A Pair of Red Mittens

Of all the photos I have, this one is most precious to me. Unlike the other snapshots I have of my early childhood that capture the parts of my personal timeline I was still too young to remember, this one captures the moment the memories began.

I can still feel the warmth of those knit, red mittens as my father tugged them over my chubby toddler hands.

Like the photo, the memory is worn and grainy, and it plays itself slowly and in splices, like an old silent film. After helping me with my mittens, my dad helped another little girl with hers. But as he did, I noticed something was different about her. She didn't ask my dad to put them on, at least not with words. She simply motioned for his help. "She's deaf,"my father explained to me when I asked him why the little girl couldn't talk.

According to recent research, most toddlers are able to recall past events by age 17 months (I was 18 months when this photo was taken), especially if those events are special or distinctive. Why did my mind decided to latch on to this moment to propel itself into action? Was it the chance encounter with someone the same, yet different from myself? It's almost as if putting on the mittens sparked my memory, setting it into motion for the rest of my life.

The older I get, the more I appreciate photographs. There is a story in each. They are an unwritten, unspoken journal of sorts that require no words and no writing utensils. So I've decided to dub each Saturday "Snapshot Saturdays: A Wordless Journal." On these days, I'll set my pen down and pick up my camera instead. After all, I've been told a picture is worth a thousand words.

Wishcasting Wednesday: Celebrate the Journey

It’s Wednesday! Most people celebrate this day as the halfway point to the weekend. I used to, too. But since I started following Jamie Ridler Studios, Wednesdays have taken on a whole new—and more joyful—meaning. Now each and every Wednesday is a Wishcasting Wednesday!

Today, as Jamie celebrates the fruition of one of her wishes (she received the sample copy of her new book, the Wishcasting Journal—hooray Jamie!) she asks her fellow creative explorers, “What do you wish to celebrate?”

That’s a tough one, Jamie. I could celebrate being on the road to recovery from a nasty little head cold. I could celebrate my younger sister and grandparents’ homecoming for the Thanksgiving holiday. I could celebrate Re.Told Journals, my line of recycled vintage book journals, being accepted into a nationally recognized juried folk and fine art fair next month. I could celebrate the completion of my very first piece of mixed media art, something I’ve wanted to do for quite some time but let my lack of “artistic training” stand in the way. I could celebrate my husband, who had just the right words (even if they weren’t his own) to comfort my frenzied soul as I vented to him about the excitement, confusion, frustration and joy I feel over my many recent creative endeavors and the many possible paths they could—or might not—lead. (If you're interested in finding out what those words were, you can find it in a twitter update from today @bysararae.)

But which of these events and people and occasions were most worthy of celebration?

All of them.

I can't choose just one because each one, in some way, makes up a piece of my life's journey. It's all interconnected. So today I choose to celebrate the journey…every single step of it. I celebrate the hope and the frustration, the joys and disappointments, the calm and the chaos, the desire and the contentment, the gains and the losses, the expectations and the dreams fulfilled, the 2 a.m. epiphanies and the on-second-thought-maybe-not ideas. I celebrate learning to let go of it all, including the desire to have it all, in order to let this journey take its intended course. And with each step, I’ll celebrate—maybe even do a little version of my very own “happy dance”—because I am creating a life of handcrafted happiness.

www.bysararae.com

The Upside of Downtime

I have a hard time slowing down. But today, my body is giving me no other choice. I'm home with a terrible cold that leaves me with just enough energy to curl up on the couch with my pillow, blanket, mug of yogi tea and, of course, my ever faithful German shepherd, Dixie.

A part of me is thankful for the rest. It's giving me the opportunity to take a fresh look at why my body called a time out in the first place. And I can't shake the feeling that is has something to do with the fact that there's simply too much on my plate these days. There's a fine line one has to walk between being "busy" (spinning in circles) and being productive (moving forward). It's easy to cross the line, especially when the extraneous to-dos and obligations take on the cunning guise of "opportunity." And yes, I'm learning, that even things we enjoy can become unnecessary distractions that pull us further away from our intended paths.

I recently stumbled upon the Creative Thursday podcasts by Marisa Haedike. In this particular podcast, she talked about childhood holding clues to our authentic self, or the me I'm supposed to be, as I like to say. As a child, what did you like to do for creative play? What made the minutes fly? What made you feel pure joy?

