Hustling, Podcasts and the Ultimate Diet

My perfect Sunday allows plenty of quiet time for reading. In this spirit, I would like to share three online reads I found valuable this week. The first is a piece about the right way to hustle. It's not what you think.

If you haven't started listening to podcasts yet, start with this list of nine podcasts for a fuller life. You will want to bookmark this one. (Or if you're like me, leave it open on your phone for weeks.)

And finally, you must read this body-positive essay by my friend, Gail, where she reveals the only diet you'll ever need.

This is day 14 of 30 consecutive days of blogging. I’m glad you’re along for the ride. If you liked this post, please share using the buttons below. If you have something to add, feel free to comment openly or anonymously.

To read more of my thoughts on motherhood, mindfulness and the creative life, please follow the blog or subscribe via feedburner.

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I have tears

Written as I soared through the skies on a one-way ticket from my hometown of Seattle to my new home in San Francisco. There's been so much to write about this move and everything I'm leaving behind and looking forward to that I haven't found many words to say at all. And now that my house has been packed into a green Mayflower truck and I'm quite literally in the sky, I feel the need to reflect on this relentless knot in my throat.

All day I've felt the tightening and loosening, the gripping ebb and flow of emotion that threatens to unravel my composure without my permission.

Then again, it feels good to cry. A helpful sort of pain. Like a long deep stretch after a long deep sleep.

I've had the urge to spread my wings and make a home in California for years. My whole life has been leading up to this point.

And yet. My heart hurts to leave my family and friends, the life and community I've built in Seattle for the entire duration of my adult life thus far. I love so many people with such a ferocity that a part of me wishes none of this was happening at all.

I stopped writing to cry and Giovanna caught me. She said, "I looked at you and you had tears and now I have tears."

She told me she missed Grammy which of course made me miss my parents terribly and I just had lunch with them today. I have the most wonderful and supportive parents and I owe it to them to not just make the most of this move but to be happy. Because what more could you possibly want for your child? They gave me unwavering roots and now it's time I put my foundation to good use by digging deeper and reaching higher and stretching further than before.

Wish me luck, dear readers. And if you have any tips on living the good life in San Francisco, tell me in the comments or email me at lucymiller7 [at] gmail.com. I'm all ears.

These photos have no filter like these words.

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If you're going to San Francisco...

The line from this song is sticky. It stays in my head for hours. I'm still not sure if I wanted my life to take this turn.

It's turning anyways.

At night when I'm tired, things feel gray. It's a bad time to try making sense of reality. Soon I will be leaving my home and my city and my family and my friends. But we love so many people here. How is this happening? Why is this happening?

Why am I looking forward to leaving my four bedroom Victorian--with its views and sprawling yard and trees that are like old friends and a turret in which I birthed my daughter--in exchange for a small city apartment in San Francisco? How will I breathe without all of this space? How is it possible that a change can both thrill and terrify me?

All my life I've known and loved California. As a child I thought everyone in Seattle came from California, like my parents and their closest friends did.

I used to watch Sesame Street and wish to live in the city like that. With people everywhere and life unfolding quickly.

As a teenager I visited the University of San Francisco because apparently they wanted me enough to offer a merit-based scholarship.

I like wearing flowers in my hair.

So maybe this city has been calling me for my entire life. I don't know.

But I'd like to think so.

To read more of my musings on motherhood, mindfulness and the creative life, please follow my blog or subscribe via feedburner.

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with my favorite tree & flowers in my hair

It's Not An Island, It's A Forest.

Brilliant piece on parenthood by Cassie Fox. I love this woman and her words. "And you’re not the only one who is scared of losing yourself in this journey; who hasn’t written a single word in months, who hasn’t picked up a paintbrush or knitting needle since you had a baby, who hasn’t held a pencil in so long that it feels like you’ve forgotten how. You’re not the only one who feels like you’ve been bled dry by the end of the day, like a bleached jumble of bones laid out on your bed in the moonlight, with nothing holding you together except someone else’s need, and it’s all you can do to just stay there in one spot; you’re not the only one who wonders what else there will be for you, what will be left of your heart once they’re grown, how you can sustain yourself in this current space. And you’re not the only one who finds fulfillment outside of motherhood, who needs to move and create and comfort outside the square feet of your home; you’re not the only one who has a wide-open spirit and a need to be just a little bit wild, just sometimes, who wants to drink too much and dance too dirty and lick honey from the fingers of a lover."