Birth Story

My prenatal Yoga instructor in Savannah, GA would collect birth stories from her former students to read to her current, pregnant students. It was a lovely thing. And I would love to share mine with you now.

I had a baby about 9:20pm on May 9th, 2011. Her name is Iris. She is the most recent, precious addition to our family. Our birth was nothing short of amazing.

After my first experience with labor and delivery with my older daughter, Mirabelle, you would think I might never want to have another child. Nothing terribly dramatic happened. But labor was over 38 hours...it could have been more, but I lost count on day two. I labored my little heart out. I was unfamiliar with birthing and what to expect. Though we had a doula, though I had read some awesome books, though I had watched several thousand documentaries and Discovery Health Channel deliveries, you never know and cannot perfectly prepare for what to do with your body during your very first labor and delivery. I did my best. But after about 30 hours, I caved and allowed my husband and the hospital to push me toward an epidural. I regretted that decision for years after. For me (the only person I can speak for), it stalled my labor. Everything stopped. The medical team around me grew concerned for Mirabelle because she had been in the birth canal trying to come out, with no success for so many long hours. I was minutes away from a c-section. But then, water broke, about 10-15 minutes of pushing and there she was. Perfect and in my arms at my breast.

I had such a long and uncomfortable labor the first time for so many different reasons, I did not know how I was going to do it different this time. I was just sure of that one fact, it WAS going to be different this time.

I felt labor begin about 2:30pm the day Iris came. I was not sure if I was in labor. I had had interesting sensations and feelings all over my body all day long. I thought it was just 3rd trimester pregnancy stuff. But around the late afternoon I lazily called my husband and told him to be ready to possibly be hearing me labor that night after he got home from work...and told him, maybe do not dilly dally or go to the store on his way home...I was feeling early labor pains, I thought. Sweet as he is, he came right home anyway, just to be with me. He left work early and thank God he did!

I wanted a natural labor and birth. I just didn't want to have to think about any meds, drugs, chemicals, complications. I wanted to have the strength to go through this experience the way (I think) God intended. Should there be any concerns or risks evolving, of course I would trust the military hospital and go along with the medicinal or surgical plans they have to save me or the baby any unnecessary suffering or danger. But I just had the feeling that if I breathed and trusted myself, my higher guidance would kick in and all would flow perfectly. I was so determined for this to happen, I doubted myself greatly. A silly little voice that I know a lot of people have, like me, came out all the 9 months and I stupidly thought, I want this so bad there is no way it will happen. Because nothing ever works out.

When 5pm rolled around and my contractions were big and about 2 minutes apart. I was shocked that I didn't feel like I had a 30 hour marathon ahead of me like last time, which I fully expected. So we readied ourselves to go to the hospital to make sure everything was ok. After getting a neighbor to watch over the 3 year old. Contacted the generous Mother in law who was flying over the Pacific THAT NIGHT to "hang out until the baby came." Ha! And after double checking the hospital over night bag, off we went.

I could hardly stand any bumps, stops or starts in the car. I hated sitting. I needed motion in my body, pacing, walking, rocking, stretching. With both labors, that is all I ever wanted. No laying in a warm bath. No massages from husband or anyone. No sitting on birth balls. I just wanted to pace and move and not stop moving until it was time to push.

At 7pm we laid down in triage to check me and sure enough I was over 6 centimeters. Wow, this was going fast. I readied myself to be in labor in a hospital room for the next 8 hours or so. And then the contractions got huger and huger. I was breathing and dealing just fine until the Doctor came in and told me "he really preferred if women would just get epidurals, there was no sense wriggling all over the bed like an octopus in pain." That was precisely when my labor started to hurt and become unbearable. I did not fight with him. I just told him I didn't want that and shut my mouth. I could not talk or focus on that stupid-ness anyway, the contractions were too intense. One nurse and my husband had my back. They both told me I could do it and they supported me.

Then.....I caved.

