tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29713831038661514432024-03-23T12:12:46.030-07:00The World We CreateUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-84635433603440770962024-03-01T13:03:00.000-08:002024-03-20T11:14:23.548-07:00The Beautiful Cost of Unexpected 'Picture Perfect' Moments<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNoMUyEekPX3emT_DGY2MmnLJHBN2bn3kA8XKtatsccbgA-oWtf-6DlQqmKSXCxv9C7NCYJkx8OBud-STM8Rw5KNfr1s_3LSbi0mvOdJs-qMtRwdGcxFXL-zT7rnfL_Ak0QfxxkGRxUgHQi5b18XNdcSxVY4JCJ5NOjJHmOdhq-AE7F5l3fwiqZjqq_O0/s1440/Resized_20231127_171146.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNoMUyEekPX3emT_DGY2MmnLJHBN2bn3kA8XKtatsccbgA-oWtf-6DlQqmKSXCxv9C7NCYJkx8OBud-STM8Rw5KNfr1s_3LSbi0mvOdJs-qMtRwdGcxFXL-zT7rnfL_Ak0QfxxkGRxUgHQi5b18XNdcSxVY4JCJ5NOjJHmOdhq-AE7F5l3fwiqZjqq_O0/s320/Resized_20231127_171146.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">As much as I adore February, where I live in Canada, this is about the time where I begin to crave the sun, leaving the house without boots/ toque/coat, and seeing green life. This is the time when I have to encourage myself and my family to seek out the lights in the darkness. Sometimes the world around us is bleak and it takes an activated mindset to see the good, the beautiful or the kind. Sometimes, we need someone to see it for us. At the beginning of January, we had a Disney Tangled moment made real thanks to my childhood best friend. The gratitude of that rooted connection manifest in a balloon floating to freedom which felt like the best type of paradox. </span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMi5ozLo1Pd4e7Zu9oIhY_B29KKJq2qmpR39zGlTKNIKT4mzznTJ4PcEiX15pjnTUAsPsZGx3uAfkskvbt7CWA8RLPnNsIiGO-rgE8NntLhfZJIaJuU_idQXzKHl3jCVKFT7X2JSmgkLwaspb9rsVZBrNab6StbmtNAHc-_nLNXQbIhPLhnr-TJArrzGM/s2000/Black%20and%20Cream%20Vintage%20Christmas%20Photo%20Collage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMi5ozLo1Pd4e7Zu9oIhY_B29KKJq2qmpR39zGlTKNIKT4mzznTJ4PcEiX15pjnTUAsPsZGx3uAfkskvbt7CWA8RLPnNsIiGO-rgE8NntLhfZJIaJuU_idQXzKHl3jCVKFT7X2JSmgkLwaspb9rsVZBrNab6StbmtNAHc-_nLNXQbIhPLhnr-TJArrzGM/w266-h400/Black%20and%20Cream%20Vintage%20Christmas%20Photo%20Collage.png" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>This seemingly picture perfect moment (above) was actively chosen. I chose to attend this event even though I was still recovering from illness and talking felt like shard glass. I honestly did not want to go because I wanted my bed more. The picture looks more appealing to me than how I felt at the time (I am so thankful for photos where I can enjoy the moment once again without the sensory data messing it up and be grateful for it!) More importantly these moments were chosen long ago… when I chose to cultivate a deep friendship with the host of these festivities. One of my best friends since grade 5. This moment was brought to me by extremely tough past choices. 1.) Choosing to stay in a town we felt squelched by (now we thrive in the same town!) 2.) Leaning into friendship when at times the conflict or differing life choices can ebb and flow. 3.) Saying yes often when I want to say no. 4.) Choosing to have a family instead of rising in the ranks of career and being encouraged by a friend who chose the same. (I wrote about the thirty best choices of my life on my thirtieth birthday <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2017/11/30-of-some-of-my-best-decisions-in-30.html?m=1" target="_blank">HERE</a>. Re reading after my fortieth, I realized they still hold up for myself - but maybe toned down a bit with some calm and a little less sass than at thirty? One can hope…<a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2017/11/30-of-some-of-my-best-decisions-in-30.html?m=1">https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2017/11/30-of-some-of-my-best-decisions-in-30.html?m=1</a>) </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimirozBJIJeYCDtfrIeF1SNUp9FONXp2Z-aNGoQAPKEcs77tiOp5XJaqq7RDQUKtpELKUCjPFXIxQbiw37EI9VA4eXH1oo8caSPhCgPpSbcVGCfZZdOzSSgijz-uOvH74YnCgy2c69zJUApgbO3PpiK8jbSRM_WL2pXWa-8XVvCwOb6JaUXfGwFh8FeF2P/s2000/9BE28CAF-4176-4A1A-842C-4F715BE8EE93.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimirozBJIJeYCDtfrIeF1SNUp9FONXp2Z-aNGoQAPKEcs77tiOp5XJaqq7RDQUKtpELKUCjPFXIxQbiw37EI9VA4eXH1oo8caSPhCgPpSbcVGCfZZdOzSSgijz-uOvH74YnCgy2c69zJUApgbO3PpiK8jbSRM_WL2pXWa-8XVvCwOb6JaUXfGwFh8FeF2P/w400-h320/9BE28CAF-4176-4A1A-842C-4F715BE8EE93.png" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>This is the only online space I am on (I do not have any Social Media) and yet I still feel compelled to point out that these beautiful picture perfect moments I have...Most of them have come with a cost. Most of them are beautiful because they are sought out, chosen, and hard won. Almost all have a back story...and then, there are the occasional moments that were simply a gift from above without merit or choosing or "winning" but just because...and those are rare jewels in a world full of competing images.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SVRhy0fvVrmMuVWhl43fvBFoUSQA0xeQEL3_87gtlrS1uzP6fzQkfotuff9qmShiHSCuXXaeVI9AQKTdW_GD-dvNJ9070Fi2F2UbJLHbBfOzqz1vy7KT_IIUD4CjbRcqs0Ne42-kLSq3XKGjLbKXcgAtFKAETncwFT8kqgy9DS02JxkiaaYk95WgzxDN/s4032/IMG_1711.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SVRhy0fvVrmMuVWhl43fvBFoUSQA0xeQEL3_87gtlrS1uzP6fzQkfotuff9qmShiHSCuXXaeVI9AQKTdW_GD-dvNJ9070Fi2F2UbJLHbBfOzqz1vy7KT_IIUD4CjbRcqs0Ne42-kLSq3XKGjLbKXcgAtFKAETncwFT8kqgy9DS02JxkiaaYk95WgzxDN/s320/IMG_1711.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">We have a resident Santa in town who gets paid at Fairmont Hotels in the mountains nearby. My husband has this running gag with him in which he yells to him, "Santa!!!” in a kids excited tone... Out of his construction truck window, all year round when the sun shines hot, and 'Santa' will holler back a deep “Ho ho ho!” Around ten on Christmas Eve after our company had gone a doorbell rang. Santa stated he just had to stop by after a gig he had (so he was dressed in his best!) because of my husband’s constant enthusiasm. He had a tough year where some fundamentalists (who make the mistake of seeing their issues before people) accused him of being Satan for promoting Santa. To which we heartily disagreed and stated that he is an icon of giving and modelled after a Saint. (Anyone who tries to bring joy and cheer to others can’t be equated with Satan as Satan can not bring anything good according to Christian belief- so these people are obviously not thinking logically.) That aside, we found his presence beautiful. People usually are startled and laugh when they hear my husband yell 'Santa' at a man with a beard all year long, but some people think we are weird. Because we are different and that is simply the complexity of community. People can be weird. Sometimes the magic is in the unexpected. Sometimes it is simply when we decide to open up our door.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgriwo6LALV16J0WLqxJXovFgcVhhN5FWgGZ5Ee5QggGNWBYUUrYTBUO2RDKJCGnNIzxAfjBDfSMJX2P0oyjmEFb8B8C39WtfKXC-Tof5obuOUNE-IQYHsogPzii_PljTC0P25TG44dg138ftLRthZrL1FeotQQILBPRb3wFHEV8-3WNkscq4tUdZeoRD/s2000/E9474006-184D-4BBC-97A5-571A4B6730C1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgriwo6LALV16J0WLqxJXovFgcVhhN5FWgGZ5Ee5QggGNWBYUUrYTBUO2RDKJCGnNIzxAfjBDfSMJX2P0oyjmEFb8B8C39WtfKXC-Tof5obuOUNE-IQYHsogPzii_PljTC0P25TG44dg138ftLRthZrL1FeotQQILBPRb3wFHEV8-3WNkscq4tUdZeoRD/s320/E9474006-184D-4BBC-97A5-571A4B6730C1.png" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4EUAyn7YGIAlX9sx4pr3W399QHy_u6OpgkHB26J-e9D-YT87hH7_j6ctsBE2CTCc8xg3CAKGaJKz7a1HaYwbsrFPV-I8SgCTwpPO2eRR5gVkR6vMLQV9ve9sesxsF322x7wMTW6T_XkLq8ZFvXVl3fGUpELDwDSFXuLzKcAQ4Lc34t7BBr8WfHK_En3D/s2000/CF8471AD-6485-4107-BC5E-EE3184E3AA0D.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4EUAyn7YGIAlX9sx4pr3W399QHy_u6OpgkHB26J-e9D-YT87hH7_j6ctsBE2CTCc8xg3CAKGaJKz7a1HaYwbsrFPV-I8SgCTwpPO2eRR5gVkR6vMLQV9ve9sesxsF322x7wMTW6T_XkLq8ZFvXVl3fGUpELDwDSFXuLzKcAQ4Lc34t7BBr8WfHK_En3D/s320/CF8471AD-6485-4107-BC5E-EE3184E3AA0D.png" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">My husband has always had an uncanny relationship with homeless people. He chats with them and draws out their stories and cheer. Against the brick wall on a cold December day, an older man whom was quite dirty and quite bent sat huddled. What struck our family was that he had the most beautiful, clear blue eyes. My kids said they were waiting for him to turn into a wizard like Gandalf because of his absolutely stunning eyes. I had to pick something up inside and I noticed there were fuzzy blankets there that were on from $80 to For $30 on sale so I bought him one of those. What you have to understand is that at the time, I had exactly 35 dollars in our account. We were late on getting paid and we were not sure (at the time) where our next job was coming from and currently do not have savings due to renos we are doing. So I was actually slightly torn for a moment...but then I realized all of our needs are met while his were not. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">How can I expect and trust God to meet our needs if we do not share when we can? On the drive to the city for our appointment and pick up, I was very worried about our upcoming finances and lack of job prospects ( as I didn’t know we had less lined up then we thought. God always provides but sometimes we struggle through and other times we are blessed beyond what we need) Most times I lean into faith because in our 20 plus marriage, we pretty much go down to zero for most of the month, but we always survive and we always have enough! When we are feeding a bunch of teen friends regularly, somehow the food keeps being provided for. Honestly, despite God continually showing us we have what we need, sometimes I struggle. I was trying to give my concerns to God, but I was still rather grumpy. My self discipline was failing and I was worrying anyway. I knew I was sullen and not a picture of grace for my kids so I tried to sing along to the music and not mope. All I really wanted to do was put my head in my hands and my kids were watching me and I was failing at having that balance … </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But in that moment, I think the homeless person ministered to me more than we ministered to him. It was right after we arrived in town and he was pretty happy with his life. While I was in the store, he told a lot of his life story to my husband and had a sense of contentment that I was struggling with myself! Seeing his clear blue eyes and the way he smiled despite what seemed like a very mangled body, I felt completely undone. I was convicted in the best way. I saw the mirror and realized what I wanted to be instead of what I was. I get to be forty! I have a thrift store that provides our families entire wardrobe of designer pieces for under ten dollars an item, so we get to dress well. My house is full of beauty to share with others. We eat and share. We have community and we have solitary faith. We have beauty to wake to each day. We have family and peace and warm beds and freedom. Yet, there I was, upset at what I perceived as a lack of certainty when that can also be a gift. A lack of certainty can cause us to rely on the ONE whom Is. While I do not uphold poverty, I do think there is something to be said for being poor enough to wonder where the next meal or mortgage money is coming from but rich enough to have a home in the first place and it full of beauty. How incredibly blessed is that? I was faced with the mirror of self and God flipped it with a man staring back with dignity and grace despite circumstances and I had to hold back my tears from this Aha moment of BEING.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aPu-Bs7Gv_KhVkip2rYHkRKOPQiQo7x3CS4mRsnevq19lpsnN1aVHDblwlBXnuQHmsjL-88yF7Nv_qHJlTVPIogTI7zSUUV-cuguCJdgZ0SF5NaDv6h3-E80wk_8HTRkcbB7SZfMYWi7RseeBKF_rMSDk9sc0XBdTgMAAtrgeO_TN02KbgkfaOl6YgPi/s2000/2173D8FD-68CC-4F6E-AF12-16C04F885B4C.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3aPu-Bs7Gv_KhVkip2rYHkRKOPQiQo7x3CS4mRsnevq19lpsnN1aVHDblwlBXnuQHmsjL-88yF7Nv_qHJlTVPIogTI7zSUUV-cuguCJdgZ0SF5NaDv6h3-E80wk_8HTRkcbB7SZfMYWi7RseeBKF_rMSDk9sc0XBdTgMAAtrgeO_TN02KbgkfaOl6YgPi/s320/2173D8FD-68CC-4F6E-AF12-16C04F885B4C.png" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuRMzWk_CqjZh20Tg7NWNYb2zOMH2WARQDtCbTl7lYkuDLj50V1yQduptZmc30g9B22kjaFmBVPc4nD0Q5ViISffMEFuNHXwWfjGPNUSkZvs_QjtHdCfIkewjV2G7TS0xohHRzettVdeixHD2AB0SEdVq6sCgRx-V_wwGhkBXq-D3R7151zbuodcBQ5yv/s2000/0C1AAAD1-B66C-4DCC-B671-0B998CB34E62.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuRMzWk_CqjZh20Tg7NWNYb2zOMH2WARQDtCbTl7lYkuDLj50V1yQduptZmc30g9B22kjaFmBVPc4nD0Q5ViISffMEFuNHXwWfjGPNUSkZvs_QjtHdCfIkewjV2G7TS0xohHRzettVdeixHD2AB0SEdVq6sCgRx-V_wwGhkBXq-D3R7151zbuodcBQ5yv/s320/0C1AAAD1-B66C-4DCC-B671-0B998CB34E62.png" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWBjcmbJVU29IXT77x6f7LRtcWGjb8SKLQvIzG2kqfeeNas0WP1-RlPuc7vmhB4cmOif1043290Ua8BDbw3q3NaBiDovy9mCPiTAg_RxiP1g0BtedGBH8yNr0vWqHmkkzhtnbtEXRFMlbLPERQRK4hizGjuVmzRPDHkEO7Ol_gV-5hUJ6R6s9xDihnPVh/s2000/Purple%20White%20Statement%20Hair%20Photo%20Collage%20-%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"> <img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNWBjcmbJVU29IXT77x6f7LRtcWGjb8SKLQvIzG2kqfeeNas0WP1-RlPuc7vmhB4cmOif1043290Ua8BDbw3q3NaBiDovy9mCPiTAg_RxiP1g0BtedGBH8yNr0vWqHmkkzhtnbtEXRFMlbLPERQRK4hizGjuVmzRPDHkEO7Ol_gV-5hUJ6R6s9xDihnPVh/w200-h160/Purple%20White%20Statement%20Hair%20Photo%20Collage%20-%202.png" width="200" /> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UojTjwXvcPcCIud0xDTUFw9-H8vmfZUAsJdBcRaZX_-XPAjLAnEDVEBKcOUZGT8YhUaSp5frscN65iX0mTItqGcTMCZzxP9n4ssR52cA9U94r7ZVtHDm-VSv_06YyEoe3LfnHZUFJ2FpaXO1J1I_iDq8Fr2wXDoJHEelEZjuJw1eU8T7pKqV6DO5F_nf/s2000/1AD6DFB1-3EDD-407E-9ADD-A5471DA7591E.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UojTjwXvcPcCIud0xDTUFw9-H8vmfZUAsJdBcRaZX_-XPAjLAnEDVEBKcOUZGT8YhUaSp5frscN65iX0mTItqGcTMCZzxP9n4ssR52cA9U94r7ZVtHDm-VSv_06YyEoe3LfnHZUFJ2FpaXO1J1I_iDq8Fr2wXDoJHEelEZjuJw1eU8T7pKqV6DO5F_nf/s320/1AD6DFB1-3EDD-407E-9ADD-A5471DA7591E.png" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugnh2fCrDmpV-fpBZTakxlb-VK9ajvaxAIUFp_ZFZZGTTVCqO8551PtGC0QR4hawAAqp252-8DSt33GncqQBi-hU8OIPPhO1ElL4_t-qY5IVhJL59ecyNwAAv5kapMbPqPbWb-ARBDAPayXj8gIyGyvv7H5-yzLKUgBkWITIP6_lMoLThPSGzehE7mdBm/s2000/3F8A329C-DCBE-4E81-914F-B7B8C549FBDF.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugnh2fCrDmpV-fpBZTakxlb-VK9ajvaxAIUFp_ZFZZGTTVCqO8551PtGC0QR4hawAAqp252-8DSt33GncqQBi-hU8OIPPhO1ElL4_t-qY5IVhJL59ecyNwAAv5kapMbPqPbWb-ARBDAPayXj8gIyGyvv7H5-yzLKUgBkWITIP6_lMoLThPSGzehE7mdBm/s320/3F8A329C-DCBE-4E81-914F-B7B8C549FBDF.png" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vxtcG12JfVEKgbXIDo96l4kl3f4J5k3Wv3BculpH4MZ_n7gVk50KdKlKFO0m9lhNJTsIjpK2dwsAaVH4_0l50DDogyfNS_4W06_LvAEVIE3H7i0jAj9nfiZWr2R7xl1otdmzsKmbYeXaoufgkmCzvpOU8Rfz4fccjtQN2DmJTh4yJV4-s50uh1sRd4TQ/s2000/5EBDC03A-8A79-4DD7-B51B-39C1D3C6B736.