A Post About Surrender, Spirituality, and My Very Personal Journey

This got long! I am not trying to impose my views, feelings, or spirituality on anyone else with this post. All I am doing is sharing my personal experience, and I decided to be very open. If you do take the time to read all of it, that already means a lot to me! Regardless, thank you for stopping by.

I grew up attending a Presbyterian church. I could probably write an entire book about my church experience, but the most important things to note were that none of my questions were answered, and it felt like no one cared a whole heck of a lot about that.

I am very literal in that regard. If I need to know the ‘why’, then I need to know it, and I can sometimes get stuck on that ‘why’, unable to move forward.

So, when I raised my hand in Sunday School asking for clarification about the Bible stories, and how we knew Jesus was real, and all of those other big questions that kids can sometimes throw out there, taking adults off-guard every time… I didn’t get real answers. I got nebulous answers like, “Faith” and “It’s about learning how to be a good person” and other answers that made no sense to my non-abstract-thinking child mind.

As I got older, I got wrapped around the “facts” presented in the Bible—all the inconsistencies, idiosyncrasies, contradictions, and all that was ultimately left unsaid. It all led up to me going through the motions of attending church. I sat, I listened, I tried to get something out of it, and often, I left feeling just as confused as I was when I walked in the door.

I certainly didn’t feel a personal connection to God, or that God even understood me, if God was even real.

It didn’t help that I attended one of the biggest churches in the area, and the politics in the church dictated that those with more wealth (to give to the church, of course) were treated like royalty, and we Average Joes were treated like the politicians of America treat middle-class folks.

In other words, we weren’t exactly ignored, because at least two of my family members were useful, until, one day, they were no longer useful, at which point—they were ignored.

I felt confused and frustrated. I had so many questions, and I didn’t understand Jesus or most of the lessons I’d spent my entire childhood and adolescence attempting to learn.

At some point, I turned my back on God.

I wrote off Christianity as a religion that was fine for other folks, but I just didn’t get it, and so it wasn’t fine for me.

In college, and for most of my young adult life, I didn’t give much thought to God. I knew that when I needed to feel centered, I went to nature. In college, I went to a nearby lakes or campgrounds in Tennessee. It’s beautiful countryside there, and it was easy to connect with Earth. It did help keep me grounded.

I also had a close friend who was Jewish, and her family took me under their wing and invited me to all of the traditional Jewish celebrations and rituals. I grew quite attached to Judaism and at one point considered converting. But I realized that while the Jews I encountered were deeply invested in their rituals and gleaned great meaning from them, I still had all these unanswered questions based on the Bible and the teachings within. Ultimately, I knew Judaism wasn’t for me, either.

I also studied Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism, searching for something deeper. None of those took, either, although I began to realize they all had common principles, and that gave me some comfort.

When I lived near Boston, I found myself driving up to the coast of Maine on a regular basis, to walk along the beach collecting shells, or sand dollars, or to sit on my bench in Kennebunkport, but again—God was really nowhere in my life.

Over time—especially after attending Pathways, and seeing miracles happen before my eyes, I felt myself creepy-crawling closer to this concept of God. I found myself feeling more open to the idea of God, but I wasn't really sure how to get a real connection to God.

I tried what most people try: I studied lots of theologies (although, I tired of that quickly, since I’m not a details person), I prayed more—which I labeled as “talking to God”, and I did become more open to visiting places where some sort of spiritual growth is fostered.

It really didn’t help me feel more connected to God, though. Something was missing, and I couldn’t tell what it was. I knew I didn’t have the type of closeness to God that some people in my life had—their connection was actually visible, almost tangible.

I knew I wanted that kind of faith, but I wasn’t sure how to make that leap.

Even more nebulous than that, though—I didn’t have a real concept of what or who I felt God really is. I didn't see God as this fatherly figure with a beard and old faded robes.

I decided to do something to try and deepen my connection to God. In December 2009, I reluctantly signed up to do the Step Beyond training through Pathways.

I had all kinds of judgments about the training. I assumed that because many of the people who did the training were Christian, there wouldn’t be much there for me. I decided that I would just go and see what it was all about.

Boy, was I in for it.

That training changed me… I owe it a separate post (which is now here), but I realized that what I really needed and wanted was God in my heart. And finally, I let Him in.

I realized that I didn’t have to share anyone else’s view of who or what God is: the important thing was taking that leap, of allowing a force outside of myself to come inside and change me from the inside out.

From that moment on… my life changed.

