celebration
I am STOKED to announce that I’ve got my first ever solo show booked, and YOU ARE INVITED!
It is at the Galleria located at the Grand Theatre in Williamstown, NJ, and is timed to coincide with the theatre’s run of MATILDA: The Musical.
Needless to say, I am super happy about this turn of events, and super excited to select the works I’m going to hang (which will naturally be for sale)!
I mean, technically, we aren’t ready, but at least we’ve decided (a) when we are leaving to go to my cousin’s daughter’s wedding, (b) where we are staying, (c) what we are wearing, (d) what the gift is, and (e) when we are coming home again.
And we’ve picked a wedding card. For the first time ever, we are using one of MY cards. I know that might sound strange, since I’ve been turning art into greeting cards for almost two years now, but it really is the first time we are using one for ourselves. This is, in part, because I adore greeting cards and often shop for them everywhere I go (especially if I’m in locations with museums or independent stationers and a good card assortment).
Sonnet 116 by W. Shakespeare
Shall we to the marriage of true minds admit impediments? Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or threatens with the remover to remove. Oh no! It is an ever-fixèd mark that looks on tempests and is not shaken. It is the star to every wandering bark . . .
This will be the card that goes with (okay, contains) our guest. This card is available at Olde Pear Primitives in Cape May, NJ, and at MADE. Artisan Marketplace in Woodbury. It, and all of its friends, are also available in my online shop, which you can access using the button below!
And hey! If you are interested in signing up for my mailing list, where you will get information on new products, what is happening, plus more. Just click on over to my “home” page and fill in the form!
Morris and I got away for a six-day vacation (which included Memorial Day weekend in there), and we visited San Francisco. We stayed at the Cornell Hotel de France on Bush Street, right near the corner of Powell Street (which is a cable car route). It was a beautiful hotel, and we enjoyed our stay and our breakfasts there. We flew out there suuuuuuuper early on Thursday morning, then spent some time eating a nice lunch in North Beach and shopping in Chinatown.
We spent Friday afternoon at Alcatraz—I can’t entirely describe it as a pleasant visit, since the place is horrid, but the audio tour was fascinating. And even though I was having some health issues (thanks, rheumatoid arthritis!) and was using a cane, the whole thing was made doable since the ferry staff allowed me to sit rather than standing in line, and there was a tram and an elevator available on Alcatraz Island, all of which made it navigable. And after we returned to Fisherman’s Wharf, we lucked into a free lunch. Don’t tell me there’s no such thing—we both had an appetizer and an entree, plus a (non-alcoholic) beverage, which would have rung up around $75, in exchange for our opinions on the food, service, and pricing. (Okay — it wasn’t 100% free, since we left a nice tip for the server, but still!)
On Saturday, we hopped into a van with 10 other customers for a day tour with Incredible Adventures, during which we visited Muir Woods and two wineries near Sonoma, the town of Sonoma, and Sausalito. Jill, our driver and guide, was phenomenal (and an excellent driver), and we seriously loved Muir Woods and the Robledo Family Winery, and we were thrilled to meet up with my sweet friend Tanita Davis (author extraordinaire) and her husband, David, while we were in the town of Sonoma, but the whole day was really wonderful!
Sunday, we went to Golden Gate Park to visit the Japanese Tea Garden. We caught a tour run by a volunteer from San Francisco City Guides (free tours run by volunteers out of the SF Public Library, donation optional to keep the program running). Our guide was Jay Streets (accompanied by his goldendoodle, Norton), and he knew SO MUCH about the history of the gardens and about the Hagiwara family, Japanese immigrants who did much to improve the gardens and who ran the Japanese Tea House until they were interned in camps during WWII. The stories and details were phenomenal, and put things in historical context, reminding us of the dangers of not studying history.
The first two photos above were taken in the Japanese Tea Garden, and the third was taken outside the De Young Museum.
That night, we went out for a really nice dinner at Café Claude, where we sat at the bar for dinner (we made a late decision and got reservations, but for the bar). We had fabulous cocktails, a good meal, and a really enjoyable time listening to the live jazz trio that was playing in the bistro. Definitely a nice night out.