They had mentioned pain meds that were oral and NOT an epidural earlier in the night. I ignored it then, but at this time, I was so overwhelmed and uncomfortable I did not know how to persevere. I asked the nurse for the pain meds, whatever they were. She said she had to check me first and I could not take them past 9 centimeters, but I was probably fine, she just had to make sure first. She checked me and I was 10 centimeters. And only about an hour and a half had gone by since I checked in! She told me not to push yet, even if I wanted to, she was leaving to get the stuff to ready the room for delivery. There was no opportunity for caving...I was on my own at this point. Just as I had wanted. I have to admit, I was relived I did not have to be the one to make the decision any longer.

The midwife I saw the entire 9 months was supposed to be on her way to deliver the baby. But no one thought I would progress that quickly. She never made it before go time. Everything was so intense, I just sat there and grunted from deep within my throat, lungs and belly. I know I sounded like a man who had been a trucker and thick smoker his whole heavy-drinkin'-women-chasin' life. I had nothing and I mean nothing to do but pray to my most faithful angel, my Grandma. She is who I talk to most often in prayer. I know she is with me. All. The. Time. And I know she was with me then. I really feel like she orchestrated it so I would have an amazing birth, the way I wanted. She did because I asked her to. On my last big contraction, that I can remember, I was on the hospital bed, on my side. I wanted to lay down, but laying down just did not feel right, again. I knew that if I rested, labor would slow. And if I thrust upward, this baby would come the way my body needed it to.
1. Contraction came with a vengeance.
2. I squeezed my eyes shut super tight.
3. I prayed: "Grandma, please, please, please help me!" (I could form no other thoughts)
4. I grabbed for my husband's available hand.
5. I used his strong hand and arm to heave me to an upright, seat.
6. My water breaks and I scream, "go get the Doctor I neeeed to push now!!!!"
7. Chad exits the room faster than a drug dealer runs from the cops.

In comes the nurses and Doc and I am flailing all over the table as he had predicted. The baby came right into the world with MAYBE three pushes. There she was. Iris.

The Doc said the chord was wrapped around her neck two times. But it seemed loose enough where he was not terribly concerned. She was placed almost immediately on my belly. Her crying face looked just like her big sister's. But her hair was red, eyes blue. I felt an amazing sense of relief. I had no pain. I had no stress. I had no numbness. I had no shaking. I had no doubts. I only had peace. Perfect happiness.

I absolutely do not ever judge anyone, ever who does not choose natural child birth. I know that everyone does what they think they need to do and that is perfect. But I do want to tell you, that if you or anyone you know is considering natural child birth, I can say, after having two polar opposite birth experiences:
Trust your body as God's design. It knows what it needs to do and cannot tell as easily what your instincts are asking of you if you drug yourself. I know because I have felt birth both ways. With my first labor, I caved and in came the interventions when labor stalled and one thing after another rolled out. This time, I prayed. I tried. And yes, labor was VERY fast, but I just listened to my body for 99% of labor and made it through just fine.

Recovery was amazing compared to my first birth as well. I felt flu-like symptoms with my first birth after about a week of recovery. I was down and out. No way to bond with a new one. But this time, I was on cloud nine and out shopping 2 days later. It was heaven. Truly heaven.
Thank you Gram.

Community Is Where You Make It and Where You Take It

Around the age of 25 I wrote in a manifestation journal that I aimed to be an active part of a community. I was a nomad. Never settling down as badly I wanted to. I wanted volunteering, a Yoga studio, a neighborhood, knowing people and waving to them at the mall, helping people and a calendar full of activities filling up my life. I wanted roots. A home. A home of my very own with my own garage and all my junk building dust inside it.

So I left a situation where I did not feel any of that forming and I moved to a city where I felt I wanted to create my place in it's community. In Savannah, Georgia, or anywhere one should move, it takes time. There are layers of groups of people who are the fiber to the fabric of the quilt that makes up any old American town. And you have to mingle within all the layers to create your own square and design and this can take years. I was getting there and loving it. Had my core Yoga studio where I taught and had a mini group of regulars. I had my other core studio and favorite teacher who I was hoping would teach me all the many things I had not yet mastered in my craft. I was meeting different parts of the community. Working at festivals. Learning about the progression and progresses of the town. I even found a house I wanted to stay in forever! In the garage was my junk. And then my beloved wanted to join the Army, right in the middle of a war.

