How a young wife and mom lives as a diva, despite her domesticated (albeit wonderful) life.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The art of relaxation
There are some things in life we are born good at, there's no denying it, we have a natural God given gift and talent. One of those things for me, is relaxing. I LOVE to relax. This entry is all about setting up the perfect bath and meditation I use to help myself relax.
My bath sweetner of choice is Epsom salt and an essential oil I'm in the mood for. I buy all of my oils through the DoTerra company. They are quite simply the best producer of essential oil in the world once you've used their oils you will never use anything else. I favor grapefruit for a pick me up and their serenity blend for relaxation. Be sure and light your candle, have a cool glass of water or your favorite juice nearby and some gentle music. My favorite relaxing music is "Sleep" by lifescapes.
As I lounge in my bath, I like to meditate. Sometimes I listen to a guided meditation cd, I like "Getting into the Vortex" personally. Or I read a meditation written by Maureen Garth from one of her popular guided meditation books for children. Or I fall back on my own favorite meditation in which I imagine the light and energy of kind loving hands hovering just above my body starting at the top of my head. As the hands pass over my head and slowly move across me, ending with my feet, I concentrate on each area of my body the hands hover over and focus on relaxing that part of my body. As the hands move toward my feet, I imagine all negative energy or ill health is gently being pushed toward my feet and pours out the bottom of my feet. As soon as the stress and anxiety touch the air (or water in the bath) it is released as golden light, and is transformed into health and vitality. The most important part of this meditation is simply to not let your mind wander. It may take a while to imagine moving from the top of your head to your tippy toes, don't let your thoughts veer off.
I also find it helpful to imagine the healing hands hovering over me are those of my husband, as he is the one person I feel most safe and secure with, and who's love I trust implicitly.
So my divas, take some time today and go relax. You'll be happy you did, trust me. I think one of the easiest talents to foster is that of pampering and loving oneself. Most people just don't take the time to do it, but once you do, I think you'll find it comes quite naturally.
Take a hot bath with bubbles
Forget all your troubles!
The Domestic Diva
Friday, February 11, 2011
Paper Hearts.
Ugh. Stupid. Deployment. I miss him. I miss hearing the doorknob turn and that flutter I feel in my chest as he steps through the door, at the end of the day. I miss racing into his arms for my hug. I miss the way he laughs and says "Hey little buddy" to Scotty as he sits down to take off his boots and Scotty plays with the laces. I miss his smile. I miss the sound of his voice saying my name. I miss being asked how my day was. I miss snumbling with him as we fall asleep. I miss him holding my hand in the car while we drive to the grocery store. I miss him telling me how good dinner was, even if it's left over chicken soup for the third night in a row. I miss him telling me I'm beautiful. I miss his kisses. I miss him rubbing my feet. But most of all, I miss those three wonderful words only he can say to make my heart soar.
I want him to come home. I'm sad. I'm lonely. I miss my husband. I can't sleep. It's so impossible to go to bed without him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I wish he could at least call. So I could hear those words I need to hear so much, in his voice. The only voice that matters. I miss the sound of his voice...I miss the magic of those words.
Tonight I cut out a heart, and I wrote the words I so long to hear him say, on that heart. Then I taped it on something that reminded me of his love.
My beautiful apricot colored coach purse. A gift for our third wedding anniversary, I'd been admiring it for weeks. He'd noticed....
Then I saw this. This reminded me of his love too, my beautiful white gold necklace with journey diamonds. A birthday present while we were still dating. I turned 23 that year, in just one more year we'd be married. He wrote me a poem with this gift, a beautiful poem I still read often. I cut out another heart, and taped it next to the necklace.
But hanging up next to the first necklace was another reminder of his love, so I cut out another heart and placed it next to the plumeria flower necklace he'd bought for me on impulse at the mall, because a passerby said it looked stunning as I tried it on, because we'd honeymooned in Maui and he wished he could take me back, because plumeria's are my favorite flower on earth, because he loved me.
On my dresser next to where the necklaces hung sat my perfume, including the Chanel No. 5 which he'd just given me as a Christmas gift. "Every woman should own a bottle of Chanel No. 5" I'd explained to him. "It's the epitome of feminism and allure." Whether he agreed or not, he bought me the perfume. I cut out another heart.
Then I looked at our nightstands. We'd driven an hour in search of an antique shop I'd seen an ad for in a magazine, I thought it would be fun to explore. There we found a nightstand. He generously bought it for me without a moment's hesitation. Simply because I thought it was perfect. The books on my nightstand, the
e-bay lamps to read my books by. This called for more hearts...
The closet full of clothes because refit was tough and he thought a few extra dollars might help distract me through his 180 work week, the couch he bought me in South Carolina. The bed we sleep in every night. The food in our refrigerator, the goodies in our pantry all there because he worked so hard to provide for our family. I raced to the office to cut more hearts.
The art projects I've been doing, the paper I was cutting hearts out of! The scissors to cut the paper! The pictures, the dishes in our cupboards, the computer I'm writing at, the car I drive, the ring on my finger. All here because he was willing to leave our family and go do his job. More hearts.
The washing machine, the dryer, Scott's clothes, and bed and toys. The little Bombay I fell in love with at Ross, the chair I needed to nurse in, the classes I wanted to take, the curtains I wanted to put up. The fuzzy hat to keep my head warm. The dance classes that would be good for Scotty and I to get out of the house, the voice lessons so I would never let go of my dream, more hearts.
The apartment keeping our little family safe and warm. The fluffy down pillows that would be so comfy to sleep with, the little table that would be perfect for our room (if only it was cream...) The 10 cans of spray paint it took to cover that black table, the gold finish to make it just right. The cutest UGG boots I've ever seen, a sweater dress, another sweater dress, maybe one more because they are just so pretty....The beautiful Horchow headboard that took a year of saving before we could finally buy it. "Worth every penny" he'd said approvingly as we installed it to our bed.
With each paper heart a weight from the heart within me lifted. Those words I so longed to hear my beloved whisper in my ear resounded throughout my home. Echoed through every single thing I touched. Each and every object in our home was there because of his love. My entire life is filled with his love. My whole world is built upon his willingness to provide for the family he loves so much. His love is everywhere! His love surrounds me and sustains me in every moment! It is impossible to place a paper heart on everything that represents his love.
Though I did give it an honest effort....
It simply can not be done, because his love reaches out to places that can not be physically touched. Somewhere in the eternal lies the depth of it, for it flies through oceans, and races across land, it penetrates a heart heavy with sadness and longing, and there it sits. Quietly. Patiently. Faithfully. Melting away the icy loneliness, soothing the tears that nag the back of my throat all day, bending space itself to bring us home, to each other. Singing those three wonderful words in my ear, his voice filling my heart with the truth of them. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I hear the words on bended knee trumpeting the start of our new life together, tiptoeing across the darkness of a pillow lulling me to sleep, dancing in my head with fire and passion, admiring the miracle of our babe in arms, and once more they call out to me from a thousand miles away, written on a million paper hearts.
I love you, I love you, I love you...
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