Sunshine Fables: A Quick Note

One of my clients has had a terribly rough run of it as of late. His mother has been at her wits end and frankly on some days so have I. But what I find really special is that even though he has presented as a lot of trouble, there is so much love for him from everyone that works on him. No one is giving up on him when it would be so much easier to do so. Everyone keeps fighting for him and believing in him. He deserves that. We should fight for each other- fight to let one another know that we are loved and deserve that love. Just as he does.

Yesterday his mother let me know he had a good day at school. The first one that he has had in months. I wrote to her and said,

"Hold on to that. Soon enough the good days will outnumber the bad ones."

I encourage any of y'all going through hard times to hold on to the good moments, the good days. They too soon will outnumber the rough ones. And to remember to fight for yourself and the others in your lives.

Sunshine Fables: The Freedom Within

For the first time I allowed myself to let go wholly in dance class. I focused not on how I looked, but how each movement felt. And I thought, "Shit, this is what really living is. Breathing in each joyous breath and allowing yourself to be free within your own skin. To allow yourself to move in grace free of everyone's judgement including your own. This is living".

This is street art located in Roxbury. It is a part of an abandoned lot near an elementary school. I love the whole mural, but I especially love this part of the piece. I love the look of peace yet sheer fierceness on her face. Maybe in reality I didn't look like this, but I felt like this in some moments. In other moments I felt like the muppet  Grover. That was a nice lovely feeling too. No matter what I looked like I felt so free. 

Sometimes it is amazing to just be conscious of each breathe you take. To feel how amazing it is to simply be living and existing. As I walked today I was struck with a sudden burst of joy that stemmed from nothing except a happiness for living. What is it about the sun that makes it so much easier to feel hope I wonder? As the cold air brought a flush to my cheeks and I stared up at the bright sun, I felt a sense of awe. These are the moments I live for. Boo boop de doop.

Akin to Ava: New Friends

Wow. These photos are kinda old actually. They are from a jaunt to Blue Hills back at the tail end of December. It was a warmer and more humid day for the Winter month and the recent snow and ice was melting in its warmth. I loved the juxtaposition of the melting ice and the autumn like foliage.

 This is Millie. She reminds me of a baby Ava. I am just so into lichen. When I went off trail I stumbled onto this little tree and probably spent five million years taking pictures.

I love when I stumble on little holes in trees. They makes me think of little hidden treasure havens. Sometimes, for some little critter they just might be.

This was the 'treasure' I found. Ok, so it is essentially some ice, wet leaves, and other assorted bramble. But in my mind at the time it was a lot more magical for sure.

Old time friend of The Story Girl. This is Joseph for his fallen roots are of many colors.

 Ughh....I like this picture, but it doesn't even begin to capture the hazy wonderful feeling I felt when I walked into this little off trail clearing.

 Magic!

"If your eyes are opened, you'll see the things worth seeing"

-Rumi 

Paved Enchantment: Sylvie and the Snow

A few times a week I walk a friend's dog. She is a black lab and just about the best little dog pal a person can have. Sylvette LOVES snow. She loves sniffing it. She loves walking in it. She loves it so much that she has a happy dance when she plays in it. It looks a lot like when Snoopy dances. It is one of the most precious things I have ever seen. I am truly considering developing my own signature happy dance due to her influence.

I walk Syvlie in Brookline and right by the dog park we visit there is a sanctuary called Hall's Pond. Hall's Pond is one of two natural ponds in Brookline. The sanctuary contains the pond, wetlands, a garden, and a small trail. Tons of birds and little critters inhabit this plot of land. Sylvie and I have never been inside the gates of this sanctuary due to Sylvie being a dog and thus not being invited (critter protection you see). We walk around it a lot though and I think it is so amazing that nestled in the city is this little gem. There are a lot of little pieces of land like this scattered around Boston actually. Sadly not a lot of people know that our urban jungle has some of nature's wonderful secrets.

A secret to no Bostonian at the moment though is that we are currently experiencing a consistent bout of predicted snow. On Monday there was a bit of snowfall as the prelude of bigger things to come. Knowing how much Sylvie loves the snow, I was super stoked to take her out. As we walked around the dog park I stopped near the pond and took the photos below. One of these days I will venture inside the gates, but for now the view from just outside and with such sweet company will do.

I should note that like Sylvie I also am loving the snow. As a Southerner I am not super thrilled with the cold part of it; however the snow creates this misty texture to the sky and lighting. Every shot taken with Sparrow makes me think of a watercolor painting. Being outside is like living in an enchanted picture full of promise and hope. My hope is for daffodils and Spring. I only enjoy the snow so much after all.

