Jaclyn Souza

2012-10-09T16:49:00.000-04:00

Things you might have missed!

2012-10-02T09:41:00.002-04:00

Here's what I've been writing lately.

National Stepfamily Day
When the Vows Aren't True (link to excerpt which links to full post at A Practical Wedding)
My 10-Year High School Reunion as a Non-Event
Acting Like a Parent
My Carrie Bradshaw Moment

If you haven't already ... please come visit at by Jacki!

an invitation

2012-09-15T07:13:00.000-04:00

Here is what I've been working on lately: making the switch to Wordpress and building my new website, where I'll be blogging and, in the future, showcasing freelance writing work.

I'd like to invite you to join me here ...

byJacki

indefinite

2012-08-24T05:00:00.000-04:00

Hello friends and happy almost-fall ... I can almost feel it creeping into the air in the evenings, and I LOVE it!

I have decided to make my hiatus here indefinite. I might resume posting, but I'm also working on some other projects which will likely draw my focus away for the foreseeable future.

As always, drop me a line any time if you like! {acertainglow@gmail.com}

I've been...

2012-08-06T06:30:00.000-04:00

... watching fireworks ...

... working a LOT ...

... discovering new flowers in my yard all the time ...

... rediscovering old favorites - I hadn't seen a Giant Peach since college! ...

... taking walks ...

... playing ...

... hiking ...

... and ... well ... trudging along! Trying to figure out how to get my writing "groove" back. Working day 7 of 12 in a row and wishing for just one day to myself, alone, to recharge my pitiful batteries. Realizing that most adults do not get such days and it may be many years before I see such a thing again. Longing for fall weather and wishing it could last forever. Feeling a general sense of restlessness and discontent with the way things are and standing on the verge of changing them. Still trying to fight off depression, and really irritated at it. Generally happy and grateful and working on showing that more, as opposed to letting myself dwell on the worrisome bits.

... what have you been up to this summer?

{weekend glow} summer lovin'

2012-07-07T08:00:00.000-04:00

{Images via weheartit}

the unintentional hiatus

2012-07-05T06:30:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I drop off the face of the blog. (This is one of the many reasons I will never be a Big Blogger.) It’s never intentional. Lately I just don’t have much to say.

Summer is heating up, with weather that swings from hot, sunny and humid to intense thunderstorms - and back again in minutes. This week I’m only working one job instead of two, which feels incredible.

Sunday was Matt’s 30th birthday, and we were able to get out and celebrate in the beautiful summer weather while E spent a day at camp with my parents. With half of Tuesday and all of Wednesday off that meant more free time outdoors, until thunderstorms rolled in and cancelled the 4th of July fireworks display I’d hoped to attend.

Life is good, very good. We are very fortunate and happy. But life is also busy and grinding and ordinary in a way that keeps my brain from being able to sift through the shreds of decent, writable stuff and turn it into anything worth sharing.

What happens is that on a typical day, I spend so much time doing things I don’t particularly enjoy that I’m too tired and frustrated to even know what to do with myself when I have pockets of time to do things I want to do. Does this happen to anyone else?

Take Wednesday for example. I can count the number of days off Matt and I have had together by ourselves on one hand. We’ve been dating for almost a year and a half. So when one of these unicorn-like days rolls around, I’m all … “There are SO MANY AWESOME THINGS WE COULD BE DOING, HOW DO WE DO ALL THE THINGS?” Then I wind up feeling indecisive and lost, and the pressure of making it THE BEST DAY OFF EVER ends up making me feel stressed and anxious until we make a plan, and sad about the time we wasted making a plan, and sad if the plan doesn’t go 100% perfectly. It’s so silly, because when I manage to just chill and enjoy, those little moments are always fun - like having a drink outside or wading waist-deep into the ocean, going on an over-priced roller coaster ride overlooking the beach and playing arcade games.

But by the time we drove home from the beach yesterday to get ready for the fireworks, I was beginning to feel anxiety about going back to work and about working this weekend. About the messy kitchen I need to clean up, the piles of clothing I’m sorting out for donation, the carpets that need to be steam-cleaned and the bedroom that looks like my closet and dresser exploded. I was feeling physically ill on our day off together because I know that I'm failing myself - and him - on the living with intention and generally having my sh*t together front.

Plus, I think I went into this summer expecting it to look and feel just like last summer, but it’s so different in almost every way. Last summer, every weekend, I would throw on a bathing suit and wait for Matt and E to pull up to my apartment so I could hop into the truck and head to camp with them. This summer we have two camps to visit, but most of my weekend time is spent at work and I’ve barely seen either camp. Nor have I exercised nearly enough, or eaten healthy enough, to feel comfortable throwing on a bathing suit. E is older and more capable; Matt and I are more comfortable and established together; everything is just … different.

So life marches along and I am trying to learn to enjoy the happy moments amidst the monotonous ones and trying to balance my commitments. And while I do that, this summer may be pretty light on blogging, until I can pull myself together and act like a functioning writer again!

How do you just relax and enjoy the little moments while they’re happening?

