Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Crafting a Plan...

Over winter break I discovered, and then binge watched every episode available, a wonderful series on PBS called Craft in America. Some of the episodes I listened to while doing other tasks. Some of the episodes I watched fully engrossed, at times even on the verge of tears for the beauty and meaning the producers were able to capture. So many of the episodes I would, and probably will, watch again and again. I hear there is a companion book to the series. I image you know what that means.

(Takes a time out from writing to click over to Amazon. Places order.)

I did not grow up in a world that included a lot of fine art. I don't know that I ever stepped foot in an art gallery as a kid. Obviously if I did, it was not a significant enough experience to leave a lasting impression on my memories.  Even though my exposure has increased significantly in my adult years, I still don't always "get" fine art. I greatly appreciate the skill required for Monet to paint his beautiful landscapes, and the vision and faith in process it took Michelangelo to chip away at a block of marble to create the Statue of David. I respect how artists have used their medium through the centuries to not only create works of beauty, but to bravely convey a message or opinion that might not have been the popular views of their time. But I have to be honest, there are times I've walked through a gallery and wondered how the heck some pieces have earned a place next to the long standing greats in art history. It is in those moments I have to remind myself that art is quite possibly the purest form of free, individual expression, and then I move on to viewing something else that speaks to MY soul.

While the world of fine art may not have been a regular playground for me as a kid, I did have regular access to the art produced through the process of craft. Craft to me is not only beautiful, but tactile and functional. Fiber arts. Pottery. Wood arts. Metal work. Watching the artists talk about their processes and demonstrating their skill throughout the Craft in America series made me want to reach out and hold their pieces in my hands to feel the quality of their work and the spirit of their process. I'm a touchy, feely person. Craft to me is touchy, feely. Touching a handmade item immediately connects me to my experiences growing up of watching my mom create with fabric and her sewing machine. Of watching my grandma paint ceramics. Of looking the latest wooden creation built by my grandpa. Of snuggling under afghans that had been crocheted by various members of my extended family. Those items may never find a place in a gallery, but they were, and still are, beautiful and useful representations of the unique creativity inside each individual in my family who took the time to make for the sake of making, rather than buying.

With the turn of the calendar to 2015 comes a personal milestone. This is the year my age changes from a number that starts with a 3, to a number that starts with a 4. For whatever reason, that has been on my mind more than I care to admit over the past year. What do milestone birthdays do that to us? I'm sure there are studies out there to explain the psychology of it all. Whatever it is, facing 40 has me thinking not only about where my life has taken me over the past 40 years, but where I will choose to take my life over the next 40. One of the common themes that keeps jumping out at me is my love of learning through the process of craft, and my need to create simple, functional works that express my creativity.

I feel very blessed to have somewhat unexpectedly fallen into my work in public education. It has allowed me to contribute to my community, which is important for my ego; to teach, which is a passion of my soul; and to connect with others, which is something I struggle with if left to my own devices. That being said, this being my 4th year working in the public education system, I can honestly say it's a temporary gig for me. It's a work life I enjoy, but not one that I see myself settling into for the long haul remainder of my 20+ working years. It's been, and continues to be as other temporary professional gigs I had in the past have been, a useful experience that I feel is helping to guide me as I start to re-imagine the direction I would like to move my working life. I can't yet see a clear picture of what direction that is, even though I've had an idea forming and rolling around in my head for well over a year now, but I know the following will be true as I craft my next work life reality:
  • There will be opportunity for me to learn and create most days.
  • There will be opportunity for me to share my interests through teaching to individuals of all ages some days.
  • There will be opportunities for me to feed both my introverted side that desires to quietly hide away in my own space getting lost in learning and creating on my own, and the side of me that needs to feel part of a larger community that is making a difference in the world around me.
  • There will be an opportunity for me to generate usable income, not because it is something I personally hold as a high priority, but because it is a need of my family and a fact of living in a society that functions on the exchange of money for goods and services.
  • There will be the opportunity for me to set my own schedule, and a seamlessness that allows for my life to be my work, and my work to be an extension of my life.
The logistics of creating such a non-traditional work life always causes me reason to pause, to question the validity of attempting such a project. Often my practical side speaks much louder than my creative, dreamy side. I'm trying to not always let that be the case. I've been trying to remind myself that I once successfully crafted a less than traditional work life, and that even though I am no longer living that life, the fact is I did the work to make a dream a reality. And it was great. Spending time over winter break watching the Craft in America series seems almost like a little divine intervention. An aligning of the stars. Like the greater universe is trying to push me towards the start of the process of action that is required to eventually turn my day-dreamy thoughts into a new tangible reality. The fact is, nothing in life is a given. Traditional working lives are just as likely to take an unexpected direction at any given moment. One would think that the experiences Scott and I have had over the past 20 years would have been a good teacher of that fact. Having gotten to know people who have found a successful way to flourish in a life that includes a non-traditional work life also serves as good encouragement that it is possible to make dreams a reality. The inspiration of watching the many craft artists, from all walks of life, featured in the Craft in America series talk about their work and how it permeates the whole of their lives may just be what I needed to help me take my first steps in creating a life where I can live MY craft.

