A Time for Everything

A time to blog, a time to refrain from blogging. . . 

Those may not be the exact words of The Teacher in Ecclesiastes, but I have a feeling he would approve. For the last little bit of life, I’ve felt it was much more important to focus on doing than on pondering or  pontificating. Blogs used to be a great way to catch people up with what was happening in life, but now we all seem to live our lives on Facebook or Instagram, so using a blog to share life events seems a little unnecessary. I’ve been managing life. Living day to day and somehow managing to (mostly) get done what needed to be done that day. I’ve felt no wisdom to espouse or truths to unpack so writing in a semi-public venue seemed unnecessary.

So the quiet began

And continued

Then sat down and decided to stay awhile.

Today I feel restless . . . I feel a need to process. Two parts of my life have collided and sorting it out is taking a lot of me. Yesterday, Bayard James Thornburley entered the world after his beautiful mama spent hours and hours in labor. We had already planned for me to come on Saturday. The plane ticket has been purchased for a long time. The days off from work have been requested. For a couple of months, I’ve been reminding myself that most first babies are born at least a week late and that he would most likely be born after I got there.

But that isn’t how it happened.

My beautiful girl had her first baby — the first in the next generation of family — and I wasn’t there. And I won’t be there until Saturday.

Responsible worker me knows this is the way it needs to be.

Mom me is silently dying and pushing tears down throughout the day.

I get it. This is their time. They need this time. I needed time without other people after my babies were born. they have people. They are being cared for beautifully, I have no doubt.

But my baby had a baby and I couldn’t be there because I was at work.

Being a working mom/professional type anything was never on my list of things to do. I don’t spend a lot of time thinking or talking about that because there’s not much point to it. I have to work. For a variety of reasons, I have to have a job and I have to have this job. There are wonderful people in my life because of this job. My children have been fed and clothed and had braces and medicine and education because of this job. I was able to help with my mom’s final months on this earth because of this job.

But today my heart is breaking because of this job.

Trying to make peace with these two different aspects of life has been hard for a long time. I thought I had found a balance, but today I feel very unbalanced about it all. I am resentful.

The resentment wanders down many roads. Roads that journey to the past and the financial insecurity that forced my decision to pursue full time, professional work. Roads that are paved with student loan bills, high priced health care, and a society’s lip-only service to family values. It’s also on the billboards that line my current travel and remind me the decreased flexibility with my work time that has happened over the last few years.

I was in a meeting yesterday and part of what we did was work through Simon Sinek’s Find Your Why process of writing a why statement. Not a mission statement or a vision board, but a why statement. Why do we do what we do? Not why do work where we work, but what are our core values that get us out of bed in the morning and give purpose to our days, whether they are with family or work or community.

Here’s mine:

My why_ To create

The American culture is neither equal nor balanced when it comes to work, especially the combination of work and family. We are a culture who throws around terms like “family values,” and “community,” but has no structure in place to support either of those ideas.

And today, much more than other days, I resent that.


In the beginning was

the Word

And the Word was with God and the Word was God

I’ve been pondering the power of words lately. For yoga teacher training this month, we are to each lead the class in a back bend or a small flow that includes a back bend.

Doesn’t this look intimidating?

It does to me. I can’t do either of those yet. So how do I lead someone else through doing a back bend when I can’t do one?

The good news is that these are also yoga back bends.

And I can do these.

And what does this have to do with words?

Go back to the second sentence under the first set of pictures. I started to write “I can’t do that,” but then I remembered the power of the little word yet. I may not be able to do those first back bends, but some day I could, and yet keeps that door open.

If you’re like me, the words “back bend” haven’t brought up happy thoughts in a long time, but what comes to mind when I say open your heart toward the sky or claim your space or open your shoulders? Those sound softer but strong. They feel doable. Positive. Your body will wind up in a very similar position, but my guess is that by opening your heart you will find more of bend from a standing posture than if you simply thought, “I have to bend my back.”


