Flying With Heart

Artwork by Lorelei: "That is when he started to fly wingless
with heart"-Bahareh Amidi

Today I am reminded to fly with heart.  It was from a poem that I received this memory, a poem entitled “The Angel Who Lost His Wings.”  The author, Bahareh, is a beautiful poetess and I'm honored to call her my friend as well.

 

As a child I was afraid of everything. At times it was a paralyzing and consuming fear. I was afraid of being left alone, afraid of thunder, afraid of getting lost, afraid of going to hell, afraid of talking to people. The list goes on. You name it, I was fearful of it. 

As an adult, I’ve made a conscious effort not to be limited by my fears. I no longer entertain the fear-based illusions of my own mind or try to save others based on them. I believe fear is the basis for exclusion in relationships, both individual and global. We fear what we don’t understand. It is my belief that we are all one, all connected, all here to guide, teach, and support each other in the process of being.

Artwork by Lorelei: "The greatest danger facing us is ourselves, and irrational fear of the unknown."
- Captain Kirk, Star Trek

Very few people want to risk exploring anything beyond their physical, mental, or spiritual comfort zones. I want to listen, reflect, and experience. I want to look beyond my fears and my limited beliefs. I want to examine all the perceptions that keep me from connecting to myself and to the people and experiences that cross my path.

I’ve feel the light that shines in me and through me. I want to inspire others to embrace their own journey, finding their own truth, and live creatively. We all have our own mountains to climb, struggling through the myriad of challenges that will reveal our own light.

Artwork by Lorelei: I must be a mermaid. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.”-Anais Nin

In a matter of days I will embark on a new adventure - a new chapter in my journey. It begins with a month-long Yoga retreat and certification. I bounce back and forth between moments of excitement to moments of sheer panic! I’ve never done anything quite like this before. The mind worms of anxiety and fear have definitely crept in and out of the corners of my thoughts.

Artwork by Lorelei: “Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be...Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before.” -Erich Fromm

 

As I sit in reflection of my life, my children come to mind. Their bravery and courage in their own lives give me renewed strength to keep reaching, to spread my wings and fly. Their willingness to take risks, to follow their own dreams and blaze new trails, fill me with pride as a mother and give me the courage to do the same.

Artwork by Lorelei: “You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover will be yourself. “-Alan Alda

I think back to when my oldest son was small. He was four. He was a beautiful blue-eyed, curly-headed, shy little momma’s boy. That morning the sky was as blue as his eyes and the sunshine as bright as his smile. I helped him tie his orange belt in preparation to compete in a statewide competition for Tae Kwon Do. 

As we approached the lobby of the venue, there were hundreds of people filing into the arena. The room was packed with spectators, fellow competitors and parents. Pieces of conversation buzzed in our ears like a swarm of bees, and camera lights hit the air like flashes of lightning. It was quite overwhelming. He took one look at this crowd, let go of my hand, and bolted for the door. He was there to “fight” but he decided to take “flight” instead.

I caught up with him and swooped him up just as he reached the exit. I tried unsuccessfully to console him. My words did little to convince him that he was brave and prepared for this day. I can still see those big blue eyes filled with tears, begging me to take him home. Conflicted, and with many second thoughts, I quickly deposited him, tears and all, into the hands of his beloved instructor. With tears of my own, I disappeared into the crowd, not knowing if he would participate, much less forgive me. That day, without realizing it, my son began one of many journeys in his life. It was the beginning of his journey within. 

Artwork by Lorelei: "From that hour Siddhartha ceased to fight against his destiny. There shone in his face the serenity of knowledge, of one who is no longer confronted with conflict of desires, who has found salvation, who is in harmony with the stream of events, with the stream of life, full of sympathy and compassion, surrendering himself to the stream, belonging to the unity of all things."-Hermann Hesse

At the tender age of four, my little boy grew leaps and bounds that morning. He found his light, stepped onto the floor, scared to death, yet determined. Just like the angel who lost his wings, he started to fly, with the wings of his heart. This time, those wings didn't carry him out the door in fear, but instead he soared to new heights. Those wings carried him to victory, both physically and emotionally. He walked off the floor, a little taller, a little braver, a little wiser, and with two gold medals around his neck. He was transformed. So was I.

