothers were doing it.  She “does” school and eagerly “writes” letters alongside the boys.  She’s quite capable of self-care, never realizing that she’s got a two year gap between herself and the next brother.  She demands equality, telling us that she can stay up as late as the boys, she can go on that ride at the fun park.  Doggone it, she can DO whatever the boys can do.  And it’s not about gender to her.  It’s about a fuzzy view of self.

She looks at them as if it’s a mirror that reflects her while completely avoiding the fact that she is, in essence, nothing like them.  She’s her own unique little being and she’s not meant to live her life as a reflection of someone else.

One day recently we were out bike riding and I was explaining to William about Katie and her chihuahua syndrome and, while the essence of the topic completely escaped Katie’s thoughts, it did manage to kick her imagination into gear and she said to me, “I’m the baby chihuahua and you’re the mama chihuahua.”  After which she completely dissolved in a fit of giggles and “arfs.”

But her casual thought got me thinking.  “…you’re the mama chihuahua.”

It’s true.  So true.

I look at other moms and I treat them as a reflection of me and I begin to think that I must do what they do because, after all, I need to keep up with the big dogs.  I click from Pinterest project to Pinterest project and scan beautiful blogs with beautiful stories and I actually allow myself to see me reflected in them.  I meet a mom at playgroup and I see how calm and together she is and I think that’s what I should look like.  I gather with friends and I am sure that their ideas are the answer to everything wrong in my life and I must do things just as they do.  I allow myself to actually think that I must do whatever they do because, doggone it, even if it kills me, I must keep up with them.

I see the perfect cupcakes, the clean house, the adorably dressed children, the impeccable yard and I just keep trying to keep up.

But this is wrong.  All wrong.

Because I am bound to fall and sprain my wrist if I continue to try to keep up with the big dogs.

How can I possibly read that beautiful post that reflects the journey of that family and allow myself to think that perhaps my journey is meant to look just like that?  How can I see those Pinterest projects and think that doing something like that defines me as a mom?  How can I continue to fall into the comparison trap knowing that I’ll always find myself lacking?  How can I keep trying my best to be a big dog when I’m really just a little dog with my own little puppies?

I can try and try all I want but I’m NOT that mom.  I’m me.

See my little family over here.  We’re completely different than that family over there.  Our house looks different.  Our schooling looks different.  Our meals look different.  Our conversations sound different.  Our journey is different.

I am my own unique little being and I’m not meant to live my life as a reflection of someone else.