Time to dust off and organize my boxes and junk......again. And not just for one move, but for many sure moves in the years to come soon. And then to say goodbye to "my" community along with all my plans for the way I wanted life to be.

Two homes later (and lots of pouting), I find myself in Okinawa, Japan. Far, far from home. Far from English speaking people. Far from my art school, my Yoga joints, my parks, my stores, my friends, my bars, my dog, my cars. And before I knew it, and without even trying, a community emerged. And a community, for me, not just on my island, but on line, on the phone, on the computer, in traveling, by mail, in letters and cards, on Skype, through meditations, on planes and boats, smiles and hugs, tears and laughter, through photo albums and books, and across my laptop keyboard in blogs. I had the strongest sense of community I had ever imagined in my life and it has been internationally.

My manifestation wish.....had manifested and not at all how I intended. That is usually how it happens, right? How we least expect.

I have to say, that the military community was the most surprising sense of love and generosity I have ever felt in my entire life. This is my new Yoga breath. I have been blessed. I am a lucky girl and have had a pretty great life as lives go. But the kindness and giving I have been shown since overseas is absolutely mind blowing. It has taught me how to give from now, for the rest of my days. There is one way to say it, how I will from now on and forever be: A BIG GIVER. We have no family over here, so just immediately become family for one another. You just do. It is the only way. It is the very human spirit shining through rough times. There is nothing as kind as a military wife. I have never met anyone else so amazing.

If you need a hand when you have to go to the hospital, or find directions to a new park, are out of cash or need a lift somewhere, a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to listen, the military community is there for you. And this is how the entire world should operate.

I have become part of a book club, both in person and virtually. I have been given the fanciest baby hand me downs from swings to over priced, like new baby carriers. I have tasted home cooked food, babysat, had folks baby sit for me, had help with child rearing, volunteered at amazing functions, been given my own art show, had help with groceries and auto problems and I have soaked up the huge love and fully intend to give it back as much if not more.

Lately, I see friends and co-workers on line from Australia to the UK, the US and back to Japan. I appreciate my crazy husband so much. After fighting with him for roughly 8 months about his joining the Army, I finally gave in. I agreed to it all when I realized, and for the soul reason, that anything I opposed this much has got to be my greatest opportunity for learning, lessons and growth. Plus he has this unknown chemical, I assume, that makes it so I cannot stay away from him no MATTER WHAT. Bastard.

And it has been my greatest adventure. The past few years have been the best in my life. Life keeps getting better, too. I am so incredibly grateful for the people who I have met. The people who have driven for me, shown me the way, helped me, promoted my art, painted for me, moved my family and our junk, provided for me, loved me, pushed me, supported me, called me and I cannot even see an end to this list.

It is my duty to give back to my community. And the community I have found, is a global one.

Who'd uh thunk?!

Someone up there is dreaming a dream for me, bigger than I could have ever imagined for myself, and I live and bow in humble gratitude.

Whoa! Where have I been? Buddhas, Bellies and Bazaars.

Hey y'all. I have not posted a blog in roughly 13 weeks! My last one was about feeling my first belly kicks from the baby down below. So we have traveled quite a bit together this baby and I ever since the last post. Bout time for a new one. And I am a bit overwhelmed and Mercury Retrograde is either looming, or already here. I refuse to google it and worry about it by finding the exact date of start and finish. It would freak me and my labor plans and thoughts about Japan out. So, I am acknowledging it's presence and moving slowly along. Point being, I am not mapping out a super planned out blog. I am just practicing a brain drain here for those who care to read and connect with moi. And for you whoever you are, I love you.

I am so excited about a web site of mine that should be done about May-ish. My "lifestyle web site." It will harbor all of my passion, love, tips, networks, people I admire, things for sale, art, detailed vital nutrition info, possibility and growth all in one place. That will be found here: http://taohappiness.com/ like I said, in about 2 months.