Thanks PBS! My mental wheels are turning...


~ peace


Monday, December 29, 2014

My Silent War...

This story has been around for awhile, but yesterday was the first I had taken the time to watch the Kickstarter campaign video for the Embrace documentary project.


I had a hard time keeping tears from flowing by the end. I'm glad to see the project has been fully funded and look forward to watching the documentary. I'm sure it will invoke a few more tears.

With Christmas 2014 past, all around us are messages about how bad we should feel about our fat, ugly bodies, and what we can do to better them in 2015. I hated this time of year working in fitness because of the industry's focus on body image rather than whole person health, which was always my reasoning for pursuing a degree in exercise science. But the reason for my tears go far beyond my feelings about society's pressure for women to squeeze into a narrow standard of beauty. They are far more personal.

As I listen to Taryn's personal story about her feelings about her "after" body, as I go to her website to read her blog posts that explain her body image journey, I hear words I have repeatedly, silently said to myself for many, many years. I see my own non-stop roller-coaster ride of body love, and hate, whose track directions have been determined by the size on the tags of my wardrobe and the number that pops up when I step on a scale. It feels very shallow to admit how much my love for myself has been determined, not by my abilities, but by how much, or how little, physical space my body occupies in this world. As of late I've realize how shameful it feels that my body insecurity is a reflection of living a privileged life. I get angry with how much energy it absorbs from my life and how I seem to have an inability to get past this very first-world type of "problem", when so many around the world have concerns tied more closely to the simply needs in life. Safely. Shelter. Adequate nutrition.

Each December Scott and I attend a very nice holiday dinner with others from the management team at the company where he works. The food is always amazing. The company is always enjoyable. This year there was even dancing. I love dancing. It's always a great evening out that Scott and I simply do not otherwise take the time to experience together. This year's event was black tie, which means I started stressing about what I was going to wear in October when we got the invitation. Three dresses, 2 pair of shoes, 2 pair of shaping pantyhose, a new sparkly wrap, and a new dress coat later, I am thankful that there's no photographic evidence of our evening. As someone who cherishes so the simple snapshots of our everyday life that I take the time to capture, it saddens me to admit my relief over the lack of a photo. I stepped out for the evening with much anxiety, feeling like a little girl playing dress-up in heels that I imagined to be fantastic, but that didn't quite fit right, and a dress that, while totally cute, felt simply too simple, especially after we arrived at the event venue. I watched many women of all ages in their beautiful, often very sexy, dresses, walking around gracefully in their gorgeous high heels, and I felt like a failure. I listened to, and admittedly occasionally contributed to, conversations being had around me about some of those beautiful women, and their bodies, both angry that those women's worth was being judged, even by me, by nothing more than their appearance, and at the same time jealous that I knew I would never be the subject of such discussions. I guess that's why the fact that not one compliment on my own appearance was offered colors my memory of the evening a bit. By the night's end, with feet sore from too much dancing in my silly high heeled shoes, I couldn't wait to get home to re-box my shoes, throw my pantyhose aside, and trade my little black dress in for my baggy flannel pajamas. Admittedly, it's hard not to feel a bit defeated given the mental energy I devoted to selecting my outfit for our special evening out. At the same time my feeling of failure should really be no surprise given how often negative body talk has been the subject of my quiet inner conversations as of late.

