Leonie Dawson's Blog, page 73

The Miracle Bird

Miracle Beams,

I found this photo on my phone this afternoon. My daughter had made it. And it struck me at how perfect it was. I felt like I had nothing to write about.

And yet, a miracle happened today.

How could I forget?

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It was my husband who alerted us.

I was at the dining room table with my daughters, starting to go through workbooks for the day’s homeschooling. He ran towards the back door, calling our dog loudly, bringing her back inside.

I looked up.

What’s happening my love?

“A little bird just flew into the window and is laying on the ground. I’m not sure if it’s okay, I just didn’t want Angel to disturb it.”

Oh that’s sad. The poor little thing. We’ll just leave it and hope it comes good.

But then my eldest daughter asked in that silvery, gentle, cautious way of hers:

Mum? Is it okay if I can just go and look at the bird? I’d like to see a bird up close like that if I could.

She was so open to it, and I realised the homeschooling lesson for the day had come flying in, literally.

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We decided to move to the window closest to it, so we could observe it quietly without disturbing. And that’s where we sat for the next long while. Looking out the window together. Watching this beautiful, tiny little bird. The girls get their sketchbooks, and carefully draw it laying on the patio. Grey and yellow feathers, sloped beak, a white flash around its eye. Whispering wishes for it to be okay.

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We don’t know if he will of course. Not sure if he will recover. I ponder in my head about how if this science observation ends in death, we’ll talk about the circle of life. We just wait, and breathe with him, and hope.

Eventually, after enough staring into space, quietly willing for his shit to be together, he scatters his wings and pirouettes before blacking out again in another tiny, furled coma.

More time, more waiting, more breathing, more whispered wishes, more drawing. Ostara draws the pirouette and flash of yellow grey wings.

Another seizure of energy, and he props himself up against the chair leg before promptly blacking out again.

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Beth starts writing a letter in her journal to it.

Dear Birdy,

You flew into our window and it has hurt you very much. You are lying on the ground and we can see your eyes. You will get better and fly away, and I want you to stay, but I also have a drawing of you, so I will remember you forever.

Get better soon.

Love,

Beth

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Finally, heart in our mouths as we watch and witness, consciousness returns into his body. His spirit come home. He stations himself upright, fluffs feathers, watches the world once more.

I read the girls books by the window. I hope he enjoys hearing comics about Fly Guy as much as they do.

The afternoon sunlight falls through the silk tree leaves.

And then, in a span of wings, he is gone.

Back into the world of flight, and light, and living.

We are left, blessed. Blessed for the company, for the time spent with a tiny, unconscious bird. Blessed for his renewal and revival.

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I tell my husband:

It was just the perfect visual allegory for me. That’s exactly how I feel when I run into the glass wall of life. I fall down, and lay and wait, staring into space, waiting to collect my shit again. But eventually, life and hope and movement returns again.

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It’s evening now.

I’ve read the girls their evening fairy story, tucked them into bed.

Beth wanders out while I make my evening cup of tea.

Mum, I just closed my eyes, and there was our little bird, still in my mind. Isn’t that good?

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I feel like our bird was the perfect embodiment of an Easter miracle.

It might be 18 days late, but miracles take time.

It was perfect.

Birdy rose.

So will I.

So will you.

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Big love,

 

Upcoming Webinar: Essential Oils For Libido + Bonky-Bonk Times

OHHHHH GUYYYYYYYYSSSS

SO.

Y’all (probably) know I’m one of those Scorpios that LOVES to throw herself into the deep end of conversation and talk about the most secretive topics… like sex, religion, money, mental health and death.

Why talk about the weather when you can talk about the JUICY STUFF?

In the spirit of Scorpio-ness, I’m sharing a webinar about essential oils that support hanky panky urges and bonky bonk times.

MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA.

It’s happening this Friday at 7am (Australian Eastern time). Other timezones: Thursday 2pm US Pacific and Thursday 10pm London, England. Time zone convertor here.

