The Sweetest Reasons

I Just Stopped

I'm not sure when I was last on here. It feels like ages. And I haven't even missed it. I wasn't sure I wanted to even write this. I just wanted to stop, and I think it might continue on this way for some time. Apologies if you read this with some regularity. I keep looking at the internet and find myself confused about it's purpose. And then I start thinking about my identity within it, and it just goes down the rabbit hole from there.

Spring is here. The days are lighter and warmer. I want to be out in them and not here with this laptop.

My photography has changed and it excites me. The 365 Project is still going strong, as I hit photo 100. I might throw something up about the project so far here, in a few days. I"m glad to be doing it, though it does frustrate me to no end at times. Some additional pressure and deadlines, all self-imposed.

And that's it, isn't it. No one makes me spend all my time here (or there or anywhere) on the computer. I do it to myself. And I don't want to do it right now (or anymore?). I want to detox from the consumerism. I want to scrub my eyes clear of the constant visual barrage of "really cool stuff." I want to listen to music on the radio, in the car, on our way to somewhere beautiful. I don't want to watch television. I want to read a book, not a kindle.

So the hiatus continues.

Go peacefully.

Picture This

It's 1995. I'm listening to Tori Amos's Little Eartquakes for the 5,000th time. I'm reading poetry in bed, writing obsessively in my journal, and crying intermitently. Oh, sorry mom, also smoking out my bedroom window.

Basically, in 2012, I'm doing the same thing, only now I'm listening to The Dead, and it's not so bleak.

(Please smile as you read this. Today was shitty. I know this too shall pass.)

To Do

Instead of making New Year's resolutions, I think it more appropriate to write down the things I know and want to do this upcoming year. Less pressure. In no particular order . . .

• Take advantage of all the hiking and nature around us.
• Take up paddle boarding and kayaking.
• Break out my sewing machine and really learn to sew.
• Launch my professional solo website: Olivia Gatti Photography. Click Click Love is still going strong, happily, but I am ready for more work and have the opportunity to do this with another venue. Can't wait to reveal it in the upcoming weeks!
• Travel to London and see my sister.
• Hanley Family West Coast Reunion!
• Lose a little of this holiday/happy fat. Hello treadmill!
• Find a new yoga practice.
• Make time for meditation.
• Explore a more whole food/vegetarian diet.
• Take a photo everyday this year for a 365 Photo project.
• Put together several manuscripts I have sitting around.
• Work with the local library in promotions and PR.
• Keep knitting and knitting and knitting.
• Wear red lipstick more often.

I'm sure more will pop up throughout the year, but I feel like it's a good start. This past year was one of the most difficult I have ever been through. But it has ended on such a high note, and I feel confident that it will only get better. Something in my mind and heart and inner-peace has clicked, and for that, I am grateful for what this year has taught me.

Bring it on, 2012!

Happy New Year to you all!

xo

To Steve Jobs

Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.--Buddah

You sir, not only lived wisely, but bravely. I'm sorry you have left the world so soon, with family and friends who surely miss you more than anyone else could. But you helped changed my simple world, by connections with your tools, you allowed me to become an artist and storyteller, and to teach young people how to learn and dream. Ultimately, you passed around wisdom or at least the option to chose knowledge. You gave us all little pieces of this.

Go in peace.

Yesterday & Today

Ysterday, I sat outside of yoga class, in my car, on the phone, crying. I was finally talking to someone about things brewing in my life. I tend to hide away from people when things are hard for me. I push lots of good people away, or ignore them. I hate to spread my sadness. Or worry. Or anything not wonderful or happy. But last night, I just had to talk to one of my dearest friends. I had to unburden myself a bit. And, as expected, it was a great release.

Today, I went through some emails she had sent me that I had glossed over in the past few weeks. And she sent me this project below. This is why I call her.

Something Inside

Has awakened.

The greatest achievement is selflessness.
The greatest worth is self-mastery.
The greatest quality is seeking to serve others.
The greatest precept is continual awareness.
The greatest medicine is the emptiness of everything.
The greatest action is not conforming with the worlds ways.
The greatest magic is transmuting the passions.
The greatest generosity is non-attachment.
The greatest goodness is a peaceful mind.
The greatest patience is humility.
The greatest effort is not concerned with results.
The greatest meditation is a mind that lets go.
The greatest wisdom is seeing through appearances.

Atisha (11th century Tibetan Buddhist master)

Maybe this seems totally out of place. I haven't spoken much about religion or beliefs, nor do I plan to here (except this just once). I cannot deny that in the past few months, and dare I say, since college when I studied Eastern Religion, something about Buddhism sort of made sense. I can also say, I hardly understood it then, and only now does it move me, deeply, yet still remains a mystery.

When I think of the Buddah story, I want to cry out in joy. A true release. Because, maybe, all along, I was always my own master. I could see God in every leaf and sunset. I could feel a stranger's pain. I have always felt. It always felt like too much.

I never knew what to do with it. I was frustrated. Judgemental. Afraid. Joyful. Overwhelmed. I still am.

Buddah's teachings are vast. They have traveled though time and cultures and somehow I stumbled upon them, when, of course, I needed a guide no one else could quite become.

I am deeply, profoundly comforted by Buddah. More so than the religion I was given and raised in. I do not turn away from my past. I seek to incorporate it in this next part of my life. I am ready and willing to learn. To finally look inside myself.

