Kellianne Benson

I have been feeling stagnated in so many areas.

Read into that what you may.  I think I’m mostly talking about my back, my knees, and my belly.  These areas are hurt by 2 years of carrying a baby around, within my body, on my hips, and on my back.  Luckily, Niko’s weight has stabilized (he’s been hovering around a hearty 25-27 lbs since he was 7 months old), but that still doesn’t make the pain lessen.

But, of course, whenever I have physical pain, I feel it in more elemental places.  Pain stagnates the flow of creativity, love, compassion (especially at 4am, an hour I’ve seen every night for over a year now), and joy.

I haven’t been taking much time to myself lately.  I feel obligation on overload.  Clients, dinner, laundry, chores, on down the line to crazy.  The thing is, I don’t need to feel so overloaded.  I need to specifically take time for myself.  I know this.  I also know that good habits beget more of the same, and bad habits?  Yeah.  More of the same.

Lately, that’s my problem.  I’ve started a few bad habits and I they have taken over.  I could very well blame the fact that my child has been in the 4 month sleep regression for about 8 months (since he was 4 months old).  That is DEFINITELY what started my bad habits, but that doesn’t mean that I should let myself get away with NEVER practicing yoga or NEVER meditating.

I’m being very honest when I say that my 10 year old Yoga practice has kept this body running.  It keeps necessary space between my vertebrae and between any pressing negative thoughts.  My Yoga practice supports my practice of empathy.  I’m just a better person, all around, when I’m keeping myself in tune.

I thought when I moved into my new apartment last March that I would most certainly take advantage of the lovely and empty sun rooms in the building for a home practice.  This way, I could cut out the commute to a gym.  In theory, I would just go upstairs, practice for 45 minutes, then get on with my day.  Sounds like a simple thing to do at least 3 times a week, right?  So why have I found every excuse to NOT do this?

When I recently spoke with a friend in San Francisco, she heaped praise on the course Marianne Elliott offers to start up a home yoga practice.  As it was a beautiful day and it seemed like the sort of conversation that would provide fortuitous advice and insight, I decided on the spot to take Marianne’s course.  I hit a link I got today, which gears me up to start my 30 days in a week.

Over the next week, I will be working through Marianne’s course to set my intention and my level of commitment.  I’m not sure what that means yet, but surely I’ll have more of an idea when my 30 days officially starts.

Through it all, I hope to check in through this website from time to time and record how I’m doing.

Namaste, y’all.  Here’s a random photo of me and my BFF to add some color and celebration to this-here entry!

I just had the most terrific weekend.  One of my dear friends got married!  We Bensons wrangled the whole family down to San Francisco for some celebration and relaxation.  We put our poor kiddo with a sitter for three nights in a row (he got very hip to us on the third night and let us know CLEARLY that we had gone too far… but that’s a story for my baby blog), spent time in wine country, and MOST IMPORTANTLY- we got to witness two wonderful people commit to sharing partnership and family with one another.

Also?  I got to spend the morning in what I like to call the Lioness’ Den!  A few generations of women everywhere, in various states of dress.  Hairpins littering every surface.  Brunch on the table.  Champagne.  Laughter.  And me?  At work molding some seriously beautiful hair.  I had a lovely time helping this beautiful woman get ready.  I also got to rock out her hair later that night for the wedding dance party… but that photograph has yet to surface on the internet.

Three cheers to love!

December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)

I have a hard time with this entry. I feel as if I spend my career generally concentrating on what makes everyone who sits in my chair so beautifully different. There are so many different kinds of beauty out there- it’s one of my goals in life to try and be certain that every person I (literally) touch feels like the best possible expression of what makes him or her so beautiful and so different.

Is that cheesy? I’ve had one glass of wine with no dinner and I’m feeling a bit sentimental.

What makes me so different? Not much, really. Or Everything, maybe. I’m just a redhead who has scissor cuts on her fingers, the cutest baby in the world on her hip, and a terrific husband. I’m just a regular pile of success and failure and success that creates failure that begets success. I’m the luckiest girl in the world who sometimes has a bad day (or month, or year). I’m just thankful, mostly. I’m thankful for my present. I’m thankful that I created a tumultuous past. I’m thankful that I’ve been a million different people from one day to the next. I’m thankful that I have choices. I have hope for my future. I don’t know if all of that’s different, but it is my own celebration.

Here’s some gorgeous hair that someone let me create on their head:

December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011? (Author: Cali Harris)

This particular Reverb10 prompt resonates with me, soundly.

I have to say that I am really pleasantly surprised and touched by the way our community expanded as our family expanded. It started when I was pregnant, in our birth class. I made a few friends that I am not likely to have found otherwise. Also, as my waist line developed (and developed!) and pregnancy progressed, people started to reach out. There were all sorts of wonderful people in the wings of our lives who had already started families of their own. As Buster and I walked down the path of the wild and child-bearing unknown, a few acquaintances of ours who had recently made the same journey started reaching out. Hand-me-downs began to arrive. Knowing and much needed advice streamed in. Suddenly, we found ourselves with whole new clusters of lovely friends we didn’t have before.