I went to Tai Pei, Taiwan! I got a clear vision in my mind's eye, of great Buddhas and mountainous deities and me with them and marveling at them, when my husband came home from work in Augusta, Georgia one 2009 day and announced "we are moving to Japan." Little did I know, the Japan I experience has little to none of this deity action!!! Sure, I am betting mainland has these statues and great stone temples like those I learned about in Far Eastern Asian Art History class in college. But, Okinawa, not so much. There is actually a huge void of spirituality here. They pray to their ancestors and the family tombs are everywhere and quite inspirational. Some of them look like this:
(these are called Turtleback tombs)

But I cannot connect with, enjoy, or at all feel a part of this spirituality. I cannot really connect to the spirituality I saw in Taiwan either, but at least it was a site to behold to be standing at the foot of a mountain and witness a shrine the size of Ohio. Or be able to see how certain sects meditate and pray with incense.

I have recently learned and fully understood the argument that Buddhism is NOT a religion. It is a philosophy alone. I think many people like to call it their religion when they don't seem to want to become a part of any particular group, church or label and they connect with the majority of ideas of Buddhism. And that's great. It seems to be a heated debate. Stated well here on this link, even though I don't fully agree with everything this author wrote (her opinion highly guiding the article, which I think should be left out), it still is a good example of the discussion at hand: http://buddhism.about.com/od/basicbuddhistteachings/a/philosophy.htm
BUT
There seems to be a rich religious following of Buddhism in the newest part of Asia I have started to explore and it was really refreshing to see. I feel a bit sorry for the Okinawans sometimes when they seem so empty of faith of any kind. There are Buddhist temples here and churches but not as much as anywhere else I have ever been. But I am also quite sure I have not fully understood the Okinawans yet and hope to by the time my three years is up here...which is coming rather soon! Either way, I prayed and prayed hard at the welcoming shrines we visited where they offered to teach us how to make a "wish" to the shrines. And each prayer was for my health, the health of my growing baby in the belly and for the health and success of my entire family. Oddly, this is starting to sound quite like a far Eastern auspicious wish. I think I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning......

Another reason for the lack of blog was the art show!!! I was asked to participate in a crafty Bazaar for the USO. Japanese and American vendors sat side by side all selling their wares, art, pottery, instruments, furniture, jewelery and on and on. It exhausted me, even though I had great help setting up and sat on my butt in a chair the entire weekend. It exhausted me. I do not regret participating in it. But I did learn that this sort of networking is not really for me. And lessons are always good to learn. Needless to say, my large inventory of matted prints for sale are still very much for sale if anyone is interested in some great art prints already matted to frame and hang in your home, Yoga space or office. Another great reason for my web site launch. No, I did not sell much. but the people I met brightened my life. And that was invaluable.

More on art. I am now working as a contract, freelance illustrator! Did you hear that Dad, who so kindly paid for my college, and favorite Illustration teacher Traci Haymans, who has, since my graduation, sadly passed away?? Did you hear or read what I just wrote???!!! I recently found this in memory of Traci, my favorite teacher of all time, really: http://www.eduinreview.com/scholarships/traci-haymans-memorial-scholarship-175512/ (she was my absolute favorite art teacher and died way too young)
Yea, so I am working, working and so grateful for it. I never, ever, ever thought I would be a military wife. Ever. Just so you know for effect how much I cannot believe it. And I never, ever thought I would be a professional illustrator either. But the Universe works in mysterious ways. God is good. And what we do, our talents, our desires, they come out. No matter how hard we try to deny them. And if we try hard to deny them, we might succeed by starving ourselves to an early walking grave of a life. We may succeed. But what are people going to talk about when we are gone? What we ever did that was strong, or a gift. So it comes out again. Eventually. So don't struggle, I am saying. Your path is laid out. Your gifts, given to you at birth. They are there. They will feed you. You just have to believe, weather you understand what they are or not, that they are there and each of us has a purpose.

I am eager to teach my new daughter about all of this! All of my travels, things I have learned about money and gifts, working with people and for yourself. On and on. And all of this I have learned and gelled together since she has been growing in my belly. So I cannot help but believe she is an angel coming to meet me and teach me, her Daddy and big sister. I think she will have something to show us all. She will be a pearl of wisdom and beauty. And I feel so grateful for everything around this pregnancy, my lucky travels, my healthy family and for the work that I find myself engrossed in these days.

Namaste everyone.
Keep the faith.
More soon.

kicks and tricks

I finally am feeling the kicks!!! It seemed to take forever. I am now 20 weeks on the day of Christmas eve.