{Image via weheartit}

{weekend glow} natural beauty

2012-06-09T05:00:00.000-04:00

As the air warms up and layers of extra clothing fall away, my beauty routine begins to simplify, too. By the time summer weekends at camp roll around, sun-kissed skin and chapstick is just about all I need!

Happy weekend, sweets!

{Images: 1, 2}

thank you

2012-06-06T07:30:00.000-04:00

... for your love, friendship, and kind words when I shared my struggle in this post.

After admitting what's going on, my first step was to run my concerns past my nurse practitioner and get back on birth control, because when I was on the pill, not only did my body feel better but so did my mind, my emotions - having my hormone levels evened out was something I'd grown accustomed to and something I want to return to, to see how it helps.

Knowing that I am able to admit what's going on, and that many of us have struggled with similar issues, and that we are all here to support one another in the up and down moments, helps so much. So thank you guys - you're the best!!

things i'm afraid to tell you

2012-06-01T07:30:00.000-04:00

Today, I'm tossing my confessional into the wave of posts sweeping the blogosphere. [It started here. Read more about it here and here.]

I've wanted to do this for a while, but all of my confessions seemed silly, and I realized that they all boil down to one simple truth. The thing I'm afraid to tell you (and myself) is that I think I'm depressed.

Actually, I know I am, but it was only this week, when Matt had the courage to bring it to my attention, that I realized I couldn't keep ignoring it. My life is good, yet I have been in this pit of sluggish despair for a long, long time. What do I have to be sad about, I ask myself. I have a great life - wonderful family and friends, and the love of my life. And although I'm truly happy a lot of the time, and grateful for what I have, and although I can put on a good public show of being "up" until I get home and collapse ... many days I find myself struggling to handle basic daily life without crumbling. Behind closed doors, I've been sinking.

I'm pretty sure it's a combination of factors - some hormonal and some situational. The hormonal, I have an appointment to work on changing. The situational, I am doing everything I can to change, but I'm afraid that I may be stuck. And that is really scary, and if you've ever been through the whole depression thing, you know how hard it is to just keep plugging and tell yourself that things will get better soon, or at least someday. Because it feels like they won't, ever, and like where you're stuck right now is where you'll always be stuck, and you might as well stop trying to get un-stuck, because, well, joke's on you, you stuck sucker, because this deep hole is where you are going to live. Forever. Right? And no matter how much you know, logically, that this isn't true, some days it is just impossible to rise above that nasty, self-defeating depression-talk.

It's not who I want to be or who I know I should be. It manifests in so many little ways that would be easy to ignore on their own. Five pounds of weight gain. Crying over the tiniest perceived slights. Crying about work, sometimes at work. Feeling anxious and unsettled and worried - sometimes about nothing in particular - all the time. A general lack of energy and "oomph" - even when I want to be productive and get stuff done and go out and have fun, many days, I just don't have it in me. Lately, all I've wanted to do is curl up in my bed and watch bad TV for approximately twelve hours straight. Now, I love naps and I love bad TV, but that's excessive. It's not normal for me, it's not healthy.

If admitting you have a problem is the first step to changing it, then consider this step one. It was scary, but I'm glad I told you ... and myself.

on working retail again

2012-05-31T22:00:00.000-04:00

It's been a long time since I've been new somewhere. I've been at my regular job for nearly six years. Before that, I had a long-term college job as an RA (sophomore through senior year) and an even longer-term summer job, working for the same local store on school vacations from age 17 to 22. I tend to settle in somewhere, become comfortable and capable and well-established.

So it’s been interesting taking on Job Two, working nights and weekends at a women’s clothing store, where I am, for the first time in a very long time, the “new girl.”

There are many things I’ve always loved about retail, from my very first summer at the Polo outlet when I was 15. I've always had a certain strange fondness for closing, for instance ... the quiet hour or so before the doors are locked, the time spent tidying up the store and making it look pristine again ... and inevitably having to re-fold items after the doors are locked because without fail, a customer will arrive five minutes before closing and insist on touching every single pile of shirts in the store.

Another thing I love about retail is how you can almost instantly bond with just about anyone when you're put out on a sales floor with them. Opening and closing shifts are best for this, because at opening, it takes a while for business to pick up, and at closing, business has usually slowed down - leaving time to chat with your co-workers while you fold or restock. Folding piles of tee shirts during quiet hours at the store is how I got to know Matt. On Wednesday night my new co-worker and I worked our way around the store together, folding and stacking clothing, and ended up talking about some pretty heavy stuff.

I realized this week that while I resisted the idea of getting a second job for a really long time, and while it's tough to balance everything that I have going on right now, being back in a retail store is good for me right now. It's reminding me of some things I had begun to forget.

Being new can be healthy. Without learning and growth, we can become stagnant. Being new has kept me on my toes. Every day is a completely new experience, and so far, the people I work with have been gracious about teaching me how to do new things. I joked with my manager that I could walk through the building and evaluate its construction type, its fire protection systems, its life safety features … all without batting an eyelash. But ask me to exchange two nearly-identical sweaters without a receipt? Now that had me stumped. Sometimes it’s good to step outside of my comfort zone and remember that there is a whole big world outside of what I do each day.