I don't always know the directions a blog post will take when I sit down to write, only that I have a need to express thoughts and feelings in words. In part I know that working through my body image insecurities is going to require me to continue to break open the silence on my inner negative dialog. To more regularly, and openly, and without apology, celebrate the amazing things I AM able to do and create BECAUSE OF my body. From raising great kids, to creating beautiful photos, to teaching yoga, to building beautifully functional things, to teaching and inspiring others to live their best life, I know I have much to celebrate. I need to give that voice more volume in my life.

I think so many other women that are doing similar work within themselves have discovered the same need for this type of therapy. I am thankful for women who are passionate about changing the conversations women of all shapes and sizes have about their bodies, their beauty, and their sense of worth in this world. Women like Taryn. Women like Ashlee and Laura. Women like Brittney. And so many other women who are making a difference with their voices, and with their actions, and with their bodies. Women whose work will help make a better place for my daughters, and someday their daughters, to feel beautiful, and worthy, and valued simply for being the amazing individuals they each are.

I can only hope that by adding my own voice, and by sharing my own journey as I do my own body image work, I can be a small part of helping to create change for good for women from all walks of life in our world. It's my attempt at beginning to end my silent war and finding an inner peace when it comes to my feelings about my body.

For my love of the other women in my life.

For my love of my daughters.

For love of myself.



~ peace

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Holiday Greetings from the Mavins!

We had a very relaxing and joy filled long Christmas weekend. Time was spent with family, friends, and simply at home enjoying the joys of each other's company. What a blessed life we live! So many thanks for those who share in that life with us. Much love to you all!


~ peace

Sunday, November 9, 2014

No Voter Sticker...

I did not vote in Tuesday's election.

I did not vote because I have a hard time supporting a system where political parties, their candidates, and private interest groups regularly spend BILLIONS of dollars to slash and burn each other in hopes of "earning" the public's vote. All that spending on negative ads, travel and event expenses, mailings, and signage, while, for example, schools across the country are having to face cutting fine arts and foreign language programs because of continual budget cuts. Programs that enhance learning for good students. Programs that can engage the students who are not as turned on by the traditional core subjects those potential policy makers have decided should be the major focus of our public education system.


I did not vote because last Sunday I watched a politician, one who is also a trained medical doctor, spend 90 seconds totally talking his way around giving any real answer when Bob Schieffer, on Meet the Press, asked him if he would feel safe traveling to Africa to give aid to the Ebola crisis. It was a simple yes or no question one would assume he could handle given his professional training. God forbid a politician ever give a straight answer.

I did not vote because I don't agree that picking the lesser of two evils is the best way to make a decision about who will be part of those charged with running our government.

I did not vote because last time I checked, there wasn't the option to choose "I do not support the policies, ideas or practices of any of the candidates or political parties listed."

I did not vote.

Some will find that fact appalling. Lazy. Irresponsible. Unpatriotic.

I did not vote because I have a hard time participating in, and therefore supporting, a political system that is, in my humble opinion, broken, corrupt, and very, VERY out of touch with the diverse wishes and opinions of the people it was designed to serve.


peace


Sunday, September 28, 2014

No Way...

I don't normally capture video of happenings in our life because I want to be able to fully enjoy them live and in person myself, but I felt like this moment might be one other family and friends who were not with us yesterday would enjoy sharing from afar.



Happy birthday sweet girl. Love you lots!

~ peace ~