So thankful for this soon-to-be baby and for my first Christmas where my 3 year old actually understands Santa and holiday love-ness. So we just stocked up the tree with Santa's goodies, Barbie skates, bikes, books, buzz light years, toys and tricks. The first year where magic returns to my home. And I love it.

I miss my parent's home.

But sending many hugs, many smiles, much cheer to all from many miles.

Love, Bec
CHRISTmas in Japan....again....2010

~much to be thankful for this year and prayers to all.

We Found God In Primavera

I had to share this one.

Now I have NEVER been into food, or cooking or spending more than five minutes in the kitchen. But between educating myself of the JUNK that is put in so many packaged foods and even non-organic produce and having children, I started becoming very interested in food, the kitchen, new utensils and living to the fullest through nutrition.

We eat 3 meals a day and several snacks (if you are like me). And while, the earth's soil is depleted to where nutrients are hard to get into the bod, I still care about the quality of the food I make for my kids, soldier husband and my pregnant self. So when I find a meal that is easy, super duper yummy (and that DUPER is no joke, it HAS to be gooood) AND healthy, I simply MUST pass it on.

So I found this recipe off the side of a whole wheat pasta box!!! I tweaked it a little and changed it for myself and fam and have named it:

Rebecca's Pre-Madonna Primavera
(I am most certainly boasting at being a beginner "cook")

Ingredients
1 box of any spaghetti
2 Tbsp. of olive oil
2 small or 1 large Zucchini, thinly sliced
1 Red or Yellow Bell Pepper, cut into Julienne strips
1 Green Bell Pepper, cut into Julienne strips
2 cloves Garlic, minced
1 cup low fat Milk
1/2 cup grated Parmesan Cheese, divided
1/2 cup grated Mozzerella or Provolone cheese
1 tsp fresh Basil (or I buy the jarred basil sold next to the garlic/olive oil in the jar)
1 tsp Oregano
1/2 tsp. Sea Salt (or more to taste)
1/2 tsp. fresh cracked Pepper

Cook spaghetti according to package directions; drain. Meanwhile, when that is boiling, in a large skillet, heat oil and saute zucchini, bell peppers, and garlic until the veggies are JUST tender. Stir in milk, then 1/4 cup of parm, all of mozz and seasonings until all blended evenly. Heat through until slightly thickened, being careful not to boil!!! Toss hot, cooked spaghetti with sauteed vegetable mixture. Serve sprinkled with remaining cheese. Serves 6.

(or I just kept the pasta seperate and spooned the sauce over the plated portions of pasta...either way)

Very QUICK, HEALTHY, SUPER YUMMY And SOOOOOO EASY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Enjoy and Kanpai!!!!!!!!

I Remembered My Most Peaceful Moment Today

When I was around the age of 15, I had yet to study Yoga or meditation. That started around the age of 18, thank God. But one fine summer day somewhere in my 15th year came a gift, a blessing. I was on a visit to my big sister Megan's college at Indiana University, Indiana and we went about 30 minutes away on a day trip to a rock quarry swimming area in the wilderness. Megan and her friend were chatting and I swam off. The sun was shining, kissing this magical water. I did not feel the least bit lonely. I found a rock. A perfect giant cube of my own. I climbed up onto it with ease. It had about one inch of water above the perfectly flat top of it. I laid down on the on the rock, my face up toward the sun. The water made a perimeter outline all around my body. The sun warmed me. The shallow water atop this rock cooled me back down. And back and forth. I closed my eyes and rested there in Savasana style pose for I have no idea how long. It was one of my very first moments in life of pure, clean, natural relaxation and perfect bliss. How badly I must have needed that being in high school! It was an extreme gift of a moment for me.

Today, I was practicing prenatal Yoga, led by the amazing Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa
( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=du2LOQ_fDuw ) and I was taken right back to my moment on the rock. As life goes along, whenever I find myself feeling really good in the present, about all my current choices, I tend to always remember really special long ago experiences, the ones that are really deep, tucked away memories not thought of for some time. I felt this quarry memory as it came back to me in a moving meditation today. And all I can say is Wahhh!!!....and thank you Gurmukh.