Take pride in what you’re doing - there’s no shame in working two jobs. I resisted the idea of taking a second job for many reasons - my love of sanity and free time being high on the list. But I also had this misconception that working a second job was somehow beneath me. I have a college degree, a cubicle of my own, a job title in my email signature. I kept thinking, I shouldn't have to work a second job. But you know what? I need the extra income and the way you earn extra income is by working more. For most people, getting somewhere in life isn't a stroke of luck, it's about hard work, and right now is the time when I need to work hard to make sure I stay ahead of my obligations. It won’t be like this forever, but it’s like this right now, and that’s how it needs to be.

Finish the day and be done with it. If you go a few levels above me in the retail store food chain, work doesn’t necessarily end when you clock out. There are sales goals to meet, there is inventory to take, there are schedules to make. But for me, as a sales associate, I get to clock out and leave. My feet hurt, but my mind is free. I don’t carry anything home with me; I don’t have nightmares about what happened earlier in the day or what will happen tomorrow. In short, work stress doesn’t cripple me during non-work hours. For years, I have been so stressed out at Job One that it spills over into my personal time. I have spent many nights crying about what I knew was waiting for me the next morning or what I feared might happen if we had a bad month. Although my work at Job One can have much more serious consequences than my work at Job Two, I need to remember to finish each day and be done with it - to leave work at work. Counting the hours till I have to go back or stressing out about what awaits me in my queue serves no purpose other than to ruin what little free time I do have with my friends, family, and sweetheart.

I know, I know … that’s a lot to learn from ringing up sales and folding shirts. But it’s all true. So cheers to being back in retail, being new, and the lessons it’s teaching me!

my yoga anniversary

2012-05-23T06:30:00.000-04:00

{ puppy yoga ... precious }

One day in April I mentioned to my friend Melissa that it hadn't even been a full year since I began practicing yoga. We were reminiscing about our early days at our studio, how we both ended up there around the same time, found ourselves drawn in and never looked back. A brief trip through the archives tells me that yes, it has indeed been one year since I started practicing yoga.

Last May I shared my initial reactions to yoga.

"I'm glad I went.
I will definitely go back.
I will drink more water during the day next time I go.
My flexibility is pitiful.
I want Lululemon clothing.

Trying yoga got me thinking about my fitness goals. For a long time I focused strictly on running. When I got sick and couldn't do anything it made me really think about things. What do I want to do, fitness-wise? If I could do anything and achieve the same basic results with my body, what would I do?

Well ... that's a topic that deserves its own post, and it will get one very soon."

My approach to fitness shifted dramatically after that one, first, dripping-in-sweat taste of yoga.

I was instantly hooked. In that studio, I found more than just exercise. I was blessed to find Kathleen as my first yoga teacher - just exactly the teacher I needed when beginning my yoga practice. Something about not only yoga, but the way she shared it, drew me in and kept me coming back. On my yoga mat I found strength, calm, peace, love, and a relationship with my body that I'd never imagined I would have. And when I skip a few days - or a week - I feel it, and it reminds me why I keep going back.

A year later ... how's it going?

I'm still glad I went.
I don't think I'll ever stop going back.
In fact, I want to be a teacher someday.
I drink more water now - yoga day or not - than I ever have in my life.
My flexibility is deepening each day.
My core is engaged.
My legs are strong.
My arms are getting stronger.
My breath is deeper.
My mind is clearer.
My heart is open.
My body can do amazing things.
I've made wonderful friends through my studio.
They're doing amazing things and changing our community for the better.
They inspire me to do amazing things, too.

{And yeah ... my workout wardrobe is now mostly Lululemon, because it fits and functions better than anything else I've tried! I don't believe in making yoga a superficial pursuit, but I do believe in feeling comfortable and confident in your workout clothing and buying the best quality pieces you can afford as they will last longer. If that includes wearing Lulu, cool. If not, that's cool too. There is a lot of great clothing out there!}

Happy anniversary, yoga. You've changed my life. I hope our relationship lasts a lifetime!

{Images via weheartit}

do the thing

2012-05-15T18:00:00.000-04:00

{Source}

detour

2012-05-03T11:32:00.000-04:00

Today I'm packing to go out of town for a few days - my father and I are flying to Tennessee tonight to meet the rest of the family to celebrate my youngest sister's college graduation. When I opened up my suitcase I found an old notebook, and in the notebook was this picture:

That's me, 6 years ago this weekend, at my own college graduation.

I remember thinking it was funny to pose with the "detour" sign. Joke's on you, 22-year-old Jacki. That sign was prophetic.

My life quickly veered off the path I thought I had perfectly mapped out, and I have spent the last 6 years on an extended detour, one that's actually turned out to be the right road for me to travel.

Shortly after this picture was taken I cut off my hair and started gaining weight and my life started to crumble. For a long time I didn't look like myself, but today, ignore the fine lines I just discovered on my forehead, and I resemble that girl in the photo more than I ever expected to again. But now, I not only look like myself again, I finally know myself. And to me, that's a good feeling.

