two years

I am still a normal girl with insecurities, hairy arms and occasional bouts with hemorrhoids. I am afraid of butterflies and wear only white socks. I love being a mom, except when I have to take my sons with me to the grocery store or mention Santa's cell phone number in March. and on most days, I'd rather do some coloring than my writing practice.

it's been two years now since I started this blog, and it hasn't always been easy. yet I hope that this little place of mine has reminded you to delight in the little things, find beauty in your every day life. that it has comforted and made you laugh at times, and encouraged you to keep writing and creating through the most boring, stressful and confusing circumstances.

my mentor recently told me that God takes pleasure and great joy when I am most being myself, when I fully embrace all that I am. and I realized that it's something I'm often incapable of. so thank you. thank you for calling me a good mother every time I mistake my failures, guilt and fears for what I am. thank you for calling me a writer and help me accept this fact. thank you for delivering compounded quantities of support and kindness every day. for allowing me to connect to your lives. and for calling me your friend.

I've found my way

a walk to remember

we walked about 10 miles through fields and little villages in Kircheim, Germany. my teacher, my counselor. the clouded sky gently dappling the sun across our faces. beautiful old houses and scanty sidewalks. and big dogs barking at us.

he didn't even knock. he opened the door, climbed up the stairs and sat on the bench of the pipe organ as if he were home. and now that I think of it, I believe he really was.

his hands holding mine as we prayed in silence. I don't know what to do with my life. I don't know what to do anymore.

"I see a child sitting on the beach, happily toiling the day away building sandcastles and playing with little rocks. day after day, after day. but what this child really wants is to sail across the ocean. she's waited for a very long time. sad, and confused. but she's ready now to leave the safe shores and venture into the wide expanse of the sea. all she needs to do is to trust. and let go. her fears, all the questions. but mostly her fears."

"there's nothing to be afraid of, Irene" his voice echoed off the stone walls of the small church, "believe it or not, you're prepared for this. and remember. you are not alone."

self portrait challenge - black & white #2

"suddenly, there is inner stillness. and within that stillness there is a subtle but intense joy, there is love, there is peace."

- Eckhart Tolle, The power of Now

more Self Portrait Challenge here.

you're 5!

never in my life had I imagined that sewing buttons back on your coats in the car, buying Toy Story underwear briefs or wiping boogers off your little fingers would gift me with a moment of such intense joy and lightness I find myself momentarily stunned, and bathed in gratitude.

some days are harder than others. but you make me a better person every day. teaching me about unconditional love, about myself and about the joy of being.

I love you.

Happy Birthday.

it's always the simple things

I mostly use a black BIC M10 clic pen when I write on my journal. I've tried out different kinds over the past ten years and this is the one that feels good to me. it is cheap, fast writing, retractable (so there are no caps to lose) and I like the connection and texture of the pen on paper. it is my tool, my old companion, my voice.

a few days ago Will played with my pen while I was reading on my bed, and broke it. Sean immediately asked me to give it to him, went into the entry hall, rummaged through the junk drawer and sat at the kitchen table for a while. he came back in my room beaming at me with a face of suppressed satisfaction at something.

he had fixed it with a piece of tape.

self portrait challenge - black & white #1

Jeju Island, 2006 - me, the ocean and my Converse shoes.

more Self Portrait Challenge here.

when I am sick

I wail about the cold, tiled kitchen floor.

I get up before everyone, prepare breakfast, unload the dishwasher, feed the dog, rearrange the pillows on the sofa, tie shoes and crawl back into my bed, peaceful and absolved.

I remember my best friend in high school who would always bring my homework along with a magazine and update me with all the latest gossip. 

my thoughts are scattered and random, but I believe this is when I do my best writing.

I dream about my father whom I haven't seen in 5 years.

and I know I look awfully tired, you don't have to remind me.

when I am sick the school nurse always calls to tell me one of the boys just threw up or has a high fever and I need to pick him up.

today it was Sean.

love is in the air

more Love Thursday here and here.

happy 35

"boys, today is my birthday, which means I am the king and you have to do whatever I say, okay?"

"but Daddy, you can't be the king, you don't live in a castle"

"and you don't have a crown"

"and you can't even be a knight because you don't have a horse"

"and Mommy is the queen, and we have to do whatever she says"