A Heartfelt Standing Ovation to Mrs. Andreadis

She was my art teacher in elementary school. I had two different art teachers throughout my seven years at Ayer Elementary. Both incredible women. Ms. Bellamy (she had to go by mizz) was truly rockin' as well, owning super unique fashion, simply profound advice, great art projects, a laid back ever-present smile and oodles of creativity. Ms. Bellamy was also so gorgeous, it was like watching an ocean sunset to see her lay down a giraffe shape on construction paper with a Crayola and then color it in perfectly with gradients as though she were using fine, professional artist's tools costing way more than that simple box of 24. Everyone loved Ms. Bellamy. But it was something that Mrs. Andreadis said to me that truly stuck in my brain, my psyche and it has been coming back and back to me over the recent days, years and in different snippets throughout my life.

Right now I find myself trying to be a good parent. I found myself being a Mom long before I ever planned it. It seemed to be my destiny, and I embraced it. I am sure most people are not 100% square with themselves and living within the perfect ego balance, esteem and spirituality (wait, is anyone ever this way other than the Buddha or Jesus?) before becoming a parent. But I wished I had conquered some of those demons and learned some of those lessons before embarking on screwing up yet another young soul. Alas, Mirabelle is here and she has no choice but to learn about life right along with me, mistakes, tantrums and all (referring to my own tantrums, of course).

As I go through my (seemingly) never ending library of self-help books and enlightenment goal oriented guided meditations, I learn over and over that who we are as adults is very much created upon the way we were/are spoken to as children. I try to remember this when I am flashing a glare and some intelligent words like "are you insane!!??" at the fragile little three year old who just snatched and flattened out my new, $20, perfectly fine tipped paint brush. And I constantly compare how I am with my daughter to experiences I had growing up. It turns out, it is not all our parent's fault, says Geneen Roth in her latest awesome book, Women Food and God. It is every adult that has ever spoken to us before the age of about four and a few years following, who contributes in, molds and determines our internal dialogue with ourselves as adults, also sometimes known as the ego, conscience or self esteem. And in reading about this, I think of experiences that stand out to me, ways I was spoken to both positively and negatively at a young age that stand out and I can actually recall in detail.

One time in first grade, I had a teacher bug her eyes out of their sockets and tell me that my opinion was horrific and terribly wrong! She was teaching us about famous people who had gotten assassinated (deep subject for 1st graders, I know!). Well, not understanding what assassination even meant, I asked "why would the people with guns just not shoot the victims in the leg or arm or somewhere they could not be killed?" And then her reaction came forth. I will never forget it. She was appalled I even suggested they be shot at all. I didn't understand any of it. And all I knew was that I was standing up, speaking out, trying to understand it all and she made me feel awful, embarrassed, dirty, evil, singled out and scared (ok, I am a little hyper sensitive, but I got that from my Mom). As all adults do, they try to teach us right from wrong and with force and serious feeling so we do not ever forget. I do not hold any hate for that teacher, she didn't know she was negatively effecting a 6 year old and ruining her self confidence completely. But also, I do not recall anything lovely happening in her class either. It really makes me think about the way in which I correct and rear my daughter now that I know these things.

One moment that sparkled for me in my mind's bank of stand out events from childhood, was one statement and really more, a certain smile that felt like a warm hug that I had been waiting on for my entire life that came from Mrs. Andreadis. I have no idea how old I was when she taught my art class. I would guess somewhere between the 3rd and 5th grades. She was not as flashy as Ms. Bellamy. She was much more reserved and quiet. I didn't understand her way of being as well as my other art teacher. Mrs. Andreadis dressed like she was going to be working in a wood shop all day...but with a vest on, that looked like it belonged to a 3 piece men's suit. She was interesting and tame and much more reserved than my other teachers. She was not scary or the least bit cross, but not totally approachable either. In her class one day, we all were on our own doing an art project. I thought nothing of this project. I didn't hate it, I didn't love it. I just did it. Just like all my other school work, I usually failed at or did average with, I approached art the same. I just went through the motions with no passion or excitement. And when I stood up to show the teacher I was done and on my way to sit the wet project to dry somewhere at the other end of the classroom, she stopped me in my tracks. She looked over the news paper mache-type, yellow duck I had constructed and brightly painted with a nice, neat orange beak. She smiled at the duck and then at me. She was in no hurry. She looked at me, taking her time and said with the warmest smile, "you like to do art, don't you?" I smiled and nodded to her and she sent me on to set it down. As I said, I didn't necessarily like art any more than boring Social Studies or annoying Arithmetic. But I told her I did because I thought that was what she wanted me to say in that moment.