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9vxtcG12JfVEKgbXIDo96l4kl3f4J5k3Wv3BculpH4MZ_n7gVk50KdKlKFO0m9lhNJTsIjpK2dwsAaVH4_0l50DDogyfNS_4W06_LvAEVIE3H7i0jAj9nfiZWr2R7xl1otdmzsKmbYeXaoufgkmCzvpOU8Rfz4fccjtQN2DmJTh4yJV4-s50uh1sRd4TQ/s320/5EBDC03A-8A79-4DD7-B51B-39C1D3C6B736.png" width="213" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>We will not be understood by the masses although Social Media sure makes us try our hardest to be liked. Not one of us will have all people like us or get us. Even good people will misunderstand due to differences in personality or brain wiring. In the last couple months I have had a few people remark on our home and it's "materialism." One was a kind intellectual priest who stated, "Your home is a blend of fantasy and tradition. The inner westerner and materialist in me loves it." To which I was both insulted and flattered. I realize he was being genuine and true to his philosophy in the world. He was a speaker in our home and new to us, so he did not know our context, which is always an enlightening evening. A few weeks later another stranger was in our home (we host many strangers in our odd little existence) and he stated a little sermon on materialism as he looked around. We knew where he was going with it, but we smiled and nodded and changed the subject. <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xeNPuC98Ctos_LrvF40zLLnasdy-IpPud9vtpIlDsAgC1dx-tHykp8M8ftkhMCm3pwzBypWdmrbdyoV3MnH3wFE7P4KessVHaJoBGunJvDhZRUGNKaxAURmzgqLx6k76sps-Yr5kAC1q5exBqX9mTsjEZn7dRSg84DXBkwMSKkZguR7Y6-YuJ4q5RQf5/s2000/91EEEADB-3200-4AF0-9AD4-B4F401F9FCBF.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xeNPuC98Ctos_LrvF40zLLnasdy-IpPud9vtpIlDsAgC1dx-tHykp8M8ftkhMCm3pwzBypWdmrbdyoV3MnH3wFE7P4KessVHaJoBGunJvDhZRUGNKaxAURmzgqLx6k76sps-Yr5kAC1q5exBqX9mTsjEZn7dRSg84DXBkwMSKkZguR7Y6-YuJ4q5RQf5/s320/91EEEADB-3200-4AF0-9AD4-B4F401F9FCBF.png" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13NiktM9y3vldjhDiSki2irjtpWda0KRyje2WbTyP2dpjR65gxqV-RZh47k0SVHfES8D9PUfBg6M2rUohhYMeScC7cXxFMZ6-uLzJ7AMfqJaeCcu4hNwBjAp4SCzBfWitkLkpd401u2_FGMY8nZbSYrSLE2gR6hKlBfJe2b7_lEFKLa8lRU3yRIgQWPyT/s2000/FE07AE91-9C9E-4DBB-8A01-67D9E53DBE32.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13NiktM9y3vldjhDiSki2irjtpWda0KRyje2WbTyP2dpjR65gxqV-RZh47k0SVHfES8D9PUfBg6M2rUohhYMeScC7cXxFMZ6-uLzJ7AMfqJaeCcu4hNwBjAp4SCzBfWitkLkpd401u2_FGMY8nZbSYrSLE2gR6hKlBfJe2b7_lEFKLa8lRU3yRIgQWPyT/s320/FE07AE91-9C9E-4DBB-8A01-67D9E53DBE32.png" width="213" /></a></div><div>What I find interesting is that often the people who state these things, drive up to our house in vehicles we have never been able to attain. (Our recent truck was funded for us to pay back slowly by a generous person in the community who was tired of seeing my husband use a 500 van with busted doors to do his construction job. It was a huge blessing, but even the price tag for us was an insane consideration.) These same people are often rocking high end shoes, watches, the latest phone, or outfits and often when the conversation comes around to thrifting, it's met with confused looks. They talk about vacations as givens, and tickets to anything with ease. Which I celebrate for them actually! I love it when we have enough to do a small vacation or buy tickets to a musical. These are rare treats and life is also meant to be enjoyed! But we do not see these things as a given or part of a healthy life to thrive. We see them as bonuses. So why are we defining materialist labels based on stuff that is on a wall? There are MANY MANY ways to be a materialist. As a caveat I will state, sometimes those who drop hints about our 'materialism' are not well off either, but generally, it is the poorer people than us, who stand in awe and say gracious things... I admit my home is odd and not everyone is going to like it. That I am fine with. But little digs or sermons on materialism have me biting down my self control. I realize they are not trying to be condescending or holier or judgmental...or maybe they are! But they are choosing to see the world in a certain slant. Because what a person sees is simply that I have a gift of using thrifted finds, colour, and gifted items, to make a space feel magical and cozy and FULL. I have a tough time seeing blank spaces with my particular autism quirks. I feel my home is a canvas of expression. I am great at finding quality items for barely anything or improving an item from a second hand store. I love my materials to work with as an image maker of God who enjoys creating. But I know that even if it was all gone, I would grieve but I would create again. I would slowly begin again until my home was once again full of colour, mirrors, sparkles and wonder. It's about beauty of creation. It's about rooted joy and making a space be a little piece of heaven on earth. When I decorate, I pray and sing and take joy the entire time that my family will feel inspired and secure so that they can go out and serve and share. I pray that those that walk in, even if they blatantly dislike it, will feel God's peace lived out somehow. This is a practice I have done since I was a teen in my own little room. My space is my place to act out a bit of my soul, so that I can in turn, give and share. Which I do not expect others to know upon walking in...but I hope they feel it. To those that don't- I have come to realize that they need different spaces and people...and that is ok too. "No regrets baby, you go your way and I'll go mine- It's been a real good time...No regrets baby, I just think that maybe it's natural when things lose their shine, So other things can glow. I've gotten older, now I know how to take care of myself. I've found a deeper well." - Kacey Musgraves lyrics.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYj-ys4m4A5zzlBlT049ADDsNZgihI4AcQD_s5vhsjRf7WInp3dYBvqEFFtHLJPYihMFhxivxKar-de5CSzOdyVnKKTPuMBo5Hy0RflTCsQ2v8v02Fm_VOidtwewB0BQ8wDmuwPM1I90WXx2PDaSowpetvh6nVFBWaNl5Mx8Nugl7581N5nrs3gaKYqXaD/s2000/09BBC7AE-0024-4378-B220-2FCC3B65110E.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYj-ys4m4A5zzlBlT049ADDsNZgihI4AcQD_s5vhsjRf7WInp3dYBvqEFFtHLJPYihMFhxivxKar-de5CSzOdyVnKKTPuMBo5Hy0RflTCsQ2v8v02Fm_VOidtwewB0BQ8wDmuwPM1I90WXx2PDaSowpetvh6nVFBWaNl5Mx8Nugl7581N5nrs3gaKYqXaD/s320/09BBC7AE-0024-4378-B220-2FCC3B65110E.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-w4jlHQgPkEWs6nzdQckH_oAobWiI6agAJgJP9AwX9B_1W2hxMxXEZfs321IJ6yTkBNNj2p1s96YnIURSyhApKw4t5x0PCWhb5b-1cq94JW5XcYeOtYZ1c8Ifo3PDKGx61WgVYtgq4vmxFwR3K7GwkBlZtwDsF3u15fWn2hyjuOLITMSE3RnPVSLh2_1/s2000/138D0550-6E8B-467B-9734-9A54DEDBF2B2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-w4jlHQgPkEWs6nzdQckH_oAobWiI6agAJgJP9AwX9B_1W2hxMxXEZfs321IJ6yTkBNNj2p1s96YnIURSyhApKw4t5x0PCWhb5b-1cq94JW5XcYeOtYZ1c8Ifo3PDKGx61WgVYtgq4vmxFwR3K7GwkBlZtwDsF3u15fWn2hyjuOLITMSE3RnPVSLh2_1/s320/138D0550-6E8B-467B-9734-9A54DEDBF2B2.png" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">My Father in Law has a similar gift when it comes to occasions and tablescapes. I am astounded at how he will take such time for a table that will become messy within minutes. It's a beauty given over to be messed up and cleaned up within hours. I feel it's another lesson.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2iFkpEwN_0nguDg6OH-6X56n_ZjcjwZU2NCFCs4wEcz04lyJilEShryW-ZM6avLIFcogfLAAkm9ItWCo8gVL0oSU6fshGTMEVyqUDkscJJLMXHMpm61IxXq5zXBAUcwjGA-pkJl0_PhGvVZ6YdKWlEGr7fhp_4fZaYzGhmVomz3-yXMHu5U0_dREp5uO/s2000/3154E38E-AF95-497D-B071-2266A0F4BC5D.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2iFkpEwN_0nguDg6OH-6X56n_ZjcjwZU2NCFCs4wEcz04lyJilEShryW-ZM6avLIFcogfLAAkm9ItWCo8gVL0oSU6fshGTMEVyqUDkscJJLMXHMpm61IxXq5zXBAUcwjGA-pkJl0_PhGvVZ6YdKWlEGr7fhp_4fZaYzGhmVomz3-yXMHu5U0_dREp5uO/s320/3154E38E-AF95-497D-B071-2266A0F4BC5D.png" width="320" /></a></div></div><div>My daughter, in turn from watching her Grampy host Valentines each year, hosted a Galentines table at our home. She spent almost an entire pay stub on her decorations, gift boxes to send home, and food for all of her lady co workers. Because she wanted them to be seen. Because she wanted them to feel cared for on a holiday when many of them were alone. One gal stated, "Juils I have never in my life had something like this before, when someone made something so beautiful for me, and made me feel so loved by the decor and food."<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqLeGRYnfxxgYmbhkmkz6hoQWwVHlb5TWHrgtjh412VDCuy6yCYKgMGS4IxwHU0BYlRh-c1ee21UYDg_uH_n5FAcxe3nQpstUQ-WxW6aI4rm6oXqcLaLGsW33FY5-_2HROttcgpiAKAEOaRMdHYyAW4ZBwo2QUR6nZpPN6cf3Snn8t_MnIbWxqfetWOFp/s2000/136D629E-FFA5-4B1D-B927-D850020BBE1D.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqLeGRYnfxxgYmbhkmkz6hoQWwVHlb5TWHrgtjh412VDCuy6yCYKgMGS4IxwHU0BYlRh-c1ee21UYDg_uH_n5FAcxe3nQpstUQ-WxW6aI4rm6oXqcLaLGsW33FY5-_2HROttcgpiAKAEOaRMdHYyAW4ZBwo2QUR6nZpPN6cf3Snn8t_MnIbWxqfetWOFp/s320/136D629E-FFA5-4B1D-B927-D850020BBE1D.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In the series 'The Chosen', many times throughout the first few seasons, Jesus is seen eating, feeding and healing and praying in quiet places. In fact, most of his time on earth is documented in this way. Jesus is doing these tangible, ordinary, yet extraordinary, daily tasks while taking the time to make others feel SEEN, Beautiful and HEALED. We can do the same with what we have been given. My father in law has been given Martha Stewart abilities with feasts. My daughter is gifted with incredible generosity and thoughtfulness. I have been gifted a rooted home to share with a husband who is capable of transforming it into the best possible state it can be for hosting and living. We are not the best at meal making but we do what we can in varying phases. We share with what we are able. Imagine the possibilities if each person gave what only they can give...and shared in the beauty of what others give without jealousy or comparison?</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_gJN35asSs9fVIc5ZGUUis3IArB1sae3FjIACSkqLe_G3fBgWSjd6K9H992qUT8VKW8QNVRv7XtdXZynV4DG3nZ9CCYfyG0MkAKl5JSr37WEjBpM10wPxnsR3YP_3xCr2_ryBpvpIJA20bMfBHeWhz9sIRb2NOFSc9bdExOz8ZV88pKe40rY29IKhw9c/s2000/%20Brown%20and%20Khaki%20Simple%20Mother%20And%20Daughter%20Photo%20Collage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_gJN35asSs9fVIc5ZGUUis3IArB1sae3FjIACSkqLe_G3fBgWSjd6K9H992qUT8VKW8QNVRv7XtdXZynV4DG3nZ9CCYfyG0MkAKl5JSr37WEjBpM10wPxnsR3YP_3xCr2_ryBpvpIJA20bMfBHeWhz9sIRb2NOFSc9bdExOz8ZV88pKe40rY29IKhw9c/s320/%20Brown%20and%20Khaki%20Simple%20Mother%20And%20Daughter%20Photo%20Collage.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwM_sR0CN7QdDdo_MZoNc6s3ALBmruY1rRnulAZ9rLC8fX8uuZpET10WvmOKl7x8FqR4xevITsFL9VVauMvwtLz-kYI90TPhFQtybe2_Q6fToslPCFJ77XKQf5JVynr_3Yb5AfqqChMICiDXx2jEAWBBzL2befCVBdKEAMTvgMgteIqDlzD8hKsnU7At6C/s2000/39738F5D-2D44-4F82-9453-23CCFEE97130.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1334" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwM_sR0CN7QdDdo_MZoNc6s3ALBmruY1rRnulAZ9rLC8fX8uuZpET10WvmOKl7x8FqR4xevITsFL9VVauMvwtLz-kYI90TPhFQtybe2_Q6fToslPCFJ77XKQf5JVynr_3Yb5AfqqChMICiDXx2jEAWBBzL2befCVBdKEAMTvgMgteIqDlzD8hKsnU7At6C/s320/39738F5D-2D44-4F82-9453-23CCFEE97130.png" width="213" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>It wasn't until last year that I even had a big enough table to share. So we ate in our tiny living room and shared anyway! Until one day God put it on both our hearts to re structure our house...because sometimes our events stretched our cozy walls. I do not state that God put it on our hearts lightly as I dislike throwing that phrase around. It takes a lot of prayer, intuition and discernment and sometimes God just lets us manage our own lives. But every once in awhile something becomes incredibly clear. Because both of us took time away to pray and came back with the exact same idea without speaking to each other at all prior to...and then funds happened in unlikely ways and we reused most of our building materials, worked long hard hours on top of normal life as a family, created and became. My husband's mantra was, "If we build it they will come..." And yup, our home has been a rotating place with strangers from fully garbed priests to people we never met and will never meet again. Most of all, in our stage of life, our home is a place for young adults to hang out, sleep over between work shifts when the weather is bad, and host different happenings. We hope it's a place for them to feel secure, safe and inspired. Youth today have so much uncertainty and live a life that is often intangible online. We want a place that forces them mostly out of that in awe or wonder or comfort.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjg-m8gCKWBK-lo7Y2Nagj9rKVfMRM9sBy-8W16Bdcg7kIcPs4Y9TqgKXxhRf7r6e2M5JSvJlLR7bMnrXz7wpSe3e9JM2O0agCNWGco992R7ZKkA1-eZj_05K7LSi8jNhoaoqgG6m5t3GGcFhtly6pNFXhN7LQQw9W5-hGCKhSc7jIiEIFhfTvz1xzZc4z/s2000/IMG_2635.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjg-m8gCKWBK-lo7Y2Nagj9rKVfMRM9sBy-8W16Bdcg7kIcPs4Y9TqgKXxhRf7r6e2M5JSvJlLR7bMnrXz7wpSe3e9JM2O0agCNWGco992R7ZKkA1-eZj_05K7LSi8jNhoaoqgG6m5t3GGcFhtly6pNFXhN7LQQw9W5-hGCKhSc7jIiEIFhfTvz1xzZc4z/s320/IMG_2635.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRj0w1_wRngcttB9UEEm-_24jbcXONavzWYSA_QqWIMaDr5j1dJU1QX36RpIyUOtKK6umilaPxnkw2xO6rcApZuye16_Wd_EDrbn7xuHTNs1KuGnEmK95FTk_WUuWIjpuav3aXaXtIsK9uynq-_3qLBufoK0G7pTOjRZXoZtLYCx_M0nQJR3xvQ8Nbu23/s2000/Purple%20White%20Statement%20Hair%20Photo%20Collage%20-%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBRj0w1_wRngcttB9UEEm-_24jbcXONavzWYSA_QqWIMaDr5j1dJU1QX36RpIyUOtKK6umilaPxnkw2xO6rcApZuye16_Wd_EDrbn7xuHTNs1KuGnEmK95FTk_WUuWIjpuav3aXaXtIsK9uynq-_3qLBufoK0G7pTOjRZXoZtLYCx_M0nQJR3xvQ8Nbu23/s320/Purple%20White%20Statement%20Hair%20Photo%20Collage%20-%202.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cX_fLbAX8N4J2XO2eYef0sYE2A5wE7BFfkzabPROxG_jzj1DW8T9UD8qtO9bNOW5FHmYCz4Fv687VKUzrxUsUeg7avh9NZQU5JoqM6YmiEDHhTXybvH_XY_Uz4lO_bIND5x0P2YAHjuYHLrI4grKWyfe6mQsFMJfIg2p1E1UbzgT6h0yi9Zgcbvw6gT_/s2000/Red%20Minimalist%20Happy%20Valentine's%20Day%20Photo%20Collage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cX_fLbAX8N4J2XO2eYef0sYE2A5wE7BFfkzabPROxG_jzj1DW8T9UD8qtO9bNOW5FHmYCz4Fv687VKUzrxUsUeg7avh9NZQU5JoqM6YmiEDHhTXybvH_XY_Uz4lO_bIND5x0P2YAHjuYHLrI4grKWyfe6mQsFMJfIg2p1E1UbzgT6h0yi9Zgcbvw6gT_/s320/Red%20Minimalist%20Happy%20Valentine's%20Day%20Photo%20Collage.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheE2k0KsBM8BCbKbA0M4wtSYWUGc9KivU4cfCu86Ny22tZAyQpvxDVTbxVBiw-xOlbbhJ6O34fA1zPBOg78u11tWOv9-cwP9KbKsOkgmQ4h6UZteOGCthcJToeQsbSQnC9gvX5PZ6ArYzV9xiw-Vskg43heEaNzoP1bgWvcVySRjsjEwYo_HvDPgG9aqo-/s2000/Purple%20Minimalist%20Birthday%20Photo%20Collage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheE2k0KsBM8BCbKbA0M4wtSYWUGc9KivU4cfCu86Ny22tZAyQpvxDVTbxVBiw-xOlbbhJ6O34fA1zPBOg78u11tWOv9-cwP9KbKsOkgmQ4h6UZteOGCthcJToeQsbSQnC9gvX5PZ6ArYzV9xiw-Vskg43heEaNzoP1bgWvcVySRjsjEwYo_HvDPgG9aqo-/s320/Purple%20Minimalist%20Birthday%20Photo%20Collage.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqg_a7rapIomowsUN20A-QuaUK5ZKmWzVQmuKCDsi13IZ3Egs_fjQY5jZFWIGnS1xHdwfxEZsOmJzgqv0ZQv9TxY8XLWinWgrzx1ARFPVUyp2jwElwbajXTEfSFUwW0Zp3JIYJ6gRXPSwBsSsx3OmPpCOozHw3Q64S-SGh5M6hAqPwmuiM92S6Ff6wj4EG/s1920/Brown%20Aesthetic%20Photo%20Collage%20Autumn%20Phone%20Wallpaper.