Sometimes when I see old friends from high school or college, someone will comment that it feels like no time has passed. And sometimes I get that, because it is a little bit hard to believe that I graduated from high school 10 years ago or from college 6 years ago. I still feel, a lot of the time, like a kid. A kid who has fine lines on her forehead. And paid property taxes this morning.

But at the same time, it feels like so much has happened in the last 10 (and 6) years, that I really can't wholeheartedly say, "It feels like just yesterday." And I think that's a good thing, because it means life has progressed, and I've grown since then. And that's a really good feeling.

See you next week!

more love

2012-05-02T18:00:00.000-04:00

In yesterday's post I shared two thoughts with you, both written by friends of mine in response to my question - how would you define love, with regards to your spouse or partner?

Since the focus of yesterday's post was partnership, and identifying the foundations of a good one, I couldn't include everyone's replies in the section about love. But they were so great that I wanted to share them with you anyway - so here are some of those replies. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!

"A choice to care for, listen to, support, cherish and above all-respect the person you have trusted with your heart, through the good and the bad."

"Isn't that the million dollar question? :) So hard to put into words..."

"For me it was like falling asleep, by the time I realized it was happening, it had practically already happened. And I spend pretty much every day trying to be worthy of it. Far cry from who I always was, haha."

"Well, we've been married for about 4 years now. I still hate seeing him go out the door to work, and love every minute with him-even when we disagree about something. It is a choice. It is also protective... not trash-talking with friends ever, no matter what is going on between us. And, it's acceptance of the good and the bad, knowing that you love the person, flaws and all... we can both always be ourselves at home. It's an honest place. It's pretty great. :)"

"It's comfort and fun and compromise and mutual respect and that feeling that everything will be ok as long as that person is there with you. It's shared jokes, and shared memories, and shared hardships. In our wedding vows we quoted U2 to say that we wanted to be the harbor in the tempest for each other, and then we also talked about being the foundation to keep the other strong when things seemed to crumble. While hearts and butterflies are wonderful, for me, love is about partnership and being willing to change directions and accept changes in someone else because you think that their core is true and matched to yours."

{all images via weheartit}

on building a partnership

2012-05-01T18:00:00.000-04:00

When I was a child, my favorite weekend each year was the one my family and the other members of our local church spent at a church-owned youth camp, about two hours northwest of our home. I loved few things in life more than going to camp - swimming out to the middle of the lake with my friends, eating big communal meals in the lodge, hiking Tumbledown, gathering around a big campfire at the end of the day.

My best friend’s family and my own usually stayed in one of the staff cabins, with full bathrooms, a living room furnished with 1970s hand-me-down furniture, and a woodstove.

The kids would all gather into a few bedrooms, our red plaid-lined Coleman sleeping bags lined up on double beds, creating a giant slumber party. But my parents got their own room, and their sleeping bags were not just lined up side by side on the bed - they were zipped together to create a double-wide sleeping bag.

It always made me happy, in a way I couldn’t explain at the time. My parents didn’t want to be in separate sleeping bags, even for just one weekend. It was really representative of them, to me. One of the things I’ve admired most about my parents’ three-plus-decades marriage is that they are partners. They never had to tell me this: they just are. You just know.

Even as a child, I always knew that someday, I wanted to find someone to zip my sleeping bag together with - to tackle life with, from simple things like a cold night at camp, to the big things like raising a family. A partner.

But if life during my marriage was a trip to camp, I would have been sleeping alone, in a single-wide sleeping bag. It wasn’t a partnership. In fact, it usually felt like I was in a foxhole, trying to protect myself from the actions and decisions of the person who was supposed to be my partner.

When it was over, I slowly began to look at what I needed to do differently next time in order to find that partnership in the long run. I looked at couples I admired, like my parents, and saw that most of them shared core values, and they seemed to genuinely like and respect each other in addition to loving each other.

Dating was a mixed bag for a while. One thing that was painfully clear was that no one I dated after my ex-husband was full-fledged partner material. There was fun, there was angst, and there were several first dates with perfectly kind and polite men who made good conversation but didn't ignite any sparkle of attraction in my heart. There was the eHarmony debacle and ensuing breakup.

And then came Matt.

From the start, our relationship felt natural and healthy, and over the past year-and-change I’ve been learning first-hand how it feels to begin building a partnership. It’s so different from anything I’ve ever experienced, and I know that we’re still in the very beginning stages of it - at this point, we don’t live together, share finances, have a child together, or own any joint property, and we’re not engaged. We've been dating longer than my ex-husband and I were before he proposed, and although we've talked about the future, we're not rushing forward. Yet I feel secure knowing that we are building a real partnership.

How? Well, I've begun to understand that a successful partnership is based on some fundamental elements. Here are the pillars I've discovered so far (I'd love to hear yours in the comments!).

{Friendship.}
For a few years, almost every wedding invitation I received started off with "today I will marry my best friend." The cutesy phrase got old fast, but I get where it comes from. Friendship - a genuine camaraderie - is important in a romantic partnership because not every single day or moment of life can be about romance. One of the reasons I was always so drawn to Matt was because we could talk for hours about anything, and he is still one of my favorite people to talk to or just hang out with, whether we're being serious or slap-happy. If love is, to borrow another cliche, “friendship set on fire,” then we’re off to a great start.

