six months of postcards from this cool dude: $33

the smile you’ll have on your face when you see your postcard in the mail every month: priceless

you can sign up for postcards from atlas today. they start in july.

(i found this photo in the archives, and i remembered that it was the one dress-up photo atlas did not mind at all. probably because he agreed with the sentiment.)

i don’t know about you, but i used to find it hard to listen to my body. well, i don’t know if it’s that i had a hard time exactly; it was more that i didn’t really like to do it.

i never trusted my body or the information it provided. it was my mind that was in charge; my body was just a tool for my mind to use.

my body seemed to be the most contrary thing.

it wanted me to rest when i had things to do. it got hungry when i had just eaten or when i was right in the middle of something or when i did not have time to stop and eat. it was always pointing out nagging aches and pains. it had problems that i could not get rid of – like allergies or a lack of energy.

over the years, i learned how to ignore it.

when i did listen to it, i treated it like this annoying thing that didn’t really know what it wanted. “no, you’re not in pain. i don’t have time.” “no, you’re not hungry. you’ve eaten enough.” “no. no. no.”

i spent most of my time living in my mind.

the only thing i really did that consistently took me out of my mind was trail running. that was why i loved it. everything was quiet and all i could think about was my feet on the trails.

even then, i never really focused on how my body was feeling other than to appreciate that it could run.

after i took my first reiki class, i started giving myself a reiki treatment every day.

those treatments were the first time that i really took the time to sit and pay attention to myself at all. (which is not to say that i didn’t sit, just that i never paid attention.)

as i paid more and more attention, i began to realize that my body was not out to get me.

in fact, it was actually more loving and supportive than my mind.

while my mind was saying, “you’re fat,” my body was saying, “sweetie, you’re hungry; you need to eat.”

while my mind was saying, “you need to do/be/have more,” my body was saying, “sweetie, you’re burnt out; you need to rest.”

while my mind was saying, “you can’t do the things you want to do,” my body was saying, “sweetie, you’re on the wrong road; you might want to rethink this.”

when i started listening to my body, it was like finding this great new way to get information on myself.

if you’ve read about my reiki sessions or done a reiki session with me, you know that i invite you to set aside the hour to relax, to pay attention to yourself, to see what you notice.

i do this because it helps anchor you in the experience.

i also do this because it gives you the opportunity and the permission to relax and pay attention to your body.

when you pay attention to your body, you’re telling yourself that your body is important.

it is important.

it’s important to show it care and consideration.

it’s important to affirm its importance. when you do, it gives your body a chance to talk to you.

if reiki isn’t your thing, there are lots of other ways to do this.

you can try yoga or meditation.

you can take a one song dance break.

you can use a gentle touch.

you can take a few minutes to just notice what’s going on with your body.

all you really need is a little attention and curiosity.

{an irregular series inspired by my love for creating beautiful spaces, also known as interior design: volume 1}

As usual, I will preface this by saying that in all things, your taste and choice prevails. Whether everyone (or anyone) else agrees with it or not.

Today’s tip: When hanging art in a series, even-numbered series usually have more options than odd.

If you have a number of pieces of art that you want to group together without spending a lot of time arranging them, here are my quick and easy suggestions.

If you have an even number of pieces, hang them in one or more even-numbered rows.

If you use more than one row, you can align the columns or you can stagger them.

(If you are a lazy perfectionist, and the frames are identical in size and shape, I suggest the staggered approach. It’s more forgiving.)

The easy exception to this would be if two of the pieces are much larger than the others, in which case you can hang the smaller pieces in rows and then hang the large pieces on the left and right sides.

If you have an odd number of pieces, hang them in a single row.

A single row of art in a straight line always looks lovely.

The easy exception to this would be if one of the pieces is much larger than the others, in which case you can hang that piece in the center and then arrange the smaller pieces along the left and right sides.

A single row of art at a diagonal works well and is relatively easy to do when you are hanging the pieces along a staircase.

These three photographs are at a slight diagonal to mirror the pieces on the wall behind them. Otherwise, I would have used a straight line, aligning them by their center, not the top or bottom.

Of course, there are lots of other options, but I promised quick and easy.

Feel free to disagree or discuss.

I’d love to hear from you.

And if you are ever stuck on where or how to hang something and you want some suggestions, you are welcome to email me pictures and ask for ideas.

i spent a few days in morocco last april.

i shared some photos with you, and told you a story about a little old man in a rumpled suit with two peacocks in his bicycle basket, but i haven’t really talked about my time there.

i didn’t tell you about all the beauty i experienced in morocco.

i didn’t tell you how we made friends with the boy who helped us find our hostel on the first night. he took us on a tour of the souks and i bought turquoise blue earrings from him for my sister.

or how we stumbled upon a beautiful oasis of a restaurant that fed our bodies and souls.

or how we made friends with the shopkeeper whose shop i fell into on the first night when a young boy thrust a fake snake at me and i jumped backward. we had a long chat with him that evening and then another one the next evening over delicious sweet tea – about languages and religion and berbers and parents and marrakech.

