How do You shave?

One of my favorite memories from my childhood is the time my brother, sister, and I bonded over shaving legs in the living room.  You see, our dad’s house used to be a duplex, and so the upstairs and downstairs had the same floorpan, giving the girls – the upstairs lots – our very own living room.  It was normal circumstances for us girls and maybe a girlfriend of one of theirs to hang out on lazy afternoons and evenings there.  Occasionally, our bother would join us.  On one particular night, my eldest sister had decided to allow me to shave her legs for her, while we watched some television show.  I was around eight or ten years old.

In my panic of doing it, worried that I would slice open her leg or something, my brother joined in on the adventure, to show that it was definitely doable by me, since he had never shaved legs, but he was able to do it safely.  And so, he shaved her left leg, and I shaved her right, while she lay on the rug in the living room.  Such beautiful sibling bonding time.  😛

Post-a-day 2018


A letter from my past self

The following is the transcription of a letter I found this week.  (Yes, it was in one of the boxes of papers and folders and such.)  I wish I had found it months ago, when I’d first returned from Japan.  However, it still did me loads of good when I read it the other day.  While I missed out on some bits it mentions, I actually did a really good job of fulfilling most of the tasks prescribed in it… a version of them, anyway.

Anyway, it is a letter I wrote to myself when I was still on my college campus, about to leave to study abroad in Germany and Austria.  As per standards of our school’s study abroad program, we all had to write our future selves a letter, which would be mailed to us upon our return from our study abroad programs.  I fully acknowledge that mine is full of grammatical errors, but that was part of why I was going abroad anyway – to improve my language skills.  Also, the whole letter is written in cursive, because I do that.  The third sentence actually caused me to tear up, and the fourth had me crying.  It’s amazing how right I was, and I really didn’t know that I ever would be in the current situation in which I find myself.


10. April 2012

Hannah Leigh, chèrie,

Ich weiss nicht, was muss ich dir sagen.  Ich kenne dich nicht, weil du so viel gechanged hast.  Welcome home – may it still feel that way to you.  You are forever welcome here, so remember that – you might need it some day.  Okay, here’s what I want you to do:

1) Go record it.  Get on your computer, write up any questions
you would love for others to ask, & then record yourself
answering them.  Then you can do what you want with
it all, but you will have that satisfaction, that completeness,
wholeness of having shared what you needed, desired, wanted
to share.

2) Talk to people.  Make a quick list of what specifically you already
have wanted to share with whom.  Call each person & set up when
& where you will share what you have to share.  Share with them.

3) Talk to Opa.  No matter where he is, go visit him & talk with
him completely in German.

4) Find someone local with whom you can be open, close, & frank, & speak
only German (or completely German) together with ease.

5) Remember that it’s all right not to “know” who you are.  Knowing
makes no difference, anyway, so no good reason to bother with it.
Look yourself in the mirror & see all that has passed, & be open to
all that will come.

6) You are woman & you create the universe with your being.  Your
power is endless, & it is selfless love that feels it.  Love your
mother & your Mother.  Love your self wholly, & your next
step will become available and visible to you.

7) Be at peace.  Even if it was &/or is hard, it is all relative.
Take it for the beneficial experience that it is, & enjoy every
bit you have gotten & will get from it all.

8) Now & every time you see that it just might possibly help,
take a deep breath & close your eyes, letting your thoughts
run around & then calm naturally as you breathe deeply.

I love you & I wish you all the best.  I am here with you always, though I will now be transformed from the time I wrote this letter.  My understanding & my love have only increased & expanded, I promise.  You are wonderful.  You are beautiful.  You are mine.

I love you.  Love me, too.
❤ Peace       Hannah Leigh


P.S. Pretend I pressed a flower in here to give you a wholesome smile & kiss.  🙂 oxox


Post-a-day 2018

Creating my space

Today’s first step was to create this vision.  It was rather easy to create, really.  And I can see it all quite clearly.  I am really struggling with what will come next, though, and I don’t know why I’m bothering resisting it.  I think the feeling is that it will be difficult to do, and that I will mess it all up somehow.  I guess I could just bracket the concerns, and go into it full-heartedly and consciously, with intention.  Otherwise, I’ll just keep resisting and getting nothing useful, happy, or good accomplished at all.  😛

I wake in the morning happy, have some tea or hot chocolate, and do some yoga, stretching, and meditation.  I dress easily in clothes selected last night.  As I check my reflection in the mirror, I am delighted in what I see all around.  On the days I want it, I sit down at a large mirror and put on some makeup.  Otherwise, I just brush my hair.

I have a work space with a sewing machine, and clothes rack behind it with my current and most recent work hanging.  There is an asel in the corner with beautiful and happy painting supplies.  An art box is near it, filled with the art supplies I use, and a small arrangement of blank canvases.  There is lots of white in the rooms, but a warmth from different home-y pieces around… mostly shades of blue and wood-brown.  I have a place to set my laptop on a desk (after pulling it out from a shelf or drawer, where it was put away) to work using it, with a notebook next to it for thoughts and notes.  My woven stool sits in the corner for sitting, reading, meditating, with my sheepskin partly atop it.  There is a large rug or two on the floor, with a few feather throw pillows around casually.  I make bracelets and malas on the floor, and always pick up everything when I finish a session.  I have a creative collage happening on one wall – a dream board.  I see it and admire it every day, and add to it occasionally, as I find new pieces I want to have be part of it.  My work room is a haven of peace, giddy delight, and the creativity of God and Woman.

Sometimes, I sit with tea while music plays on the record player.  I do my art – sewing, painting, or making my stone bead art (bracelets and malas, mostly) – and usually have music playing, often on the record player.  It sits to the side, with a small set of albums by it.

