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Krystal Festerly

Moments From The Weeks End

Handmade bunny

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Kisses

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One Saw. One tree. Ten fingers. It's a Christmas miracle!

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Handmade bunny for my little lady love.

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Naps & squish face.

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Mohawks & Grins.

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Nanas, we don't like them.

The Weeks EndKrystal DonovanDecember 15, 2013Comment
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The Sling Diaries, VOL. IV: Everything Shines: Culture

Sling DiariesKrystal DonovanDecember 10, 2013babywearing, ringsling, sakurablom, theslingdiaries

LIFE IS BETTER WHEN SHARED

The Things I Wish To Remember

GOOD Morning! ...my mother would announce when I was a child with such exhilaration as if she was declaring it so. She was a single mom and not all days were good days, easy and carefree, but she had a knack for shining a light in the dark. Even now she has the ability to make the smallest things grand, like flowers growing in the cracks of cement. ~ It got me thinking about how important mindset is. Time keeps on coming, no matter the circumstances and I don't want to look back and realize that this was the time of my life, wishing I had relished in it a little bit more than I did—like the time before we had kids and I thought I knew what “tired” meant. - I rise early, to catch the precious gift that is the dawn—to sit with the quiet and drink in its stillness, when joy is easy. The light stretches across the sky and so do I, the dew like stars kissing flowers, I sink into the slowest hours of the day; it is then I can live unencumbered by the afflictions of this life. Joy... it really does come in the morning. - Even if your day is filled with angst, hold on to the coolness of the morning, take it with you throughout your day. Have a good morning, have a good life, declare it so, it’s as simple and as hard as that. Good Morning! #WhenIGetoThinking #tbt *my mother at 17 #goodmorning
I woke up early like I do every day, I wrote my morning pages and was getting ready to get into my routine, then something happened that derailed it all. You see I'm writing a book, it's an incredibly slow process, you have to confront yourself again and again in order to pour meaning onto the page for your reader—returning day after day, rain or shine, through sickness, and through children, all the while trying to stay in your lane, it's unbelievably hard. I've been going through The Artist's Way, I say "going through" because it's more than a book, it's a guide to getting unblocked and learning to live a healthy creative life. This week is reading deprivation, no TV, no reading, no NPR (I love my NPR), no IG unless it's to write and create, it cuts out all of the outside noise, so what remains is your own inner voice—and I'm going crazy. I never realized how much I consume words/TV/et cetera, in order to unwind, or as a distraction from my own thoughts and writing practice, in a way poisoning my own well. The process is necessary, but MAN AM I BORED, so bored that I painted the trim of my house, THE TRIM OF THE HOUSE! I sorted the garage, planted an entirely new flower bed, and finished every half started project, until there was nothing left but my thoughts and I. Then this morning I accidentally read something and it ended up sending me into a tailspin, a flood of self-doubt and fear came pouring in. I messaged my good girlfriends what had happened, instead of just sitting there trapped by it, unable to write. They told me what I already knew to be true, the antithesis of what my inner critic whispers, that "I'm not good enough." - When I was young I would pray for sisters, the kind of women who believed in you even when you don't believe in yourself; and you know what? (with tears in my eyes) I got them, women who see me, and hear me, and remind me of who I am. We cheer for each other, and encourage each other, and love each other regardless, they mean more to me than they'll ever know. - Ask for what you want in this life, and then prepare to receive it, and when you do hold on tight, that's where the real work lies. #WhenIGetoThinking
This part is like “the waiting area”, or rather “the wading area,” quietly sinking into the steady rhythm between the crashing waves. I’m calmly treading water until they (his Dr. and Neurosurgeon, and Radiologist) decide on a schedule, and then it all starts. Two surgeries, more testing, and if all goes well, radiation, and then we wait... we wait anywhere from three to five years, monitoring the A.V.M to see if it starts to shrink— at his last appointment we learned that it had grown. It’s strange, it’s times like these that everything grows quiet, the nights somewhat peaceful, and for a moment I forget, I forget that any of this is even happening, relinquishing my worries to the inate joy that surrounds me. Then as sure as the tide, reality brushes up against me— it feels like closing your eyes while tipping your head back into the water and suddenly realizing that you’re in the middle of the ocean and something ominous is circling below you— these thoughts are the test, the disrupter of the present, the thieves of joy. So I return to my breath, and as steady as the tide, it calms the water, washing away my angst. I’ve never been so here in my life, in contrast, I’ve never been so scared in my life, the duality is fascinating and unrelenting. When you’re formally introduced to the fragility of life it shifts you so far that you can never go back to the way it was before— everything gets brighter, sharper, as if every door and every window was thrown wide open and you wonder why you’ve never seen it this way before, your life. I’ve been handed pain, and it is as dark as the night— but if you let go, your eyes begin to focus, and it’s like the night sky, full of stars shining brightly. #WhenIGetoThinking
As we were driving over to the meditation gardens my husband interrupted what was probably the most riveting story I’ve ever told (no not really), he pointed out the window and said, “I’m sorry hold on one second and look at those birds!”, to my surprise and utter shock. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve apologetically interrupted him to point out something mundane that I found so beautiful, of course, he’d indulge, me but mostly I think he thought I was a total sap. Now he’s starting to notice all the little things I’ve always found so precious, the fleeting small actions between moments that make up the beauty in this world, and it lights me up to witness. We’ve taken some time off from all the procedures and appointments, in order to give ourselves a bit of a break, we needed one. He has one more brain surgery before he can hopefully start radiation. My Dad came to visit from Costa Rica this past week to help me out after I called him in tears one day, completely overwhelmed, a literal cry for help. He helped with the kids and did some projects around the house, and best of all, the girls got their Grandpa for a little while. Sometimes the world gets so heavy that you just need a parent to come in and just be near you if only to bring you a little comfort while you’re busy being everything to everyone else. I dove deep into meditation, my kids, him, my work, and then the phone rang while I was writing at a coffee shop; it was the radiation department calling to remind me of his appointment today, it hit me harder than I thought, reality. Coupled with the fact that my Dad left over the weekend left me with a heavy heart. I realized I wanted to hang on to these past weeks a little while longer, because honestly I don’t feel ready for this. . ...but here I am, a little wiser, a little steadier, a little more prepared, on the precipice of the unknown. Really it's the same as any other day that you kiss your loved one's goodbye or goodnight isn't it... 🌹 My roses are blooming, and even though I know they will fade, it doesn't take away from the beauty they hold right now. #WhenIGetoThinking
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