I started talking less, and listening more.

My own little miracle happened. I started getting messages from God. Maybe it was my own voice, maybe it was my conscience—maybe there is some other explanation for what I have heard over the past year and a half.

But I do know that if I hadn’t heard that voice, with those comforting words, or if I hadn’t heard what was being requested of me and I in turn obeyed… I wouldn’t be in nearly as good of a place as I am in on this day. I wouldn't be who I am in this moment.

For the first time, I learned what it was like to follow. To submit to something greater than me and accept my path was altogether terrifying and freeing.

I began to realize that I don't have to live perfectly, to live fully.

But, still, there was this Jesus issue.

I refused to accept Jesus as God’s only begotten son, who died for us on the cross. I figured that Jesus just wasn’t for me. I couldn’t make that leap of faith in my heart—the huge abyss between Jesus as an Important Prophet™ to… The Messiah—it was just lost on me.

And I accepted that.

(Funny how God works, though. For someone like me, it had to be one step at a time, and just allowing the presence of the Divine into my heart was a big enough leap for me at that point.)

My best friend has been a bright light in my life, and she has helped me understand what it really means to be a Christian. She helped me learn to not judge all Christians, to not shut out all Christians just because of the bad apples who wear religion like some pedestal to stand upon and use as a way to live “above” others.

And she, more than anyone, has witnessed (with great amazement and bemusement, might I add) how God has pursued me over the course of our friendship, but especially in the last 18 months.

Over the past several months, a few friends and I have been visiting various churches around the area, trying to find one that fits the best.

The one we keep going back to is Northaven United Methodist. And, while I’d like to hear more modern music and see fewer robes, all in hopes of attracting more younger adults... there is also something comforting about singing hymns I used to sing as a little girl, too.

So, this morning, when I woke up before my alarm went off, I realized that even though my friends wouldn’t be there, I was apparently going to church. I wasn’t even sure what compelled me to get out of bed on my one lazy weekend out of a long string of very full weekends.

I wasn’t sure, but I felt pretty strongly that I needed to be there. It almost felt like I had a hand at the small of my back, pushing me out the door.

Lord of The Dance was part of the gathering music. It’s a song I used to sing when I went to Christian camp as a kid, and it made me smile, hearing it again.

Then, we sang the opening hymn, Christ the Lord is Risen Today… Alleluia.

And, as is often the case at Northaven, where I feel a sense of comfort, light, and acceptance, I felt my eyes welling up as tears streamed down my face.

Even through all of the religious and political dogma of the church I grew up attending, something managed to sink in. Some things—mostly the music—still offer me great peace and comfort when I least expect it and most need it, and this morning was no different.

I almost lost myself, but I hung on and clung to what little bit of composure I had… and then the liturgy started.

I had to stop reading when we came to this part: “We live in a world where our best efforts at order and control often end in entropy and chaos.”

Order and control to entropy and chaos.

Indeed…

These words resonated so deeply in my soul that I felt a stirring I didn’t yet understand.

I realized that I’ve spent the last months staking a claim on my life and trying to assert control. Control of myself, of my life, of my actions, of my very day… and at times, it’s felt like I’ve been white-knuckling it, trying to live so “right” or to do it so “perfectly” (whatever that means) because I’ve felt so wrong for so long that anything I could do to steer it “right” was better than the alternative.

Surrender?

What’s that??

Really, I’m only beginning to learn what that means, and how valuable it is.

I got a crash-course in surrender about a minute later.

I was sitting on the end of a row, watching the children bring flowers to the front of the sanctuary to place upon the cross, still with tears streaming down my face, still not really getting what was going on in my heart.

Ok, here’s the crazy part. Brace yourself…

And then, there was Jesus, sitting on the concrete steps next to me.

He turned to look up at me and simply said, “Do ya get me now, child?”

I found myself nodding through my tears.

I sat in awe. Jesus was sitting right there, beside me. We just sat together in silence, quietly enjoying the service. Everyone else in the sanctuary faded into a woven blanket of people, and Jesus and I were the only individuals.

When the gospel was read—John 20: 1-18, about Mary Magdalene coming to the tomb to find it empty, and Jesus standing before her… it was as if I was hearing those words for the very first time.

They sank into my heart like sweet music, and I realized that I truly was hearing those words for the first time. No matter that I’d heard them and read them dozens of times before during my adolescence—it was like drinking ice cold water after walking through a lifetime of desert.