Words have power; immense power. Our choice of words can add light and life to the world or it can bring darkness and death of spirit.

In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God and then God gave that gift of words to us. Humans. You. Me. Words.

It’s mind-boggling when you sit and ponder the power of words. How words can mean the same thing but have completely different connotation around them. Bend your back or Open your heart toward the sky. Which would you rather do?

Today, I choose to open my heart and I choose to lead others to do the same.

One more thing about bodies

For most of my life, it has unnerved me when someone asked, “have you lost weight?” In fact, in my life history of gaining and losing weight, that question has often triggered a cycle of weight gain. I know it’s meant as a compliment; that people believe they are saying something positive to me. Maybe others want to be asked this; I don’t.

I don’t mean to make anyone feel bad by challenging this idea, but challenge it I must. For the past few years, I’ve been pondering why this is true. Why has this one small question unnerved me when it’s meant to be a compliment? Here are the reasons I’ve come up with:

  1. If losing weight is a compliment, it implies that there is something inherently good about weight loss. This isn’t true. People lose weight when they are sick. People lose weight when they are emotionally stressed and cannot eat. There are a huge number of reasons that people lose weight that are not good, so the presence of a smaller body does not equal a positive accomplishment.
  2. The flip side of this is there is nothing inherently unhealthy about larger bodies. True, some larger bodies are unhealthy, but there are larger bodies that are much healthier than smaller ones. If this is hard for you to believe, then look herehere, and here. After you’ve let that soak in, check out how many organizations there are for people with eating disorders.  Here’s a list to get you started:
    1. National Eating Disorder Association
    2. Binge Eating Disorder Association
    3. National Association for Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders
    4. Academy for Eating Disorders 
  3. CLARIFICATION: I am not saying that no one with a large body has health issues as a result. Neither am I saying that everyone with a small body has an eating disorder. What I am saying is that body size is not a clear indicator of either physical or emotional health. Therefore, complimenting someone on having a small body should not even be a thing. Compliment my courage. Compliment my intelligence. Compliment my sense of style, my ability to sing, or my willingness to love people with abandon and invest in their lives. 
  4. The biggest reason body questions and their implied compliments bother me: Why are you noticing my body so much anyway? It’s mine. It’s not public property to be assessed or graded or assigned value. It’s my body. It’s strong and capable and gave birth and fed babies and I’m very proud of those things, but it does not mean that it’s any better than anyone else’s body or that it’s any better when it’s smaller than when it’s larger.

Food, movement, and body size have been the focus of much of my life. They have been present in my own thoughts, in statements made to me, and in the culture I’ve lived in. It’s remarkable that anyone comes away with any sense of normalcy these areas. I’ve spent money and time in counseling, reading, working with a life coach, and on diets and exercise plans and Bible studies, and . . and . . and . . . it just keeps going on.

I’m turning 50 this year and I’m tired.

I’m tired of thinking about food and whether or not my body should be different. I reached that point a couple of years ago. I’m just done.  It takes way too much emotional and spiritual energy.

Instead, I’m going to do what I love. I’m going to keep practicing yoga. I’m going to dance when the music is good. I’m going to walk outside when I can. I’m going to eat yummy, amazing food, and wear clothes that make me feel good about myself.

And if my body winds up changing somehow and you ask me if I’ve lost weight, I’ll tell you the truth: I have no idea.  I have no idea and I don’t really care.


PS: if you are interested in learning more about body acceptance, please check out Amber Karnes and her Body Positive Rebellion. I’ve been following her work with body positive yoga for several years and am also participating in this online event. Having these thoughts refreshed within me is part of what inspired this post.


I don’t usually set New Year’s Resolutions, but it also seems wasteful not to use such an obvious demarcation of time to do some assessment.

This year I have one:  Yoga every day.