The next morning, we joined a scheduled tour of Chinatown with Linda Lee of All About Chinatown tours. She came highly recommended by one of Morris’s tai chi students, and she was decidedly entertaining and knowledgeable, though I have to add a caveat that there were parts of the tour that made me feel a bit uncomfortable, since we strolled through a few groceries as if we were peering into an aquarium or something (“look at the ‘weird herbs’ and the live frogs!”). We finished with lunch at a local restaurant, including dim sum and a few other dishes.
Tuesday was our last day in San Francisco, but since we had a red-eye leaving around 11 p.m., we had a full day to spend in town. We kept it super low-key, first at Joy’s Place on Post Street for coffee (excellent lattes, excellent music, no rush at all), and then at the Palace Hotel for cocktails (scotch for Morris, rosé bubbles for me). We visited some other places as well, but it was an easy day and one of favorites.
CHEERS!
Cocktails at the Palace Hotel
It has taken me just over a week to get around to writing about it because I’ve been pretty wiped out since getting back, but I’m finally getting my feet back under myself.
I am delighted to share the two images below, both of which were taken by Genevieve at Olde Pear Primitives in Cape May, New Jersey this week. The first one is a watercolor seascape that I painted, which is nestled with some jewelry, and the second is a watercolor sailboat, playing nicely with some soap and bath bombs.
I am tickled every day, knowing that my artwork is available in this marvelous shop in Cape May. And, of course, I have art tambourines available at Mystic Gingery Collective in Blackwood, NJ, and also at the Grand Galleria in Williamstown, NJ.
This weekend, I will be painting murals on the walls of the main studio at Peace Love Yoga in Glassboro. Pictures to follow—though I am really glad that I’ve been promised some helpers, because I’ve been having a few joint issues lately (thanks, rheumatoid arthritis!), so I can use the assistance.
Next weekend, I will be dropping off artwork at MADE. Artisan Marketplace in Woodbury, New Jersey, which will (hopefully) be open to the public starting in May. All while making art and planning what to take with me on May 19th, when I will be at the Decompress South Jersey event at Will-Moor School of Gymnastics up in Mount Laurel.
A 5” square heart collage in spring colors.
And now, to get dressed for tonight’s seder with family. Happy Passover! And to those of you celebrating the Christian holidays, Happy Easter!
Technically, this was still 54, since it was taken about 10 days ago
On Monday, I turned 55. There are days when I feel it, and days when I don’t. Most days I don’t feel my age—I don’t think about it at all, and I essentially exist out of time. And though I will always answer truthfully when asked my age (or round up — I know, it’s backwards), I usually feel somewhere in my late 30s. Birthdays and mirrors can therefore be a bit of a shock.
This year was an unusual birthday celebration, since I am back in South Carolina for at least another week, and therefore away from my sweetheart. I woke up to a birthday card he’d sent along with me (and another from my aunt, who came to offer respite care for me so I could get home last week for my own medical treatment). I woke up to a text from one of my best friends, and another from my daughter who is overseas in the Peace Corps. My husband sang “happy birthday” to me on the phone, and did a marvelous job in each of the four keys he chose for his rendition. My parents wished me a happy birthday with a card and a gift. I spoke by phone with my other daughter, heard by text from my brother , and got email photos of the best hand-made birthday card from my nieces and nephews. And there were scores of messages on FB and other social media.
All in all, it was a good day. And I realize I have posted about several good—even great—days lately. And I got to thinking that all this good news doesn’t give you a true idea of things.
Because, in fact, yesterday might have been okay, but it was not actually a great day.
I am, at heart, a homebody, and I have been away from home too long. I would be ever so much more chill about that if Morris was here with me, but of course he is home with our cat, teaching tai chi and qigong classes and largely fending for himself (though I did manage to cook three dishes for him while I was home for a couple days last week, so he’d have home-cooked food). I’ve been here in South Carolina for five weeks (so far), with only 2-1/2 days at home. Plus I was away from home for two weeks in late January/early February to visit other family in North Carolina. It’s been wearing. It’s been frustrating. It’s been lonely, even.