Occasionally, my four-year old self visits me, full of fear and self-doubt. At times, while preparing for this yoga adventure, I’ve wanted to run away, just like my baby did on that sunny Saturday morning almost 20 years ago. I invite my more adventurous self to embrace the unknowns with wonder and joyful anticipation. 

For me, adventure and travel are almost always accompanied by inward journeys. Perhaps, by being dedicated to our own self-transformation on a daily basis, committed to living creatively, and practicing compassion with ourselves as well as others, true healing can begin. Perhaps, by staying present in the moment, embracing the mystery, and opening to the lessons we can learn from each other, we can begin to heal the world. Perhaps, I’m a dreamer, but perhaps, I’m not the only one.

Artwork by Lorelei:
"Listen to the colour of your dreams."-The Beatles

So, I will embrace myself with compassion and deliver my inner four-year-old self to the beloved Yogis – my teachers and guides along this particular journey. I know that just as my son did that day, and my children have done many times since, I will spread my wings and fly with heart.

Artwork by Lorelei: Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence."
- Desiderata

Pack light, travel light, BE the light.

On The Wings Of Cupid

The Universe has indeed, come rushing in. I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever felt connected to so many hearts. Over the course of the past few weeks, many people have touched my life in one way or another. I’ve sat with the sorrow of heartbreak, witnessed the bravery of youth, and shared in the celebration of milestones. I’ve felt the unfolding and opening of my own heart like a flower in full bloom, confirming what my spirit has always known. My truth. It’s about connection. It’s about stories. It’s about the journey.

Artwork by Lorelei: “Wherever you are, and whatever you do, be in love.” -Rumi

 I’m feeling such love and gratitude tonight for all who are in my life. As I reflect upon my path and those I’ve encountered along the way, the impact cannot possibly be fully realized. I’m grateful for all the people that have shared my journey. I hold memories of you like pieces of gathered treasure, with fondness in my heart. 

Each experience has been inspiring and unique, filled with the colors of connection and emotions. A simple smile from a stranger, a tear from a friend, and a prayer from a mother have painted my canvas with layers of life. Living art. I’m filled with possibility and inspiration. Each story you’ve shared, and each truth you’ve spoken have been gifts in my life and lessons to wonder and ponder, each leading me to a deeper understanding of myself.

Artwork by Lorelei:

"If we look at the world with a love of life, the world will reveal itself to us"-Daisaku Ikeda

Every day is a perfect day to feel and celebrate the deep appreciation for all those soul connections. Today I send my love to you all on the wings of Cupid and hope it lands softly at your heart’s door. I send you love and light and wish you a Valentine’s Day filled inspiration, possibility, creativity, and gifts from the heart.

For The Love Of Golf

I’ve done my best to keep up with his balls and support them as best I could over the years, but it hasn’t always been easy! I’ve been a ball chaser, ball retriever, and ball buster...in the most loving way of course.

Artwork by Lorelei: "A Story Of Love"

 I’m not the least bit embarrassed to tell you that my husband loves his balls! Yes, it’s true. His balls come in all sizes and a variety of colors; he has different balls for different occasions and sometimes he carries a spare ball in his pocket. He has a complete collection of tennis balls, racquet balls, basketballs, and squash balls.

Perry's day of tennis with Rafael Nadal

 He even had the balls to run 12 complete marathons!

Perry crossing the finish line at the Dubai Marathon

 Over the last four years, he's added golf balls to his collection.  A lot of golf balls…..

Perry with a swing in his step.

 The way I see it, golf is a man’s dream sport. Just the terminology alone is enough to launch him into a fantasy world, one from which he may never return. It’s the only place he can get away with clubbing every night, enjoy a threesome while frolicking in the grass, and where “fore” play is all about him! What's not to love?