{Trust.}
Not just believing that what the other person says to you is true - though honesty is a key component of trust and of any relationship - but wholehearted, big-picture trust in them as a person. I trust Matt’s judgment, I trust his character. I have fallen so deeply in love that every day is an exercise in trusting him not to break my heart or betray the privacy of things we share only with one another.

{Compatibility.}
For me, compatibility means more than “having stuff in common.” Sure, we have stuff in common - hobbies and favorite wines, for instance - but we also have the same core values and principles, a similar and complementary approach to the big things in life, and a deep respect for each other.

{Communication.}
We’re not perfect at this. Sometimes it’s hard for me to talk about hard stuff, and sometimes I hold things in longer than I should. But the bottom line is that we’ve never walked away from a difficult conversation without sticking it out, talking things through and coming to a better understanding and appreciation of each other.

{Love.}
Here’s what makes this relationship different from any other great friend with similar values and good communication skills. It's hard to define, but not hard to identify when you've got it. It's what makes me want to know and serve and understand him better all the time, makes me truly listen when he speaks, makes me want him to be happy and safe and well. The thing I can't fully articulate because it's just so big and all-encompassing and wonderful. The glue that holds all of that trust and friendship and compatibility and communication together ... love.

I asked my Facebook friends to weigh in on how they would define love as it relates to their spouse or partner, because I was having such a hard time articulating it, and one of the responses was so lovely I just had to share it with you:

"Safe, unconditional and deeper than either of us can express. Also, it's a daily choice....made stronger by every time we've endured a trial."

Another friend echoed the idea of love as a choice:

"Feelings come and go, it's a choice. To some it may not sound that romantic. But if you look at the old sweet couples that have been married for 50 years they chose each other everyday, they didn't always have feelings of being on cloud nine. It's that choice that counts."

The choice aspect of love is, to me, what differentiates between a relationship that might break when the initial glow of infatuation wears off and a real partnership. The first choice, of course, is choosing a good partner in life, and I believe that picking your partner wisely is a huge component of being able to continue making that daily choice to love them every day, through every trial. For the first time, I understand what it feels like to realize you've chosen well, and have a sturdy foundation to build upon.

Of course, our partnership is still new, and I know we have a lot of milestones ahead of us if we decide to make it a permanent one - but the foundations we’re laying make me feel excited about what life will be like if we do that.

Last weekend we went camping, and late at night, gazing into the campfire, I thought again of those long-ago weekends at camp and my parents’ sleeping bags. And I realized I've found the person I want to zip my sleeping bag up with.

I later realized we will need new sleeping bags to do this. But that's okay. We've got time.

weekend getaway

2012-04-29T19:12:00.000-04:00

{morning 1 - coffee to go; Matt climbing; me on top of the Beehive; Matt on top of the Beehive; view from the Beehive; setting a bad example for tourists at Thunder Hole; our campfire; wine and dinner packets; sunrise halfway up Cadillac Mountain; us in camp; morning 2 - coffee again}

This weekend was our Acadia getaway! I've been craving some quality "away" time with Matt for ages. We see each other almost every day, but are usually tired and running on empty. This trip was the first weekend away we've taken since we've been dating.

As it was partly in celebration of my birthday last week, I requested a breakfast crawl on our way out of town - breakfast sandwiches, fresh donuts, and coffee, each from a different little shop in town. Breakfast procured, we headed north, towards Bar Harbor and Mount Desert Island, knowing that most of the businesses in the area would not yet be open and we'd be in for a cool, breezy weekend. Arriving on the island in the early afternoon, we set up camp at the only campground open this early in the year, then headed into the park to hike the Beehive. It's a short climb, distance-wise, but goes straight up, and some spots are pretty intense. The view from the top? Worth every minute of the climb.

That evening, we cooked veggie packets and kielbasa over the fire and shared a bottle of pinot noir. It was really relaxing and peaceful. No TV, no radio, no cell phone service ... just an evening with my sweetheart.

This morning, we woke up early. 4:30 a.m. early. Not quite early enough to be all the way on top of Cadillac Mountain for the famous sunrise - first light on the East Coast - but we stopped about halfway up the mountain to watch the sun emerge over the horizon. After eating breakfast and breaking down our campsite, we headed back into the park to drive the scenic loop road and make a few more stops before heading home.

It was so good to get away together, even only for a day and a half.

And now ... another week begins!

{weekend glow} yoga state of mind

2012-04-07T07:30:00.000-04:00

Happy weekend, friends! Have you entered the Spring Glow Giveaway yet? If not, click here to enter! You will not want to miss out on the opportunity to win this amazing prize package featuring SoChick! Handbags, Lillian Solstice bath & body products, and Essie nail polish!

This weekend's Glow is all about yoga. If you didn't know already ... I love yoga. That's an oversimplification, but it works.

It's been almost a year since my first yoga class, a heated vinyasa flow session that left me exhausted - and addicted. I hung up my running shoes and haven't looked back since! Practicing yoga has not only shaped my body into something stronger, healthier and more flexible than before, it's calmed my whirling mind. I've also been blessed to make some wonderful friends through my yoga studio.