While I wait for the cheerful yellow orbs that trumpet the coming of Spring though, I will work on my own happy dance. Maybe you could work on yours too. Enjoy living with abandon. Hope for things while enjoying the present. Hope is after all one of the most beautiful things we can possess. Stay warm!

Sunshine Fables: Thank God for Elvis

I have always wanted to be a dancer. I suppose a lot of people could say that. I never wanted to be a professional ballerina or anything like that though. I just wanted to always be dancing. Some people, when you really watch them you see, are ALWAYS dancing. When they step onto the subway- they are dancing. When they reach for their favorite coffee mug on that just a little too high shelf- they are dancing. When they are in repose, sitting, laying on the sofa- they are dancing. I don't know that I have words to explain it much better than that. Perhaps you are smiling as you read this and know exactly what I mean. My clumsy attempt to explain it is essentially the opposite of dancing. So perhaps what I mean when I say they're are always dancing, is that they are at ease. They are comfy in their own body, within their own skin, and have a sense of freedom. And that freedom gives them a joy and to me that joy is like dancing. Every movement is a marker of freedom, every movement unintentionally graceful.

I want to be a dancer. Sometimes, every once in a while, I am a dancer. I used to go to this thing called Uhuru Afrika and there I was a dancer. The music, the community, the setting inspired me and I was free. I was free and at ease and I danced. I danced for hours. I danced alone. I danced with others and I was happy. But that was only once a month and now it is even less.

This year I decided is going to be my year to be a dancer all through life. My goal is to take at least three dance classes a month. I don't think my definition of being a dancer requires that I become a formal dancer of one specific genre; however here is the thing- I don't like doing things I am not especially great at. I hated math in school and found every feasible way to avoid it (which really isn't feasible in a grownup world, but I thought for sure after college I could finally escape it. There is NO escape from math I have found). I am terrible at origami. Some friends and I were building this paper bird for a friend and I had to be emotionally dragged through the process because the paper wouldn't fold the way I needed it to and I got so gosh darn mad. It makes me mad now even thinking about it- I mean look at that run on sentence. That is a rage run on sentence! Ughh. So I am not a good dance class student either and I have done many a one off class and then never returned. My brain slows down in dance class and it's like math and paper folding all in one and I get awkward like I used to whenever Dan the Banana Man (true name. Reference Lavender) came near me. I tense up and something goes wonky with my vision and it is a mess. I went to a dance class with a friend once and at the end of the class she just kinda looked at me confused. My whole being changed in class. I wasn't assured. I wasn't confident. I was a mess and it was like I was a whole new person to her.

I think a lot of us fall apart a bit when we are challenged to do things that don't come easily. A relationship isn't easy? How often do we just walk away? A job gets too challenging? How often do we just cut our losses? For me, dancing isn't just that it is hard for me to follow the steps- it is hard for me to relax. I went to a class Monday. I tried so hard. I thought at least at the stretching parts my yoga training would be beneficial, but I was quickly informed I was not relaxing my neck enough. That came into play again as I tried a transition move. I thought I was achieving grace, but when I looked in the mirror I looked mildly constipated. My one good moment was when the teacher asked who was singing the song we were dancing too. Ever the student, I dutifully replied Elvis. Thank God for Elvis. My teacher smiled at me for the first time and the ease I felt in academic situations momentarily kicked in. At the end of class she asked to see me. "It is charming," she said. "You think you are so relaxed, but you are not relaxed at all." Very similar to something my chiropractor said to me a few months ago...

So I am going to keep dancing and going to classes. I am going to keep putting myself in uncomfortable positions because I think that it is through those uncomfortable moments that I will find my freedom, my joy. Sometimes you have to allow yourself to do things you are not good at and allow your best attempt to be ok. You have to allow yourself to not be perfect and just relax. You let your body and mind be at ease and you just let your soul dance. To me that is inner beauty (and hopefully maybe even a beautiful dance routine at some point :) ).

Akin to Ava- Glitter on the Highway

It is bitterly cold. As I walked home with my hat sadly perched atop my head as it was heavy with wetness and my boots soaked through to my equally wet socks, I couldn't help but to stop and admire the falling snow in the street lamps. The snow has an almost glittery quality. For some reason it seems more pure than any other snow I have ever seen. There is something about fresh snow on a fresh new year. It seems transformative and oddly hopeful. It bathes everything in a sense of newness.

As beautiful as it is, I was so pleased to walk into my home and watch it drift from the comfort of my window. I often feel as if the best view is from my own window. There is a comfy old pine, playful cats, and so many different colored birds. It is utterly charming and every morning when I open my blind and stare out I feel moved. How fortunate am I to have such a nice view?