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqg_a7rapIomowsUN20A-QuaUK5ZKmWzVQmuKCDsi13IZ3Egs_fjQY5jZFWIGnS1xHdwfxEZsOmJzgqv0ZQv9TxY8XLWinWgrzx1ARFPVUyp2jwElwbajXTEfSFUwW0Zp3JIYJ6gRXPSwBsSsx3OmPpCOozHw3Q64S-SGh5M6hAqPwmuiM92S6Ff6wj4EG/s320/Brown%20Aesthetic%20Photo%20Collage%20Autumn%20Phone%20Wallpaper.png" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sometimes pleasant surprises happen. Silly things. Moments that do not carry much depth or weight yet become jarring in the everyday. I have never wanted pink hair. It is pretty on other people, but I have never been inclined to try it. I was going for a purple/brunette highlight look but people see colour differently...and also sometimes hair reacts. Even my fix became unexpected ( in that I still see pink more than purple but I must see colour differently !) but I like it enough that I will stick with it for a few months or maybe it will become a new fav? Already my family has stated my attitude has become spicier and they fondly call me "Lil' pink" anytime I make a forthright statement. Unexpected fun because of a mishap. As much as I would love to control so many aspects, often life just happens... Remember that little less sass I was hoping for from my thirty birthday post? Pink hair and a decade later I guess it re surfaced. There are seasons to everything right? Ha! The colour of life is never boring. I'm learning (still at 40) that it's ok to also have fun with the unexpected. "Cuz I, I, I'm in the stars tonight. So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight. Shining through the city with a little funk and soul. So I'ma light it up like dynamite." - BTS Lyrics</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmfOGcZoXlabgiEbpnkTxI88dTdPRO4-tk4-eLq1-mweZ3CGXLi3BzZUrLOeqJAezAeF406pmEN9ZdWuX5k8s9oXl1W7mScIU_sMjbWS7UwsMljHUQMq6NoIA1-4v4glTFlhUkluslvEnmZnmJlvRuaz7UibvvBL488MKxlwBB85onmXQP5XSm1q0Xbg8/s2000/Purple%20White%20Statement%20Hair%20Photo%20Collage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmfOGcZoXlabgiEbpnkTxI88dTdPRO4-tk4-eLq1-mweZ3CGXLi3BzZUrLOeqJAezAeF406pmEN9ZdWuX5k8s9oXl1W7mScIU_sMjbWS7UwsMljHUQMq6NoIA1-4v4glTFlhUkluslvEnmZnmJlvRuaz7UibvvBL488MKxlwBB85onmXQP5XSm1q0Xbg8/s320/Purple%20White%20Statement%20Hair%20Photo%20Collage.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomE7aZPtCUgcBsUNN_kmMqmCgOxf_x5gXTc8XlNwhTdX-xNAW2Z4kl1QbRc-TPFp1giXAaYvW5HAPrHNNGobaOlOc0d3w2CeEID5ksqnoQLoXR9D8rlER-eXAxOxNEVESNUMeyrwGMB_lVB0FINlnM7ezrnt5mzpJoIy-Or1_2NwCBI96iQtFuYqrGpGi/w161-h103/IMG_0641.png" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 238); color: #0000ee; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration: underline;" width="161" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Song Choice: Deeper Well- Kacey Musgraves</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GdENogseNew?si=sJsLTwSrh7yLj2tv" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dynamite- BTS</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gdZLi9oWNZg?si=QUVJhz3dDmhybeC-" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-32842658731653738362023-12-30T09:44:00.000-08:002023-12-30T12:04:42.257-08:00Medical PTSD/ Suffering and Spirituality <p> “The body is the healthy persons faithful ally. The healthy person is allowed to BE their body and they make use of this regularly. They ARE their body. Illness disturbs this assimilation. Our body becomes foreign to us.” ( The Psychology of the sick bed ) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXFY3JMdertZYsGhwzoopHdTQnrSRgvPtBnWEShw8QcHNS89xxprHooJ6lqSLTy0t6nlQ25WniZHdLi_r7wEipKjj-LndRb-I0NZayfdXVC1WBbQvjQu11v7M7CjY78dvntUyrvKTdFPdqfKdqjY9rivAnKBp3ACZz2iy1FdXRjBxXpgdnAyq-OBjjp4B/s4032/IMG_1876.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXFY3JMdertZYsGhwzoopHdTQnrSRgvPtBnWEShw8QcHNS89xxprHooJ6lqSLTy0t6nlQ25WniZHdLi_r7wEipKjj-LndRb-I0NZayfdXVC1WBbQvjQu11v7M7CjY78dvntUyrvKTdFPdqfKdqjY9rivAnKBp3ACZz2iy1FdXRjBxXpgdnAyq-OBjjp4B/s320/IMG_1876.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>I have been accused of struggling with Gnosticism and while a quick google search shows me I am NOT Gnostic - I can see the merit in that observation. My medical history has had its share of trauma (in my twenties I went through many humiliations at hospitals. I’ve tried multiple avenues of healing. For the most part I’m over it but every once in awhile…) </p><p>With chronic illness and my regular symptoms (exhaustion/ overwhelming random pain/ gastro pain and symptoms etc) it often feels like my body betrayed/ betrays me. If I suddenly experienced a “regular” illness on top of normal symptoms the pain is exaggerated . In turn it’s been normal for me to dissociate from my body when it begins symptoms of illness or when I’m in a flare. ( See THIS<a href="https://aboutibd.com/category/podcast/" target="_blank">https://aboutibd.com/category/podcast/</a> podcast for more about PTSD or PTS in chronic conditions.) </p><p>“This feels like an assault - this is dirty, bad, gross, I’m unattractive… the list goes on with certain procedures.” ( enimas, barium’s, stool tests etc) “With medical PTS you can be over utilizers or under utilizers of the medical system due to this.” (Taken from <a href="https://aboutibd.com/category/podcast/" target="_blank">HERE</a>) </p><p>I used to be an over user of the medical system in my twenties which often made my life worse in general. Now I’m an under user. I actively avoid medical situations whenever possible. It didn’t help that my Grandma lived with us and lived with multiple surgeries, pain, pouches and pouch infections and hospital stays that I witnessed from the time I was little. I was sick constantly as a child due to multiple illnesses. I had undiagnosed autism and the sensory / undiagnosed celiac (I haven’t touched gluten in over 14 years and don’t miss the extreme sickness that eased after year two of avoidance) / anemia and heavy periods from age 12 onwards/ undiagnosed fibromyalgia pain and diagnosed IBS … which was the only answer at the time the Drs. could give me. In fact, I recently requested IBS was taken off my chart as I know I have it, but when Drs. take notice that’s usually all they blame. It becomes the focus and most times that is not the reason I am in their office. However, out of all my chronic conditions, GI issues cause the most pain, humiliation and invasive procedures (more so than the multiple reproductive issues and procedures I had.) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsWxW6baduF10_dZpPzeoCCd4ZV0JZ5s8YyDAnto2TSKPNOtgYfV1jQMcKj0luKVd3SAoROT8jMxhxjHxxk9_Om-AZwoeix5lqGdf1G9kMTT1XyMpeK33DbkZDDkUtQryMyT-ancpemDcQXi7RqSkfQMAyVEUZvzKKvIaUwXljLs8LyZGrB6lwFH1_TTv/s3088/IMG_1877.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsWxW6baduF10_dZpPzeoCCd4ZV0JZ5s8YyDAnto2TSKPNOtgYfV1jQMcKj0luKVd3SAoROT8jMxhxjHxxk9_Om-AZwoeix5lqGdf1G9kMTT1XyMpeK33DbkZDDkUtQryMyT-ancpemDcQXi7RqSkfQMAyVEUZvzKKvIaUwXljLs8LyZGrB6lwFH1_TTv/s320/IMG_1877.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>“Learning how to be in your body without wanting to scream and run away.” <a href="https://aboutibd.com/category/podcast/" target="_blank">Source</a> </p><p>I laughed when the podcast suggested couples therapy with one’s own body: that actually sounds helpful. I find that generally healthy individuals have a tough time understanding this concept. My husband is healthy. He has watched me go through many years of procedures, pain and suffering. He has been my advocate and my ally. Yet, he still can’t fully comprehend why, at the first sign of a gastrointestinal illness I check out. He doesn’t fully comprehend why I can’t just allow myself in gratitude to have fellowship with my body on most days. He doesn’t understand my crippling low self esteem when I’m dealing with a new symptom. He doesn’t understand why I feel I always need to be prepared (shaved/ looking put together/ clean) in case I’m taken to the hospital. He is aware that it’s a constant battle for me, he often mentions my strength and endurance, but he is baffled why I can’t just accept a flu bug for what it is and move on easily. </p><p>After all, that’s what he does. </p><p>He doesn’t have lingering flare ups for months after. It doesn’t trigger unpleasant memories of being in his body while he was picked at and prodded or getting ready in the cold surgery room. He doesn’t have memories of being so sick with no end in sight of relief and no answers from medical staff. He can’t comprehend my knowledge of most antibiotic names and side effects or pain meds because he wasn’t tied to an IV multiple times for over a decade. He doesn’t understand that even in sickness I have to look calm and logical because I had a history of most Drs. blaming pain on me and anxiety instead of looking into actual causes. This in turn made me distrust myself even when I was right. It also contributed to my dissociation with my body. He doesn’t fight sensory problems unless he has a migraine. If I was him - I wouldn’t fully understand either. No one likes to be sick or have the stomach virus but for people who already deal with daily gastrointestinal pain and issues - it can feel like a dragon is setting fire to an already charred house. </p><p>I’ve been told I handle death astoundingly well… in conjunction with darker human emotions. I don’t think I would handle the death of my immediate family well to be honest. However, it’s true that I have a certain steel when I need to step up and help someone else through grief or through the journey of the unknown. But in myself? I bury my grief deep. Deep down where the humiliation and shame of my body live, my grief knots itself into tiny barbs. These try to re surface when I’m sick with an unknown virus. It can take me days to recover mentally once my body recovers. Books or movies that normally would only bother me a bit, suddenly create a chasm of confusion and anxiety. I suddenly drown in an outpouring of emotion and stand confused as a few tears slip down my face. Shocked at my leaking eyes I think, “Uh oh K you don’t understand yourself again. Your body is leaking emotion. Disassociate more. Don’t encompass the pain or you’ll break. Compartmentalize! Deal! Move on! Serve others in your pain! Don’t over share … oh you already did? You sent that emotional text? Joke about it. Retract! Retreat! Send a strong message next time or serve a need for them next. Don’t be a burden in your pain. You tend to verbally over process in distress. Picture yourself outside yourself.” </p><p>It sounds insane on paper but this post is probably for the people who understand this type of insanity. You both ARE and ARE not just your body. Just like we ARE and ARE NOT our emotions. We are Spirit and Flesh. We are Imago Dei. We are the beauty of humanity… of course, of course, but we also still have to grapple with trauma, betrayal, the unknown, pain, and misery. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEFhUn5rSlWgRUqWbKLHwg9_w3oPc9UqfvnxRwygp73Nm0DIc5ZRbNeqlMurqoYOIE2EZxeIklhCDlgqckEdx-H5Qfo2tMKqQfc3tREjiKq20zjxO1C1zFmySo76wrtNgGKnUSt2xoMfAxA-h_faj_bwPHccW8KkU8-8YP37lbFfYt-zi3k9RiCBI5K9JH/s4032/IMG_1872.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEFhUn5rSlWgRUqWbKLHwg9_w3oPc9UqfvnxRwygp73Nm0DIc5ZRbNeqlMurqoYOIE2EZxeIklhCDlgqckEdx-H5Qfo2tMKqQfc3tREjiKq20zjxO1C1zFmySo76wrtNgGKnUSt2xoMfAxA-h_faj_bwPHccW8KkU8-8YP37lbFfYt-zi3k9RiCBI5K9JH/s320/IMG_1872.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>I admire people with chronic illness because they are coping with all the hardships of normal life while being housed in an instrument that doesn’t always work. They have to walk the fine line of not allowing the pain and trauma to define them, but also not ignoring their body’s cues for exercise or rest or nutrition. They have to push through pain to BE. But they also have to acknowledge limitations. They won’t always be understood and most of the time their suffering will be unspoken so they can live their best lives without the spotlight of another’s judgement. They are heroes of their own ecosystem that consistently tries to undermine them. They are broken but generally this makes them healers for others because of their relationship to pain. They tend to be seekers of the spiritual truths… because at least that isn’t fully defined by their body. ( Thus the accusation of Gnosticism depending on that degree.) They live without full healing but are so grateful for any tiny easement of pain. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3KvCY3VJgHSNidfKDBS5kkRh-g5KVkkXpVYhyphenhypheneoIaHKHxZa2khvrSz5xJEAr3KfHVCHKRobjbxos6mh8p-bZLMOrcF9M2nwcWPGm6BTKFQtp4WtVeX-zNKsqn2T-1LOJJkJ6FGjGv5_dkclAp4HSssGxBhwlTnkrFkdLekytnfrtm6fnQ8LPjJ1KcUTZ/s4032/IMG_1590.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd3KvCY3VJgHSNidfKDBS5kkRh-g5KVkkXpVYhyphenhypheneoIaHKHxZa2khvrSz5xJEAr3KfHVCHKRobjbxos6mh8p-bZLMOrcF9M2nwcWPGm6BTKFQtp4WtVeX-zNKsqn2T-1LOJJkJ6FGjGv5_dkclAp4HSssGxBhwlTnkrFkdLekytnfrtm6fnQ8LPjJ1KcUTZ/s320/IMG_1590.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>They are the ones reaching for the hem of His garment. They are often the ones who cry out, “Rapha! Healer! Please Be here.” They can often be the ones who catch glimpses of God so clearly. In suffering Christ is there. At the toilet bowl when all else fades into the background. In the bed when pain is so great they are curled into a ball. On their knees begging for understanding when a scary new symptom surfaces. Stopping to breathe Yahweh - in and out. God is in the breath. God IS the breath. God is in the next right thing. God is suffering alongside. God comforts in strange ways. Mystery unfolds. Pain sufferers tend to have a tentative grasp with mystery. God speaks quietly. God holds and sometimes he even heals … though not often in the way we think. Despite that God IS. We are Imago Dei. We, though terribly broken and often in confused pain, are also beautiful precious vessels of unique BEING. It may not always be the answers we want but it’s the answer that IS. It’s that moment on the Chosen (season three) when the bleeding woman reaches so desperately for the hem of Jesus garment. It’s when he turns and asks her to speak for herself so he can acknowledge her and claim her as daughter. It’s the image of that story that mirrors the biblical account and shows the desperation and beauty of being SEEN in all humiliation, isolation, misunderstanding, misery and pain. We are not alone. Even in suffering. Don’t lose hope. </p><p><br /></p><p><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjomE7aZPtCUgcBsUNN_kmMqmCgOxf_x5gXTc8XlNwhTdX-xNAW2Z4kl1QbRc-TPFp1giXAaYvW5HAPrHNNGobaOlOc0d3w2CeEID5ksqnoQLoXR9D8rlER-eXAxOxNEVESNUMeyrwGMB_lVB0FINlnM7ezrnt5mzpJoIy-Or1_2NwCBI96iQtFuYqrGpGi/s1600/IMG_0641.png" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 238); color: #0000ee; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline;" width="161" /></p><p>Song choice : hallelujah Even Here - Lydia Laird: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc-WPCQs6RI" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc-WPCQs6RI</a> </p><p>If anything take the song below from this post:</p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s6qN8PMKGcY?si=b5we9wxKP2H6u0vu" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>I adore this song!: Mother to A Saviour and King (obviously I’m not Mary but the tone of this song - the searching/ seeking/ choosing to still believe and follow/ being Known… that’s relatable. I also find it incredibly beautiful and vulnerable and my eyes fill up each time I watch her singing in that stunning orange dress in nature to God.)