Now, as my practice evolves, I know how important it is to stay hydrated (at all times, not just before practice), to push my limits, and most importantly, to listen to - and honor - what my body tells me on and off the mat.

"Yoga has a sly, clever way of short circuiting the mental patterns that cause anxiety." - Baxter Bell

{Images: 1, 2, 3}

{weekend glow} bookworm

2012-03-31T08:00:00.000-04:00

For as long as I can remember, I've been what you might call a bookworm.

As a child, I devoured books almost as fast as I could get my hands on them. My beloved hand-me-down copies of the Black Stallion series were falling apart at the seams, but I kept re-reading them anyway. As a teenager I loved to pour a hot bubble bath and sink into the bubbles to read a good book. Now, not much has changed, except that I now have a Nook, which lets me carry an entire library around in my purse! I still love the feel of a paper book in my hands, but I also love the versatility of an e-reader. My library will probably always be a mix of hard-copy and digital-copy books.

With all the hype about the Hunger Games movie coming out, I've decided I want to read that trilogy this year, and I'm also looking forward to receiving the copy of Kelle Hampton's upcoming book, Bloom, that I pre-ordered. After reading Lauren Oliver's Delirium last fall for book club, I am super excited to read the second book in that trilogy, Pandemonium. Barnes & Noble also lists Hana, a story by Lauren Oliver about Hana, the best friend of Delirium protagonist Lena. I will definitely be downloading this as well!

Oh, so many stories waiting to be read and written.

Instant recipe for a happy bookworm? Give me a quiet afternoon, a big book, and a cozy place to curl up and read ... and read ... and read!

{Images: 1, 2, 3, 4}

how did we meet? i don't quite remember...

2012-03-27T18:00:00.000-04:00

Sooo ... how did you meet your sweetheart? We all have our special, sweet, silly, crazy - sometimes downright amazing (just ask me how my parents met!) - love stories, and the new site How Did We Meet is dedicated to sharing those stories. When Ruchi from How Did We Meet contacted me about sharing the story of how Matt and I met, I realized I didn't actually remember meeting him.

But I remember plenty else ... including the first time I saw the wild-haired 20-ish-year-old man who would become my clean-cut business-owner boyfriend (but only after becoming my boss, a father, and a friend. Oh, and he's not my boss anymore and hasn't been for a long time!).

Click here to check out our story featured on How Did We Meet, browse other love stories (like Devon's!), and maybe even add your own!

{excerpt}

I have a confession to make: I don’t actually remember meeting him.

My memory works in strange ways. There are chunks of my life from which I have very few concrete memories, but there are moments I remember with absolute clarity. The place, the smells, the music - I can pull it all back into my mind and re-live it any time I want.

Maybe it works this way for everyone. All I know is that the moments I’ve remembered perfectly over the years have usually turned out to be important ones. {click to continue...}

food i'm pinning

2012-03-26T06:00:00.000-04:00

It's come to my attention that I need to start cooking more. Where better to find a treasure trove of recipes than Pinterest? Here are some of the recipes I've been pinning lately. I hope to test some of these out soon with enough success that I'll be able to share the results with you!

Source: whatsgabycooking.com via Jacki on Pinterest

Source: glutenfreescallywag.com via Jacki on Pinterest

Source: gastronomersguide.com via Jacki on Pinterest

Source: thepioneerwoman.com via Jacki on Pinterest

Source: closetcooking.com via Jacki on Pinterest

Source: forkknifeswoon.blogspot.com via Jacki on Pinterest

Source: annies-eats.net via Jacki on Pinterest

Have you tried out any recipes you've found on Pinterest? What are some of your favorites?

treating life like yoga {or, lessons in self-acceptance}

2012-03-23T06:00:00.000-04:00

Here’s one thing I really love about yoga: I can’t practice yoga and hate myself at the same time.

Trust me, I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work.

On Tuesday morning I was running late, arriving 15 minutes after the beginning of the 6:15 surya flow class co-taught by my friends Amy & Melissa. From the moment my alarm clock first chimed to the moment I arrived on my mat, I was stressed and frustrated. I was late, I was unprepared, I was exhausted, I wasn’t hydrated, and I had missed the first few moments of practice when typically, we begin to loosen up the body, preparing it for the flow of a vinyasa yoga class.

With my head hanging down in uttanasana, I berated myself. Why hadn’t I jumped out of bed immediately when the alarm sounded? Why didn’t I pack my bag for work last night? Will I ever reclaim the morning person I used to be?

We made our way into child’s pose and as I folded forward, trying to melt my heart towards my mat, my mind was filled with self-harmful clutter.

You’re not flexible enough, but if you had showed up on time you’d at least be warmed up by now. You’re such a mess. Who do you think you are? Aren’t you supposed to be living with intention? More like walking disaster.

Through the chatter I heard Melissa’s warm, nurturing voice.

“Wherever you are today - right now - honor your body and your practice. Love yourself exactly where you are right now.”

Whoa.

