Waking up in Buda | 33 Sunrises x Day 9

Waking up in Buda at Stagecoach Park
This morning, few words, mostly pictures, of which Emiliana took the first and last. 

Since this is our ol' stomping ground we stopped by Summermoon Coffee off Main St for a "night-night milk" (steamed milk and one pump of vanilla :) and a topochico for me. 

We marveled at the vines crawling down the trees - so unusual that the last half of the trees weren't covered, no? We saw a tree rotted out and wondered what would have caused such damage. We sat down by a creek and watched leaves float down. We read Caps for Sale over and over and looked up into the tall trees imagining we saw monkeys, too. We only saw the sun. Emiliana wanted to take it's picture so I gave her the 6 lb camera to hold. I promised I'd play when the timer went off.... 

Would love to have "Waking up to ______" special guests. I'm letting that thought ruminate... 

Lovely day to you, my friend. Hope you can take a brief moment to look up at the trees, the sun, the sky, too. It's always there awaiting for us to see it's beauty... 

 

Waking up at Mozarts | 33 Sunrises x Day 8

Waking up at Mozarts Coffee
It is impossible to know what this whole "Waking Up" series will become.

Emiliana's fever finally broke and I thought "Wouldn't it be lovely to just sit on a blanket, her and I, as the sun rises over Barton Springs? Watch those swimmers that have come for 20+ years??" When Emilia was a baby I loved taking her, we'd laid out a blanket and picnic. So I planned to be out the door by 6am. Planned. We packed the car, made it out the door by 6:30am and as we're walking up to Barton Springs, gear and blankets and books in tow, she looks me in the eye and says "Mama, I don't want to go." This girl LOVES water so the next best option would have to do: hang low somewhere close by. That wasn't my intent. I wanted to go to Barton Springs. Children teach you first and foremost that you have absolutely no control, over them or their reaction to the events. When they throw fits or don't like the agenda you have two options: stomp your feet too, raise your voice and see who wins, OR genuinely listen to them, get down to their level and, as a thinking, feeling, heart-filled individual you can try to understand their perspective. (Perhaps no different than how to treat a co-worker, housemate, or spouse? :) 

I only held my breath that Mozarts would suffice. 
I don't remember the first time I came to Mozarts but it feels like the first time, every time, I love this place so. No doubt because it is by the water. It's simple. Picnic tables outside and inside. They've done renovations to the inside and now even carry Amy's Ice Cream. We shared a bagel and I got my two half- caff shots of espresso with a pump of mocha (while salivating over the delicious pastry and cake-filled cases). From the books and paper we brought, we learned all about the letter "D" big D, little d, dogs and ducks. It's been so inspiring watching Emilia's eagerness to learn. It's even more fun to get down to her level and examine the little speck of a leaf she'll find or the "xo" etched on the table... 

Trying to find the perfection, even in the "Plan B".  

 

Waking up in 80 sq ft | 33 Sunrises x Day 7

If all had gone according to plan, I would have woken up in NYC this morning, teaching a class on vulnerability and creativity for the House of Margot Blair's Creative Workshop. For several reasons it was postponed.

So I have a credit to my Southwest Airlines account and I woke up exactly where I was supposed to be...

The smaller of 2 windows in this room is just above our heads and the cool air cascades over the window sill onto us. This is uncharacteristically cool for an Austin summer, so much so I forget I am waking up in a hot-as-hell Texas summer with the air conditioning-like feel pouring over us. The only way I know the window is indeed open is the birds. Oh those swallows we've befriended over the last 6 months.

I've been renting out a room from a local food blogger since December. It's been an interesting last 6 months and I'm grateful for the home she has opened to Emiliana and I. Before I arrived in the north Austin area (I've always been a south Austin gal) after moving from a 2400 square foot home, I gave almost every household item I owned away, to Goodwill or family and then the whole wardrobe thing... another blog post. Another day. Between giving 80% of my clothes away and not buying any new items for almost another 6 months... Yeah. This. I speak so lightly on matters that have transformed the very core of who I am over the last year and a half. Another blog post. Another day.

This morning I lay next to my sick baby, grateful for the wisdom of my older sis who is always a phone call away. With only my belongings in this home being the ones that are in my room or packed away in boxes in the garage, I've spent the last 36 hrs holed up inside-giving sips of water to the little darling, brushing the hair off of her warm face, reading books about Ten Apples Up on Top and I am reminded how much I love to be her Mommy. 