<a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=s6qN8PMKGcY" target="_blank">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=s6qN8PMKGcY</a> </p><p>Bonus: the most touching commercial I’ve seen in a long time: <a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xnZGEUA4oBk">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xnZGEUA4oBk</a></p><p>Post script: when my husband was running my healing bath I asked him to put on my Spotify playlist called When I Can’t Love Myself … he started chuckling and responded, “yes my enneagram Four.” And then I realized yea I guess that could come across as having a flair for the dramatic … I just call it normal - it sounded like the right title at the time ! Ha ha </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-89509559597931149282023-11-06T10:22:00.005-08:002023-11-06T20:19:47.851-08:00Whatever Is Good<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0eIg8lYfKtyLLCj2on1Yl9HKWhqh3QgHDJhk75lG-38uypNLQO-w_2OyelL5nrghhgVQ86zwmHeFq9ya8KCs3dNml7X0kl-aEBXt8ir4Asv3TOe82A3DOMIyGOuQQqcthdjN2qfA7D8g2_NWKBXpubp5LFDGwra7msAsB3_OLBqZYoXPN-RWuzOrI3WFC/s4032/IMG_0074.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0eIg8lYfKtyLLCj2on1Yl9HKWhqh3QgHDJhk75lG-38uypNLQO-w_2OyelL5nrghhgVQ86zwmHeFq9ya8KCs3dNml7X0kl-aEBXt8ir4Asv3TOe82A3DOMIyGOuQQqcthdjN2qfA7D8g2_NWKBXpubp5LFDGwra7msAsB3_OLBqZYoXPN-RWuzOrI3WFC/s320/IMG_0074.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Be still and KNOW...</p><p>The pattern of fringes hanging off the table linen caught my eye. The diamond shapes were in close symmetry despite the cloth being washed numerous times already. Rainbow reflections from the sunlit crystals hanging from my windows danced over the patterns. My eyes traced the swirls imprinted above the fringe. It was not until much later that I realized I was simply absorbed in the moment. I wasn't thinking of what I needed to do, who needed my attention, or who I felt I should be. I just WAS. My heart was encompassed in stillness. I felt this unexplainable peace (that surpasses all understanding) and an indwelling of gratitude. I was immersed in a simple Holy Hallelujah. I KNEW deep down that I was more than I seemed to be. I was in Imago Dei - BEING God's Image. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_H4VIWuq8ABv_lyEJQ3qM4UK9Scq9Yj16Kr2Sj-z1FDVKkvK88GhOlMdp-soktdXeA-hOAUm0rCIiKizsoDSLH1YVWdXDQpIPtANZmUaqoBW5fKWLookuAstYxbgjsq7V-g-LeNdpf7U-7w0Wwhd75rGjtaV5hcMV-3Zabq7EWMInC2XeCORGF10XaQT/s4032/IMG_0724.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_H4VIWuq8ABv_lyEJQ3qM4UK9Scq9Yj16Kr2Sj-z1FDVKkvK88GhOlMdp-soktdXeA-hOAUm0rCIiKizsoDSLH1YVWdXDQpIPtANZmUaqoBW5fKWLookuAstYxbgjsq7V-g-LeNdpf7U-7w0Wwhd75rGjtaV5hcMV-3Zabq7EWMInC2XeCORGF10XaQT/s320/IMG_0724.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Each one of us is made in the Image of God, but it's easy to forget to REST into this fact. It feels more like a validation of our own being when we are "doing." Not to say that doing is wrong. Doing is beautiful to activate in our human form. But doing is secondary to being KNOWN and KNOWING. Ask anyone in love (not just lust) if this is true. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEmZOFb0IG2xQTTNeC7NuciGE-6lka6ErQFRaepF_e4soJaKJB4TuWDLz4BaOtRIJcDgFbxz1QV09FZ3EnZjy33L6ARdNkUxkvD5yroPiw_eqzoWqtV90wmHn1B9ysDr6TvhhtKcK43bmwLHPv6SaSHDbNLrJTFF7-juT_Wh8AFGVaKbtJx6ki8n4BAig/s4032/IMG_0079.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEmZOFb0IG2xQTTNeC7NuciGE-6lka6ErQFRaepF_e4soJaKJB4TuWDLz4BaOtRIJcDgFbxz1QV09FZ3EnZjy33L6ARdNkUxkvD5yroPiw_eqzoWqtV90wmHn1B9ysDr6TvhhtKcK43bmwLHPv6SaSHDbNLrJTFF7-juT_Wh8AFGVaKbtJx6ki8n4BAig/s320/IMG_0079.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Taste and see...</p><p>It used to be odd to me that the descriptor of taste is used to see that the Lord is good. Taste? Really? Taste invites most of our senses to be present. Taste is a physical knowing and a beautiful contemplative moment (if it is Go(o)d.) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5yvK5SVt0iXsLlfIkzgJPd4Ls2YAmhFoHgyHtnSVXIAwZazCebgiqh8e_hKTIbjenXu0DPV_MrNVgr2scJ6aquDRRcsUufk-nUUtuYcDm7VQxViicjgAj0NimcE0cR6W7yUKKRr2wmBFXx7RUnwy4jYnqlPIAsCzij5mQccbWnL9AMya4pki3k2X6NDs/s4032/IMG_0290.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5yvK5SVt0iXsLlfIkzgJPd4Ls2YAmhFoHgyHtnSVXIAwZazCebgiqh8e_hKTIbjenXu0DPV_MrNVgr2scJ6aquDRRcsUufk-nUUtuYcDm7VQxViicjgAj0NimcE0cR6W7yUKKRr2wmBFXx7RUnwy4jYnqlPIAsCzij5mQccbWnL9AMya4pki3k2X6NDs/s320/IMG_0290.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>An interesting product of secret prayer (not shared) is that there is no one to witness the goodness of God. This communion instead becomes a private, sacred dance. It's a giving and receiving in a profoundly personal way that can not be fully explained outside of the moment. Much akin to the purely erotic (and not the profaned Porneia that Eros is often mistaken for) that symbolizes the joyful union of creation. Private prayer cannot be bragged upon, inflated with ego, disguised as gossip, or made to get a point across. I often wondered why Jesus was often described as "going into a quiet place" just as much as he was described as helping others. I sit in this similar contemplation and the mystical understanding underpins my confusion.</p><p>Private prayer is the being still to KNOW. It is edifying, gratitude filling, and often is both comforting and can lead to suffering. Yet, this is the kind of suffering that involves the growth of self. The falling off of old ways of ego that are not good for the self but are strangely addicting. It's the refinement of burning ashes before the Phoenix rising. This beloved mirror shows more of what we ARE instead of simple personhood. This mirror is Divine. This mirror is Imago Dei. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kHTHahAZfTIt5Z4mxU_2-ScN37N4Vd8QnKMaA9vGSbEcQpbKlO3sVJYP9YfHCjlZBTS19W0nVTjbGNcRqwREEbhK2PFggQSlg3tzOedM9M4A5VJxCL2J_JRgEYQjDXJUlO3qsMRjX4kzEnyvUX4y7Z55loebjR95iGX1vjVKTZoOi2IUV82YVJxx42K9/s4032/IMG_0008.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kHTHahAZfTIt5Z4mxU_2-ScN37N4Vd8QnKMaA9vGSbEcQpbKlO3sVJYP9YfHCjlZBTS19W0nVTjbGNcRqwREEbhK2PFggQSlg3tzOedM9M4A5VJxCL2J_JRgEYQjDXJUlO3qsMRjX4kzEnyvUX4y7Z55loebjR95iGX1vjVKTZoOi2IUV82YVJxx42K9/s320/IMG_0008.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Synchronicity is no longer coincidence. The fabric of existence begins to be seen on a micro level of divine threads of colours too numerous to mention. Each tiny thread has the choice and potential to walk closer to the larger Divine cohesion in a solid piece of more... or to a frayed, tattered version smaller, less muchier inclusion of that Divine. Deep down most of us want to be the whole vibrant thread but often instead, we choose to be frayed by our own doing.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVH9y9xHKbEoAtasI5deHwVKV858bDDlMkY86N0RkLGEHczt7v984682jm95a8zSExDpXIyooCao6snzQbkHAj6WozovXEbLN9p6GWqINRlI0h0wdxj4tZZ5aKsfrhNneEagofnx4QasC1ZAYw-H5C8ohWRPLg4305YhRkgp2UjW4FT-qJJuqD62AbT2u/s4032/IMG_0077.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVH9y9xHKbEoAtasI5deHwVKV858bDDlMkY86N0RkLGEHczt7v984682jm95a8zSExDpXIyooCao6snzQbkHAj6WozovXEbLN9p6GWqINRlI0h0wdxj4tZZ5aKsfrhNneEagofnx4QasC1ZAYw-H5C8ohWRPLg4305YhRkgp2UjW4FT-qJJuqD62AbT2u/s320/IMG_0077.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Is it good? Is it noble? Is it right? Is it pure? Is it lovely? Is it admirable? Is it excellent and praiseworthy?</p><p>When the thoughts and actions we have are most of the above descriptors, an odd Presence of peace is within. That Presence is always accessible yet not often accessed. It is a JUST MERCY. A Grace freely given but often not taken.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLL51Dz9hA4DeRti08N_xZKe4jLhBpxzHi4bZL0zYpUEah7QCfigUx_628iIY1iksf_g7VN9uBzJd9seBfx6UjjpyLbdd-fixR-iq0Ow6KcZAt2eYJ0M91lii2f4CrE3VL5MTOkvOUi8-Wa_fSGMKZYQXLqlsUw3EdaMP4MRxyV9kQLvxegBGDeAAx5Dly/s4032/IMG_0080.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLL51Dz9hA4DeRti08N_xZKe4jLhBpxzHi4bZL0zYpUEah7QCfigUx_628iIY1iksf_g7VN9uBzJd9seBfx6UjjpyLbdd-fixR-iq0Ow6KcZAt2eYJ0M91lii2f4CrE3VL5MTOkvOUi8-Wa_fSGMKZYQXLqlsUw3EdaMP4MRxyV9kQLvxegBGDeAAx5Dly/s320/IMG_0080.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>It seems that the path of least resistance is to focus on the bad, the ugly, the injustice, the profane, the wrong, the disgusting...or if not blatantly focusing on these things, to instead bury ourselves in busyness to avoid. Instead of RUNNING to ALL THAT IS GOOD. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGoU944_Jd-W4KbS-GbuXPY48BuHXuUw4dFIVSgmbEd1g4Q39ohQNp9nCWUjsLjr92kWSsF8JDYh4bq5SbUjirioOHcZSIWPmRMALArxQ9cdbNbOxudDVyeWeXpNJl3KVKPyx2IoYOi9l7bimX4g_9W7J6GBI3wip-ksH9ccMAkfoEcwF2SNzVdnCx5MKf/s4032/IMG_0368.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGoU944_Jd-W4KbS-GbuXPY48BuHXuUw4dFIVSgmbEd1g4Q39ohQNp9nCWUjsLjr92kWSsF8JDYh4bq5SbUjirioOHcZSIWPmRMALArxQ9cdbNbOxudDVyeWeXpNJl3KVKPyx2IoYOi9l7bimX4g_9W7J6GBI3wip-ksH9ccMAkfoEcwF2SNzVdnCx5MKf/s320/IMG_0368.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Advocacy is good but not if it is done while also trying to rip other threads in the tapestry. Action is good but not if we are not recognizing the true mirror of Being first. Being informed can be a part of growing intellect but without Love, without compassion, it's just another empty state of mind. Beauty can be corrupted but why do we run from true Beauty? Why are we not eating the sunrise with our eyes or soaking up the sunset into our souls? Each day we are given little mercies in the guise of Beauty. There is no economic status, personality type, religion, family of origin, sexuality or any other set aside descriptor required to look at a blade of grass or a flake of snow and SEE a moment of intricacy...a gift shared for everyone. ( For those who can’t see there is a gift to feel - or another type of Knowing given.) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZb2POUm9TlEhTop-IqwKkUK_dYzQ3guZY3X0rfFNa6cPtCmV0siCRjz0cM0cL0rAOWeXt4w60YISJ97Jac5Uk2PxxoZZHnrYNIQdOLRYuIQ6fthXWA6lVb9PGxbA9JRfhPfkd1ALIlYXgaZY5vjK_WMkhN110LGf4Tf_M6CclG7JFCcmbwalVM7a9CT0m/s4032/IMG_0081.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZb2POUm9TlEhTop-IqwKkUK_dYzQ3guZY3X0rfFNa6cPtCmV0siCRjz0cM0cL0rAOWeXt4w60YISJ97Jac5Uk2PxxoZZHnrYNIQdOLRYuIQ6fthXWA6lVb9PGxbA9JRfhPfkd1ALIlYXgaZY5vjK_WMkhN110LGf4Tf_M6CclG7JFCcmbwalVM7a9CT0m/s320/IMG_0081.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>A relationship is with a noun, a personhood, not a verb. Relationships must be put before issues. Whatever is good...think on these things. But seeing Good is almost an exercise in the paradox. It's a trained existence (ironic.) Mystical and practical blend. Becoming is a dance of the BOTH/ AND of life.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdsUKFaV7tk8Xklz1yh6BEE1L-FJn-JW21xdd9CVQrj_JvlBuwFzHw9tsvMd-2hMv5U7V6CXsr7Xzx6yeQjBoRaERYcesgsFVEQd5LxjB8IDApdAKoqNpZewLJfOMtrG3kJiUajOk6JYepGzbt7OF8hkc8dNxh0ry4iFaE6WIhrXMioWmvIUOXwESKFEOD/s4032/IMG_0455.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdsUKFaV7tk8Xklz1yh6BEE1L-FJn-JW21xdd9CVQrj_JvlBuwFzHw9tsvMd-2hMv5U7V6CXsr7Xzx6yeQjBoRaERYcesgsFVEQd5LxjB8IDApdAKoqNpZewLJfOMtrG3kJiUajOk6JYepGzbt7OF8hkc8dNxh0ry4iFaE6WIhrXMioWmvIUOXwESKFEOD/s320/IMG_0455.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Our senses must become attuned. Often, when I think I am misunderstood, an outlier, seen as not welcome to most in my home town, or frustrated at my own daily incapability, I am in an adventure of missing the mark. Even if each of these statements own some truth at times, they are not THE Truth. I am missing the mark of Beauty. I am missing the true mirror. I am forgetting to LISTEN. When I retreat to contemplation an interesting path opens up. That path can wind through months of both agony of refinement and the joy of becoming. Books I never knew I needed show up with truths that soul sear. Seers of music, people and experience join the journey and point upwards. If I listen, I suddenly am a person who is BEING THROUGH the OTHER. Imago Dei. God THROUGH the tapestry of BEING. God encompassed in the threads woven into existence.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3Vlku58MDNtG5NfUz_GptwrgsJMVjtSHzkFEdcBU6iOnYKoEI0NnUTaP2Ngs_13a7AY8gFxxb5aiykliuGroFDqNY4M2fw0K3oqZ4g37IX9owOy6yOihMNZCTb7A8I42F94l3Zae6JXjGuG1rAl1TuHdvdxGiJNoJ0aDENVFmJcfXRqbKsqeUpOqPMki/s3859/IMG_0565.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2339" data-original-width="3859" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-3Vlku58MDNtG5NfUz_GptwrgsJMVjtSHzkFEdcBU6iOnYKoEI0NnUTaP2Ngs_13a7AY8gFxxb5aiykliuGroFDqNY4M2fw0K3oqZ4g37IX9owOy6yOihMNZCTb7A8I42F94l3Zae6JXjGuG1rAl1TuHdvdxGiJNoJ0aDENVFmJcfXRqbKsqeUpOqPMki/s320/IMG_0565.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Whatever is GOOD. Think on these things.</p><p><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/2971383103866151443/9059325754851725233#" style="caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img alt="" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPm0pWZsrDVwlXPDu8E2pSfjtwp-Z_WV2C1hQHl-EvlZw9KgmKAQh-vknT9QIruE0eGd3noeyE8OK_VhNBKYEmRnqiq41fYdPvsdWJURgLpYKEIK5PMy2ixwC8vnsgeuLRm_hRcucuzcSXPtbIm78JPtCL1FWnOrkaIdTqBrAeb3pJuUi530spxoWDUg=w200-h128" width="200" /></a></p><p>Song choices: To Know Me- Lauren Diagle ( <a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cWQGJAhjFRc">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cWQGJAhjFRc</a> ) Such a gorgeous song! Moved me to a teary state 💝🥹</p><p>Thank God I Do- Lauren Diagle ( <a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wfR6XLXRNy0">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wfR6XLXRNy0</a> ) </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> (Verses loosely quoted in this post come from: Psalms 46:10, Genesis 1:27, Genesis 1:31, Romans 1:25-28, Psalm 34:8, Phillipians 4:8-10, Mark 6:31, Luke 5:16, Matthew 1:35-39, Malachi 3:2-3, 1 Corinthians 13:1, Job 29:18, Matthew 11:28, John 20: 21- 22. Romans 15:13)</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-90593257548517252332023-06-06T10:59:00.025-07:002023-11-06T10:06:49.500-08:00Recognized and Valued BECAUSE of One of my Worst Moments<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgf38696ZIOQeFUm0UZrvNiJBKSmJExPrGcamXiVvoUeu1YnExfhHCr3wa2Xw3gUQgYsUN6KMPyEJvG3_cLQy9fpMhHvGs_8Y_neLpwSMdAElHUNvRcou0AR10C0KReMER5nmr46fMK5E3OyLG22ZzD2Wi9DA3A1MQ4pUflyNKU1rTybU84_L3gwhBA/s4032/5BF1D33F-22DA-4676-9F70-5B1F3D6B1E7A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgf38696ZIOQeFUm0UZrvNiJBKSmJExPrGcamXiVvoUeu1YnExfhHCr3wa2Xw3gUQgYsUN6KMPyEJvG3_cLQy9fpMhHvGs_8Y_neLpwSMdAElHUNvRcou0AR10C0KReMER5nmr46fMK5E3OyLG22ZzD2Wi9DA3A1MQ4pUflyNKU1rTybU84_L3gwhBA/s320/5BF1D33F-22DA-4676-9F70-5B1F3D6B1E7A.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> As I walked out the door I heard, "Wait!! I think I know you and I feel like it's significant!" She grabbed the door and I recognized her too but did not know why. We exchanged names but neither of us recognized the other. She tried again, "If it helps I teach nursing at the local college and have been a nurse for years."<p></p><p>"Ooooohhhhhh," I sighed, "If you worked about 15 ish years ago I practically lived at the hospital."</p><p>"Really? It must be that...but I feel like..."</p><p>And suddenly a memory came to me and I asked, "Wait. You wouldn't happen to be the nurse that held me?" And she finished my sentence, "In the hallway on the floor?" </p><p>Before I knew what was happening she started crying and I was swept up into her arms, "You changed my nursing career! You impacted my life so fully! You left me a note and flowers stating how important that moment was to you. For years I thought of you and have used you as an example of how to follow your heart in nursing. I wasn't sure if I was crossing a line..but I felt so strongly that you needed me but I was unsure even after...and then the next day your flowers and note came to the anonymous nurse who held you...and I cried."