When Pastor Eric began the sermon, I kept on crying. It’s as if his words were just for me. He spoke of theology and science—which I was quite literally thinking about last night—and how it was the theologians and the scientists who drove the eventual creation of Fundamentalists and Atheists, because everyone was so wrapped around the axle about ironing out the facts, and answering those questions!

And while Fundamentalists thump on the Bible as a literal record of history… Atheists can easily shrug that off and say, “No way!” and list a thousand logical ways to disprove those words.

Was the earth created in six literal days? Well, Fundamentalists and Atheists (and plenty of in-between folks) like to argue it out.

The truth is—it happened. Somehow, the earth was created, and here we are.

Did it happen exactly the way it’s told in the Bible?

Maybe.

But the truth transcends the details.

The truth is, it’s beyond our understanding.

God is beyond our understanding.

If we could really understand God, then we wouldn't need real spirituality. God wouldn’t be God, only an idol we created in our own image.

Thank God. He gave us stories to help us understand a little. He gave us stories to give us life lessons. And He gave us the deepest truth, which cannot really be explained. But, that truth gives us faith.

The service closed with the singing of the Hallelujah Chorus, which I’ve sung so many times that I don’t need any music for it.

And then, the organist played my very favorite organ piece, which I never get to hear anymore (never say never, I guess!)… Toccata from Symphony for Organ No. 5 by Charles-Marie Widor. I’ve never felt so much joy at the end of a church service as I did today… it felt so personal, like God was speaking just to me.

My soul is full and my cup runneth over. I am born anew today—the gift of new life unexpectedly bestowed upon my heart. Words really cannot express the truth inside of me, but I feel it.

New life may not happen in the way we want it to or the way it “ought” to, or the way we think it should. New life often takes us by surprise, and today—I was taken by the surprise of a lifetime.

Did the resurrection really happen?

Maybe.

But it is truth.

And today, it became my truth.

Today—Easter Sunday—I became a believer.

“All of your pain and suffering comes from your resistance to what is.” – Dick Sutphen (summing up the teachings of Buddha)

Yes, indeed. And by trying to control my own connection with God, and by trying to keep Jesus out, when He so badly wanted in… one might say I have been quite imperfect at living spiritually.

I don’t have to have all the answers. All of my questions won’t be answered for some time, and certainly not during this life.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy my life, imperfectly, and live with surrender in my heart and God in my soul.

And with Jesus… my own Savior.

Life aches to be beautiful. All I have to do is allow it…

The Power of Vulnerability

First, from the Tao:
To be whole, let yourself break.
To be straight, let yourself bend.
To be full, let yourself be empty.
To be new, let yourself wear out.
To have everything, give everything up.


Knowing others is a kind of knowledge;
knowing yourself is wisdom.
Conquering others requires strength;
conquering yourself is true power.
To realize that you have enough is true wealth.


Pushing ahead may succeed,
but staying put brings endurance.
Die without perishing, and find the eternal.
To know that you do not know is strength.
Not knowing that you do not know is a sickness.
The cure begins with the recognition of the sickness.


Knowing what is permanent: enlightenment.
Not knowing what is permanent: disaster.
Knowing what is permanent opens the mind.
Open mind, open heart.
Open heart, magnanimity.


Second, from Brené Brown:
(You might see the length and think, "Nevermind. Not worth it." I PROMISE you, watching this video IS worth 20 minutes of your time. You absolutely will not regret it!)

The original definition of courage: To tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.

(By the way, her talk is essentially the core of what Pathways offers: learning how to believe that you are enough. You can read more about my own Pathways journey, and visit their website and go to "Events" to see what kind of trainings they offer.)

And lastly, from me:

I am finding that life makes a lot more sense when I'm not in constant struggle with my ego vs. the direction I am being led in, if only I surrender and sit still long enough to heed the path to which the Divine is guiding me.

I am authentically, beautifully and imperfectly living daily with courage, compassion, and vulnerability.

(Psst. Clearance sale on my jewelry. Enter code CLEARANCE1 at check-out to receive a whopping 25% off your entire purchase!)

Yoga: A Transformational Revelation

I’m in a constant state of soreness these days.

But, it’s a good kind of sore.

On Saturday, I went to a class that was entirely foreign to me. My therapist had actually urged me to go. She had talked about this class a couple of times before, but I managed to conveniently forget about it every time I walked out her door.

Last Thursday, I was in a very bad head space. I was stressed out about a lot of things and a lot of self-defeating tapes were on replay in my head. On the way to work, my phone rang, and it was my therapist.