He was a couple of years into this relationship before I arrived here in the UAE. I definitely felt I needed to educate myself on the rules of this newly revised and updated obsession of his. As far as I could tell, this made most of his other previous ball obsessions obsolete. He had set a new course and had a swing in his step.

What’s a girl to do? It was clear to me that if I wanted to be a part of his world, I would have to grow some balls of my own, step out onto the golf course, and get to know my competition well. So I took a deep breath and eagerly stepped up to the opportunity for growth!

My prior golf experience involved “goofy golf” many moons ago, a very redneck game of washers in Texas at my brother’s house, Frisbee golf in the foothills of Colorado with my kids, and driving a golf cart around a senior living community, giving tours where I worked. I also felt encouraged by the fact that women were, more and more, enjoying a sport that was traditionally seen as a male-dominated game. Attitude is everything, so I adjusted mine and got excited about the possibilities of trying this so-called sport my husband was head-over-hills about. Still, I wondered if I would ever grow to genuinely love it. 

Artwork by Lorelei: "Wisdom in Wonder"

Perry was very encouraging and excited for me to join his clubbing scene. After all, if I loved the game, he would benefit by getting more kitchen passes and hopefully have my blessing. After checking out some of the local golf clubs, we quickly found our home at the Abu Dhabi City Golf Club. It was a little less formal than most clubs and offered night golfing which meant he could golf after work. Additionally, it was community and family oriented, and offered a few other amenities as well. I figured, worst-case scenario, if things didn’t work out between golf and me, we could reunite on the 19th hole for a date night.

Look who I found on the 19th hole

As every good aspiring golfer does, I immediately signed up for lessons, bought the proper "cute" attire, and a six pack of hot pink balls. I had high hopes of my junior golf clubs and I being a perfect match. Occasionally, being short comes in handy. I refused to put the money into a “real” set until I proved myself worthy. As I look back now, I realize that maybe that Angry Bird golf club cover was an omen of things to come.

Lesson day

Angry Bird

Learning to love the game of golf wasn’t immediate. If love is just a game, then this was it. It’s been a looong fairway! In fact, on more than one occasion, I’ve been convinced that the grass is surely greener on the other side and considered walking off into the sunset, setting my balls free. I definitely had commitment issues. It felt awkward and uncomfortable in the beginning. Like all relationships, it was give and take. I gave and it took! Most of the time, the only birdies I got to enjoy were the occasional birds that squawked across the pond when my pretty pink ball splashed into the water. I’ve spent so much time in the bunker with a sand wedge and a rake, I might've been better off just sitting down in the sand, building castles and reconnecting with my inner child. Come to think of it, it's quite common to see people connecting with their inner two-year-old out on the course.

Artwork by Lorelei: "Be Free"

Here I am two years later still playing the game. I’ve settled in to a comfortable “on occasion” tee time. I see it more clearly now. I get it. It’s an art. It’s creative. It’s inspiring. It’s a relationship.

Art by Lorelei "Tee Time"

I’m no longer threatened by the seductive call my husband hears from her beautiful peaks and valleys, or her well-manicured landscape. I've come to accept, admire, and respect the beautiful game of golf, even though she doesn't whisper my name. My muse lies elsewhere. Most of the time, I'd rather be doing the downward dog instead of dogleg, slinging paint instead of swinging clubs, and reading books instead of reading greens. For me, Ace is still a hardware store and a cup is just a bra size. However, I do look forward to spending time at the club with family and friends.

My favorite golf  partners! Team Broxson!

One of my favorite things about golf is just enjoying being outdoors, particularly this time of year when there’s a cool breeze and the sunsets are so beautiful.

Abu Dhabi Sunset

The golf professionals that manage the club are awesome, but I consider everyone that works at our club a golf pro. Of course I'm talking about the support staff. They're a team. They know us by name and make us feel like we’ve just won the PGA Desert Classic when we walk in the door. It's known as the "Peoples Golf Club," and it's true. The culture and the attitude make it a great community. A home away from home.

Part of the awesome wait staff at ADCGC Always has a smile.