Therefore, when I started this post on January 1, I was sitting in a parking lot, waiting for a yoga studio to open for a hot yoga class. Normally, I am not a hot yoga person, but y’all, it’s cold outside. Like I-can’t-feel-my-face-why-can’t-I-feel-my-face cold. So hot yoga it is.  Or was.  That was two days ago.

My main goal with this is to create a home practice, so this month, I am doing Yoga with Adriene’s 30 day stretch called True. Jason and I have been doing this at home in the morning. I’m so proud of him for doing this with me. Humbled and thankful too. Today is the first day we will do it in the evening instead of the morning. Work schedules have kicked back in and we decided that getting up at 5:00 AM is not our style.

I am still going to classes at Nooma, still working on my own teacher certification, and this month I am also doing an additional certification in making yoga classes accessible for people with bodily challenges. Yoga is for everyone, not only for those with the bodies Western yoga culture has put in front of us as “yoga bodies.”  Do you have a body? Then you have a yoga body.


Want to follow my #yoga365 journey? I will try to remember to post on Instagram, but it most likely will not be a daily post. Once classes start next week, it will be a challenge to keep up with posting, but I want to encourage others to set lofty goals, so I will do my best.

If you are reading this, you are a faithful (or maybe bored?) companion. My lack of writing has been very impressive in recent years, so I’m always surprised when anyone shows up here.  If you’re here, please let me know. Writing more is always on my mind, so I want to honor those who show up to read my words.

Engaging creativity

Eastlake, Charles Lock, 1793-1865; Boaz and Ruth

Boaz and Ruth . . .  Charles Lock Eastlake (1793–1865) . . . Shipley Art Gallery

There’s this great story in the Old Testament in the book of Ruth. Ruth was a young woman from the nation of Moab who married into a Hebrew family who lived in her area. All of the men in the family died; Ruth and her sister-in-law had to decide whether or not they would stay in the community they had always known or go back to Israel with their mother-in-law Naomi. Ruth chose to leave the home she had always known to stay stay with Naomi. We aren’t told why: maybe it was the only family she had left. Maybe Moab had never been kind to her. Maybe she simply didn’t want her mother-in-law to travel by herself.

Life had not been kind to the women. When they arrived in Naomi’s home community, Ruth provided food for them by gleaning the fields after the harvesters had reaped the best of the crops. Her devotion caught the eye of the property owner Boaz, and he instructed the workers to leave some extra wheat behind when they gathered the crops. He also encouraged Ruth to keep coming back to his field.

This is where the story gets interesting, especially in terms of ancient customs that make no sense to our contemporary, Western minds. When Naomi learned of his kindness, she informed Ruth that Boaz was a distant relative and that under Hebrew law, he could claim Ruth as a bride in stead of her husband who was deceased. Yes. Men had rights to women, which sounds odd, but in their culture it was primarily about protection and provision. Women didn’t have a lot of options.

How would a woman in ancient culture let a man know she was available for him? Here’s what Naomi advised:

“My daughter, I must find a home[a] for you, where you will be well provided for.  Now Boaz, with whose women you have worked, is a relative of ours. Tonight he will be winnowing barley on the threshing floor.  Wash, put on perfume, and get dressed in your best clothes. Then go down to the threshing floor, but don’t let him know you are there until he has finished eating and drinking.  When he lies down, note the place where he is lying. Then go and uncover his feet and lie down. He will tell you what to do.”

Yep.  Dress up. Wait until he has a happy tummy and then go uncover his feet and lie down in front of him.

I don’t understand why this was necessary, but it did the trick.

What does this have to do with creativity? Well, here is this week’s journaling question: Have you been neglecting your creativity? In what ways can you seduce it to reignite the flame? Or in Liz’s words, “take the scrunchy out of your hair, take a shower, and put some lipstick on?”