or how we moved into a single room in the hostel in honor of my birthday and it was two stories with a gorgeous blue bathroom.

or how i stood on a rooftop and looked at the atlas mountains and talked to a canadian political science major about my very own atlas far far away.

or how we made friends with the sweet elderly gentleman in the army green trench coat who sat just outside the alley that led to our hostel. every time we passed, he took out his headphones and we would chat. he told us about living in essaouira and hanging out with jimmy hendrix and bob dylan and before we left, he took us to see a shop with incredibly high ceilings and giant colorful rugs hanging everywhere.

or how i drank the most delicious orange juice ever.

or how the call to prayer with centuries of devotion behind it reverberated through the souks and echoed above the rooftops and filled my heart so full that i thought it might burst.

i didn’t know how to tell you about the beauty because there was a bit of disappointment in it.

i thought morocco would be a place where i would sit quietly and soak in the colors and patterns and inspiration, that it would be a place where i took the sort of photos that i return to again and again.

but then we arrived in marrakech – and were thrown into the chaotic tumultuous sea that is jamaa el fna, the main square – and i discovered that it was not a place where i could sit quietly and soak in inspiration.

it was busy and loud and overwhelming.

i pick up other people’s emotions and energy – and often forget that this is true – so busy and loud and overwhelming is hard for me.

some things take time to simmer, especially things that are hard and beautiful all at once.

i couldn’t write a post about the beauty because it didn’t feel complete. i care about honesty and vulnerability and it felt like i was deliberately leaving something out.

i didn’t want to tell you about my disappointment because i was so appreciative of my adventure and didn’t want to seem like i was complaining.

but i really want to say this: it’s ok to be disappointed.

it’s perfectly ok and perfectly normal to be disappointed if something doesn’t turn out the way that you expect.

even if that something is amazing and wonderful and there is something amazing and wonderful for you in the unexpected.

it’s only in acknowledging and feeling the disappointment that you make room for something else.

i didn’t realize i was disappointed until i returned home. when i explored why i didn’t want to write about my time there, i uncovered it.

when i acknowledged my disappointment and felt it, it left. in its place was a deep appreciation for the beauty and wonder that i experienced there.

i expected one kind of beauty in morocco. what i got was another.

morocco is my reminder that a thing can hold both disappointment and enchantment, joy and overwhelm in it.

morocco is my reminder that sometimes you have to give up how you think a thing will look in order to receive something even greater.

morocco did inspire me, but in a way that was chaotic and messy and unexpected.

it cracked me open and chewed me up and spit out all the pieces.

i have not been the same since.

partly because it is most definitely not wednesday.

a very disgruntled atlas says, “please don’t click this link.”

{inspired by my sister helen and weird al and brought to you by my silly sense of humor.}

if you love atlas, and want to receive wise & silly love notes from him, you can sign up here.

{an irregular series inspired by my love for creating beautiful spaces, also known as interior design: volume 2}

Just for fun, I thought we would talk about hanging art.

Creating beautiful spaces, also known as interior design, is one of my many loves. I can spend hours thinking about how to arrange a few carefully chosen items on a coffee table, or about where to hang a piece of art. I also trust my design sense. I suspect there are other people who see this sort of thing as a chore or who don’t trust theirs.

I will preface this by saying that in all things, your taste and choice prevails. Whether everyone (or anyone) else agrees with it or not.

Today’s tip: A great rule of thumb is to hang your art at eye level.

There is usually a midpoint or a focal point in the piece. Your piece can be quite arresting when you hang it so that point is at eye level.

Your eye is going to be drawn to the focal point anyway. When it’s the first thing you see – because you don’t have to look up or down to get to it – it pulls you right in.

On a similar note, too low is often better than too high.

Case in point: You can place art on the floor, which looks fantastic.

This is especially true when you are hanging a piece of art or a series above a piece of furniture (like a bed or a couch or a dining room table). It usually works better when the piece or the series is closer to the piece of furniture than it is to the ceiling.

I’ve been trying to decide why this is so and I think it’s because the furniture and the art are meant to complement each other so too much distance can cause confusion. It might also be because the art is usually viewed from that piece of furniture, meaning you are not standing.

Of course, there are exceptions to this, like art on multi-story walls, but in those cases, you are often using the art to draw the eye upward or to accentuate the height of the space.

Feel free to disagree or discuss. I’d love to hear from you.

And if you are ever stuck on where or how to hang something and you want some suggestions, you are welcome to email me pictures and ask for ideas.

(This is a horrible picture. It looks like my candlestick has green plant wings. But it was the last time I had a wall behind the couch to hang a piece of art on. And oh, I miss that red wall. Also, I miss that bamboo plant. That was one of the few plants that survived my care for any length of time.)

“I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases ..”

— Pablo Neruda

did you know that atlas is my vice president and creative director?

well, he is, and he decided it was time he created his very own offering.

if you are a fan of his silliness and wisdom, you will want to read his letter to you.

let me help you pause.

look at the grass, waving in the breeze.

soften your focus. widen your eyes.

breathe in.
pause.
breathe out.
pause.

repeat as needed.