My bedroom is calm and cozy and inviting.  It is very clean-feeling.  I spend my time here mostly only after I have recently showered.  My essential oils and incense are set up in here.  When I get ready for bed, I have a set place to put my dirty clothes, and it is small – just large enough for a load or two of washing, and always slightly empty.  I select between two or three beloved shampoos and conditioners when I shower, and I wrap myself in towels that I love when I finish.  It is easy to pull out my floss, toothbrush, toothpaste and return them to their easy places.  The same with the rubbing alcohol and Q-tips.  Sometimes I have another tea after my shower and before brushing my teeth.  I brush my hair and meditate, before doing my bedtime reading, all in the light of fairy lights and maybe a standing lamp in the corner with similar light.  I pull out my clothes for the next day after I check the expected weather.  I fall asleep happily.

In all of this, I did not see my own clothing.  It is all put away, except for the outfit I have selected for the day, which is laying out, waiting for me.  I have a small section of “Memory Materials” in, I think, my room, for my future partner and/or child/ren to peruse with and without me.

I read, but I didn’t notice any books in the vision I created.  (Just about four of them.)  I also noticed no movies…  


I had to talk with my brother about the book part.  He thinks I’ve hit upon something profound about the way I want to live and the relationship I have with books.  I have them all documented as “Read” and “Want to read” on GoodReads, anyway, so why do I need to keep a physical record?  I’m not 100% convinced that I’d be happy down the road if I didn’t keep a handful of my sought-out books from my youth, but I do believe that I am fine letting even more go than I had ever anticipated… I mean, I already went through them briefly today, just to see how I felt when I looked at them from this new perspective, and pulled out about a sixth of the books… with ease and comfort.  So, yeah…  This will be an adventure.  I am certain of it.

Post-a-day 2018


Unpacking & Unboxing

Three and a half thoughts:

1.  I spent my afternoon today opening and sorting boxes from Japan.  I finally have the much-needed winter clothing I’ve been wanting the past month and a half.  Good thing it was almost warm today.

2.  I was happily surprised that almost everything I brought back was totally practical and useful and something I really like.  I was worried that I wouldn’t like loads of it all.

3.  It’s interesting to me how Japan no longer feels like a sort of adventure.  It actually surprises me when people have big reactions to the fact that I was there, living there.  It feels the same as saying that I buy vegetables at the grocery store – it’s just something simple and everyday.  I lived in Japan… and so do millions of other people.  I know that it isn’t the regular deal for people around here; I’m clear on that.  I just mean that it feels so not special to me specifically.  It almost feels more unique that I floss my teeth every day (sometimes more than once a day), than that I lived in Japan.  I guess it’s just old news for me now. So does that mean I need some new news, then, if only for myself?

1/2.  Wait until you see the tubs of kimono that I have…!  (Doesn’t that sound like ice cream or something?)  😛

Post-a-day 2018


Unpaid, at last?

I realized today that right now is the perfect time for one of those necessary unpaid internships designed to get into a field of work.  I have a place to live, and am mostly provided food and water, and all without immediate cost to me.  And I have support from family to pursue what I feel is best.  I just need to keep up my end of the semi-agreement for the next toward a half (-ish) months, and I expect that the food and shelter will remain available to me at the same cost for quite some time… giving me the perfect opportunity to test out those jobs that have intrigued me, but would not offer money for the first little while of working in them.

We shall see..


Post-a-day 2017


A foreigner at home?

Have you ever felt out of place within your own culture?  As time passes, it happens to me more and more often.  Last night, I attended an event with coworkers.  The noise volume took me by slight surprise when I first arrived.  How can people be this loud? I thought.  And then I remembered almost before I finished asking the question: They’re americans (from the USA).

But I’m american from the US, too.  Wouldn’t I be used to this, then?

I quickly compared it to a drinking party at an izakaya (like a bar) with nomihodai (all-you-can-drink) in Japan.  Yes, the Japanese can get quite loud there.  It was never to the point of wanting to cover my ears, though, I hear myself thinking.  So, I am very much accustomed to a much quieter environment for parties, then.  I’m not just being a bit dramatic and overly sensitive to normal behavior and a normal situation.

Even still… I felt so oddly out of place, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with myself.  I ended up semi-hiding in the coatroom (it wasn’t a closet, but an actual room, I promise) to take a breather from all the people and the noise from time to time.  I also took extra-long any time I went to the bathroom, because it was cozy and quiet in there on my own. Yes, I could have just gone home.  However, I rarely spend time even around people who aren’t high schoolers right now, so I felt it was somewhat necessary – even if just for social practice – to spend time around adults, especially happy ones in a good, safe environment.

I definitely adjusted after a bit, but I still felt quite out of place for most of the event.  I guess I’m just not so USA american anymore… which doesn’t surprise me, really.  It’s just odd, not belonging in a place everyone calls my “home”.

Post-a-day 2017


Late-night shared delights

I remember the time I showed someone I love how to shift the gears in a manual car.  Actually, I remember all of the times I have done this.  However, one in particular came to mind tonight, and I smiled at the memory.

We had gotten secret donuts together on the way to drive her home.  She managed to do a good job shifting, as I drove and told her exactly what to do each time.  Afterward, the gear shifter was sticky.  I panicked at first, and then remembered the donuts.  Who’d have thunk that a sticky gear shifter could make me smile, as opposed to recoil in tears?  I cleaned it all off with little concern… something so rare for me.  It meant that I really loved her, as well as the experience.  I still treasure them both. 🙂

Post-a-day 2017