I never understood before what it meant to say it takes a village to raise a child. Now, when I call a girlfriend for advice, vent to fellow parent in an email, get together with other terrific parents to put our babies in a pile, or have someone offer take my sleep-refusing baby for the night so we can get some relief, I have an inkling of what this expression means.

The really magical thing about this whole newfound community is that I know that raising Niko will continue to bring new people into our lives. We have the mysterious pre-school years ahead of us, followed by all those other mysterious years. We have all sorts of classes and clubs coming at us that we can’t even imagine yet. Before getting pregnant, I never thought much about how being a parent could potentially open us to a whole new world. Now that we have a child, I can’t imagine that I ever thought that being a parent would be detrimental to our social life. To the contrary, parenthood makes our feelings of community stronger than I ever could have considered.

I feel as if we have spent 2010 building the foundation for community strengthening. 2011 will only bring greater support and more easy rapport. Between all these newfound parent friends, our many friends at Vain, and all the magical people we knew before we had our big life change, I am pretty stoked.

I’ll bet that you all think that I’ve given up on my Reverb10 prompts!

NOT SO! But I did need a break. My holidays got crazy and my lucky crane decided to spend his Christmas and New Year waking up every half hour. That was crazymaking! Luckily, I am getting a little bit more sleep now that it’s 2011 (OMG) and am going to resume this lovely project.

Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it? (Author: Gretchen Rubin)

Make. As in crafts. Hobbies. Make.

To be honest, I don’t make much that sticks around the house all craftily. But don’t get me wrong, it’s not because I’m not a crafty person. I feel as if I’ve created a whole life out of being crafty. A whole career!. I make hair happen every day that I work at the Vain Beauty World. Most recently in my “best of” memories, I did a good friend’s hair in some crazy dramatic asymmetrical ‘do for NYE. I used hair powder, hair spray, a flat iron, bobby pins, hair pins, and a teasing/smoothing brush.

I also make dinner almost every night. And I canned a whole load of tomatoes, peaches, and pears from last summer’s delicious season. That’s crafty, right? It’s all about making a marriage between creativity and regular life around these parts.

December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why? (Author: Alice Bradley)

I meant to write about this last night. But! Nothing. And today. Nothing. I have nothing to say about letting go in 2010.

The only thing I really felt the letting go of was my super-pregnant body. Thank goodness for that! I’m back to my regular size, and it’s hard to believe I was ever a leg aching, air puffing, exhausted 41 weeks pregnant. That was. Epic proportions! I was ever glad to see the phase end.

I had a doozy of a weekend. It was all partypartynursenursepartyworkpumpworknursepartynursenurse. I might have had a few hours of sleep, but it wasn’t quality. Anyhow, I fell behind on my reverb10 writing! So here goes…

December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)

I’m going to have to default on the whole being pregnant and having a baby thing, here, which is sure to happen on a whole lot of these reverb posts. That said, events that stick out as a wonderment aside are as follows:

1) The Olympic Sculpture Park Farmers Market! I know it sounds cheesy, but every Thursday during the second half of last summer I would dress Niko in his big ol’ Scarlet O’Hara looking sun hat, dig $100 out of my savings hidey hole, and walk him down the street to what I called “the party.” There, I got to know so many amazing vendors, some of whom would come with dirt under their nails from digging out the very potatoes I was buying. I sampled several amazing local wines. I bought hand made pastas. I ate bacon and maple doughnuts! Niko would look around in wonder until he fell asleep. After, I would come home with a 10lb bag of second run tomatoes (among many other things) and make 4 quarts of my favorite marinara sauce to freeze in batches. Thank goodness for that sauce! It won’t last until next tomato season, but it’s brought life to many of my most memorable meals since.

I feel deeply thankful to live in a city where such amazing things happen.

2) A weekend trip to the Olympic Peninsula. We went on a whirlwind tour around the Olympic Peninsula and…. well… can I tell you a story? I’ll keep it short, I promise…

Once upon a time, I visited the Pacific NorthWest for the very first time. It was the year 2000. I climbed a few epic trails in the Olympics and felt so utterly connected to the land here. I felt what I suppose some people would call God. Fast forward to 2007, when I started dating this incredible man who lived 3,000 miles away in Seattle. It felt easy for me to move to Seattle when that man asked me to come, because I knew that part of my destiny was wrapped up in those gorgeous Olympics. This sounds a bit, I dunno, cheesy. I know. But every word of that story is true without an ounce of embellishment.

Anyhow, we took a whirlwind trip out to the Olympic Peninsula last summer. It was my first trip back since that fate changing hiking trip in 2000 (I know, I know). And, y’know, not a thing has changed. I do belong here. There is something in my soul that is connected to the land out here. That’s a whole lot of wonder, right there.

December 3 – Moment.

Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

(Author: Ali Edwards)

On May 15th, I asked someone to get me a glass of water. No lemon. I hate rind! The assistant (Marion) to my midwife (Lynn) went down to our kitchen to grab it – I couldn’t let go of my doula’s hand. I had been pushing for an hour and couldn’t wait for it to be over. When Marion got downstairs in our little loft, she indicated to my best friend that the baby’s head was capping by about an inch.

Moments later, Lynn called downstairs, “MARION! I need you!!”

It’s hard for me to wrap my words around the following moments. I was hyper-present, in a way that I have never understood presence. I could not have uttered a descriptive word. I was so IN the moment, so IN my body. Honestly, I don’t know how to explain having a baby. I don’t know how to tell you about being on a stool next to my bed in a tiny loft, feeling like I was dying, all the while feeling like I was being born. It’s just this wild thing that happened! It was so surreal that it stands to remind me, in a way, of why simple things in life often seem mundane. They rather have to be, don’t they? Because if everything could be as intense as having a baby in your tiny loft? Well. That’d just be too much being alive for anybody’s brain to handle.

Lynn asked me to reach down and grab my baby. I remember how confused he looked! And how alive, really. His spirit just filled up the room as he took his first gurgling breaths. And then! he started to scream. He was pissed! My husband and I laughed.

I yelled downstairs, “Katie! Get up here! You’ve gotta see this guy!”

December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)

This is a funny question. This question assumes that I write quite a bit, does it not? And maybe it even assumes (this is likely projection) that I am living to write a story. Interesting. I suppose that I used to live to write quite a bit, back in the wild west days of the internet. I lived and wrote to gather an audience. I wrote under an assumed name. I wrote to collect attentions and to exorcise ghosts. I had a lot of time to live wildly and write with reflection, desperation, and about a million other adjectives that could be easily found with a right click to bring up my thesaurus in Word Perfect.

Now? I change diapers. I create meal plans. I cut hair. I answer email. I exfoliate and try to apply lipstick. I play peek-a-boo. I make empanadas. I watch my son chew on a pickle. I dance, nurse, vacuum, and work out. Sometimes I make it a point to look at myself naked in the mirror and tell myself, “Hey. Not bad.” I drink a glass of wine with dinner. I send out a few texts, make a few calls, and make sure to tell my husband that I love him (very much). Sometimes, I socialize, and when I do that, I do it really well. I think that all of these things could potentially contribute to my writing if I actually wrote in one of the three blogs I randomly keep on a regular basis. I’m not sure you’d be interested in reading any of it, but! I could. write. if I would. write.

I don’t feel as if I’m answering this question. Let’s push deeper! What don’t I want to tell you? Is that what this question begs? For my dirty secrets? Is this question wondering if I can quit the things that I would prefer to not speak about in writing? Well. I curse too much. I’m not always my most confident self. I sometimes think that I don’t deserve the magic things I have in life and, worse, I occaisonally think that I somehow deserve more.

So. If the question begs to know if I can stop doing these almost unspeakable things. I guess my answer is that I will certainly try. Bring on the try, twenty-eleven!

But. Y’know. I won’t make any concrete promises…

(Afterthought: Those right click thesaurus days were kind of awesome. I might bring back thesaurus abuse if I ever do start writing more.)

Let’s step away from the hair for a minute, shall we?  Or, rather, let’s delve into a more philosophical assessment that may (or may not) reflect on any style I created during this past year or propose for next.

For the month of December, I’m going to use this blog for reflective purposes to celebrate the passing of the first year of this new decade!  I will be participating in the Reverb 10 community during this month.  Reverb 10 is an annual event and online initiative to reflect on your year and manifest what’s next.  Every day, I’ll be given a prompt from a different author to use to reflect on what’s happened, and to send out reverberations for the year ahead. I can respond to this prompt by tweet, post, or photo.

Let’s begin!

December 1 One Word.
Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?
(Author: Gwen Bell)

2010 was about becoming more open. Letting my obvious and very physical facts of 2010 pregnancy and it’s eventual outcome slide on by (too frank, too predictable, too true for this blog), I also found myself meditating on being more open to all the rapid changes that came about in my life.  I am open to being woken up every hour.  I am open to my schedule becoming unpredictable.  I am open to my house becoming a shamble-town.  On a deeper level, I am more open to hearing the stories of everyone around me as I turn my own story down to a lull.  I am opening in sensitivity and compassion.  I am opening the doors of my family to the future, to all the new characters that future will bring.  I am opening my arms to wrap around my son in protection.  I am opening my mind to ideas that I would never have considered before this new decade.

For 2011, I will concentrate on trust.  I am going with my gut.  I am figuring out how to parent by getting to trust the core of my authentic self.  I am learning how to trust my instincts, learning how to better trust my community, and building more trust with my partner.  I am trusting that I will stay gold on the darkest days.  I am trusting that the universe will give me cues on when to move on, or when to accept.  I am trusting that I will grow as a person and know ever-so-much more one year from today than I know now.  I am trusting that I will become, day by day, a person for my son to admire.  I am trusting that my roots will grow, deeper and deeper.