And I share this in hopes that you will realize that all the “wins” you’ve been seeing are not the whole of my story. Those wins are real, and are—in the case of having my cards and art in Cape May—quite literally a dream come true.
But there’s a lot that isn’t going well just now. I feel untethered. I miss my husband and my house and my cat. I miss my studio and my art supplies. I miss the ability to play music or watch what I want on TV, if that’s what I want to do. I miss cooking dinner. I miss my light-colored walls, miss being able to burn incense if I want, miss setting my own schedule each day. I mean, I set a schedule here, but it’s very much dictated by the demands of my father’s feeding tube.
So, yes, I’m excited to have artwork on display in the Monroe Township Public Library in Williamstown, NJ. That’s a big win! What I didn’t tell you is that I’ve had two recent instances where my work wasn’t accepted, one with a private entity and one with a state organization. And yes, I’m thrilled about having my work listed on Fine Art America, and represented in The Grand Galleria in Williamstown, and at Mystic Ginger Collective in Blackwood. But so far, I don’t believe anything of mine has sold at those locations. And yes yes yes, I am over the moon at having my greeting cards and artwork in Olde Pear Primitives in Cape May, but of course the store hasn’t opened yet, and also that niggling voice of “what if” keeps coming to whisper in my ear. I do the best I can to ignore it, of course, but still . . .tl; dr
All of which is to say—and if you are still here and reading this, thank you—that I appreciate you being here, and want you to know that my life is just as messy as anyone else’s. Yes I’ve had wins, which have been on display, but there are a bunch of other losses along the way, both business-wise and on a personal level. So please know that if you are struggling, I see you. If you have been reading my public-facing stuff and thinking “wow, she’s got it so good”, this post is to remind you that public-facing stuff isn’t the full extent of any life. And that life is inherently messy. I know I’ve sometimes read posts by other people and felt a bit envious that they are succeeding, especially if it’s during a time when I feel like I’m . . . not.
But here’s the thing: I believe that we can all succeed. Yes, at the same time. I believe that life isn’t a competition. That we all deserve to feel safe and accepted and loved. That we all deserve to take whatever actions are necessary for us to achieve that. That your success does not mean that I have failed in some way, or am less-than (and that my successes don’t take away from or diminish yours in any way). I believe that we all deserve to be happy, and that we can choose happiness for ourselves, and then choose it yet again.
If you are a long-time reader here, you know I believe that we can choose to be happy. And you also know that I understand that we all have what I call fallow periods, where we aren’t necessarily getting a ton accomplished. In fact, I wrote a post about fallow times, and about how important self-care is during those time periods, and it was just what I needed to remind myself of today. And please know that part of what I’ve been doing (and you’ve been seeing) is me celebrating my wins, whether they are large or small. Because celebration goes with gratitude, and all of that raises your vibe or your energy and can lead to a happier life. Here’s my post from last year on “Six ways to celebrate the little things.” It’s me choosing abundance, something I strongly encourage you to do, even though (as I wrote here) an abundant life doesn’t mean things are always easy.
So this is me, raising my glass to you. Here’s to another trip around the sun, and to choosing happiness, self-care, celebration, and abundance.
Whether the weather is springlike or not, the equinox will take place tomorrow at 5:58 p.m., and Spring will officially be sprung. It’s the season of new growth, and of pollen and allergies. The season of renewal, and the season that can leave some people feeling a bit flat or stuck. Today, I’m sharing with you four ideas to take action on to celebrate spring:
Not to jump on Marie Kondo’s train (although I bet it’s a really tide, neatly-folded train), but you can start by clearing some clutter. My personal policy is (and has been for the past seven years) to “get rid of everything that does not bring pleasure, beauty, or purpose into my life”. You can read six tips on how to clear clutter here. Clearing out the stuff that you no longer like, use, or want makes space for energy to circulate inside your space! You can read more about this idea in my post from October. Once you have taken out the trash, donated the stuff you no longer care to keep, and followed the other steps in my earlier post, you can start finding good ways and places in which to store your stuff. If your clothes all have homes in closets or drawers, then they won’t be strewn about your bedroom or home. It makes it simpler to find what you want when you want it, and it also reduces the amount of visual clutter in your life. If you get totally overwhelmed or are stumped with how to start in any given room, I always recommend clearing the top of the largest flat surface in the space—doing so gives your eyes a place to rest and makes the whole room look tidier in a hurry. Don’t believe me? Go into your dining room and make sure the table is cleared of stuff that doesn’t belong there (clothing, papers, crafts, shopping bags, etc.) Or go into a bedroom and clear anything that doesn’t belong on the bed off of it and make the bed. In your kitchen, clear off the island or (if you don’t have one) the longest stretch of counter space you have. Having a place in each room where your eyes can rest and not be driven wild by clutter will make you feel more relaxed and ready for spring.