I have found another who feels similarly to myself and I thought I would share this video. The maker of this video took photos from his window for 15 months and then took these photos and made a time lapse video that captures the changes in the seasons. Utterly fabulous...

 http://www.treehugger.com/natural-sciences/15-months-forests-life-shown-3-minute-time-lapse.html

I hope each of you is having a wonderful start to your New Year. Keep warm and cozy!

Happy New Year!!! I am so excited for 2014. Frankly, the last year for me has been one of transition and in 2014 I hope to transition my blog into what I really hope it to be. I fear that I may be outgrowing this format as I have some ideas for things that I am not certain how to do via blogger, but for now here we are.

As this year proceeds posts will be broken into a few 'chapters'. 'Akin to Ava' will reflect on my time spent on hikes or other rambles through nature. 'Sunshine Fables' will be stories from my own life that have touched me. And finally 'Paved Enchantment' will focus on neighborhoods throughout the city and the people who inhabit them. My sincerest hope is that this chapter especially will challenge people to reconsider parts of the city that are typically thought of with fear, apprehension, or are flatly ignored.

When Ava met Sparrow

And I am back!!! I apologize for the brief absence of the Story Girl; however it took me a beat to figure out how to remove my last name from the blog. As a social worker I have to be very careful as to who has access to my online information, but with a quick 'name change' I have returned to blogger. I have had many entries that I have saved whether in my mind, journal, or in my camera so in the next few days as time allows I will try to play catchup. It was my sincerest goal this year to focus on finding the beauty in EVERY day and fear not the absence of posts is in now way indicative of an absence of focus. 

What a wonderful day to return to my blog too! On this rainy day I took my pug friend, Mack, on a little walk through Blue Hills. While I have had my beloved camera (Sparrow) for a little while now, Sparrow until today had not yet met Ava (My BTF- Best Tree Forever). So with Mack in tow I took Sparrow out and we happened upon Ava. Ava has been featured on this blog many a time. It is perhaps strange that I am so friendly with a tree, but I love this tree very very much. Today I found that she was a little slanted and I fear that perhaps she is going to fall soon. I was glad to see that despite a distinct lean Ava still looks austere and proud. It's just a little gangsta lean perhaps. 

Rain fell most of the day. I looked out the window many times hoping it would cease, yet in truth the rain did nothing but heighten the beauty of the Autumn trees. From my view everything's edges seemed a bit blurry and it felt like living in a painting. Today the world was art and the window a meager frame to the great masterpiece of mother nature.

Teppee construction. More to come.

It is day four of the November national blogging challenge and I am already struggling. It isn't that I don't have anything to post about it, it is just that I had a kinda tough day. Perhaps that is when one needs things like these I suppose. Today I thought a lot about class and race and how it is important that even when we think we are culturally competent that we acknowledge that we still have work to do. This can be an uneasy thought, but something I must challenge myself on as well. There is no gold star for being culturally competent- it is an ongoing process. I found this quote and thought I would share:

"I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality....I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word"

-Martin Luther King Junior 

The words of Martin Luther King Junior always bring beauty into my heart even when I contemplating ugliness in the world.

Yesterday I took a walk through Forrest Hills Cemetery. I haven't been since the summer time and I was anxious to see the effects of Autumn. I started out at the pond as I usually do; however I took a slightly different path as I proceeded. This particular path took me to a part of the cemetery that I typically avoid- it is where the most recent entries into the graveyard live. I love old graveyards, but it is with trepidation that I enter newer ones. I have no fear of those that are buried, but of running into those that are living and very much grieving. And as it happens I did have such a run in.

I was walking along when I saw a sign that read 'Garden of Enduring Love'. I looked at my roommate, who was along for the journey, and exclaimed, "Oh everyone that is here must have had a wonderful love story! You would have to be a part of a true love to be buried here!" My romantic soul was buzzing and then I looked to my left and there he was. Sitting in between the gravestones was a man likely in his late 50s to early 60s. He was sprawled out in what appeared to be a rather comfortable fashion with his back against one of the stones. He had his newspaper held in front of him and the rest of it was casually laid across his lap. He had other supplies such as a thermos and other creature comforts. The way he sat with his paper it was not to hard to envision him sitting as such on a sofa or love seat. He took no notice of us and continued to read. He looked so comfy and it was an odd sight to see. I very much wanted to take a photo; however I resisted the urge and tried to hurry past without seeming as if I was hurrying past.