I’ve been using the concept of creativity to challenge me in my home yoga practice. I am good at following directions in a yoga class, but to become a teacher, I need to be able to create my own yoga flows and come up with the words to guide other people through them. I have days that I feel beyond challenged with this and I wind up playing mind games with myself. So how can I make myself available to my creativity? Ruth is my inspiration.

  1. Wash, put on perfume, and get dressed in your best clothes.” I can dress for yoga. When I get home, I can put on leggings and a shirt that makes doing yoga easy and comfortable.
  2. go down to the threshing floor” I can keep my yoga mat handy and sit on it when I’m reading, meditating, or doing my yoga homework. I can keep a printed copy of my permission slip on hand to head off the mind games.
  3. “. . .lie down. He will tell you what to do.”  I can trust the process. I can trust that I know enough yoga to do this and I can trust that the words will come with the movements. 

It doesn’t have to be perfect; it simply needs to be. What about you? How can you make yourself more available to your creative self? What concrete actions can you take to engage with the processes that make your heart sing?


More on creativity

PrintWhat limiting beliefs are keeping me from engaging with creativity? How can I change my inner dialog and embrace my right to be creative? 

Which ones do you want? Let’s start with the obvious one and go from there.

I’m not creative. I’m not artistic. I know what I like when I see it, but I don’t have creative ideas on my own. I don’t have time. My brain doesn’t work that way.  Why do it if I’m not very good at it? ____________________________ is better at that than I am. I don’t want to make a mess.

I’m sure there are others, but that’s what comes to mind right now.

Write a permission slip.  It’s time to get myself out of the way and get on with being creative.

Dear Lisa,
It’s OK.  It’s OK if you aren’t the best writer or singer or knitter. You can still write and sing and knit. It’s OK if you don’t have intricate amazing ideas; you still have ideas. It’s OK if you aren’t creative in every possible way — painting may not be your thing.  Shoot, even coloring may not be your thing. Your creativity may come in your ability to problem solve, recommend books to other people, and show up on the mat every day. You don’t have to be the most creative to be creative. You don’t have to be the best at anything to show up and do what you can.

You have my total permission to be mediocre if you want to be. Just don’t be nothing, because you are worth much more than that. When words come to you, it’s because they have chosen you. There’s no supposed to in creativity. Your life will not end and no one will be homeless if you don’t turn out vast amounts of inspiring words or learn to knit socks. You can keep churning out scarves, blankets, and dishcloths all you want to.

It’s OK not to be the best. Just be.


More big magic

Reading Big Magic with a group means that we have journal prompts for different sections.

Reflect on an idea that ran away from you. Why did you dismiss it?  I don’t know that I dismiss ideas as much as I start them and then get stalled. For example:

  1. Last year I wanted to make homemade knitted items for all of my daughters. They’re about 90% done (sorry girls!) and still sitting. And I’ve started another knitting project since then.
  2. I bought a lot of painting supplies after going to a few painting group events. I don’t think I’ve gotten them out since then.
  3. You don’t even want to know how many journals I own that have some writing in them but that are not complete.

So I don’t know that any ideas run away from me.  I think I run away from them.  Or meander away from them. Running sounds like there is intention involved and if anything, this is from lack of intention and lack of focus.


It’s time to make amends. Moving forward, how can you honor your inspiration and bring your ideas to life? For starters, I can stop and think before I bring another one into the world. I can ask myself if I have the time and desire to nurture it or if this is an idea that can just as easily belong to someone else. Is this something that will absolutely make my heart sing or is it simply a nice idea? Something that may work well in general but not necessarily needed in my life? And when I do bring an idea into the world, I need to commit to spend time with it regularly — maybe daily — maybe weekly — but regularly. I value creativity and purpose and intention and want my life to reflect those ideals.

Facing fear

IMG_3425 (1)

I would be lying if I said I lived without fear. Brave and courageous are two words I would never use to describe myself. Many times, my internal dialog sounds something like this: what will “they” think? what if i fail? what if i fall? what if my body gets hurt or won’t do the right thing or looks weird? what if everyone thinks i’m too fat or too old or too conservative or too liberal or too poor or too smart or not smart enough? what if they think i’m too granola? 