I probably did not think about that moment again for the rest of elementary or High School. But where am I now? How did it effect me? I am currently working as a professional, custom Fine Artist and Designer. I realized, as a 31 year old adult, that that was the first really, really, feel good, authentic, I-had-a-deep-connection-with-compliment that I was ever given. And I have never forgotten that moment, like most of my elementary school experience which I have seemed to have blocked out or have buried very deep away. She saw something in my work. And it unconsciously effected me so dramatically, that I moved deeper into the arts in junior and high school. I then chose and knew in my 17 year old bones that art was all I ever really saw myself doing until I got old and then chose a fancy art college to attend and graduate from.

Somehow in the world of a major arts school community, I got to believing that art was never going to sustain me financially and really that I was just one of a million or not good enough of an artist to ever thrive with it professionally. I have yet to uncover where that idea originated, but I don't need to dig up all wounds now do I? Nevertheless, I believed it and at graduation I left art behind like a bad habit and dove into job after meaningless job of "good" benefits, 40+ hours a week, semi-sustainable pay, a ladder to climb and oddly enough, no college degree required...in ANY of the jobs I got and took on. It only took about ten years of aimless wandering, falling into this or that, getting fired or quitting and feeling my soul dry up and crackle more than the Mojave to push me into a deep space of hurt, anguish, soul-searching and meditation.

After many years of trying, trying and trying at different jobs, careers, titles (some of them even good-hearted and decent ones) what emerged without me even knowing it was, my art. Talent. What I enjoy. The only thing I ever enjoyed without trying, just being, and Mrs. Andreadis saw it in me, at a very young age. Her kind spirit was like an oracle in my early life defining the future I never knew was coming.

I have been with life coaches, done hypno-therapy, Yoga out the yin yang, worked with therapists, done meditation and karmic healings-a-plenty, and when I felt at the brink of all this inner work, out came art work, without even my choosing it and after almost a ten year break of not doing anything creative or artistic. I was studying the details of The Secret, a book on CD I bought and listened to about 500 times over the past 5 years. It taught me to focus on; not the journey so much, but the destination. Don't watch the agonizing step by step of the stair case, just believe, KNOW and focus on the fact that you will find your way to the top. You are a worthy body of substance. And I started to have true gratitude for everything and anything, focus on my goals of being a fortuned stay-at-home Mom who made an amazing income and successfully if not fully supported her family. And I had a business plan in mind, a good one, with action steps going forth, underway. And all those plans started to fall away when I met one lady who asked me if I could donate something artsy or crafty to her shop and from there, then another woman who needed an art project done for a loved one, then another, then another, then a man who needed a special painting for an anniversary gift, then a stranger, then another who started requesting and commissioning my artwork knowledge and skills.

Out of the infinite darkness, against all odds, a way was made, but not at all in the field I expected. It was the deepest part of me. My art, my first real compliment in life, that ignited my cellular makeup. And it is rooted in me as my most sacred childhood memory. And it has, without me ever knowing it until now, molded my entire life's legacy. My elementary school art teacher, Mrs. Andredis, you gave me something to have authentic confidence in that shaped the deepest parts of my brain, thoughts and heart. Mrs. Andreadis, you recognized a glimmer of light in a very dark little girl. And for that, I stand up and applaud you for your teaching, your talents, your time you took with me, your quiet smile, your life-altering kindness toward me and all children, and the compliment you gave to me that one day over a lumpy, yellow, flimsy duck. I also humbly get down on my knees and bow to you for all of this. Your kindness to me was the seed that has sprouted my life's tree of abundance while living this recognized joyful, happy, heartfelt path. And I cannot thank you enough.