No, not the movie.
If it’s not a blizzard, tornado warning, or thunderstorm where you are, get outside. Some things you can do while you are there:
Take a walk in your yard or neighborhood, and keep an eye out for signs of spring. Count how many robins you spot, or look for whatever is just starting to bloom. For some of you, that might be azaleas or even roses, for others, it might be snowdrops. But look for signs of renewed life.
Plant something. Doesn’t matter if it’s a full garden or a single plant or shrub. Spending time outside and digging in the garden (or cleaning it up) is valuable exercise, both physically and mentally.
Do a quick maintenance and upgrade assessment of your yard and building(s). Are there things that need to be repaired or replaced? Do you need to get your gutters cleaned? Does your apartment door need sprucing up? Is your garden shed in need of a new roof or a lock on the door? What about your balcony or garden area? Do you need to buy or replace pots? Remove dead stuff? Plant something new? Spring is a great time for making a list of the projects you want to get to during the warmer weather.
An easy way to celebrate spring is to brighten the corner where you are. (And yes, I realize there’s an old hymn by Ina D. Ogden of that name, and the pun or wordplay was intentional.) You don’t have to put ginormous bunny and egg clings on your windows (though of course you can, and if you have little kids, they may really like that); you can simply add some spring touches inside and outside your home.
Outside ideas:
a new welcome mat; it doesn’t have to have a spring theme, but if your old one is looking sad beyond repair, this time when all those winter boots (and salt and cinders) are done is a good one to put out something new
a cheerful garden flag, if that’s how you roll. Could be spring-themed, or just something new and cheery.
a new birdbath or bird feeder, if you like having lots of avian friends
a new wreath or other decoration for your door; note: it doesn’t just have to be your front door. You can also perk up your door into your garage or laundry room or a side door, if that’s what you usually use to go in and out.
Inside ideas:
Once you’ve tidied up your front hall or foyer or sunporch, consider adding a seasonal touch; could be a small, cheerful birdhouse or a basket of eggs; could be a new piece of artwork to sit on a table or shelf, or hang on the wall to welcome your guests.
Take a good look at the art and photographs in each room. Do you still like the item? Do you still like its frame? If the answer to either question is no, consider replacing what you don’t like. If the answer is yes, assess whether it needs a good dusting. Wipe the frame with a soft, dry cloth, starting at the top and working your way down the sides, finishing with the bottom. If the piece has glass over it, decide whether the glass needs cleaning. Do not spray any cleaner on the glass. Instead, lightly spray a microfiber cloth with water or an ammonia-based cleanser (if you prefer, though water usually works fine), and carefully clean the glass surface by rubbing gently in circles, then drying the glass with another section of microfiber cloth. You may want to take the art or photograph down from the wall and lay it flat to do this.
Consider whether you would like to swap some of your art around to offer yourself a new perspective, or whether you want or need some new art in your space to brighten things up. (And if you do, consider giving my items a look? I’ve got tambourines and collages, paintings, and greeting cards here, plus prints and other items available at Fine Art America.)
You guys. Exciting things are happening for my art business. Like, REALLY exciting things.
In just a few weeks' time, you will be able to purchase my greeting cards and some of my original artwork at the new location of Olde Pear Primitives in Cape May, New Jersey. To say that I'm excited is a complete understatement. Seriously. To have my work in Cape May, and at a business that supports local artists, is one of those "someday" business dreams of mine coming true.