There were many fearful voices in my childhood and I internalized a lot of them.  Don’t hurt yourself. Protect your back. Don’t eat that; it will make you fat. What will _____ think? 

I’m reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic and her earliest chapters are about the relationship between fear and creativity. By the way, she uses the word creativity to mean living a full life; a life with purpose. For some people, this means artistic creativity; for others, it could be entrepreneurship or — oh, I don’t know — becoming a counselor and yoga teacher at 50.

I’m sharing this picture because it has significance for me. Several years ago — almost 20 — my family full of little children went to spend a day at a park. There was a playground that had a balance beam on it. I spent my childhood walking on balance beams at recess and this one called my name. Surely, I could still do that, right? I wanted to be the mom who did things with her children and who showed them what was possible, so on the balance beam I went.

I got about 3/4 the way across and then I fell.  My right leg landed soundly on the beam. For several days, I couldn’t bend my knee and I had a huge bruise up and down my lower leg.

I thought about that day last week as we were hiking through the trails of Pickwick Landing State Park, our location for Thanksgiving 2017. In more than one location, a fallen log lay on the ground, pretending to be a balance beam. I wondered if the results would be the same. While I didn’t find one to walk the length of, I did stop and do tree on a tree. It took focus (I can see it on my face — can you?), and I had to stop and start over a couple of times before I found my focus point, but then I did it.

Tree.  On a tree.

And then I posted the picture even though my first thought was “I look fat. And my I love Jesus and naps shirt might offend somebody.”  I posted it. And now I’m posting it again and I’m sharing my victory even though my current thought is, don’t brag on yourself. they make think you’re bragging.  pride goes before destruction and haughty spirit before downfall.

I don’t know if this is Big Magic or not, but it’s facing fears.

And that has its own very special kind of magic.

Post Yoga Thoughts

This past Saturday and Sunday, I attended my first yoga teacher training sessions. I am part of a group of 12 people who will journey through this together. We will meet monthly through April and at the end of it, we will be Registered  Yoga Teachers with 200 hours of education and practice.  In yoga world, that’s known as R-YT 200.

I didn’t know what to expect before I drove to Little Rock on Saturday.  Would we spend the whole time in yoga practice, perfecting physical technique? Would it be like a classroom with lectures and handouts and quizzes?  I had no idea.

It’s hard to explain exactly what it was.  We shared our yoga stories.  Why this mattered.  We learned about the history of its development and how it came to the West and has been modified over the years. Yes, there were handouts, in fact there’s a HUGE binder FULL of resources and reading material and forms to help plan classes and there is homework to complete each month between our meetings. And yes, there was yoga practice. We will have a guest teacher each month and we will also teach each other.

And it was amazing.

Have you ever been in a situation that you knew would push your limits but you also knew was exactly where you needed to be? I don’t know how to explain it; I’m not sure I’ve ever had this experience before. I love school and school has always worked well for me, but it’s something I do. This spoke to me at the level of who I am, not of what I do.

Throughout my life, I’ve been a pretty open book. I may have even been accused of oversharing a time or two. 🙂 What many don’t know is that when something is deeply important to me, I keep it close to my heart and I don’t talk about it a lot. Yoga teacher training feels that way to me. I’m not sure how to talk about it. I’m not sure that I want to talk about it. I think I just want to experience it.

I kind of feel that way about life in general these days, too. I love my life.  Each day has beauty and joy. I still see the problems in the world and I still ache for those who are hurting. I still see my own shortcomings, yet I am no longer willing to allow those to define me.

So I don’t know if this blog will see more use or not. Possibly. But I can’t promise. I can promise, however, that I will be living life fully, soaking up the things that happen to me and cherishing each moment that I can. big_thumb

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