Jump into my Essential Oils Facebook group here to watch!

I also created some truly incredible Instagram Story images because I AM AN ARTISTE!

I am also INCREDIBLY SUBTLE.

BEHOLD!

My grandmother used to call me “All Ass and No Class.” However, this IS the sassy grandmother that flashed her black bra at my husband the first time he met the family. SOOOOO… to you I say, dear Granny… you taught me well. Ha!

DIS GONNA BE FUNNNNNNNN!

With love and bonky bonk vibes,

 

How do I run 3 businesses at the same time?

Hi possums!

Over a year ago now, I made the decision to add another business to my stable and run three at the same time (Shining Academy, My Shining Year workbooks and doTERRA). While also homeschooling. Because YOLO and what can I say, I get bored and like to try new things.

This week, I’m going to share tips + tricks I’ve learned to running three businesses at the same time. And things for you to consider if you decide to multi-business it up!

And as always, not a complete transcript, but some notes.

It’s useful to master one at a time and nail your marketing and systems in one before moving into other businesses
Easier to do another business when it has the same target market – it cuts down on marketing and time
Useful to have something that has a different income structure (i.e. recurring, passive, or with different pay cycles)
Standard Operating Procedures are key for each business to run as efficiently as possible
Looking at your Hedgehog Concept – What is a good economic engine, what are you passionate about and what are you excellent at? STICK TO IT.
Have seasons/times for each businesses where you focus. For example, in my businesses –

Workbooks now take a lot of time in September, then customer service and marketing November-January
My doTERRA business has a lot of action happening at the end of each month
My Shining Biz + Life Academy is steady throughout the year with monthly calls and course releases


Map out your year of major launches/activities for each
Get super lean on what is important, and what is not

So hope this is helpful to you as a multi-passionate-preneur!

You don’t have to give up all your dreams… you just have to get good and lean at one, then leverage that!

With love and abundance,

 

Essential Oils For Kids’ Bodies, Minds + Emotions

Hi possums,

Holy moley, what a journey I’ve been on with these oils.

As I’ve shared before, I fell in love with doTERRA essential oils when I least expected it. I was TOTALLY sceptical that smelly shit would make a difference to my (totally fucked) health at the time. After spending six months in and out of bed with recurring fevers and infections, and being tested for everything from tuberculosis to lung cancer, and endless rounds of antibiotics, I started using doTERRA OnGuard essential oil because I was out of any other solution.

But they did make a difference. Hugely, profoundly and deeply. It was almost instantaneous. After a week, I ordered more oils. And more. And realised I could use them for more and more things. They became my go to when I was experiencing sleeplessness and anxious feelings and needing digestion support. I saw how big a difference they made in parenting. I started craving that kind of clean, powerful, lo-tox energy in all my haircare and cleaning products. Soon, they became an intrinsic part of life, health, parenting, cleaning and home.

The hub + hearth of our home… our essential oil box in our kitchen that gets used upteen times a day!

These crystal children of ours are so sensitive, and come into this world knowing so intently what feels good and what doesn’t. And they connect with oils SO QUICKLY. They get it faster than we do.

Now my kids know to come to me for oils… for upset bellies, if they are feeling upset, if they can’t get to sleep, for bumps and bug bites and all the other calamities that happen.

We diffuse oils every day while we homeschool to help us with attention and encouragement. If we are out and about, there’s oils in my handbag for meltdowns and motion sickness. We diffuse oils in bedrooms at night to help our kids fall asleep easily. They are so very special… such an empowering, healing tool to use.

So I wanted to do this webinar. To help you discover how to naturally support your children’s immune systems, focus and emotions with essential oils.

So hope this is useful to you.

Love from my crystal children to yours,

 

Books I’ve Loved Reading To My Kids Lately

Hi possums,

I’m finishing up my Term 1 review of homeschooling this week, and thought it would be fun to share some of the books we’ve most loved reading together so far this year. We read books together for up to an hour each day – me snuggled up with my girls (4 and 8 years old). Then I ask the girls for their book rating out of 5 stars, and record our reads that day using Goodreads.