Perry and Casey. Casey is part of the awesome waitstaff at ADCGC

Perry's buddy, Kumar at ADCGC. Best bartender ever!

I love that I’ve met new people and built lasting friendships. Life isn't always fair, neither is golf! It brings out the best and the worst in people, so it can definitely be an interesting couple of hours, depending on who you're golfing with.

Artwork by Lorelei: "Drama Queen"

I love the greens!

My favorite greens!

And....I love the drive. Nothing feels quite like a perfectly executed drive….in a golf cart!

I've discovered my own joys of golfing. They may be somewhat outside the box - the tee box, that is. I have my own approach to keeping golf fun and creative. I've found inspiration in the people I've met and brought a little bit of "me" to the mix as well.

Paint the Town night at Abu Dhabi City Golf Club

Inspiring creativity. Growing great artists and golfers!

The thing about golf is that you don’t have to be a professional golfer to love the game. And, in my case, you don’t even have to be a golfer to fall in love with it. Oh, and I did trade in my junior clubs for a “big girl” set! 

The Pilgrimage Within

Tear off the mask; Your face is glorious-Rumi

We were a cozy group of eight. We were a diverse group: different backgrounds and experiences. We were men, women, dark skinned and light skinned, from various races, religions, professions, and regions of the world; each traveling a different personal journey. The Pilgrimage Within. I could feel the energy in the room from the moment I walked in. I joined the others seated in a circle on the floor. I felt emotional. I had goose bumps. I knew right away that I was meant to be there and that this was going to be an experience to be remembered.

Recently I participated in a local poetry writing and healing workshop led by Bahareh Amidi, PhD., an Iranian American. I’d seen the flyer circulating around the yoga studio offering “The Pilgrimage Within.” I don’t write poetry and I didn’t particularly think that I needed any healing, but still I felt an undeniable urge to give it a try. I was curious and I am, in fact, on a journey. Remembering my New Year’s intention of living wholeheartedly, I listened to that small intuitive whisper and I signed up.

As we introduced ourselves, some revealed that they were there to heal personal inner wounds; some were there as professional practitioners to learn how to help their patients heal through poetry. Some came out of a love of reading and writing poems. I didn’t really have an agenda per-se. I signed up because it spoke to me. I felt open to whatever lessons might come from participating. I hoped to explore writing and poetry and somehow incorporate it into my art and vision for living my life with courage, compassion, and connection.

Bahareh opened the workshop by giving us each a beautiful handmade journal from Nepal. She told her story and spoke of being a child of The Universe. We read and discussed beautiful poetry and prose from Rumi, Herman Hessse, and Mary Oliver. Bahareh graciously shared a few of her own original poems as well. 

Handmade journal from Nepal

The real magic happened when it came time for us to let our own words spill out onto the paper. And that’s exactly how Bahareh explained it. She gave us the first sentence of our poem as a prompt and for the next five minutes we visualized leaning over the paper with our heart open, tenderly letting the words spill out on to the pages of our journal.

"Knowing"

Bahareh gently encouraged us to put our voices in to the circle; to read our poems aloud and to share with the group. It was powerful. Feelings and emotions bubbled up as I read my own words out loud. It was even more powerful to hear my words read to me by someone else.

Out of respect for her privacy, I’ll call her, Atiyaha, which means gift. Her voice was soft, yet reassuring and strong. As she spoke my poem to me, I felt my words take on new life and meaning. She was reading it from a place that emanated from her heart. As we stood there face to face, I could feel my words as she read them out loud. Her eyes rarely left my eyes as she read and I felt as if I was looking in the mirror, staring at my own reflection. 

Next, Atiyaha read the poem she had written in her journal. She was tearful as she read her words, raw and unfiltered. She spoke of writing with a trembling hand as her pen met the paper. She spoke about the pen being mightier than the sword. She also wrote of removing “the mask.” When asked what “the mask” represented in her poem, she simply said, “I am from Saudi Arabia.” In that country, Muslim women are required to wear a veil to cover their hair and sometimes cover their face as well. In the simplest terms, "the mask" could be interpreted as her veil. On the other hand, there might possibly have been a more complex meaning tied to religious and cultural wounds. I wondered how many other masks she was courageously taking off on her pilgrimage within.