More info to come, but in the meantime, ALL THE CONFETTI!
As I mentioned briefly in my most recent newsletter, the gap between the holidays can feel like a weird no-man’s land of time. I even shared a funny cartoon on Facebook about how from the 1st through 26th of December, people are really into the holidays, and then from the 27th to 31st, then are full of cheese and unsure what day of the week it is. Funny, but it can also be disorienting.
I find it helpful to look at these sorts of times and spaces as fallow periods. Just as many farmers rest their land from time to time by plowing their fields under and leaving them unplanted (fallow), many people run into fallow periods in life. It’s super common among writers, who are between projects, or stymied and doing no writing. It applies to other creatives as well (actors, singers, artists, etc.).
Fallow periods are terrific times to engage in nurturing acts and self-care. These include things like rest, meditation, going to the movies, reading books, visiting a museum, getting out in nature, and so forth. It’s a great time to do things that fill your inner well or feed your spirit. All those things give you something to draw from and help to sustain you when it’s time to be creative again.
So if you are off work or school this week, or somewhat at loose ends due to travel or houseguests, and you cannot stick with your “regular routine”, my suggestion is to treat this time period as a fallow period. Take a few deep breaths and a few minutes to figure out what acts of self-care will make you feel better. If you need some suggestions past what I listed above, you can check my post from earlier this month on six ways to celebrate the little things, since many of the small celebrations double as self-care or well-filling activities.
In just about a week, it will be New Year’s Eve. How will you celebrate?
This is not representative of what our neighbors will shoot off, but still . . .
There are several ways of celebrating that get lots of press and publicity: pay to attend a fancy party (or a not-so-fancy one), with food and a DJ and too many drinks and free hats; go out somewhere to stand in the streets with strangers and wait for balls to drop or fireworks to explode (some of our neighbors set them off nearby, so we don’t really have to go outside—though there have been a couple times we had to wake up for them); go to or host a party in your home and watch a TV countdown with friends. Maybe it involves banging pots and pans outside at midnight, or sparklers, or waking the neighbors with your fireworks.
Then there are the quieter celebrations: out to dinner with your spouse and maybe some friends, then home before it gets too late, or a nice, quiet evening at home. Possibly with some champagne or prosecco (the leftovers are great for mimosas on New Years Day).
Well, I have a bit of a superstition. This is not a long-held superstition, nor is it one passed down by generations of family members (unlike the "shoes on a table is bad luck" thing, which is TOTALLY the result of generations of my mother's family). It's one that I developed myself over the past ten years or so, and it is a simple concept:
I believe that what you do on January 1st sets the tone for the year. Therefore, if I want to be a person who writes and paints a lot, I need to make time to do some writing and painting on January 1st. If I want to cook more, I need to cook something. ("Something" on New Year's day used to mean a pork roast and sauerkraut, based on long-held and family-bred superstitions, again from my mother's family, but may switch to ribs, since my sweetheart doesn’t eat pork — unless it’s bacon or ribs.) If I want to read more, I need to read. If I want to be a decent housekeeper, my house has to be clean by then, and I need to do a wee bit of tidying on that day as well. If I want to maintain the morning routine/ritual I’m working to establish for myself, I for sure have to practice it on New Year’s Day. That means yoga, meditation, journaling, and the aforementioned reading. If I want to spend time with my husband, I need to do that, too.
It's all very simple in theory, and not necessarily difficult in practice, but it does take being really conscious of choices on January 1st. Basically, it can make for a busy day. And, I suppose, it means being really conscious of choices on the 2nd, and 3rd, and 4th as well, though these aren’t resolutions as much as intentions. Nevertheless, come next Tuesday, my house will be clean and relatively tidy, and I will be starting my day with my morning routine and moving on from there.
Of course, come February, there will be Chinese New Year to celebrate (Year of the Pig!), and then there’s the start of the US school year in September, and the start of the new year in Judaism (Rosh Hashanah means “head of the year”, if you didn’t know that), which comes at the end of September next year. And I’m pretty sure there are some other new years in there as well, depending on your belief system.