As we continued along I thought a lot about him and wondered about whom he was visiting. I would think it was his partner. Perhaps they had read the paper together on the weekends and he was continuing the tradition. Whomever he was and whomever he was visiting, he seemed peaceful. There was no grief on his face. I have no way of knowing what was in his heart however and though I will never know his story I was moved by him. I have to believe that who he was visiting was an enduring love. And I think there is beauty in knowing that though death may separate us we are never truly a part when we continue to make space for one another in our hearts and sometimes even in our Saturday afternoons.  

Below find some more of the many photos I took during my trip- 

A jaunt through Forrest Hills Cemetery.

Inky skies, sparkly streets.

My phone died a sad death early into my hike so I'll only have a small offering of photos for y'all;  however that shant happen again for the Story Girl has finally gotten herself a point and shoot! I'm so excited and happy! In the meantime-

Don't let a little old tree that has has fallen along your path keep you from your journeys.

I spoke with a man the other day regarding yoga. He was enthused about the topic as yoga had helped transform him. He told me that as a child his father had been very punishing and severe. The man paused for a moment as he struggled with his words. "What I mean to say," he began "Is that my father was abusive. I was often frightened of him and what might trigger his abuse." he continued to tell me that through yoga he was able to find a space in his mind where he could make connections with this fear of his father to his shyness and anxiety as an adult. He had always struggled to understand his reticence in speaking with others and why it was difficult for him to make connections. Through yoga he was able to establish a quiet meditation that allowed him to understand that his fear of his father had translated into a fear of others. And this fear had stayed with him well into adulthood.

Making this connection between his anxiety and his childhood in many ways freed him. He spoke of the power of yoga and how it not only unlocked your muscles, but somehow also unlocked the secrets of your mind. Unlocking hidden thoughts within the depths of your heart and mind...it seems so dangerous, but for this man it created harmony. I have known this man for some time now and he has never been especially chatty. He has a slow and eager smile and in a lilting voice can sing Beatles songs. I know that he loves the ocean and he can be a bit of a flirt though in a quiet way. I had not known much else about him and yet here we were. He had shared something so powerful and in such a simple way free of fancy words, sweeping adjectives, or grand allusions.

I, myself, also love yoga. I take pleasure in the pain I feel as I maneuver my body into poses both natural and unnatural. I enjoy sharing yoga with others and have on many occasions used it as a calming interventions with the children I work with. There have been times when doing my own practice and moving through a series of poses that I have felt waves of emotion cascade over me. Yet as I complete the series the emotions ebb away leaving me feeling relaxed and content. During yoga practice it is one of the rare times I feel in harmony with my own body.

There is something about our culture, our inner voices that tell us our bodies are wrong. Our waist is too big, our knees too knobby, or we're too short or too tall. It always seems to be something. Our bodies are beautiful though for we are our own greatest instruments. We hold so many secrets, secrets that seem ugly or scary but are beautiful for they are the story of ourselves. And exercise- yoga, running, dancing, swimming, hiking- can often be the key to unlocking these secrets as it was for this man. In fact, I was so moved by this man that it has infused my own yoga practice.

I hope that his story can encourage you to not fear your own truths as recognizing them can sometimes set you free. I also hope his story encourages you to appreciate your own body and how your can use it as a transformative tool.

Love After Love

The time will come
When, with elation
You will greet yourself arriving
At your own door, in your own mirror,
And each will smile at the other's welcome,

And say, sit here, Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
To itself, to the stranger who has loved you

All your life, whom you ignored
For another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

The photographs, the desperate notes,
Peel your image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

-Derek Walcott

Remember that it is impossible to be good to someone else in any kind of relationship or to truly love them properly until you learn how to love and be good to yourself. Fall in love with yourself. Feast on your life.  

Just some pretty blossoms from my hood. That is all. :-)

Planet Earth The Way It Should Be - [One Day - Matisyahu] [Life Vest Ins...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYRS4FQXZrk

My beautiful friend Danielle shared this with me. I love this. I like to think about how even though we don't always notice them, moments like these are happening around us all the time. I am not sure why the bad things that others do stand out so much, but this video isn't so far fetched I don't think. There are small moments of kindness that seem not so special; however they are so meaningful and important. I wonder if we are so quick to notice the bad things that go on, because so often we are also so quick to notice the bad things about our own selves. Remember, you never know when you are someone's most beautiful part of their day. By being yourself, you can be changing their life even for just for one moment. We are the building blocks of a more compassionate community, a more compassionate world. We are powerful, we are beautiful. So stop knocking yourself down- build yourself up too. You'd be amazed what you can do when you look for the beauty in yourself. 

“Heroes didn't leap tall buildings or stop bullets with an outstretched hand; they didn't wear boots and capes. They bled, and they bruised, and their superpowers were as simple as listening, or loving. Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone else's. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back.”

-Jodi Picoult