oh, mexico
last week herndon heald hit sayulita, the charming mexican town where ian and i got hitched two years ago.
i relished just lounging with mark and naomi for a few days.
circus
these days are crazy. i forget how loco it gets at herndon heald in the summertime, our busiest time of year. this time around, however, my pace is even more frenetic. my daughter is almost a year old and i feel like i’ve been moving so fast since her birth that i’ve hardly had time to catch my breath. how do i maintain poise while owning a bustling business and nurturing a family? how do i fully engage in both of these creative and demanding endeavors and still find space for me? i choose this circus so how do i take pleasure in the balancing act?
mostly i feel light - swimming in gratitude, floating on top of it even. but some of these long hectic days – one on top of the other - i feel damn heavy, like any minute i’ll surely go down with the whole mad sinking ship.
how do all the women out there do it? and seemingly gracefully?
mark and naomi and i all wear many hats as business owners. making jewelry is only one aspect but man, is it an enjoyable one. right now i am making peace necklaces. for some time each day i get to sit down, be quiet, and let my hands work to ease my mind. finding peace in the midst of chaos can be challenging. i'm grateful that these days i can look down at my work and be reminded of it.
water
i remember the moment i fell in love with making jewelry. i had just become a goldsmith’s apprentice and one morning as i sat at my bench filing a gold ring, i looked up towards the open window and saw the santa fe sun illuminating the gold dust that was suspended in the air floating ever...so...slowly.... i felt for one moment like i was suspended also, a little particle of gold dust. the moment passed, but it left me with a greater admiration for the metals I use in all of their forms. i still stare in wonder at gold or silver as it melts into a glowing liquid and then becomes solid again. before making jewelry, i thought of metal as hard but i have now become acquainted with its many manifestations. i know that what is hard is also soft, what is solid can also be fluid. i am reminded that potential is often veiled by appearance.
this is true with water as well – it holds surprising power in its fluidity. i’ve been contemplating water lately, offering daily gratitude for it. it’s summertime in texas already and we're sweatin' it out in the summer sun. i'm thanking my lucky stars that i’m in austin just a hop, skip, and a jump from fresh, clear water.
we have barton springs, an enormous natural pool down the street - she’s a real beaut. she covers 3 acres, is fed from underground springs and is about 68 degrees year round. when we get the chance, we frolic there in the daytime and do laps under the stars at night. our other option is just a few blocks away in the greenbelt – 809 treasured acres of green tucked in the middle of town. limestone cliffs tower all around it and hike and bike trails meander through it, but in my opinion, the swimming holes are the crown jewels – little pleasure havens dotted throughout the greenbelt that beckon on sizzling afternoons. there isn’t always water in the greenbelt so when it’s there, we rejoice.
i carry a heaviness around with me these days as my thoughts frequently return to the oil spill in the gulf - the tainted water, the departed souls, the wounded ocean life. As the oil continues to spill, i am reminded that water is precious - more precious than gold.
mamas day
last mothers day, koruna was sitting breech in my belly, stretching my body, my heart, and my imagination.
for months we knew koruna was breech. she tucked her head up under my ribcage and wouldn’t budge. I chose to think of it as her desire to be near my heart and that helped (a very little bit) with my frustration. I had long envisioned koruna’s natural birth and her position seemed to alter that vision completely. our midwives would not deliver a breech baby to a first-time mother and no doctor in austin would do it either. we researched the risks and truly believed that a natural birth was still our best option.
ian and I did everything we could think of to change koruna’s position. I elevated my hips for 20 minutes 3 times a day. I did yoga, got regular chiropractic care (the webster technique for turning babies), acupuncture, moxa, mayan abdominal massage. I went swimming at barton springs almost every day, turning flips and diving deep under water. ian laid his head on my pelvis and sang to koruna, flashed lights at her, read books to her. we went in for 3 external versions (a procedure in which a doctor uses what seems like all of his or her might to turn the baby manually). and koruna didn’t move. she was certain that she was where she wanted to be.
and so I tried to trust the unfathomable wisdom of my child and to find the poetry in surrender. a week and a half before koruna was born, we were ecstatic to find in denton, texas an extraordinary doctor schooled in the art of breech birth. koruna’s entry into this world was remarkable. and there hasn’t been a dull moment since.
last mothers day I knew I had a daughter. this mothers day I know she is koruna.