So tell me: What will you do to celebrate the new year?
As always, if you are interested in subscribing to my weekly newsletter, which is designed to share tips on things you can do to live a more positive life, you can do that here.
It’s been a busy week here. Of course, that’s largely because we had contractors in the house on Tuesday, finishing up some work in our hall bath, and I needed to spend time at the Post Office, mailing things to relatives and friends at a distance. And I’ve been busy working on a commission as well as taking a new art class and working on some new ideas.
This is from an 1851 book called “A primary astronomy”: isn’t it marvelous?
And, of course, the 21st was Solstice. The shortest day of the year for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, the longest for those south of the equator. It’s lovely to me to think of welcoming the long dark of night on Solstice, and to know that we are slowly turning our way back into the Sun even as the temperatures become colder. It’s also good to light the candles or lights as a way of keeping the dark at a distance. Though with the beautiful now-full moon in the sky, there is quite a lot of light right now, even at night.
How about you? Do you celebrating the turning of the year? Maybe with some hot tea, hot chocolate, or something else you consider warming, like whiskey or wine? Do you head to the kitchen to make slow food like stew or soup or chili, or to bake things you might not bother with in sunnier months? Light a fire in the fireplace or wood stove? Do you cozy up with a cat and a lap blanket? Curl up with a good book? Pick up your knitting, quilting or other handiwork? All of these are excellent ways to honor and celebrate the season without venturing out into the cold or the wet.
Here in New Jersey, I’ve been celebrating the turning of the season with most of the things listed above, with the exception of fires (no fireplace) and quilting. And my knitting has been a bit limited by painful joints in both thumbs, compliments of my rheumatoid arthritis. But it’s meant pleasant days and nights for me lately. And it hasn’t escaped my notice that a lot of what I’m describing is related to the Danish notion of hygge, which I referenced in passing in a post I wrote last December. Expect to hear a bit more about it as we move into January.
This month, I’m focusing on celebrating. I know I’ve talked about how to celebrate the small things. And I think I’ve discussed the WHY of celebrating, at least a bit, but I want to talk about that a bit more.
Well, for one thing, it is a means of being mindful. If you remember to celebrate something—whether it’s something big like a wedding anniversary, or something small like finding your favorite brand of mustard is finally back in stock (yes, actual example from my life)—you are at that moment in the moment. And if all we have is now, and now is a celebration, well, that is a good thing.
For another, it’s a means of promoting gratitude. And as I posted back in November, gratitude helps to create abundance. And abundance may just give you more to celebrate, creating a wonderful circle of positive energy swirling about in your life, and isn’t a circle of positivity something to celebrate and be grateful for? Because just as we talk about people’s lives “spiraling out of control” or “on a downward spiral”, when they are living in chaos or negativity (which is negative energy), we can put ourselves into a happier spiral of positive energy. And it doesn’t mean you have to ignore or avoid any of the “bad” things in life; it just requires you to see and acknowledge and, yes, celebrate the good.
This morning, I celebrated selling some art and wrote out a check to them for the Jersey Shore paintings that sold during The Most Wonderful Time event that I hosted back on December 2nd, bringing my total donations to the organization (so far) from art sales to $60. I still have two pieces left, including my favorite of the entire series, Jersey Shore #7 (I love the little penciled sandpiper footprints).
The two pieces you see above are all that remains of seven pieces I did in my Jersey Shore series. I created the series last fall after spending a lovely weekend at the shore with my husband, and in order to celebrate the creation of those pieces, I promised to donate 25% of the price to Clean Ocean Action, an organization dedicated to cleaning up the beaches in New Jersey and to protecting the shoreline by opposing offshore blasting and drilling, as well as working to reduce the amount of plastic put into the waterways in the first place.
I have to tell you that I had a happy little celebration here this morning. I smiled as I wrote out the check to Clean Ocean Action, grateful for the sales, grateful that there is money in my business’s checking account that allows me to write the check, and grateful that I am able to help such a worthy cause, even if it is a rather small donation. I smiled as I wrote a note in a pretty notecard, and sealed and addressed the envelope, and said a little “thank you” to the Universe for it all.