Sometimes, when you’re in a bad head space, a phone call can feel like a lifeline. And that’s exactly what it felt like last Thursday—her phone call felt like a beam of light coming straight down from the heavens.

She was calling to give me details on the class, happening on Saturday.

I knew it was unavoidable this time.

I dreaded it… but I knew I had to go.

I’m not sure why I dreaded it so much. I guess it was just the fear of doing it wrong or making a fool of myself, or maybe it was just apprehension that it was going to be some hippy-dippy silliness that wouldn’t make sense to me (and, wow, how many judgments are wrapped up in that? Yeah… LOTS).

On Saturday afternoon, though, my fear subsided. I realized that I was falling back into the fear trap, which is a trap I had been stuck in for years, causing high anxiety over lots of things, like decisions I had to make, things I needed to do, and situations that were inevitably out of my control.

I’ve only recently re-discovered the fearlessness I felt as a little girl. So, once I realized what I was doing, I smiled, knowing that there were bigger issues to worry about than going to the Movement Montage class.

I felt awkward at first, because the instructor, Liz Tucker, started out with some Yoga poses. I’d never done Yoga before. I was clueless!

What if I do it wrong? What if I break something? What if—

Just breathe.

Just do it.

I took a deep breath, looked around and saw what others were doing, and I copied.

The second part was Ecstatic Dance. By the time Liz transitioned us to dancing, I was open, warm, and ready. I moved my body in every way I wanted to, and in every way it called me to move it. She played a couple of songs that have always touched me deeply for various reasons, and I felt a beautiful release. I also got a hell of a workout!

At the end, I felt more relaxed, open, warm, and calm than I’ve felt in years. It was absolutely blissful, and I can't wait to do it again.

Ever since Saturday, I’ve been obsessed with Yoga (not to mention dancing around in my living room like a wild thing). A couple of the poses Liz walked us through really inspired and moved me deeply.

I felt the beginnings of a magical awakening when we did child’s pose and pigeon pose. We did pigeon sitting upright as well as folded over, with some cool stretching movements to transition between the up and down parts.

I recognized the beauty of pigeon right away. I was struggling to keep my balance, with the muscles flexed and rigid in my folded leg. I didn’t even realize what my body was doing, but, for just an instant—my leg muscles relaxed.

And when I just let the leg be there, folded up under me like that… I felt a physical release and stretch and openness in my hips that I had never experienced. I had no idea how much I was holding in my hips, and how tight and heavy they had become. It was more transformative for me than I can possibly articulate here, but this pose is one my body has begged me to do every day since.

I have indulged, of course.

Child’s pose was very relaxing when I did it in the class, but since then, it’s become sacred. I had a breakthrough on Sunday evening, when I found myself in child’s pose on my living room floor. I stayed there for a few moments, trying different modifications of the position with my arms, head, and back, and I landed back in child’s pose with wide-spread knees, and my arms extended forward. I pressed my forehead into the carpet, and it hit me that this pose is much like a prayer pose.

And then I started crying.

I cried into the carpet for several minutes, feeling my connection to the Earth, as well as my own inner light, and feeling God in my heart in that moment.

And I prayed. I prayed about a difficult situation I was handling, and I asked questions, and then I went silent. I continued to lie there in child’s pose until I felt like moving. I have no idea how much time passed. I got up and went about finishing the laundry, and the answer I longed for came to me:

“You keep doing what you’re doing. Keep taking care of yourself, keep working on yourself, keep growing, as you already are. Let me handle them.”

The relief washed over me as I received that beautiful reminder. I don’t have to be in control of anyone or anything but me.

I have fallen in love with Yoga. I don’t know why I put off trying it for so long, but I think it had something to do with the fears I mentioned earlier.

No more fear! 

I can’t afford to go to classes all the time right now, but luckily for me, there is a wealth of knowledge available for free on the internet. And, I’ve figured out a way to get the lighting just right at home to see myself in a window, to check my positioning. For now, that will have to do.

This, I can tell, will be absolutely transformative for me. It’s already changing me, changing my body, my mind, and my attitude, and I’m only five days into it.

I look forward to tonight, so I can learn more poses.

If you practice Yoga… what’s your favorite pose?

On Extending Grace

I heard this yesterday, as part of a liturgy from a congregation to new church members:

"We will not act as though you have to earn your way in."

Beautiful... it touched my heart in a significant way regarding a situation I’m currently going through, that I am not at liberty to talk about here, but this got me thinking…

How hard do you make it for people to earn their way into your company, your organization, your circle of friends, your family, your life, your heart?