How did she know I needed to hear that?

“If it hurts, back away from it,” Melissa continued, echoing a phrase I’ve heard from several of my teachers, “If it feels good … it’s yoga.”

With my face against my mat I realized that beating myself up mentally, while not inflicting physical harm the way tearing a tendon could do, hurts me. Back away from it. Release it. I could not change one moment of the morning that had already happened. Holding onto it would only prevent me from making the rest of the day a good one.

This isn’t yoga, I told myself. And yoga aside, this isn’t even constructive. With a deep breath, I gathered all of my frustration and exhaled it away. What followed was a beautiful, uplifting practice, opening my eyes and heart to the rising sun and dawning Spring. I lay in savasana and felt both of my friends place their hands on me - one at my head, one at my feet - sealing in the practice and the peace of accepting ourselves exactly as we are right now.

When it comes to loving and accepting my physical body, I’ve come a long way from the awkward, hourglass-shaped pre-teen girl who grew too fast and wound up with a body better suited for a burlesque dancer than a middle-school student.

But loving my inner self is still sometimes a struggle. Accepting the natural traits with which I was born, identifying the ones I could shape into something better, and understanding that meaningful change takes time, well … it challenges me every step of the way.

Sometimes I feel like I will never be the woman inside that I truly want to be, and that I won’t reach the goals I’ve set for myself because my natural tendency to fly by the seat of my pants will triumph. My house won’t be beautiful and inviting. My body won’t be strong and attractive. Matt and I won’t be able to get married or have a baby because I don’t make enough money.

When I begin sinking into these fears, it triggers a vicious cycle of negative self-talk, which only pushes me further away from where I want to be, reinforcing the idea that I’ll never get there. Before long I find myself trapped in a bog of self-doubt, unable to pick myself up and just keep trying. I start to believe that the worst is true - that I can’t do it anyway, so I shouldn’t even try.

The girl who wants to live with purpose and intention? That’s not my default setting.

The girl who gives up on herself and settles for less and tells herself she isn’t good enough and can’t do it and shouldn’t try, that is my embarrassing-to-admit default setting.

But that shit? Is hurtful.

On the mat, there is no place for a whirling mess of negative self-talk. There is only room to breathe - one movement per breath - and do my best, pushing my edge, challenging my body and mind without berating myself for what I cannot yet do.

I don’t have to love every single flaw I’ve got, but I don’t have to be flawless in order to love and accept myself.

It’s time to treat life like yoga. To work towards a better version of myself without judgment of the current version, moving forward, one breath at a time.

{Images: 1, 2}

there is always room for love

2012-03-20T05:00:00.000-04:00

The little dude was born just days after Christmas. Last December, the holidays were closing in fast and furious, and I knew that a birthday party for my little buddy was on the docket.

And his mom would be there.

(... Duh, Gocky.)

So, long story short, I’ve known Matt for a long time, and I met his ex-wife before she was his wife, long before there was a little dude. We always got along well, and over the years we exchanged pleasantries via social networks though we rarely saw one another in person.

When Matt and I started dating, she was supportive, even encouraging me before I met the little dude for the first time, telling me not to worry, and suggesting that toy cars were a surefire hit with her son. No, it hasn’t all been smooth sailing - we’re all human, and we’ve had our tense moments - but we now have a friendly, working rapport.

Still, as the birthday party approached, I was nervous. It would be the first time I'd be in the same room as my boyfriend, his son, his ex-wife and ex-stepdaughter, and the rest of his family. Not only that, it would be the first time in months I'd seen the little dude's mom - and prior to a brief toddler pickup at her home months earlier, I hadn't seen her in years, not since she was pregnant with the little dude. I remember running into her on the street and putting my hands on her baby bump and telling her how fantastic she looked.

Neither of us could have known where we would be a few years later, but there we were, in late December, celebrating her son’s birthday together.

When I arrived at the little dude's grandparents' home, she was already there. I parked my car and sat for a moment, looking at her car, thinking about her inside the house, helping put the party together. In the past year I've come to feel at home in their house, yet her history there is years longer than mine. I've come to feel like part of the family, but she has blood ties to them that I may never have.

My stomach fluttered. I thought about turning it back on and backing out of the driveway, then took a deep breath and walked inside.

And … it was fine. Sure, it was a little awkward at first. But by the end, we were talking casually, and wishing each other a happy new year as we said goodbye. A few weeks later we celebrated Matt’s mom’s birthday. Similar situation, similar interactions. At one point I found myself sitting around the kitchen table with the little dude’s mom, grandmother, and two aunts, chatting easily about who-remembers-what.

For a long time I was intimidated by the little dude’s mom, and I’d be lying if I said I was no longer intimidated by her at all - but I’ve come a long way. What really intimidated me, though, was the fact that for half a dozen years, she was part of the family I was quickly growing to love. And so, I wondered if there would be room for both of us in the family.

Not literally, of course. We’re both small. But figuratively speaking, emotionally speaking - would there be room in the hearts of the people I have come to love as family to hold both their ex-daughter-in-law and their hopeful future daughter-in-law?