I'm on my way back to where I started . . .

Stuck in rush hour traffic this morning. Gray, hot, humid. My mind racing. My 10-year wedding anniversary. Homeschooling lessons. Buddah. (Seriously.) So to shut my mind down, I hit the radio and this song came on.

Our house is officially on the market. We have been spending some time driving around little, sleepy towns North of Boston. Farm land and beaches. Old, old houses. It's what we prefer. I know we will find a new home. I know we will. I just think it all is calling us back to the where we started. The boy from Vermont and the girl from the beach. Our new home will have these things. They are the things we return to, the places we will always go to.

Reality

Running out of the house this morning to make it to Music and Movement, as I went for my keys, I spied this little arrangement and had to snap a quick pic. This couldn't better sum up my life right now. And while both do wonderful jobs, please, oh, please, don't confuse the two!

Search

“We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.” -Anton Chekov

Written on the mural outside of Fornax Bakery in Roslindale Village. It is what keeps me going while my head spins and my heart hurts and my mind dreams. If I started writing about everything that is going on right now, it would come out like a rushing gyser, out of control and big. So I'm holding on to it a little longer. Sharing the story with some of my closest friends and family and working, working, working.

One thing I have to say, and something I will probably say often (to the point of their annoyance), is that I couldn't be more blessed to have the friends I have. There will never be a proper way to thank those of you who drove through the night, scraped paint, laid floors, made meals, shared a drink or a laugh or a phone call or a game of Settlers. It is overwhelming how much love I have felt. Powerful stuff. I am in your debt forever. I will never forget your kindness.

A Do-Nothing Day

Today was a Do-Nothing Day. At least that was what I was telling myself as I was putting Josie to bed, getting angrier and angrier at her irrational and exhausted behavior. Spiraling. We were both spiraling. She was only getting more tired by each passing second, and so, getting more unbalanced. Angry one moment, crying the next, agreeing with me suddenly, and then flinging herself into a full-star, holding it and wailing. Tired. Kid.

And I knew this. I know this. And I know getting angry at her is totally irrational too. She can't control herself. She is two and a half years old. I am 32. But I was tired too. And cranky. The day was hot; stifling, actually. And gray. And I told myself it was going to be an easy day, a Do-Nothing Day. No plans. No expectations. We were all going to just chill out, okay? Okay!?!?! (I know, judging by this blog, we look like we are always doing something. Truth is, we do "do a lot." But I also cherish days when we do very little. Pajamas and television all day, even on nice days ((gasp!)). Ice pops, popcorn and blueberries for dinner. Maybe also lunch. Maybe cookies for lunch instead. Doing nuthin. I/We are very good at that, too. I just don't often blog about it, because it's pretty unattractive and very private.) And so, I thought today was going to be one of those good Do-Nothing Days. I was, in fact, very wrong.

Jo was tired, cranky, and pissed. Me: The same. Why was she giving me such a hard time tonight? (Besides the obvious, but I wasn't looking for obvious tonight.) Didn't I:

1. Take you and your sister to gymnastics class first thing this morning?
2. Take you and your sister to Old Navy and bought you both new nightgowns and flip-flops?
3. Take you and your sister to the Thrift Store and allow you both to get a new-to-you treat?
4. Come home and let you watch television?
5. Make you grilled cheese with bacon and soda and chocolate milk for lunch?
6. Play playdough?
7. Let you both watch more television?
8. Clean up two pee accidents and one poop (on the rug)?
9. Because I was caring for your sore behind from summer diapers and the beach, a la, airring it out?
10. Run three loads of laundry due to all the accidents?
11. Get you and your sister into dress-up?
12. Download classical music so we could play ballet?
13. And then spin around with you while dancing? Forever.
14. Go outside?
15. More TV?
16. Make you and your sister chicken burgers, veggies and buttery pasta for dinner (washed down with the rest of your can of soda)?

This was a Do-Nothing Day? I think not. You had an awesome day for a little, little kid. Why are you gripping at me?

And during her gibberish, as I bear-wrestled her into a rocking chair to put her under for the day, she stopped thrashing. Her tired eyes rolling in her head, and Josie looked up at me with all sincerity and asked: What song did the little fairies sing to Dorothy Gale? (Josie is very into The Wizard of Oz right now, since seeing the play with my folks when we were in New York last.) And I knew the song, The Lullaby Guild. So I sang it to her. And then she mumbled, "What happens next, Mumma?" So I sang her Follow the Yellow Brick Road, and of course, I wasn't angry anymore. And of course she fell deep asleep.

Once downstairs, I still had my Bea, who was also on the sleep-deprived side of life. But then she started to ask me: What is a laser? What's the difference between a woodwind and a flute? Did you know Laila has a wood flute? That's what kids play. What do you wear to gymnastics? Did you notice that on TV June's earrings are blue, but on my doll they are pink? Some houses are made out of trees. All wood comes from trees. They cut down trees and chop and then they scrape down a piece and then they cut. And that's how they make wood. Oh, and then they paint the wood . . .Did you notice? Why is it called the Leaning Tower of Pisa?

And it still isn't time for Bea to go to bed yet . . .

*I didn't just jot this down for pity, I'm totally happy and smiling over all this now. This is the stuff I'm sure I'll forget, and I just need to put it somewhere so that a few memories like this really stick. Hope you enjoyed the ride.