What if grace came first, followed closely by support and trust?

How judgmental are you of the actions, attitudes, emotions, situations, history, and words of others?

How would it feel to engage the world with more grace, more love, more openness?

These are things that a single statement made me think about. I have come to realize that I’ve been judgmental of a close friend of mine, for some mistakes and bad choices he has made in the past. I’ve been working hard to make him earn his way back into my life, and it hit me yesterday that he deserves my grace.

I’ve screwed up, I’ve made mistakes, I’ve done a bad job at some things, but that doesn’t make me a bad person, a bad woman, a bad volunteer, a bad employee, a bad human.

It just means I am not a robot, and I don’t have it all figured out, and that’s kind of what living is all about, isn’t it?

So, I ask you… on this, Martin Luther King, Jr. day of celebration and reflection: where can you extend more grace?

Who do you feel least deserves grace?

Chances are, that’s the person who needs it most.

Wordless Wednesday - Paula Johnson, 1975

My grandmother, Paula Johnson (Bessie Pauline Freeman Johnson). This photo was taken for her 25th anniversary with Tate & Roe. In 1950, she began working there as a secretary, and through the years, she worked her way up to Controller.

Slaying the Grief Beast

So, based on my last post, where I said I was going to be more real and authentic in my blog—all I can say is… here I go. Melissa helped give me the courage, because she is so honest and real in her writing… she doesn’t hide, and, you know… I think that’s a good policy.

The reality of my life is that I’m getting divorced.

At the moment, I actually feel okay about it. It’s not like these things happen overnight… the decision came after years of serious consideration. And I don’t want to go into details, because that isn’t fair to him, or to me. But, suffice it to say, this year has been a rough one in countless ways.

Grieving my marriage also caused a lot of other things to spring up and slap me in the face… things I’d never dealt with. A litany of choices, events, and traumatic experiences have come back to haunt me in ways I never expected.

Big things, like the death of my grandmother.

I thought I had grieved her death, but what I’d actually done is shut out all feelings I had associated with her: the good, the bad, the indifferent. I hadn’t actually grieved her passing, though.

She was a special woman in my life. A beacon of light, a pillar of strength, and the tallest five-foot-two-inch woman I’ve ever known.

And by denying all of my feelings about her death, I also denied her importance in my life.

I’ve been through a lot over the past six months, but I’ve turned a corner, and I’m on my way up. Looking at my life, and all the choices I’ve made that have led me to where I am right now, I realized that my grandmother is not only with me in spirit—she’s in my blood. The decisive, action- and results-oriented parts of me, the bold woman who travels by herself without giving it a second thought, the fearlessness I’ve recently re-discovered… those parts all come straight from Bessie Pauline Freeman Johnson.

Realizing this gave me a breath of new life. I don’t worry about missing her anymore, because I know she is within me. She is here whenever I need her, in my heart, in my veins, in my very cell structure, helping me make tough decisions and get on with living my life.

But it’s not just about moving on.

Grief is about honoring the pain, and allowing feelings to rise to the surface and be. And somehow, I have found the courage to do just that.

I’ve cried in more places than I ever thought possible: on the public benches of Kennebunkport, Maine; in Rockefeller Center, New York City; in Starbucks; on the subway; in a bead shop; in Times Square; in the privacy of my own home; in so many other places…

The tears have come,

in the most unexpected moments,

in the most unexpected ways,

the tears have come,

and they’ve shocked me into submission every time.

And I’ve written every day. I’ve written in a paper journal since I was 9 years old, but this is different—in September, I committed to write in my paper journal every single day through the end of 2010.

I’m on my fourth journal since making that commitment. Apparently I have a lot to say!

But, doing that writing has helped me so much. Sometimes, it’s helped me shake something lose that I’d been picking at in my mind for ages, but until I wrote it down, it didn’t quite make sense.

Sometimes, writing has helped me capture memories, and other times, it’s just a daily record.

And it’s all been part of my bizarre, lonely, twisted path of grief. I have been walking through it, for the first time in my entire life, actually dealing with all the things I’ve never grieved.

Grief is a strange thing, and I don’t really understand it. It is an odd and shocking beast. The only way to slay it, it seems, is with a tiny, inadequate sword, one slice at a time. It takes too long, it’s arduous, the beast keeps coming back for another round, mutating in places where you’ve made progress… it’s elusive, hiding in dark shadows and broad daylight.