Something odd – I don’t have a long lasting reading (or speaking) voice. I’m a throat speaker, and it gives out pretty quickly. I’ve consciously spent the last year building up my read aloud capacity, and it’s improving, thankfully. I’ve built it up by trying to speak from my belly while I read… it does make my voice slightly deeper and less excitable, but it definitely helps with endurance.

ANYWAYS! Here’s what we’ve been loving lately… as voted by my kids.

The Olga series by Elise Gravel.

We bought the first for Christmas and it was so inhaled and adored that I pre-ordered the second one that day.

What I love most about it is it’s a girl who adores science and animal biology, and she researches, uses the scientific method and keeps a scientific notebook. Plus it’s gorgeously illustrated, and just so much fun.

Best part: her pet is called MEH who says MEH constantly. My kids love taking it in terms to yell MEH as soon as they see the word on the page. It becomes pretty funny.

When I asked my kids for their 5 star rating, Ostara said “GOOGLEPLEX! THE LARGEST KNOWN NUMBER IN THE UNIVERSE!” so I’m pretty sure that’s a decent rating.

I mentioned Magic Tree House books in this post of my top 2017 books, but we are still reading through them and loving.

Ostara adores audiobooks with the force of a hungry word wolf, so I also bought the complete collection on audiobook, along with the complete collection of Merlin Missions books (which is the next series for slightly older readers). She’s consumed all 50+ audio books… twice. Girl loves words!

Pippi Longstocking (illustrated by Lauren Child)

We read about Astrid Lindgren in Ostara’s much adored Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls, and Ostara was so fascinated she wanted to read her book.

I had this rad edition in the bookcase – it’s illustrated by Lauren Child (i.e. Charlie and Lola fame). Her illustrations were like icing on this book.

The girls were enthralled by Pippi’s adventures and it was sweet for me to revisit it with them.

Storey Treehouse series – Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton

We’ve read them all before, but we just did another full re-read after going to see another Storey Treehouse play. We’ve been to two now, plus a book launch/talk with Andy and Terry. Events like that make the books come even more alive and ready for another re-read.

Isla Fisher’s Marge In Charge series

These ones are sweet, funny adventures of two kids with a magical, rainbow-haired babysitter.

Always gets my girls giggling.

Bear Grylls Adventures series

I love that these books include survival skills, animal facts and geology. I like when books do double time for both fun and learning.

The Amazing Crafty Cat

The comic story of a girl whose alter ego is CRAFTY CAT! Ready to solve all problems with… CRAFT!

Cute as heck, and crafty to boot.

Woop woop!

Hope these books have given inspiration for your kids and reading time.

And if you haven’t already, I really recommend reading Reading Magic by Mem Fox.

If you’re looking for more book recommendations, we’re working our way through this book: 101 Books To Read Before You Grow Up.

With love and words,

 

 

 

How do I homeschool + run businesses at the same time?

Hi treasures,

So… after a long break I’ve been feeling the energy rising in me to start sharing publicly again more regularly.

I thought I’d start off just by doing lo-fi videos to answer the most popular questions I get.

No set. Definitely no hair or makeup. No script.

Just sharing from the heart.

So… BEHOLD! The inaugural edition!

How I homeschool + run businesses at the same time!

Not the full transcript, but some notes on it:

It isn’t easy, it’s a juggling act
It works for us better to have ON time and OFF time with homeschooling
Enlist support

tutor
babysitter
family
homeschool co-op
trading days with another homeschooling family


Putting tasks in the right times

Answering emails/social media while with kids if that’s easier for you
Finding quiet time (i.e. at night or OFF hour) to create for you


Self care is key
Find a curriculum that fits for you. We are eclectic homeschoolers that use a whole bunch of resources. I do hands-on-stuff like science and art projects, and then I like programs like Mathseeds and Readings Eggs, and apps like Quick Math Jnr and Teach Your Monster to Read that don’t need my involvement
Find a flow that works for you. It will be unique to you.
If it’s not working, try something new!