Her words resonated with me. Saudi Arabia was home for my family and me for ten years and I understood the literal mask of which she spoke. I could also relate to the religious and cultural wounds that we impose on each other, even in America. The removing of the mask spoke to me about the authenticity of being brave enough to be who you really are. It does not come without risk. We spend a lifetime trying on masks. Sometimes we hide behind them; sometimes we wear them like a “mask-of-the-day,” trading one for another at our convenience. Sometimes it takes years to realize we’ve been wearing one at all. The quote by Walt Whitman came to my mind: “Re-examine all that you have been told... dismiss that which insults your soul.”

I admired Atiyaha for taking off her mask, for dismissing what insulted her soul. We should all dare to have such great courage.

For those two hours, sitting on blankets in a circle on the floor, there were no differences. We were from the same family. We were brothers and sisters. We were exchanging pieces of ourselves, gifts if you will, with written words from our hearts. As I sat there, soaking up the moment, the circle shape became significant to me. Round, flowing, continuing. There were no corners, no sharp edges, no points. Our thoughts and words were reaching across the circle, touching each other.  Yes, Atiyaha was right, the pen was mightier than the sword.

I thought about the billions of people living on this big round planet we call Earth. Here we were, eight random people, sitting in a small circle sharing our smaller personal worlds. For me, it was representative of how small the world really is and at the same time how big that small group really was. That day, the eight of us became forever connected even if we never see each other again. As we opened our hearts to spill our words, more importantly we were spilling drops of ourselves.

My hope is that the kindness, the empathy, the heart, and the learning we shared with one another across our small circle will, if nothing else, be a ray of light and understanding that continues to shine across the world. I also like to think that the healing that took place was bigger than just on a personal level. At that moment, it all seemed so simple. Humanity. We were opening up, connecting to each other, trusting, offering a safe place for our voices to be heard and listening with eagerness and hearts open to the messages someone else’s words might offer to our own lives.

I walked into the workshop open to the lessons that might come to me. As I walked out, I was even more aware of what I already knew to be true. By nurturing our creative souls, we expand our minds, and evolve our perceptions. By sharing our stories through creativity, whether through art, music, or in this case, writing poetry, we learn about ourselves and solve problems. Without a doubt, I understood that we were teachers and students of one another and that we were, as Bahareh said  quite simply, children of The Universe.

The Night I Painted the Town

Her ad said: “No experience necessary. Anyone can do it! It’s fun art, not fine art!”

I passed up several opportunities to go to an open paint night during that year, because I was in the middle of my too-busy life to be bothered. Besides that, I never considered myself a painter, much less a “real” artist. I thought of myself as more the crafty, hot glue gun queen, paint a wall, re-arrange the furniture, decorator type. Even so, the opportunity for me to go kept coming back around like a revolving door. I clearly remember the night when I finally decided to just give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen? I remember thinking. And so, I headed out to “Paint The Town.”

As I pulled into the parking lot, I could see through the big plate-glass storefront. There were brightly painted walls and paintings everywhere. It looked happy. It looked fun, but I still wasn’t convinced that this was for me. If I hadn’t been meeting another friend there, honestly, I might have just turned around and left. I took a deep breath, put my hand on the door, and pushed it open. I stepped inside, not really expecting much out of the experience. I walked in to “Paint The Town” expecting a painting lesson. What I walked away with was so much more.

“Hi, I’m Bev,” she said with a big smile and a bubbly, southern accent. I had never met her before that night, but I knew within minutes, maybe even seconds, that we had a special connection. We were kindred spirits. We were soul mates. Nooo, not soul mates of the marrying kind, but of the soul sister kind. I have many friends, but very few people in my life that I consider my true soul mates.