So yes, a donation to something you support is a form of celebration. I’m sure you make donations, whether it’s to a religious organization, a charitable organization, or a political one. And I’d encourage you to think of those as a form of celebration. And to feel the joy and gratitude of being privileged to write that check, hand over some cash, or send a donation online.
Ideas for big occasions, like birthdays, anniversaries, retirements, b’nai mitzvot, graduations, and baby showers (major life events) are super well-known and well-documents. Throw a party (expected or surprise). Give gifts to the celebrants, make a toast, send a greeting card (thoughtful is best). Go out to dinner with family or friends. Make a video honoring the person or people who are being honored. Set up a powerpoint with photos. Hire a DJ or a clown. Have a barbecue or pool party.
But I’m a bit more interested in how to celebrate smaller events. And even what counts as “smaller” is a matter of interpretation. A promotion at work, or getting a new job. Making your first sale in your new business. Usually these things are marked with cheers, going out to dinner, and/or having a celebratory drink.
What about those still smaller events? Meeting a deadline (even a self-imposed one); finishing a project — even if it’s an intermediate goal (like finishing writing a chapter in a manuscript); sending an email or letter that was difficult for you; actually going to the gym; doing that piece of adulting that you find difficult, whatever it might be.
Now that’s what I’m talking about.
It’s far more common for us all to just turn to the next thing on our list and push ahead without marking them at all. And at the end of the day, we feel tired and depleted. But there’s another way: a way where you take a few minutes to honor your accomplishment and celebrate it.
Here are six ways you can celebrate the small things:
Get yourself a cup of tea, a nice cup of coffee, a cup of cocoa, or a good piece of chocolate, and take a few minutes to savor whatever your treat might be.
Reward yourself with some self-care: take salt bath; take a short walk (preferably outside).
Schedule some self-care that involves others, like a massage, a haircut, etc.
Go see a movie or watch something you’ve been saving on Netflix.
Journal about it, so you have something in your gratitude journal for the day.
Buy yourself some flowers or some ice cream or a small cake on the way home.
I realized this evening that I said a lot of things about celebration in the newsletter that I sent out yesterday. That’s because it’s the new theme for the emails I’ll be sending out this month. And then it occurred to me that a bunch of my blog readers might not be subscribed to my newsletter. (Which you can fix right here, if you want a weekly dose of positive living.) It’s something I wanted to share with you in the meantime.
Here’s a bit of what I said:
This has been a year, y'all. You know I mean it since I don't even say "y'all" all that often. I know I've mentioned my father having cancer, and we are moving out of 2018 hoping he's left that behind for good. That is something truly worth celebrating. But there have been other things, some of which aren't mine to tell, that linger on, and losses, like that of my husband's wonderful cousin. If you knew Selwyn, I'm pretty sure you liked and admired him, and if you didn't, then believe me when I say that you would have. It is easy to celebrate his life, even as losing him is no fun.
I want to talk about celebration as a thing we do, or maybe should do, daily, rather than on a grand scale. Ringing the bell to end chemo or radiation. Cheering for a kid whose team just won, or who competed in a debate, a recital or a concert. Raising a glass to celebrate a birthday or anniversary. Marking and honoring whatever small victory you may have experienced on any given day.
This Friday, my sweetheart and I will be celebrating our second wedding anniversary (yes, we have an anniversary date “that will live in infamy”, since we got married on Pearl Harbor Day). And that’s one of the sorts of bigger events that folks tend to celebrate, but I’ve also been celebrating smaller things, like the success of our holiday shopping event this past weekend. Or the wee victory dance I did when I (or, uh, Morris, yeah, that’s what I meant) ordered a new pinafore apron for me as an anniversary gift.
So plan on some posts and thoughts about celebrations: what they are and can be, why we should have as many as we can, and even some ideas on how to celebrate things. Because celebration fits together really well with gratitude, and both of them lead to abundance, so if you think these things are all wrapped together, you’re right!