I have 3 weeks remaining in this room. I don't know where I'm going next. I have a book and a publication and a cookbook with my sisters in the works and ideas, so many ideas about starting a "We are Creators" campaign and bringing pianos to the parks of Austin as a more permanent exhibit. [If you have any interest in collaborating on any of these thoughts, do connect! :] 

But all I want to do in this moment as Emiliana lays sleeping next to me, is stay. Here. Next to her as she heals. 

So I'm grateful. This morning I am so grateful that even though today I won't make a dime, I am laying next to Emiliana Rae, my sunshine. Tuesdays are Mommy days. Good morning world. 

Waking up | 33 Sunrises x Day 6

I was getting ready to head out the door when I got a call from John telling me Emiliana had a high fever. Nearly speeding down I-35 at 6:15am this morning I watched a most spectacular sun rise, only not with my baby (she is on the upswing, btw). I was too lost in thought to take a photograph. This morning, so many words... 

London proves it. I heard a news story about the 3 recent attacks. We have entered into a new age. It is no longer just a battle on our soil, against our property. The war we fight has entered our minds, is a battle waged against our own minds and hearts. 

We must question. The devices that measure our steps and our heart rates and our music and our phone calls and our entertainment — it is all based upon platforms that manage and collect data, but collect data for what purpose? Who sees it? What is the information we are being fed? Is it not possible that all of these devices, all software if collecting our data can also purpose an agenda?

Yesterday British Prime Minister Theresa May spoke about it. ISIS has been known to infiltrate our social media. They connect to our youth, to those without a purpose to those struggling to find their way, by providing them a community, a supposed safe place, to feel heard, to connect, to be understood and too oft, to their demise and now our own. 

We cannot know if the messages in a mere photograph in our TUMBLR feed or a random photo on IG is not a rabbit hole towards JIHAD. Surely we would be wise enough, aware, astute enough to not fall, to recognize before it is too late, but when one has little to live for, one is willing to fall, perhaps even to die, for less. 

“Not me” we scream. “It can’t be” and we turn a blind eye to our youth that spend hours upon hours on social media. We get our entire identity from life and followers, so it is a no-brainer, pure genius that the organization that teaches human beings “your life is worth sacrificing” is also recruiting where our youth, where we, as an entire population reside. 

There is only one way to fight back on this front, two if we could be so bold, three if we want to begin to make a difference. Number one, shut off your devices and live. Number two, connect. Look up from your device and say hi to the person next to you on the street, in your cubicle, in line at the grocery store. Number three, know who you are, outside of a heart icon, beyond the publishing of an IG story. When was the last time you really lived the story instead of trying to figure out how to tell it? LIVE now. 

We would be shocked if we knew just how many of us have been contact by ISIS, trying to make us into someone or something we are not.

The psychology behind the attachment to our devices is becoming our undoing, as a society, as individuals.  Would you recognize a voice other than your own, in your own mind? Would you be able to tell the difference between your own thoughts and those emanating from another? How is this question even relevant today? 

What do we reach for, when we are hurting, physically, emotionally? How are we dealing with the troubles of our hearts, our lives? What are we calling our gods, our media, our medicine? What soothes us? A pill? Facebook? Sonic binge? It is all we know, perhaps how we were raised, all we’ve ever known. 

We wonder why we say our heart aches or breaks, perhaps it's because we physically feel that. The more we sit with emotions inside of us- the more we acknowledge them as not defining us rather, us as an observer- the easier it is to feel exactly where/what emotions arise. I’ve noticed I carry a lot of stress in my neck and shoulders, which in turn causes my neck/jaw to hurt, whenever I’m being unwavering about something. 

"Life is pain, Your Highness. Anyone that says differently is selling something.” (Princess Bride :)

The other day when I was upset, so in my own funk I wasn’t aware Emiliana was watching me, she came up to me and put her little hand on my face and said “Just take a breaf, mama. Take a breaf.” And that made me burst into tears because that’s what I say to her when she’s upset. “Just breathe little one.”

What if we gave ourselves permission to feel anger, to feel bitterness, hatred, disappointment, but in the same breath acknowledged that even though those valid emotions arise in us, they do not define us. We are not them. 

This morning, let’s take in a big deep life-giving breath, raise our arms towards the sky and count our blessing that we are alive. Today, we have control over one thing and on thing only: our thoughts and attitude towards what happens around us. 

Lovely, let me tell you a secret.... in case you already forgot. 

You are light. You are light. You are light. Go on and shine!