Hope this resonates + is helpful.

Lots of love to you as you make miracles happen,

 

On Loss

I’m 35.

The lessons and rhythm of life has changed once more.

Once a Maiden, fresh-faced and hopeful, learning who I was and what my dreams were.

Then the work of bringing those dreams into the world.

Babies and businesses and marriage and an acreage and so many adventures.

A Mother, tired eyes, a little more worn, a little more wane.

Teaching me how to be sovereign and strong, how to be compassionate and alive.

And as time passes, learning loss.

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There’s still so many notches left on the lifeline of course.

My grandmother would have laughed at the very idea of 35 being in some way weathered.

She, the matriarch at 97. She, who would call people in their 70s “spring chickens”.

I’m one third of her, but already I can see that loss will be a continuing theme, something I need to get more comfortable with.

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Loss.

Loss of dreams.

Loss of times past and can’t ever be revived.

Loss of that wooden house in the rainforest and the feeling that I was living my dream on a patch of land.

Loss of that unshakeable confidence that was as much a part of me as my hands, my liver… now so much shakier.

Loss of unshakeable optimism in people, loss of trust that those I meet and love will always be kind and well-intentioned.

Loss of my parent’s marriage and the constellation of my family of origin. Do they ever talk about just how painful it can be, even as an adult?

Loss of people, the pile of memories accumulating at a faster and faster rate. The bigger the space where they used to roam this earth. It used to be just one-off incidences, but lately they seem to come faster, and it doesn’t seem any sign of letting up. The places where my brother used to live, my uncles, my grandmothers and great aunt and nan, my husband’s best friend, my friends’ husbands and parents.

Maybe my trio of elders held me back from the cliff march of time for a while. They took their sweet, luxurious time before they left – Nan at 102, Aunt Lucy at 99, Gran at 97. While they were alive, the years spread large and long, the great breadth of life assured. But now their generation has shuffled off, and our parent’s generation is next up at the cliff face. Some are beginning to fall too fast, too soon.

And I see it all now.

How, too soon, it will be our turn at the cliff edge too.

Those concepts of time passing and generations arriving and leaving in great waves and mortality, once so mystical and imaginary and far off, are now close and real and sobering.

I see what Granny was talking about all along. I can’t say I wasn’t warned.

The years go by too fast, in the blink of an eye. I still feel 18 inside. Children grow up too fast. Everybody dies, and it’s hard. Getting older is hard.

And I was young and said “Yes, yes, Granny, I understand” but I didn’t really understand. The world was at my feet and expanding with possibility and I thought I would be immune to all that, and even if I wasn’t it was a long, long way off.

But the years went by too fast, just like she said they would. And I am finally starting to glimpse just what she tried to tell me.

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My brothers’ Dad died today, and it feels like there is a tall, lanky shaped hole gaping in the world.

It’s hard to explain our connection, just that when I saw him for the first time, it was a sweet relief to know my eldest brother was still somehow walking through the world on those long legs. He was a kind and good man, and we loved him like an uncle who’d given us brothers. Losing him is like losing my brother again, that incarnation, that archetype. Losing him shuffles us all closer to the cliff.

We made a trip to the river, as we always do, a trip that is becoming more regular.

Take flowers, place them in the river, give a silent prayer of gratitude and love for the soul making their rainbow journey.

Watch them float down the stream under a wide blue sky specked with gums.

*

I think of Glennon Doyle’s words:

“Life is brutal. It’s all beautiful. I call it brutiful.”

*

I wonder how I’m going to get good at this.

Get graceful at loss. Get okay with the pain of life.

Don’t want it to carve me up into jaded, shrunken, dried up, boarded in.

Want to be softer, wider, wiser.

Gently joyous even as the sand slips through my fingers.

