A few days ago, I decided that I would come back the U.S. shortly after the end of my upcoming Retreat to the South of France. I would not go to Paris, but instead return to my work, and to my older furry girl.
This morning, I decided to turn down Airbnb guests for this evening. Tonight is my son's last night here and I want privacy, I want the house to ourselves.
Now, just a year before, the possibility of skipping even one day in Paris, would have been completely out of the question. I was starved for my childhood home, for its smells, sights, for all of it. I would have done just about anything to spend an hour walking the paved streets.
A decade ago, letting go of a night of rental income is something which I would never have done. Every penny counted dearly and my comfort or desire for privacy was only a very small portion of any income making decision.
I was grabby. Grabby for Paris, and grabby for pennies. There was a very good reason for both of these bouts of grabbiness. One of them was a bit of PTSD, and one of them was survival of my family. Nothing to sneeze at.
The loveliness, this morning, comes in noticing that I am no longer grabby for either.
Paris is my love and Paris is no longer part of an un-reacheable planet within my mind. I was in Paris a few months ago, and I will be again soon. It lives in my heart, and I know inside of me, that at any given time, I can hop on a plane and be there. This was not the case for a long, long time. And my work needs me, as does my furry girl.
Money is important and I am full of respect for its magic dance. I partner with its ebbs and flows, yet I no longer need to grab at it, and tonight, privacy in our home is the priority.
Grabbiness. Grabbiness because we are afraid. Afraid of not enough.... something. Time, money, love, health, friends, food. Grabbiness because something inside of us, at some point in time, agreed that the commodity was scarce and that without it, we could die - in one way or another (a broken heart is a small death, too). So we grabbed. And we compromised. And we settled. And we tolerated.
This morning, I am celebrating the choice of saying "no," the freedom of not having to grab.
It feels darn good.
I invite you to look at the places where you no longer need to grab, where you can take a deep breath and remind yourself that it's okay, there is plenty.
And I wish you a lovely day of freedom and plentifulness.
Yesterday was a deeply fun day. I know that Deep and Fun don't always dance together, but for me yesterday, they did.
Anacortes is our heart home, there is no doubt. One of our heart homes, at least. While we all move around the planet quite a bit lately, Anacortes is the place where we are the most likely to all end up together, most likely in the kitchen.
Yesterday was such a day, with the added deliciousness of more loved ones joining in, including my kids' grandma, with whom I had not spent much time in the last 16 years.
There was peach pie making (gluten free and gluten filled), lavender drying, stories telling, corn roasting, nail painting, dogs running around, and more.
Barely a week after I signed on the dotted line, making this house officially my home (that's a whole story really worth telling, once I am able to get it from my heart to the keyboard), there we were all, celebrating, baking, eating.
All three of my kids in one place for the day.
Pies out of the oven, corn on the table, more food all over the place, we enjoyed the fruits of our work during a truly LOVEly dinner.
I was in heaven and I could have sat there a week or two. I tried to press the slow motion button, and for a while, it almost worked.
But life keeps on moving, and pretty soon the pace picked up again and it was time to clear the table.
This is when I heard them. For the first time in several years. Three words which used to be as much part of dinner as a shaker of salt. Three words that have a very particular tone to them, three words which used to make me a bit on edge, but suddenly last night tasted better than Ben & Jerry's ice cream:
"Mom.... I setttttttttt!"
Read: Mom .... I set the table and I should not be made to clear it.
Read: Someone else should clear the table.
This from the lips of a 24 year old who looked just as giddily surprised as I was to hear these words jump out of her mouth.
Yesterday, was a very happy day.
Find Your Passion.
Follow Your Bliss.
Get Lit Up!
Such encouraging words, such supportive spirit. And, a bit of pressure, too.
What if we don't know what our passion is? What if we have no idea what our bliss looks like? Then what? Do we crawl back in bed and wait for them to show up? Do we pretend that we know? Or do we pretend that we don't care?
In this short podcast, I propose another way. The "Following the Pebbles" way.
Let me know what you think, and hey... be good to you, ok?
You can follow me @LauraLavigne, visit with me on Facebook, and if you enjoyed this episode, please tell your friends, subscribe to the show on iTunes and leave a review!
SCARED OF THE SACRED