I think that if you’re exhausted, all the time, then you’re probably slaying the Grief Beast properly. That is to say, you’re creating room in your heart for the good things that come after.

And that’s important, because there are many good things that come after a time of grief… and they deserve to be received with an open heart.

And my heart is open wide, for the first time in many, many years.

You know… it really is a remarkable thing to be human. The capacity to laugh, to cry, to feel such deep and intense emotions—and, when sunk at the bottom of the pit of despair, something simple and honest and real can be just the impetus for a hearty laugh that instantly transports you back to normalcy.

Being human is a treasure. Not always a pleasure, but always a very special privilege.

I am privileged to be me, right here, in this moment.

I am right where I need to be.

Tip Thursday: Make It Pop!

Have I already done turquoise and sunstone before? I have? Well, here it is again, but this time-- a different take. Different shade of turquoise (the first posting was more of a green, where these beads are definitely more blue) and a completely different feeling for the resulting outfit.


Turquoise and sunstone (or... the color turquoise and the color deep orange) go together so beautifully... and while I hadn't originally thought of making another post where I talk about this combination, when I snapped this photo I realized that this necklace and outfit have a whole different "feel" than my very first Tip Thursday, so I figured you might like to see that difference!


This necklace has become a favorite of mine. I got the inspiration for the design from a necklace I saw in a magazine, but the final piece looks nothing like my original inspiration did! I'm glad for that, actually... I always worry about literally copying someone else's design, but I find that in the end... what I create is always ultimately my own, and 100% me.


This necklace is no different. I've had these special Sarah Hornik beads for a long time, and I've actually used them in several different designs, eventually ripping them all apart to make something more special, to show them off better. I think this little necklace does the trick!


I love that it's asymmetrical... and I love that it's modern and hip without being overstated or gaudy. I've actually made another necklace in a similar style that I originally had posted for sale... but I found myself wearing it, and have since decided to keep that sucker!


This necklace can be paired with a variety of colors. I've successfully worn this necklace with a white shirt... it really pops against dark brown... but I've also worn it with a dark turquoise, and of course, this deep orange shirt, which I think is my favorite thus far.


Tip: Orange looks good on me (and other fair-skinned blonds). But, to qualify, it needs to be a deeper orange... more of a "burnt orange" if you will. (Cue every University of Texas fan holding up the Longhorn symbol now.) The more pale or bright oranges don't work on fair-skinned folks, typically... when in doubt? Go darker rather than lighter.

Sunstone's metaphysical properties: The sunstone gem is a leadership stone, and brings leadership qualities to its wearer. It aids in dispelling fears and phobias and also decreases stress and lifts depression. Sunstone promotes grounding and protection. Sunstone gems also warms the heart and allows the person to get in touch with their life force.

Turquoise's metaphysical properties: Turquoise is porous, so contact with liquids, oils or even perspiration should be avoided. Turquoise is considered a good general healer for all illnesses and excellent conductor. Induces wisdom and understanding, enhances trust and kindness. Brings the qualities of mental and spiritual clarity.

Smoky Quartz metaphysical properties: Smoky quartz is a powerful healing stone. It protects against all forms of bad luck and promises a light at the end of what may seem to be a very long tunnel. After you’ve been sick or felt depressed, it can restore energy and optimism. It also aids meditation if you find concentration difficult. Smoky quartz is one of the best healing stones!

I urge you to push your color combination boundaries in 2011! I hope to make Tip Thursday a regular feature again. 


I have missed blogging... and I am also striving to be more open and honest and REAL in my blog, which means... a little bit more personal detail might be on the way. 

I'm tired of hearing, "There's so much more to you than meets the eye!" from everyone. While I think that statement is true... I realized that I have wanted to be a little bit more WYSIWYG, or what you see is what you get. A bit more transparent, in other words... which to me, means more authentic and real. Even online. 


It's a delicate line, though. I don't want to air out dirty laundry on my blog... but I would like to give you a little glimpse into who I really am, if for no other reason than because I need to do it, for myself.


Happy Holidays, everyone... and thank you to everyone who has purchased jewelry from me in 2010! You've made it a memorable year for me, and you've helped me at times stay afloat financially... but the biggest, greatest joy I get is seeing a face light up when they've put on just the right piece of jewelry. It's a special kind of connection, when a woman realizes that something I've created enhances her own beauty.


I'll be back for some end-of-year musings...

Wordless Wednesday - Kennebunkport Shore at Night