*

I didn’t know what to do with this feeling. That brimming of emotions and memories all tangled and damp.

Write it out, I thought.

That’s what you used to do. Let the page make sense of it for you.

*

Or as Carrie said:

Take your broken heart, turn it into art.

*

My Grandmother told me how to deal with this too.

She would say:

I woke up this morning again, and I was still breathing, and I thought It’s a good day to be alive.

*

I’m still learning.

Love,

L

 

Crying with Strangers: Part 2

 

It was a Friday last month.

Not long after Crying with Strangers: Part 1 happened.

I meant to sit and write this down for you earlier, but then Christmas happened, and then that slow slide into summer holidays, and I’ve been bobbing along that stream of gentle days ever since, reluctant to get out of the water.

But the light is gold shards today and the sky an impossible blue, and we spent all day at the park and then in the garden, and my mind is so full of greens and blues that the only place to turn is the page to write.

It was a week or so before Christmas. One of those weeks that feels bordering on child mayhem with two kids insistent on jumping off surfaces for the most part of the day.

I decided to escape the house and have a cafe date. I loaded up my handbag with novels and journal and pens, set for a quiet break of nothing but my own thoughts for a spell. A reprieve from children who joyfully, irrepressibly fill every moment with voice and noice. A reprieve from a head that thumped too much with worry and pain, not of big things gone wonky, but a culmination of little ones.

I thought I’d go to the bookstore first. Start off this micro retreat with some solid bookshelf malingering. To get there, I had to manoeuvre by the cafe. But before I could go any further: there was my favourite seat. Open and ready for me.

I thought it was a sign.

So I shrugged my shoulders, left the book whispering for later, and slid into place.

The next table over, there was an elder woman. I notice as she tries to talk to the table on the other side. The women there smile and nod their heads, but don’t engage.

She looks over at me, and echoes the same line:

“Do we order here? Or at the counter? I’m not sure. I’ve just had a really shit day. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

I look over and up. Just as before, there was a decision to be made. When a moment unfurls with a stranger, do you choose it?

My heart had already been cleaved open a week or so before by a stranger. I knew the path to take.

I made eye contact. I smile.

I’m here for you, I try to tell her with my eyes. I’m open and ready for this.

I scoot over on the long bench seat to be closer to her. I show her the menu, and we talk about what’s best to eat. I show her how to order.

She orders, and she sits down beside me again. We laugh a little, and her eyes brim with tears.

“I’m sorry. I’ve really had a shit day. I’m sorry for swearing. I know old people shouldn’t swear, but I do.”

“You’re in the right place for swearing, I bloody love it,” I tell her.

“I shouldn’t be crying. But it really has been a shit day. My phone hasn’t been working all week, and I’ve been so anxious about it. And then I forgot my pin for my credit card. And maybe it’s just the season, but my husband died a few years ago, and I still miss him so much…”

She begins to cry, and I do to.

“Oh no! Now I’ve made you cry too!”

“That’s okay. That’s what other humans are for, isn’t it? That’s what we are made for.”

We hold hands, and cry about how hard shit days can be, and we do it together.

Her lunch comes, the one I (and Leslie Knope) recommended: pancakes with ice-cream and blueberry. We drag our tables together. I drink my chai tea and lemon pie beside her. We share lunch together, and I ask her to tell me her story.

And she does. She tells me the miracles and the tragedies of her eighty years. She tells me in vivid detail about the night her mother died when she was 10, and about the day after when she was put in an orphanage. She tells me the night dancing in a decrepit hall when she met her husband 50 years ago. She shows me photographs of him: the strikingly handsome young man in uniform, and him before he died: still handsome, thick black hair streaked with moonlight. “He drove me batty, you know. I was ready to kill him sometimes! But then he made me laugh again. It was a good life, with him.” She tells me the date of their anniversary, and the ways he tells her he’s still around, still loves her from the Great Beyond.