I had a stroke of serendipity that evening. I fell in love. I fell in love with my paintbrush and canvas and I fell in love with the feeling I had while painting. For the next 4 hours, time stood still and I drifted off to a happy place that I didn’t know existed. I am by nature a happy person, but this was a different kind of happy. It came from a deeper place. It was a peace and a stirring all at the same time. It was freedom. That night there was a shift and a door opened up in more ways than one. I could feel it. That night I was actually introduced to two people. One was Bev Selby and the other one was . . . me.

I went back almost every night. Over the next couple of months, Bev and I talked for hours, and painted our hearts out. We had lifetimes to catch up on and not much time to do it. I was moving overseas very soon. Our friendship developed over a few weeks instead of many years, even though it felt like I had known her forever. We shared ideas, experiences, stories, beliefs and differences. She encouraged me to follow my dreams and to be brave. We shared many good times and a few bad times. Sometimes we shared wine out of a box, Chipotle burrito bowls, and Chick-Fil-A fries.

Ironically enough, we both had kids the same age that graduated from the same high school, similar values and vision for connecting with people, and love for adventure and living life. Our prior professional backgrounds were similar and even our wedding anniversary fell on the same date, month, and year! We were 40-something-year-old women, soon to be empty nesters, trying to help our college age kids figure out life and at the same time trying to figure out our own. We were moms. We were wives. We were creative. We were brave. We were determined.

Our friendship has grown over the last 2 years. By now we’ve shared our homes, survived fires, and patched up broken hearts. We’ve grieved deaths, celebrated marriages, welcomed new puppies and well… the list goes on. Our kids have become friends and it gives me comfort to know she is there for my own children when I'm so far away. We live on opposite sides of the world for the time being, but I know some day our paths will cross again in some adventurous way.

When I think back to that night and how it is connected to where I am now on my creative journey, I keep coming back to the opening of the door. I love doors. I have a thing for doors. I’ve collected doors throughout my travels and even have them hanging on the walls in my home. I’m reminded of my collection of doors today, but in a different way. I reflect on how many doors have opened up to me in my lifetime. How many of those open doors did I have the courage to step inside of and commit to walking through, and where have they taken me? I wonder how many I’ve simply walked past without giving notice. How many did I bravely push wide open and how many have slammed shut for one reason or another?

I’m so grateful I opened “Paint The Town’s” door and stepped inside. I walked in and found a happy place. I discovered a whole new world of freedom, playing in paint, expressing my thoughts and emotions through art and connection. A place where I realized that I am an artist and that art is a metaphor for life. It’s also where I found a beautiful friend.

I will always remember walking through that door as a life changing beginning for me. Since that day, I’ve continued to encounter doors while walking my path, one leading to another. I am reminded not to just collect doors but to actively open doors in life and take a peek inside. Maybe even take a step inside. You just never know what surprises you might find waiting.

Perfectly Imperfect

Since publishing my first blog post a few days ago, I’ve felt anxious and somewhat overwhelmed about my next-to-be post. No, let’s be honest. Not only my next post, but my whole blog site. In a span of 24 hours, I went from announcing to the world, quite boldly I might add, that I intended to live wholehearted and brave, to feeling stressed and not so brave about any of it.

As I maneuvered around what was supposed to be an “easy” set up, the more I realized that I don’t know much at all about the technical language of the internet and the blogging world. Frustration took over. The more I thought about my limitations and inadequacies about creating my blog, my art and my life, the bigger they became in my mind. Not only that, those thoughts spilled over and flooded every other area of my day. My day became full of sighs, moans and groans and thoughts of “look what I have to do that I don’t know how to do,” instead of embracing those moments with wholeheartedness and courage.

I became anxious; my vision for my dreams blurred and I temporarily lost my enthusiasm and curiosity for the process of creating something new and unknown. I procrastinated on every level and made myself busy with excuses and random tasks rather than face the hard work of living and creating my so-called dreams. I became completely frozen and started to rationalize the idea that these challenges suggested that my work and ideas were not good enough to share with the world. In reality, it came down to me not having it all wrapped up in a pretty little package. It sounds pretty petty, huh? I wanted it perfect and I wanted it perfect now.