</p><p>I was still being held by her through this whole dialogue as she was occasionally swiping her tears...to the point that I was tear filled from her expression. I have a terrible memory so it surprised me that I even thought to mention it. It has been so bad lately that I have simply given up on trying to salvage memories and instead I have prayed, "Please in the moment help me to remember what is important to other people or what is significant to share from things I should know." I'm so grateful this moment (however humiliating it was to me at the time) came to me.</p><p>"Thank you for following your heart," I sincerely stated, "I thought I was dying that night. I was so depleted from years upon years of being on IV and pain meds through horrible attacks in my abdomen and bad rashes and pain. I was constantly at the hospital and most nurses after awhile treated me poorly and attributed it to hysteria or anxiety but I could not make up the pain. The pain triggered the anxiety. Not the other way around. Years later I was diagnosed by a natural health practioneer with long term Lymes Disease (though not acknowledged by public health), Fibromyalgia from my former Doctor, multiple cycle diseases (PCOS, Andenomyosis, Endometriosis, Chronic low ferritin and Anemia) and finally Celiac. That night was my final straw because I was strung out on fentonyal (which I hated as it made me so loopy) and had been puking my guts out to the point of a little bit of blood coming out plus sitting on the toilet. I was so exhausted and desperate that I took my IV with me out into the hallway, slid down the wall and started bawling...and there you were, with your arms around me and I felt like it was an angel. Later I was appalled at my desperate drugged out behavior but you stuck with me. You gave me hope. You also changed my perspective slightly on nurses."</p><p>She gave me another hug and then her mother came around the corner, "MOM!! this is the girl! The girl that left me that note that changed my nursing career!" I recognized her mom too and she smiled, "Hi Kmarie (insert real name) I remember you. I worked as a receptionist at the hospital for years."</p><p>A part of myself shrunk inside. Of course the previous receptionist remembers me by name! I did not recall hers but she stated it and it was immediately familiar. I almost can't believe that was my life. Most of the time, if my health is brought up with new friends, it almost feels like I am lying. Because even though I struggle with energy and pain...I learned how to mostly manage my conditions to a degree. The pain attacks stopped exactly three years after my last taste of gluten. I still get them lightly if I accidently get glutened but it is not near the same as that terrible 24-48 hours of a tight rubber band wrapped around my abdomen to the point that I could not even have a sip of water for a full day. It was absolutely hell on earth sometimes. To hear that I impacted someone in one of my worst moments was both validating and jarring.</p><p>I was at my worst on that hospital floor. I am a germaphobe by nature so the fact that I was even sitting on the Emergency room floor says something. I also am not naturally a person who likes to pubicly share my pain or be recognized while I am in a state of duress...so that fact that I was out of my room also shows my desperation. I was stinky. I was pale and shaky. I was out of it from the drugs coursing through my veins ( that did nothing to touch the pain by the way but only made time feel both longer and shorter which made everything more confusing.) I was completely vulnerable and weak...and when I arrived at the hospital one of the nurses gave me the "Oh it's you again" look and treated me with cold contempt. </p><p>So for this nurse to say I changed her at that moment??? That truly testifies to me that sometimes when we are at our weakest, God is there to use us regardless. We are still a worthy vessel. We can still impact lives. We can still be given a different type of strength.</p><p>In all honesty, this is a tough story to tell. I was embarrassed to even show up with flowers and a card that was addressed "To the nurse on call Thursday night and the one who held me." I felt that the entire staff at the hospital was mocking me almost. I felt foolish but something in my spirit told me I needed to be acknowledge that beauty. I was taught by my Grandma, who lived in and out of the hospital with Colitis and a bowel pouch and then cancer, to treat those who help with extreme gratitude. She taught me to leave flowers for my Pharmacist, Notes for my Doctor, Christmas gifts for those who really helped me get through tough times... It was not until one of my friends was shocked that I did these things that I realized many people do not do this. And then I felt silly again.</p><p>I was between 20 and 30 when this event happened. I will be forty this year. I wish I could go back to my younger self and say, "You are legitimate in your pain. You WILL figure some of this out. You will suffer and continue to suffer with depression due to pain and energy on and off through the years. However, you will find supporters. You will find information. You will find some answers and some triggers. And believe it or not, you will not visit a hospital (besides blood tests and breaking your foot) for NINE years! You will avoid them like the plague instead of running to them! And you will find some angels on earth...</p><p>I wasn't going to the event where I met this nurse last week. I was not feeling well (again.) With chronic illness I pick my battles. My son specifically asked me to please try to be with my family...so I went. I was making a hasty exit to go lay down when this lady ran to me and held open the door as I was trying to escape. I didn't feel like talking. Yet, I have often found that in my weakest, Spirit shows up. Or that sometimes when I don't feel I have much to give, Spirit is still given. Or that sometimes someone needs me, even when I do not feel like showing up, and if I force myself to BE present, something magical happens.</p><p>Invisible Chronic illness is a tricky thing. I don't like to talk about it anymore yet it is still a huge (mostly secret) part of my life. I look like I am in the prime of health most days, besides being extremely pale for the native blood I have, but with a ferritin of two and a blood saturation of 0.13, that is to be expected. I went through a huge phase in my late twenties when I needed to blog about health constantly to work through the diagnosis process. I feel that is legitimate. Just like I feel this phase of rarely speaking about it is legitimate too. But I am grateful for a few lessons from my weakness.</p><p>1. If I have hidden things to deal with, it's easier for me to remember that everyone else has secret struggles. When I am dealing with someone I try to recall this fact.</p><p>2. In our weakness, Spirit shows up. A verse that has always been of great comfort to me has been, "Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven...and blessed are those that mourn for they shall be comforted." There are silver linings in struggle too.</p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">3. Sometimes weakness allows another persons strength to shine. Sometimes our weaker moments can also later be turned into a strength.</p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">I am not glamorizing illness. As I stated, I go through depression dealing with it on a regular basis. I find it tough not to compare. It’s hard for me not to wish I was only tired from a busy life or a bad night and not blood tired ( which sleep does not much for). Yet, I also don’t want to be a complainer or known for “ being tired.” It’s a state that I just live with. Some days it beats me, other days I try to befriend my own Being. I’m this fallen world, it is what it is… but I’m still SEEN. </p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">My family and I love to watch The Chosen series ( free on YouTube or the App) about the life of Jesus and his disciples. Even if one doesn’t subscribe to the faith, I would still recommend it for its historical accuracy, storylines, and beautiful sets and costumes. Anyway, in season three there is a story of the bleeding woman who I’ve related to since puberty with my extremely heavy cycles. This woman is ostracized from her family in a time where being alone as a woman is dangerous. She is culturally considered “ unclean” due to the laws. She is anemic and exhausted from bleeding for years. As a desperate attempt she touches the hem of Jesus garment as he’s walking through a crowd on his way to visit a dying sick little girl. Jesus has an excuse to be in a hurry. (The little girl dies but he revives her later.) Instead the lady is immediately healed and Jesus stops and asks “Who touched me?” He knew, but he was giving her a chance to be SEEN and for her to use her own voice. No one, especially a man, would deem her worthy to speak to. Then he calls her “daughter.” This is not creepy but significant because her own family would not claim her due to her disease. She was unclaimed and thus, unprotected. By stating this protective title, Jesus was stating in essence “You are seen. You are worthy. You are protected. You are healed.” </p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">Maybe it’s ok to be seen and recognized and remembered for one of my worst moments?</p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">I get bleary eyed each time I read that story but seeing it on screen ... I wept. I may not be healed in a huge way, but if I’m honest, I have small ways of healing. I have moments to be grateful for. I’m protected. I have loved ones. I’m valued in some of my communities. I have much more than this woman. But what we have in common is that we are SEEN in what we perceive as our wretchedness… when we are heavily bleeding and hurting and so so so tired… and we are still loved. </p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;">May it be so. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwnDqM6L2EcDPDloRoRc0rd-6QvPpIfoZmB121-mXa-6hRB3P5P2TGh72USobXdkWR_YVcEk6AGIfFx6S4Z46i7ulQJBrWZRsEfGkceCRrSn5uXzMaoFHlT_OFqIoSIMFoi11Phg3agM72ZkK2VK_DAT0UKrbnqfxByrNyPau7fu5hKDad03NNiyI0w/s1280/A9995C16-C804-41BD-A422-E102E2BA2B80.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKwnDqM6L2EcDPDloRoRc0rd-6QvPpIfoZmB121-mXa-6hRB3P5P2TGh72USobXdkWR_YVcEk6AGIfFx6S4Z46i7ulQJBrWZRsEfGkceCRrSn5uXzMaoFHlT_OFqIoSIMFoi11Phg3agM72ZkK2VK_DAT0UKrbnqfxByrNyPau7fu5hKDad03NNiyI0w/s320/A9995C16-C804-41BD-A422-E102E2BA2B80.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); color: #5856d6; font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-size-adjust: auto;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/2971383103866151443/9059325754851725233#" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img alt="" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPm0pWZsrDVwlXPDu8E2pSfjtwp-Z_WV2C1hQHl-EvlZw9KgmKAQh-vknT9QIruE0eGd3noeyE8OK_VhNBKYEmRnqiq41fYdPvsdWJURgLpYKEIK5PMy2ixwC8vnsgeuLRm_hRcucuzcSXPtbIm78JPtCL1FWnOrkaIdTqBrAeb3pJuUi530spxoWDUg=w200-h128" width="200" /></a></p><p><br /></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); clear: both; color: #5856d6; font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); clear: both; color: #5856d6; font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;">Song Choice Woman at the Well (which is a different biblical story about a woman being SEEN):</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); clear: both; color: #5856d6; font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVfI1b2aK64" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JVfI1b2aK64</a></div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(88, 86, 214); clear: both; color: #5856d6; font-family: Times; font-variant-ligatures: normal; text-align: center; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-61985636467573409262023-03-28T10:58:00.009-07:002023-03-29T17:39:56.067-07:00The Seven Homes that Built Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuQF0ZylX1z4oHra-j7G32mMa3VSLXUg0hskJnqrEtZ9gNia_kE-NDoCjZ6J9U9LTRVLnZAtRNa4VeGa3OrAiC__o_aMtEdtNhM28ulKo3lLHY77RvZk2D-IHo6tlolr97vyhEiIcnpPfMJR4QTemn_24k5-dLTm9VZjGod-HNf19xpkJO-T4Ed4DUQ/s4032/F523FC73-FE37-4499-A9FD-391913562D9A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEuQF0ZylX1z4oHra-j7G32mMa3VSLXUg0hskJnqrEtZ9gNia_kE-NDoCjZ6J9U9LTRVLnZAtRNa4VeGa3OrAiC__o_aMtEdtNhM28ulKo3lLHY77RvZk2D-IHo6tlolr97vyhEiIcnpPfMJR4QTemn_24k5-dLTm9VZjGod-HNf19xpkJO-T4Ed4DUQ/s320/F523FC73-FE37-4499-A9FD-391913562D9A.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>My husband is a carpenter. I always wanted to marry a man who could build dreams. Plus, Jesus was a carpenter, so my little girl brain thought it would be a blessed profession. Throughout his twenty years of building, I often have stated, “ Yours is a subtlety noble profession. Even in the mundanity of it, you are building safe places for people to choose how to live. You’re providing the basics. In lucky cases you’re creating. You’re creating dreams and extraordinary places. But overall you’re providing something that we all need to thrive…a home. You are also witnessing their lives in a way most professions don’t get to witness the lives of their clients. It’s an opportunity for ministry and it’s in opportunity for servitude, but it’s also an opportunity to build dreams. It’s a beautiful thing. Plus your hands are very capable at so many things… “ He laughs (and doubts me often on the hard weather days) but I believe it’s true. An honest, good carpenter is one of the worlds best professions.</p><p>Over my almost forty years on this planet, there have been many people in many homes that have shaped me. But seven stand out. These are the homes that I spent copious amounts of hours in different phases of my life. These are the places that fused my memories of heartache and dreams together. In fact I can’t think about aspects of these homes without deeply feeling gratitude. Sometimes even a tear in my eye forms or a lump in my throat forms due to the sheer beauty of the gift they gave me.</p><p>1. My paternal Grandma‘s home in British Columbia. My grandma still lives in the same home that I lived with her in over 30 years ago. Grandma‘s home was not only my home for a few years in my childhood with my parents, but it was also a place to go to every summer and as I became older each spring break. It felt like my home in every sense of the word. Most of my relatives disliked it because of the place it was in. It was a rough and tough town however that did not matter to my child like eyes full of wonder. It was the Southern facing warmth of her shag carpet smelling like sunshine. The sound of her knees cracking and her bracelets clanking as she joyfully walked down the hall to water plants. It was a beautiful castle mirror that my dad made, hung at the top of her stairs, that evoked my fairytale imagination, while the Chipmunks played on the record player beside it. It was sunny days spent smelling pine trees and all the wonders of her beautiful garden as I walked around her house over and over again. It was the feel of the concrete of her slanted driveway that I pretended was my castle. Secretly, I thought her castle was better than any other castle in the world. I still dream about that house. We designed our structure of our current home based on that home. It's standard and looks simple but it is full of memory, shared history and safe magical wonder. She is to move soon and my heart breaks for her and for myself. I keep crying whenever I think about it and generally I do not cry often.