“I’m sorry for putting this on you…” she tells me, when she runs out of story. I tell her it was the best part of my day.

When it is time to leave, I tell her my name. She gasps “That’s my sister’s name! I can’t believe it!” She tells me hers, and she shares half of my sister’s.

I hug her when I leave. She curls her head on my shoulder.

Sometimes we are each exactly what the other needs.

Here’s to another year of miracle moments with strangers.

 

What I’m Doing Now page

Inspired by this, I just wrote a quick “What I’m Doing Now” page.

Will update as things evolve. As they do.

 

 

Tis the season for healing + dreaming + childhood regressions…

Possums,

Merry Ordinary Christmas from me and my family to you and yours.

And if it’s been a shit one, even more hugs and love to you. We have had a quiet Christmas as always… one filled with LEGO and books. Low-key is our style statement.

I asked my husband on the day if he had any Christmas feelings coming up that needed processing. You know the kind: guilt, grief, sadness, unmet expectations, longing, pain, pressure, worry, overwhelm, exhaustion. His was only about a 2/10 this year. Mine were about the same, so that’s a win. We’ve certainly had years when those feelings were much bigger and needed much more attention.

I share this because I’d like for all of us to know that not being 100% merry is totes normal.

We can craft our own season, free of expectations, and more able to acknowledge the full breadth of our feelings.

Here’s a pie chart of Christmas feelings this year:

And now the holiday season REALLY begins!

My favourite time of year is here… the post-Christmas gentle after all the expectation and pressure-cooker build up gone… the days between now and January’s end ready for reflection, dreaming and planning.

Today, I pulled out my workbooks that I wrote a year ago and read through it all… the closing ceremony and the goals I made. It’s amazing how things have changed in one year, and I’m so grateful I have these written reminders of who I was, how I’ve healed, and what I’m becoming next.

So many dreams came true this year – most I planned on in those goals workbooks, others I didn’t (i.e. the beautiful surprise of homeschooling). It’s always a miracle to meet with my Past Self and Future Self in these workbooks. I can see the random threads of my life weaving into a tapestry. What a blessing.

Tis the time to review last year’s goals workbooks… and start filling in next years!

And then dreaming up what is next…

Over the next few weeks (right up until January’s end), I’ll be ensconced in my own dreaming process.

I wrote and illustrated these babies for myself a lifetime ago before I was a mama… thought I’d share them with the world as an afterthought… only for them to become a cult hit used by over 400,000 beautiful souls around the world (!!!!)

Even if I’d just kept them for myself though… they would still be my favourite creation. Such an essential part of my own process for crafting my own life and business.

But I’m glad it’s not just me that’s doing it… that I get to share this journey with so many of you… it makes my heart so happy to hear of YOUR dreams and goals coming true as well.

Haven’t got your 2018 goals workbooks yet?

You can now buy the printed books on Amazon:

Biz printed workbook: http://amzn.to/2z9CuaZ

Life printed workbook: http://amzn.to/2xRaVll

You can also order DIGITAL EBOOKS to fill out digitally or print here: http://shiningyear.com

If ya love ’em, I’d gratefully love a review to help other souls know they are worth their time.

In the meantime…

Let’s go gently.

It’s been a massive year globally. The Tower is falling in so many ways, systems falling apart and old modes of being being exposed to be consciously healed. Needed – yes. Cathartic – yes. Painful, scary, stressful – yes. All these things, all at once.

And we can only do it with self-care and self-compassion, first and foremost. Tend to our wounds so we can tend to the wounds of the world. Tend to the wounds of the world so we can tend to our own. It’s so intrinsically connected.

Come home to our centre, grow within us light, love, compassion and understanding. Then: radiate that out into the world.

I think we can start feeling like our dreams are selfish… and yet they are essential. We must make our dreams and plans for how we want ourselves + the world to heal next. One can’t happen without the other.

We are each needed in this big, beautiful world, with our gentle, loving hearts, and our sky-wide dreams.

Tenderly,