For me, it was writing. When I received my first journal for Christmas in 1988, I wrote in it daily. Faithfully. When I wasn't writing in my journal, I cut and pasted pictures onto paper to create my own magazines. I wrote my own newspapers and left them on the neighbors' doorsteps. I devoured creative writing assignments in English class. In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I spent every after school moment working on that year's family play (yes, my aunts, uncles, sisters and cousins kindly obliged and became my cast and crew). Back then, writing was play. Writing was me.

When did that change? When was the "play" of writing replaced with what would be perceived as "practical?" When did that undying belief in myself—in my voice, my opinions, my ideas—become misinterpreted as conceit? When did the need to pick up the pen or bang the keys succumb to fear of what others would think of my thoughts? It's almost as if I turned my back on Young Sara. Just left her standing there with her pen and notebook and a head full of deliciously creative ideas. The thought makes me so sad.

So I've decided to use this precious downtime I've been given (ahh, there's the silver lining to my stuffy head and runny nose) to reconnect with Young Sara.  I'm surrounding myself with old photographs. I'm even watching reruns of favorite childhood cartoons and 80s sitcoms. I'm paging through the books I read and re-read as a child. I'm reading old diary entries and listening to my small voice captured on a cassette tape. And as I do these things, I'm allowing myself to feel the energy and emotions each creates, the clues they leave that will lead me back to Authentic Me.

www.bysararae.com

The Everyday Mundane

One of my favorite blogs and podcasts is that of Jamie Ridler, of Jamie Ridler Studios. Each Wednesday is dubbed Wishcasting Wednesday, an opportunity for bloggers and “independent creative spirits” (as Jamie so lovingly calls we creative types) to release their hearts’ desires into the world. (And on a side note, don’t you just adore the term “independent creative spirits?” Don’t you just sense yourself standing a little taller at the mere mention of it? I know I do.)

I realize it’s Thursday and that my wish is coming a day late. But, really, is it ever too late to wish?

This week’s wishcasting prompt was, “What do you wish to enjoy.”

For me, I wish to enjoy the everyday mundane…the here and now…this in between time in my life that feels a little bit like standing in a line. I know what I want and where I am going, but must first work…and then wait to reap the harvest.

It feels a little bit like being a kid and having a pair of footie pajamas that are a tad too tight. You know, where your toes press against the inside and stretch out the ends of the feet, but they aren’t quite tight enough to convince mom to cut them off and let your toes wiggle freely? I’m that kid in those don’t-quite-fit-right footie pajamas.

I recently stumbled upon a proverb that spoke to my core about this very matter.

“Those too lazy to plow in the right season will have no food at the harvest.” Proverbs 20:4

Writer Diane Eble, expands upon this thought in her book Abundant Gifts: A Daybook of Grace-Filled Devotions by explaining that, as with so many things, timing is everything when it comes to the success an endeavor. With farming, it does the farmer no good to sow too early in hopes of harvesting his crop a little bit sooner. Nor does it do him any good to sow too late in an attempt to shorten the time between the planting and harvest. There’s a timing and a method and a reason for both in every successful undertaking.

It’s something I must continue to work on, and remind myself of often as I put in the late hours and make sacrifices and all the while wonder, “Will it even matter?”

When my gremlins named Self-Doubt and Passivity try to talk me out of my dream, I silence them reminding myself of the tiny sprouts already springing forth in this creative dream of mine. A year ago, I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to do. Now, Stepping Stones Studio is REAL…and growing. One. Step. At. A. Time.

During my first marathon, my muscles sore but strong, my body fatigued but determined, I realized that all the training miles, all the lonely early morning runs had finally pieced themselves together to create this moment. It was because of all those baby steps that I was now conquering the 26.2-mile challenge before me.

So today I want to enjoy the steps, whichever one I happen to be on at this very moment. It may be working an ordinary J-O-B for awhile in order to fund My Dream…and that’s O.K. Actually, it’s not only O.K., it’s great because it’s the steps in the journey that make arriving at the intended destination that much sweeter.

So today, I wish to enjoy every last second of the everyday mundane.

www.bysararae.com
Stepping Stones Studio