</p><p>2. Sanky was the name of my early childhood home in Saskatchewan. I only lived there on and off until I was six. The summers I spent in BC. A decade ago the home was torn down due to the fact that it was so old and poorly built. My family was poor too so we made good companions. The boardwalk was wood and I can still recall the giant sliver that I got from running barefoot upon it. However, I also can recall short little walks to the park. I can recall watching Carebears with my brother while we were sick in the tiny little bedroom. I can recall wearing my dad's headphones that were plugged into the record player and blasting Amy Grant or any of his other Christian albums. I can recall running around in the small college Library or lecture rooms while he worked and I flipped the seats up and down and up and down. It was a tiny town but I felt safe. I felt loved. I cried and cried when we moved to the town I still call home. </p><p>3. We moved into a slightly larger subsidized home on a new college campus. It was larger than our previous town but still small enough to give the feeling of cozy. Our garden plot was as big as our home plot because that is how we were expected to get by on the wage my father was paid. Oh the amount of peas and raspberries I ate in the summer! Thanks to my maternal grandmother and mother we had canned goods in the winter for a break from the copious amounts of cheap gluten breads, pastas and cereals we lived off of. ( In hindsight being sick constantly in my childhood points to my current celiac condition.) I loved the eastern living room light that flung dust mites around. Dusting was my favourite job in that home because I could look at all of my moms pretty knick knacks while blasting the Beach Boys or Judy Garland or the Beatles (no I’m not that old but I was old fashioned) whilst pretending that the dust was fairy sparkles. At that point in our lives part of my dad's job was hosting college students at our house. I can still recall the amount of laughter. That tiny home was full of games and cheer and quirky fun neighbors. We suffered. I was sick often. I can recall some darkness, but overall it was an idyllic childhood. We were quite poor but I didn’t know it fully. Because I had community. I had nature to run around freely in, just outside my door. I had a garden in the summer, and the local food cellar in the winter. I had family and church and old movies and aunts and uncles and oranges at Christmas. I felt rich often too.</p><p>4. With the help of some relatives, my father built a new home (that they still reside in) facing the west. The sunsets from that home are unbeatable. On clear days the mountains can be seen in the distance over the rolling golden fields of the prairies. I felt safe moving into that home because the walls were fully concrete. I felt rich too. I had a huge room all to myself even though the ceiling didn’t get done for seven years and I had to help pay for it myself… But until then I had a huge event poster covering the insulation that my dad brought home from one of his youth ministry gatherings. I loved attending those even though I technically wasn’t old enough to. I got to see Christian bands throughout the 90s that were famous and fun. I was able to host my friends for sleepovers almost every weekend. Friends became family. Just passed 18, my husband and I moved into the basement suite made just for us when we married young and lived off of 200 a month. In later years, when each of my children were born they would visit that house for meals, Christmas, Easter and loads of holiday times in between. Back when my cousins came to visit every summer they would have the extra gift of extended family moving in and out of the house. My grandparents lived in the side of it. We could go steal cookies from Grandma’s and eat all of her baking. The yard of half an acre was home to many trees and a small pool. My children still benefit from the gorgeous situation of that home. </p><p>5. My maternal grandparents moved a lot growing up. But each of their homes I can recall and I cherish. Each one would have a similar feeling because they made it their home. Each home would always smell like coffee percolating mixed with the aroma of fresh buns. There was always my grandmothers weathered spinning wheel plant holder that reminded me of sleeping beauty. It now sits in my home, gifted to me before her passing recently. Baking was always a standard. The house often smelled of pickling spice and cinnamon. But the home that I remember the most of theirs, besides the one my grandpa still lives in as part of my parents home, was three houses down from ours up in the Heights. My grandpa became a janitor at the same college my dad worked in and thus lived in the subsidized housing. Their garden was better than ours. After school I would run home to watch my grandparents cable TV because we weren’t allowed TV. We just watched movies. So I would run home to sit on Grandma's bed for the Care Bears or the Brady Bunch or Full house or Inspector gadget… Grandma would always come in with a plate of cookies or a bowl full of chocolate chips, marshmallows, raisins, sesame seeds and berries. I knew I was always welcome at grandma’s house and there would be food for my often hungry belly.</p><p>6. When my daughter was five months old my husband moved us up into the same heights that I had grown up in... only around the block to the east from my previous home. We ended up having the ground level home with the kitchen facing east this time and our living room facing west. We had about four boxes of belongings, an old couch, and a bed given to us by my mom. At that time I didn’t believe the friend who said, "Don’t worry, one day you will have so much stuff you won’t know what to do with it…" She was right. But when she was holding a box full of used toys given to my daughter because we had none… I didn’t fully believe her. I wondered how she could afford such toys! And how people could afford such meals! For that matter, how could people afford to share? I tried my best to share what we could, often sacrificing the decorations off my tree for the one who lost everything or the extra food portion saved or the milk money found...and it was a lesson on where treasure was truly found. It was a lesson on circumstances and boundaries. It was a lesson that only poverty can teach. Because what my husband made was just enough to cover our subsidized home bill and give us less than we needed to eat and clothe ourselves… And those years I learned how to get by. I learned how to be frugal and creative. I learned what I can do without. And what amazing things God provides when we trust. When my husband needed steel toe boots, and the 200 dollar price tag seemed enormous because it was our mortgage money, we prayed, he went to the local tilly (second hand College store) and there were steel toe boots in his size for ten dollars! There were so many moments like that, which is why I tend towards charity giving instead of garage sales ( the anonymity and less personal feeling of a shop gave me dignity.) I was the person who found what was needed with tears of relief at the second hand shop... I learned how much joy there is in life even when it seems like you don’t have much. I am so grateful for those years, even though they were some of the hardest of my life due to many factors. Budget just being one of them. Health scares. Miscarriages. Postpartum depression. Poverty. Family expectations. The tumultuous 20s. Finding oneself. Finding God. Finding lasting friendships.… All of it was very hard. But it’s shaped me to who I am today and I still have very fond memories of the youth my husband and I shared in that home. Now, I still find I have to fight the scarcity mindset and learn once again to live in provided abundance, yet when I do, miracles seem to happen.</p><p>7. When my youngest was a few months old, we moved into the house we live in today. My husband worked at a construction company who saw and felt for us I think. The boss offered my husband the home at cost. We had to get a special kind of mortgage. We switched a few years into our own but at that time we had to rely on others. I could hardly believe it when I walked up the stairs for the first time. I felt so rich. On my right was a beautiful new black fridge humming away. I had never had a new appliance before. The oven and the dishwasher sparkled. The rooms felt huge to what I was used to. The plot was gorgeous and full of potential for trees. The living room view faced south towards the fields on the school that I went to elementary in. It was only three blocks away from the home which my husband and I had previously lived in (which comforted me) and only a few blocks away from my parents house to the west. I suddenly recalled a moment in my childhood where I was playing in the elementary school on the north facing side at recess and I looked across the fields. At that point it was not developed land but just farmers fields as far as the eye could see. I remember a soft whisper of knowing; "You’re going to find a home here one day. There’s something special for you in that field. Something beyond what you could imagine. You will find home.” My children hear this story a lot because it feels providential. It felt like a prophesy of love and care at a time when I was often insecure. I was in about grade 5 and I remember feeling so perplexed. What could possibly be in that field? I pictured myself digging gold out in that field. When I would bike to the east of it where the pathway stopped I would just sit and stare wondering what could that mean? Little did I know that my home would be here. Little did I know that I would raise my children to adulthood in that field. Little did I know that I WOULD get the love story I wanted that was shaped by my obsession with 1940's films and musicals. I would learn the best lessons of my life in that field. The husband of my youth would become the husband of my middle age. That we would experience death and life together in that field. It was better than a treasure chest full of gold. Now I have a heart full of treasures.</p><p>We almost lost our home several times over the years, because we could barely afford to keep it, but I’m so glad that we were not able to move away. Over the years we have renovated it and we’re in the process of renovating it again, to make it work for our lives. This time the renovations are about community. They are about a calling and a new phase. It’s been a beautiful home full of the provision we needed to become a family.</p><p>I often feel that God knows my heart and that rootedness would be essential to my sanity. He knew that I was wired differently and needed stability to flourish and be the best version of me. My gratitude for this is beyond measure. We still have to weigh our budget carefully. But I would rather have stability and a sense of rooted belonging than all the riches in the world. Of course I would love to travel more but I am so blessed that occasionally we can travel between the three provinces that I grew up in on occasion. It can be both a hardship and a blessing to have the same people in one’s life that witnessed teenage hood or childhood or that tumultuous 20s or are searching 30s… But if they allow us room to grow and we allow them room to grow and change, something beautiful can happen. We can be a witness. We witness each other’s lives and we challenge, we encourage, we inspire. Change is part of life. It’s inevitable. So too, must we change. There’s a difference between rootedness and stagnancy. Little did I know that my field of the unknown riches would be the riches of hearth and home. When I look back on these seven homes, I see God was building so much within me, my husband, my children and our community. If anything makes me cry, it's gratitude. More than grief, I will often get choked up on gratitude. I don't deserve what I have. I hardly even earned it. It was grace given. It was prayers of my heart answered in such unexpected ways. Poverty is tough and I do not glamourize it, but like anything in life, there CAN be lessons learned and beauty that rises from the ashes. For us, it taught trust, prayer, sharing despite, balance, and the true joy of simplicity. </p><p>When our family works on our home together on top of work and school and life, because we can not afford to pay another, we learn so much! We fight too at times, but we share in the glorious experience of building dreams. The electrical my son learned taught caution in power. The sanding and constant priming taught me patience and I also learned that just because I’ve never burnt wood designs before doesn’t mean I shouldn’t even try! Drilling screws and pounding nails taught my daughter precision and the gift of strength. Holding the light while my husband hooked up the plumbing in the lower level ceiling taught my youngest the sacredness of two and the crucial element light brings to any situation. We are not just building a home. We are building life. We are learning that what happens in the womb of secrecy will eventually expand into a life giving dream. We are learning that faith is often unspoken but that it is an aspect of All that IS. We see God in the mundane and our belief is stronger because in the practical we see beyond. </p><p>All of these homes were not magazine worthy, or even sometimes up to code! They were all humble and almost all of them were the shape of a rectangle box. But yet each one held a richness I was formed in. A gratitude that cannot be replaced or fully expressed. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HtTz_z6FDAtw76ytBj3JKEiRhvzKmyFFs_DmTMO-zKGMWL97xR6VuqiNtObupvi_F1EDZv4HAGRugJp4VNnQ1RSqQzNYG8Li-yOcWw379BBtnZwJpwh5HJpOciy4ZWSPcSD7bPFSjKjkFQqwkTdqqsokdeIxsBJ9MwqMtx-bLYqJYawxrIgN2V6x2Q/s2100/2032E2C0-7997-467C-8F6E-7F353C4ECF43.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2100" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HtTz_z6FDAtw76ytBj3JKEiRhvzKmyFFs_DmTMO-zKGMWL97xR6VuqiNtObupvi_F1EDZv4HAGRugJp4VNnQ1RSqQzNYG8Li-yOcWw379BBtnZwJpwh5HJpOciy4ZWSPcSD7bPFSjKjkFQqwkTdqqsokdeIxsBJ9MwqMtx-bLYqJYawxrIgN2V6x2Q/s320/2032E2C0-7997-467C-8F6E-7F353C4ECF43.