As it turns out, there was … there is. And it’s really, really simple. As I sat around the kitchen table talking and laughing with the little dude’s mother, grandmother, aunt and great-aunt, I realized … love isn’t limited. And while families certainly weren’t meant to be broken apart and piecemealed back together, love allows us to do so and smooth over the rougher edges.

There will be tense times, and uncertain moments. There will never be perfection, because perfection does not exist. But there will always be love - enough to embrace her and me.

Love isn’t limited in its capacity to expand, nor is it lessened by being divided among more people. Loving me doesn’t mean they love her less, and loving her as part of their family doesn’t mean they can’t love me.

There is always room for more love.

♥ Jacki

your real life

2012-03-14T05:30:00.000-04:00

This song is so beautiful and sad.

For approximately twenty-five years, I felt this way.

And then I realized.

This is my real life.

Every moment of it has been my real life, even the moments I wasted.

This is your real life.

Be here now.

♥ Jacki

how to date a single dad: it's okay to say "no"

2012-03-12T19:00:00.000-04:00

Let’s get real about something for a minute.

Three is hard, y’all. Toddlers can be tough.

Most of the time, being a Gocky is a pretty easy gig. We watch cartoons, play outside, run around and laugh a lot, play with toys, and eat ice cream together. I am frequently greeted with happy squeals and hugs when I arrive, and I usually get bedtime hugs and smooches. The little dude is a great kid, and most of the time, he is very well behaved.

But he’s three. I don’t remember much about being three, but my parents do, and I’m pretty sure they’d tell you that while I could be sweet and witty and delightful, I could also be beat-your-head-on-the-wall infuriating. Probably within minutes of each other.

My parents may or may not have home video of me screaming “I WILL NOT OBEY! I WILL NOT!” at my mother when I was two or three.

So the little dude is three. He’s smart, strong-willed and capable, and lately I’ve noticed him testing his limits more, exercising his strong will in direct opposition of things he is told to do (or not do).

Pretending that I never get frustrated by this would be like pretending I’m not human and he’s not three years old. And yet, until last weekend, I have been laboring under this self-imposed delusion that I’m not allowed to have a normal human reaction when he displays the less charming characteristics of a typical toddler.

There are a couple of reasons for this. First, I don’t want Matt to take it wrong if I get annoyed with the little dude. I don’t want him to question my love for and commitment to his son, or wonder if I’m really “all in.” To me, this fear is self-explanatory, but as I write this, I realize I’ve never actually articulated this to Matt, and maybe it makes more sense in the “vague, unnecessary fears” sector in my head than it does in reality.

Second, in my own mind, I’m not a legit authority figure. I’m not a mom, aunt, grandma or, legally, a step-parent. I’m a Gocky, and that’s not actually a real thing.

Because I’m not the little dude’s mother, I have been careful - perhaps overly careful - not to overstep my boundaries. For the most part, I leave discipline and guidance to his father. But there are times when I need to speak up, and recently I’ve realized … that’s okay.

It’s okay to tell a toddler who is kicking the back of your seat or spitting at you to stop. It’s okay to scoop him up and stop him from darting into danger’s way when he’s running down the sidewalk. It’s okay to tell him that screeching “do it NOW!” is not how we get things done, and that words like “please” and “thank you” are required.

And it’s okay to be firm about it if he doesn’t listen the first time.

Because the thing is, he’s a toddler, and I’m a grown-up. While I’m not his mom, I’m one of the adults who love him, look after him, and want him to grow up into the most awesome version of himself that he can possibly be. And growing up to be that awesome no-longer-little dude requires guidance.

Sometimes that guidance comes in the form of showing him how to put Sprout’s leash on or cut a pancake into bite-sized pieces. And sometimes it comes in the form of a stern voice and an unflinching “no.”

This weekend we all had kind of a cranky day, and on Sunday afternoon I hit a wall. Finally forced to admit that I was struggling, I asked Matt in a moment of frustration, “How do I make him listen?”

To Matt’s credit, he didn’t laugh at me, but his answer was honest. “If you figure it out, let me know.”

Huh.

I wonder how many times my parents looked at each other and said, “How do we make her listen?”

I think it’s probably something that every parent, step-parent, guardian, and Gocky wonders at some point. How do I do this?

Fortunately, Matt has my back. Because that’s another thing I have feared: that I’ll step up and put my foot down only to find that Dad, who to the little dude might as well be the hand of God, isn’t going to back me up. That I’ll hear the dreaded words … “You’re not my mom! You can’t tell me what to do!” and be left hanging, hurt and undermined, an awkward, impotent third wheel in my own family.

Knowing that my partner supports me taking an active role in his child’s life is a huge relief, and makes me feel confident that we’ll be able to keep figuring things out as we go.

What I realized this weekend is that part of loving a child and being committed to helping raise that child is being willing to play an active role in all parts of raising that child. Being all in means being all in for the frustrating moments as well as the sweet bedtime hugs.

So we keep on, each of us growing and learning each day, doing the best we can, as the little dude grows up and I grow into the role of being a Gocky.

But, uh, if any of you know how to make a three-year-old listen, call me.

♥ Jacki