If I had only taken a moment to stop and look me in the face, I would have clearly seen that for the most part, I was my biggest limitation. It shouldn’t have been about being good enough or not good enough. It should have been about my intention of living wholeheartedly, opening up and leaning in to the experience and challenges at hand and having the courage to walk through them in spite of myself. I am reminded of a phrase that a former boss of mine used quite frequently when discussing challenges. He replaced the word challenge with the phrase opportunity for growth. I really like that phrase and mindset, and have made it a practice in my personal life….except for this week.

I forgot to have compassion for myself. I forgot to let go of who I think I’m “supposed” to be and just be perfectly imperfect me! I forgot to live in the moment, to breathe deep, and to love the necessary work. Ahhh, yes, LOVE the necessary work. In a world where we are wired for instant gratification, sometimes that one is tough. I forgot that it’s ok to not know everything in one day or, for that matter, ever. I forgot the beauty of now. I forgot baby steps. I forgot that imperfection also comes with many gifts.

Yes, I do want a pretty blog/website with buttons, whistles, and bells that I can manage and create without endless hours of reading and watching tutorials. And yes, I want to crank out great, meaningful pieces of art with skill and mastery. And yes, I want my writing to convey my thoughts eloquently and I want to be, you know, “there” now. I want to be in that happy place where I have it all figured out and it’s second nature instead of feeling like I’m swimming in circles.

Fortunately for me, I’ve never been much of a party girl. I can’t even hold out when it comes to my own pity party.  So I’m back on track, experiencing the good days and the opportunities-for-growth days and celebrating both. I’m choosing to live the ordinary moments with enthusiasm.

When I slow down and reflect on what my bigger vision really is, it has little to do with painting pretty pictures or creating a pretty blog. It has to do with my deeper desire to live with courage, compassion, and connection with myself and with the people of the world. It’s about finding inspiration and learning from each person I meet. It’s about expanding beyond my own fears and preconceived perceptions. It’s about inspiring others to explore their brave and creative dreams. It’s about being perfectly imperfect.

Hello, World!

Welcome friends and kindred spirits! This is my first post! Yaaaaay! I'm excited and happy to be sharing my journey and creative adventures with you. It's me. Lorelei. I am an artful and creative soul, blooming, unfolding and pushing to my personal and creative edges. And as of today, I'm also a blogger.

I set my intention for 2013 and committed to live "wholeheartedly."  So here I am with my whole heart, feeling somewhat vulnerable and uncertain about blogging and about where my creative endeavors will lead me. No regrets, no turning back, just taking one step after another,  moving forward and trusting the journey. 

Once I'm a little more comfortable about the "how tos" of posting, I'll share more of myself, my dreams, my inspirations and my story with you. I hope you'll come along and be part of my journey and share your stories as well. I have a vision for my life and my art. I don't have all the details worked out yet, but that's the beauty of  it. The possibilities are waiting to be discovered and I'm an explorer. What a perfect combination! 

For today, I want to say a big thank you to kelly rae roberts .  She is an author, artist and a possibilitarian! I just LOVE that word, POSSIBILITARIAN! Kelly has generously shared her knowledge, business tips and tricks in her e-book, Flying Lessons! Without her book, encouragement and wisdom, I'm not sure I would have spread my brave little wings and taken flight today. Her book gave me the courage I needed and pushed me out of my nest!

 I've spent most of my years stepping in and out of my (comfort zone) nest, growing my wings in different ways. The last couple of years have been filled with many adventures; some great, and some not so great, but all part of an incredible journey that I'm still traveling. It was on this journey that I serendipitously stumbled upon me, art, living authentically and being free. I will share some of those adventures later, but for today I'm enjoying my first BIG flight of the year; setting up and posting on MY BLOG! Ready? Set! Go! I feel like I should insert a "eeeeeeeek" here. :-)

I'll end here for now, with a big exhale of happy thoughts and a smile. There's more to come, so stay tuned! I hope you'll come back visit and share yourself with me.

Love and light,
Lorelei