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPm0pWZsrDVwlXPDu8E2pSfjtwp-Z_WV2C1hQHl-EvlZw9KgmKAQh-vknT9QIruE0eGd3noeyE8OK_VhNBKYEmRnqiq41fYdPvsdWJURgLpYKEIK5PMy2ixwC8vnsgeuLRm_hRcucuzcSXPtbIm78JPtCL1FWnOrkaIdTqBrAeb3pJuUi530spxoWDUg=w200-h128" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Song choice: the House thatBuilt Me- Miranda Lambert ( and Alan Jackson’s Home <a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VAZZrj4LWA4">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VAZZrj4LWA4</a> </p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DQYNM6SjD_o" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-88032578028595116072023-02-06T16:02:00.003-08:002023-02-07T08:04:40.035-08:00Making ROOM off of social media; The Beauty of BEING<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1B87wvNUiDBNoTp6Yo7BnWj0Gt3XklT068rUkc8xn1gA_Fmf2Lx80p7XlRvg2upb6IHN6jhSatUVZ6gRT6xnMy8fB6z-dcJrp2YO-yva4IM9jgIM6UBfyJEoL8X7oSRt-nQznKONCP1YVYKS1utS-TaxP7F3owz8A0T2R3pDRe4UnrJ5UhEXkAlULA/s1600/5E2F91BA-EAB5-4D2C-B224-64A4B6C3353F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="721" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1B87wvNUiDBNoTp6Yo7BnWj0Gt3XklT068rUkc8xn1gA_Fmf2Lx80p7XlRvg2upb6IHN6jhSatUVZ6gRT6xnMy8fB6z-dcJrp2YO-yva4IM9jgIM6UBfyJEoL8X7oSRt-nQznKONCP1YVYKS1utS-TaxP7F3owz8A0T2R3pDRe4UnrJ5UhEXkAlULA/s320/5E2F91BA-EAB5-4D2C-B224-64A4B6C3353F.jpeg" width="144" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The latest email from Sarah Clarkson, a favorite author of mine, stated, "My soul has been tired and harried. I knew it and tried to give myself space and grace for renewal. But I also understood that I needed to create some structure or healing for myself too. I've been off of social media because of that since Christmas Day. For the first couple of weeks or so, I felt a little disjointed at the lack of dramatic benefits in my life from my fast from social media. But three, then four weeks in, I realized that my mind really was slowing. There was a different pace to my thoughts. I found myself capable of inwardness and recollection that has been really difficult to me for many months... I'm grateful for the space I've gained in being away from social media. It's a tangled world and there's a tension there as I miss the friendships and beauty and connection of that space. I'm trying to think well, pray well about what it looks like to engage in a creative, sustainable way. I'm curious how you think about these online worlds, this tension between connection and quiet. I'm examining that much in myself these days. But also savoring the hush of this break."</p><p>My answer to Sarah's question is specific to me, but I am a firm believer that it could be beneficial for probably 80 percent of the population. I also know of others who have a moderated version of social media engagement. They go on for their business for an hour each day, or if not in business, they only allow for a timed check in once a week. Even that feels a bit harried. My answer? Two years ago around this date, I cold turkey quit. My ability to concentrate, feel peace, savour the good life, give my time to friends via text, in my home, or enjoy books, have time for renos, schooling my kids, taking time with my husband etc. all have improved drastically. The beautiful changes in my life are directly in association to how long I have been off of social media.</p><p>I miss it sometimes truthfully. Mostly the inspirational part, but I have found myself looking in my direct vision, to the people I love, and also inward for wonder and inspiration. This method is a slow drip of inspiration in comparison to a deluge, but it suits. It took the first year off to learn to sit in boredom again. Two years off, and I realize I am coming home to parts of myself that were alive as a teenager in the nineties. I actually often forget there is an entire new way of Being. When I see the rare advertisement somewhere I will often wonder, "How did they get those personal pictures of those people's lives?" Then I am jarred with the realization of the otherworld online. Where I am not. Where my opinions no longer need to be stated or circulated. Where the quick hits no longer form who I am. I call it the 'otherworld' because it is another form of living- in imagination, thought and mind. It's not all bad, but it's a new frontier, and until it learns to be more civilized, boundaried, and less self-involved, I am not fully interested. Oh there is beauty too. Of course there is! Wherever there is humanity there WILL be beauty. But I think I can find that in other ways. I am compelled by love to choose LOVE in engagement instead of from a distance. There is a difference of people knowing of what I do and being KNOWN and vice versa. </p><p>I miss being involved sometimes. I do miss the convenience of finding book recommendations or quick hit health tips or home decor looks. I can still find those things but it's slower, and yes sometimes even a little desperate, but eventually the right book comes, or a person hooks me up with new health information, or my home ideas come from myself entirely or my personal surroundings. It took months, but I now am involved in life in an entirely old, but new way. Walks are uninterrupted, talks are slow, and my scheduling is flexible. I can make room for the people who need or ask it of me. I always loved that Christmas song, "Let every heart, prepare him room...and heaven and nature sing..." There is a reason this song is titled "Joy to the World." How can we have true depth of joy if we do not prepare room? How can we sing with nature if we are staring at a screen instead of engaging in our surroundings? If we do not make room for quiet thoughts, engage in boredom, and distance ourselves from opinions or news, our vessels become too full. There is only so much capacity of random information that a person can have before burn out happens. We were meant to MAKE, to CREATE, TO BE. We were meant for meals and laughter, heartache shared and tears, quiet contemplation watching a sunset, and finding meaning no matter the circumstances.</p><p>I realize this makes me sound irrelevant or old. Frankly I do not care. Although, I did care the first year. Occasionally, when a friend forgets about me because I am not witnessing their life conveniently on a screen, and I do not hear the baby announcement or see the pictures of the latest reno and hear about it from someone I thought was less of a friend that I thought I was, I FEEL it. But then I realize that is probably not the friendship I fully want to engage in. I suppose I have high expectations for those in my life, and for me in the lives of those around me. I want flawed human connection that involves both scheduled and drop in coffee, movies on blah evenings, a shared thought of how to better our lives, confidences whispered about hopes and dreams, and time to just BE. I live my best life when I am engaged in seasonal living. I live best taking a moment to stare at the wonder of the moon, watching the flakes of snow tuck in snuggly on to an evergreen tree or the sun bounce off of my window crystals. In relationships this transfers to taking the time to hear a friend's laugh or woes, even if I had to move some of my schedule around for game/movie/coffee night. Sometimes it means stating a different date because my husband or children need me more. Regardless the season of living ENGAGES.</p><p>Guess what? It's surprising how many beautiful souls are around us, waiting for us to take the time. I have adored getting to know those put in my path. I have been surprised by Joy. Surprised by humanity and Divinity intertwined. There is an ebb and flow of strangers, close confidantes and basic friendships that are spread out in engagement, but important in the spacing. For a few long-distance loves, casual texting, sharing pictures via email and personal videos takes longer, but I have built a trusting repertoire, like old fashioned letter writing in the new century that is enriching. It's slower than social media, but it is still using the technology in a moderate, respectful way. My friend Amy and I have never met, but it feels like she lives next door. We met on this blog, followed each other on social media, and when I went off, she texted or emailed, and sent me some of the pictures and thoughts personally. Even though it was more work. Even though it took time. She is one of my soul kindreds. My point is, there ARE friendships beyond media. </p><p>I read recently there is an epidemic of loneliness and depression, even though our world is the most "connected" ever. Distress comes to us all. Isolation can happen in a crowd. Pain is inevitable. But some of this can be redeemed. In fact, all things can be redeemed. Often though, the beautiful redemption of life, comes after a sort of confession, or a realization of 'missing the mark.' I realized I was missing my mark by scrolling through my screen, taking on other people's thoughts and feelings instead of engaging, mulling them over, and discerning what was mine and what it is not of my being. I value Spirit. The Spirit of Life. The spirit of people. The spirit of the earth. The spirit of BEING.</p><p>Until recently, I thought contributing to the world was giving much of myself away in thought or reasoning. It's a needed stage in life but I'm happy to be in a new one. Where the cocoon of the womb of secrets is a protected space of belonging. Where rest is flexible. Where relation is flawed but true and those who I take the time for, and who take the time for me, witness the importance of BEING, instead of only being narrated to. There is a two-part dialogue where hopefully, ideally, the other person comes first, and not my words first for them to like with a quick heart of acknowledgement or respond to each and every time. </p><p>I do not want to make any readers feel less than or wrong for their choices. Because we each must face our own behavior, identity and choices...and what works toward SPIRIT (Beauty, Joy and Grace) in one person's life, may not be right for the next person. However, this is my testament to my becoming offline. This is a secret I feel I can share. There is so much more of course. But this behavior change and how I live and what I live for, has changed so drastically. I still struggle. There is still pain and sometimes it's hard not being part of the Otherworld. Yet, the time...the slow gritty transformation, the holy fear, the respect for life... practicing PRESENCE of God and BEING...preparing ROOM, it has been a game changer for myself. Perhaps my story can also give another a reverence for their own choices and a strong respect to make a tough change? Sometimes the harder choices in life become life giving. Saying no to the social media time blocks enabled me to say yes to many in person BEINGS. I have learned to live less for myself and hopefully, ideally sometimes, I can GIVE a bit more...there is hope for so much more. </p><p>To the Beauty of BEING and Preparing ROOM</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPm0pWZsrDVwlXPDu8E2pSfjtwp-Z_WV2C1hQHl-EvlZw9KgmKAQh-vknT9QIruE0eGd3noeyE8OK_VhNBKYEmRnqiq41fYdPvsdWJURgLpYKEIK5PMy2ixwC8vnsgeuLRm_hRcucuzcSXPtbIm78JPtCL1FWnOrkaIdTqBrAeb3pJuUi530spxoWDUg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPm0pWZsrDVwlXPDu8E2pSfjtwp-Z_WV2C1hQHl-EvlZw9KgmKAQh-vknT9QIruE0eGd3noeyE8OK_VhNBKYEmRnqiq41fYdPvsdWJURgLpYKEIK5PMy2ixwC8vnsgeuLRm_hRcucuzcSXPtbIm78JPtCL1FWnOrkaIdTqBrAeb3pJuUi530spxoWDUg=w200-h128" width="200" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Song choice: There is JOY to be found so :</p><p><a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-OJSZLHTk-8" target="_blank">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-OJSZLHTk-8</a><br /></p><p>I find specific country music helps me value the small, beautiful things in life ( the songs about family, children, country, nature , God… the lyrics can be fun or ridiculous or just full of the wonder of life moments…here are two of my playlists…) I used to share an account with my daughter and make a lot of playlists on her account but then I got my own and just added to them - thus the two names on the playlists ;)</p><p> Country Mix 2021/22<br /><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7utmVp7TrdkPQPqQRI9CYt?si=qYIh_ey3SmitRq30GMQLtQ">https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7utmVp7TrdkPQPqQRI9CYt?si=qYIh_ey3SmitRq30GMQLtQ</a></p><p>90s country<br /><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5q6EcIDLDP47RWafgb7DGe?si=bvFmhXOCTc22wlvSObJEFQ">https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5q6EcIDLDP47RWafgb7DGe?si=bvFmhXOCTc22wlvSObJEFQ</a></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-65333416616183708372022-12-13T12:42:00.007-08:002023-11-06T10:07:09.148-08:00Advent: Meaning in the Pause<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfGdBwSsxFI3zi3e6HkWNR00jwxv9BCCbWXyK034J7gjThPCxSSUAYvetJw00d0EBQUF5pvmHB934uK1c1abbwFfw0jQQ8GwYaIQpC6cXTRNDcyRQPUsMo2R_3N5_yaIBsdrUHm3LaxOru5SsIr1ajrblpWctJ74V0t2P762qgV4NH8mBLg4yEiAWHA/s4032/7258405C-AB5D-4117-85B4-77A2897C2253.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfGdBwSsxFI3zi3e6HkWNR00jwxv9BCCbWXyK034J7gjThPCxSSUAYvetJw00d0EBQUF5pvmHB934uK1c1abbwFfw0jQQ8GwYaIQpC6cXTRNDcyRQPUsMo2R_3N5_yaIBsdrUHm3LaxOru5SsIr1ajrblpWctJ74V0t2P762qgV4NH8mBLg4yEiAWHA/s320/7258405C-AB5D-4117-85B4-77A2897C2253.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> To the Souls that are intertwined on this journey:</span></p><blockquote style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;" type="cite"><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: inherit;">As the snow swirls in and out, so do the people in our lives… we make room, we let go, we share, we become… in sharing our stories other stories are enlivened. </span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the advent story - there is waiting, there is pause, there is a holy hush, there is time taken to gather, to celebrate with the song of angels… </span><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">In this age we are expected to be in "the know” for politics and world events but our minds and bodies were not made for that. Media is not God. We were made for community and solitary contemplation. We were made to create and make order. It’s those simple moments … when cinnamon orange is in the air or spiced pine and we REMEMBER. It’s the pot of chili shared with slow conversation about the delights and hardships of our lives with a few trusted souls. It’s the laugh in the board game, the song vulnerably shared, the quiet sip of coffee. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">In nature, if we pay attention and take our holy night of dark cold or humid tropical, God inspires. Creation was the first act. The first gift. Creation sings the root of why we exist. Our existence is not for our political opinions, our stances or even well intended interests nor our social media squares. What gives your soul the softened slow exhale of belonging? When do you KNOW that even in terror, there is calm, there is goodness, there is right? When do you feel the settled magic of Grace? … Follow that moment, prepare ROOM for that feeling, make intentional space for it. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">It has been said that “Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans…” I find that God is like that too… and often I am met with Jesus “on the way" to other events or plans I thought were more important. Yet, I’m learning that flexibility, saying “yes” more often than “no” has given me invaluable moments when God's Grace has shown up. I can get impatient. I can think I’m too busy to take the time for the conversation someone needs to have...but then I miss out. Again and again I’m surprised by how many miracles are in the waiting. Just like advent. I now try to keep our family schedules flexibly open enough - to prepare Him room. Because if Jesus ministered on his way to places, and took time out of his much needed rest, to heal, give food and share stories with others… why am I not? Much of his ministry was “on the way…” travelling, being interrupted, sitting at a well waiting for a drink… stopping at Martha’s home … And as a babe his long awaited birth was an exercise in waiting. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">The beauty of this season is that it’s not just about giving. It’s about receiving too. It’s as simple as receiving love. Receiving the stranger. Receiving the long lost friend. Receiving the lonely. Receiving the invitation. Receiving Living water. Accepting the gift when we may not have one to give. It’s simple. It’s that moment when the sun crests into the window and warmth seeps into the soul. May you have that this advent and holiday season. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">May you see your gifts and receive with a spirit of thanksgiving! "Who says there can't be magic when the world is in doubt? Who says there can't be joy when the lights go out?" -(Magic lyrics)</span></div></div></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnuirWKRp-We6efcVdKBJKpaH_e8PGdNqVrtHH0AUNvlkuMOn7UdeGlwX0DZGZntHYi7ZZX_VPVjqx1GUKKfNr_Iq8dk2dyPlqN5o0LHykw_HPap76bEStUM2XQIZitIBcrwdTpzwQ2TmFZbQDlEAkxk5NvhGQMFzu4a1az6Vl8cnObJg0RkSSVrwapA/s4032/F37D83EC-3D2B-462D-8468-3470ED0D372C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnuirWKRp-We6efcVdKBJKpaH_e8PGdNqVrtHH0AUNvlkuMOn7UdeGlwX0DZGZntHYi7ZZX_VPVjqx1GUKKfNr_Iq8dk2dyPlqN5o0LHykw_HPap76bEStUM2XQIZitIBcrwdTpzwQ2TmFZbQDlEAkxk5NvhGQMFzu4a1az6Vl8cnObJg0RkSSVrwapA/s320/F37D83EC-3D2B-462D-8468-3470ED0D372C.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OTxBhO2iitQWpwMl_-gGBGlU0yJVzAX1VhR_ZUmAlQziGozuTczIucly6_p7pWHsGGQfRORpOPkPbQDJmG2-Nl-8vNK4T8MyGLV3ADjYhwyplN1iH2NqIKBg9Oe2Tbr1rJDqXJTLSq87yt3v06GxWugr_-_QhkZC5howBo0eZdjiTTgFl8sBAtuctQ/s3889/0A9D8928-4369-4ECB-8BDD-30DCCECAF8FE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3889" data-original-width="2409" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OTxBhO2iitQWpwMl_-gGBGlU0yJVzAX1VhR_ZUmAlQziGozuTczIucly6_p7pWHsGGQfRORpOPkPbQDJmG2-Nl-8vNK4T8MyGLV3ADjYhwyplN1iH2NqIKBg9Oe2Tbr1rJDqXJTLSq87yt3v06GxWugr_-_QhkZC5howBo0eZdjiTTgFl8sBAtuctQ/s320/0A9D8928-4369-4ECB-8BDD-30DCCECAF8FE.jpeg" width="198" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRohJ1Ibt8F2lltpKHiW_2pJ9hUaVyhO3vHNFiU1xONhVf5Ur55U08kb3a__ez52K0jdPz6lvfcRCKWG00Wmh3AwqTR3js6r_3-S3wGdPbTnLJPhqohDb5EqxNkEiUUvU_3mUnFGdd11P2FddU84tLIW-NMTV8a_MkDtWa_MvsgY7JoTdSOBVJh24Bw/s2197/1D39438A-2FC9-4AD4-968B-89D1C2F46379.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2197" data-original-width="1996" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRohJ1Ibt8F2lltpKHiW_2pJ9hUaVyhO3vHNFiU1xONhVf5Ur55U08kb3a__ez52K0jdPz6lvfcRCKWG00Wmh3AwqTR3js6r_3-S3wGdPbTnLJPhqohDb5EqxNkEiUUvU_3mUnFGdd11P2FddU84tLIW-NMTV8a_MkDtWa_MvsgY7JoTdSOBVJh24Bw/s320/1D39438A-2FC9-4AD4-968B-89D1C2F46379.jpeg" width="291" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzrqk6djNpxzQUDALB1kG9t9bvw60H6s9Iaf3ISAHrDng892ZsMFobrv7RD5v6MSpy9dCMTH7V6ufMhQv6K7gfxoWye9IodT1moqKdCEVMYKVlHKvwx1fv9FSXEvpoxlpRubv-OvtWfkkYMSoVwFOzEOZAJbxRaSBF3yLKn3yyphfh4DJ6-6bpAc_Vw/s320/402882B9-C672-4AAE-AF7A-6BE8B39738AE.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></p><p>Song Choice: Magic- Lindsey Stirling featuring David Archuletta</p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2GggHvmjzpU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-84046844197695261432022-09-03T11:04:00.011-07:002023-12-07T10:54:19.732-08:00Unredeemable?; The Reckoning: Ruthless Redemption, Repentance and Reconciliation.<p>Post Note: This post is NOT about TRAUMA of any sort. Nor is it inherently about grief, mental illness, depression or anxiety. While this could apply in certain ways, because just like an arm pain can indicate heart or gut issues, a singular suffering should not be boxed up into one category, I want to be clear that, for myself, this post is about the pain of facing oneself when parts of self need to grow. This IS about self reflection, self growth and a requirement of honest mirrors. This post is more focused on issues that are self growth related, and should not be mixed up with any diagnosis or need that may require legitimate pills, therapy, or clinical diagnosis. I am not a doctor. This is most assuredly a post on reckoning, redemption, ruthless mirrors, repentance and reconciliation....handily all the "R's" *</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNg517MGZrbmbDk2oXrUw78ym-9MpJb2G23HtwSTzgFcTeJ7PjZRLQNk96Pz5yqrmjiEnQ6qwgO8HOioyk5JbvymDV2Zkful5b3_5U5LJiLP7pn6oBwNgqtqgyAQGYcOz-5z8-8my9WrzNvGAvXufYuf28i0RB01-kkBCUCZwTSLNIoUUdnEl1pV8X4g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNg517MGZrbmbDk2oXrUw78ym-9MpJb2G23HtwSTzgFcTeJ7PjZRLQNk96Pz5yqrmjiEnQ6qwgO8HOioyk5JbvymDV2Zkful5b3_5U5LJiLP7pn6oBwNgqtqgyAQGYcOz-5z8-8my9WrzNvGAvXufYuf28i0RB01-kkBCUCZwTSLNIoUUdnEl1pV8X4g=w240-h320" width="240" /></a></div><br />I stood in front of a nine foot mirror in a home of 12 foot ceilings. Even though my home is notorious for hosting at least 68 mirrors, most of them are placed to reflect light and not the full reflection of a person. So this was the first time I had to seriously face my physical self. I had been battling self esteem issues since January, most of which stemmed from extremely low iron and medical issues (which do set some of the foundation for this post and are worth mentioning but are NOT what this post is about.) When health is sputtering along, it is hard for the rest of a BEING to fully flourish, but I try to give it my best. However, I knew something wasn't right, but the revelations seemed to be slowly spitting out truths instead of revealing the whole. Until I stood in front of that mirror.<p></p><p>The mirror was only part of the revelation. I looked upon my full self and realized I didn't like what I saw. It wasn't just the chronic illness weight and inflammation or the ridiculous notion that I was completely hideous ( I know when I am being dramatic)...It was the fact that the girl looking back was almost unrecognizable and she was ME. In that moment I knew there would be a reckoning.</p><p>It was an overnight holiday that was perfect in every way. I had nothing to blame but myself, I was up until 5 am and woke to a leg cramp at 7. The night was beautifully full of stars overlooking a mountain view outside my 9 foot glassed door. A trusted friend was sleeping in the home a few doors down. My belly was full of good food. The king size bed was even more comfortable than my beloved bed...and yet I was tortured. Insomnia can be familiar to me, but this was profound reckoning. All the revelations hit me. Concealed was revealed. I saw my vices, my created pain ( not legitimate pain that needs support but pain I had created by sitting in habits I could change), and my cruelty towards self and others. I faced the mirror of self...</p><p>"I know this hurts real bad right now. I know you feel mad and sad right now. But the sky isn't falling- that's just the rain. It's safe to just call this...pain. Girl I've been there, Yea life isn't fair It's okay to not be all right, just go ahead and cry... It might sound insane but I promise one day you're gonna be thanking you're lucky stars for all this pain."- Ingrid Andreas lyrics - Pain.</p><p>I got through the rest of my holiday by sheer grit. My perfect holiday ruined only by my own BEING. I saw my incapabilities clearly, my selfishness, my inability to adjust the way I would like, and my self loathing foamed. I saw the issues I was looking for in my marriage, parenting, and self...the accounts I had been trying to settle since January were ending. The five hour trip home consisted of me bawling my eyes out through sniffled repentance. Specifically with my husband because he was my travelling partner, not only through the holiday and life, but literally. I saw my part in the equation I could not figure out. While he also took ownership, the important parts I had missed before, came to the surface with ruthless intensity. I had a lot to reconcile. </p><p>I've often shied away from the word repentance due to my upbringing. It was misused for varied agendas. But sometimes it is the only word that can state the absolute sorrow at actions that have been done or love that has been missed. Being penitent, or showing remorse, for one's misdeeds, and confessing such to all that IS, oneself and those loved, brings about a different mirror. At first it's a ruthless light that shows all the cracks, crinkles, and bruises. Yet, interestingly enough, after the refining burning of light, there is astounding peace and grace. Repentance suddenly feels like a gift that opens up to true reconciliation. A healing. </p><p>"Without the pain, how would you know? What things to change and what stays the same? And which parts of you still have to grow? It can be ruthless, yeah, I've been there too. But you're gonna get through this pain." - Ingrid Andreas lyrics - Pain.</p><p>I'm not where I want to be, yet in those moments of pain, and the days following, I saw not only whom I COULD be, but also bits of light inside that I did not know I had. It is going to take courage to grow. Growth is painful. It's humbling. And there are honestly parts of me that will not, in this lifetime, be mine to fully grasp. Because self improvement is limiting too. There is a point where Grace enters in. The broken tea cup mended with gold still required someone else to make it beautiful. Sometimes, it is the cracks that show us where we need the most Light.</p><p>There is a different sort of pain in facing oneself. It's different from trauma done upon you. It is different than mental illness needing support. It is different from being a victim or wallowing in self pity. It's the type of pain that comes in childbirth. It is for a purpose. It changes the inside and outside in a short span of time. It is ruthless yet can harness aspects of joy that will eventually grow into peace. What have I lost by wallowing? What have I lost by not facing the mirror sooner? What I have lost in the reckoning? Perhaps all the good lost is redeemed, but I will not fully see it with my mortal eyes? Perhaps I gained more than I lost in the end? Maybe I needed the time to fully face the mirror? </p><p>I only know that ruthless redemption became a balm. For instance, when I reconciled the issues I clearly saw and owned my part in my marriage story (which is fairly a healthy marriage, but I still had to face criticism and derisions I had regularly foisted upon my husband), and when I genuinely cried true apologies with repentance and noted plans for behavioural change...my husband looked at me...and I saw a glimpse of that ruthless redemption. I saw the pain I caused clearly, which hurt even more, but mixed in that was a love that encompassed it all. Mirrored back through his eyes was grace. Reconciliation on the heels of pain. How much more could a Divine presence give?</p><p>I've always had a strong faith in all that IS. While I have not adhered, at points, to certain religious standards (and probably never fully will) or institutions...I believe in wrestling with God, instead of the man made ideas or institutions about ALL THAT IS. So of course, this stance encompasses all that I am. I am not a true evangelical (my roots) in that, I don't like to outright state things fully. I prefer to LIVE and let GOD. I believe God is so much more than my ideas and that powerful presence does not really need me to fight Divine battles. I also believe those that are different from me, or who do not believe in a Presence, have just as much to give and receive on this plain. I have many Atheist friends whom have turned me, for the better, into a person with more questions than answers. I believe ALL THAT IS GOOD comes from God. Which means, that a lot in life is BREATHED. I'm not one for major sin dialogues. However, there is legitimacy in redemption, repentance and reconciliation. A person can feel the difference when it happens on any level. </p><p>With my children, I saw the need for the same process of asking for forgiveness for my harsh approach this year. When did I become hard? I saw the root, and while some of it CAN be explained or understood, there is another part of it that not only has to be owned, but given up, to become more than I am. I also need to ask for forgiveness because I DID harm them in my tones and eye rolls. A parent is supposed to be a well of guidance, giving, grace and loving support. While I will not be perfect, nor should they expect perfection, they should expect me to reconcile when I have wronged. As I expect the same from them. Without this dialogue I feel we are missing so much Light in the end.</p><p>It's true that when one walks through a refining process, there is more necessary pain, than joy. I have cried more in this week than I usually do in a year. And the hits keep coming. Unexpected shadows have creeped up to deal with. I've shattered some hearts including my own. My thoughts can get dark. Yet, acknowledging this is necessary for the Light to seep in. Changes are also becoming part of the process. Slowly behaviour is being refined. Grace covers the rest. "Good person, how do you do it? Do you just wake up with a smile on your face? Good person, what does it look like seeing the world as a happy place? I'm trying to turn the page, do you think I have what it takes? Cause I have cheated and lied, and made people cry, but I pray for the ones that I love every night. And I've shattered some hearts and my thoughts get dark, but I'd stop for a stranger who is falling apart. I'm still learning. Good, good person. Do you ever lose it when somebody steals that one last parking spot? Good person, Do you ever say no? Does the high road get lonely? Do you ever pull off?...Have you cheated and lied or made people cry? The right hand of God, tell me what is it like to throw all the stones? But all mirrors and smoke, they come to my show, but you won't let me go behind the curtain. Good, Good person... Tell me how, tell me how to be a good, good person...I'm trying to turn the page..." - Ingrid Andress - Good Person lyrics.</p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></p><p><br /></p><p>Song choices: </p><p><br /></p><p>Un redeemable from Spirited: </p><p><a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EQN3gvu9oZo" target="_blank">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EQN3gvu9oZ</a></p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EQN3gvu9oZo" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><a gvu9ozo="" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfRIVM81w4Q" https:="" target="_blank" youtu.be="">Pain- Ingrid Andress</a></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3v0K8NaTpI" target="_blank"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pfRIVM81w4Q" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></a></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3v0K8NaTpI" target="_blank">Good Person- Ingrid Andress</a></p><p><br /></p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/M3v0K8NaTpI" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-40893369708251028012022-07-06T13:43:00.011-07:002022-07-07T08:11:49.253-07:00You're Still the One- Twenty Years Of Marriage Together<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhgxpvbSY-YLXLEbqNSdR7OTbXdZpOKsk_Ug9xtr1Q1XvQ_AfjYv38Jp_N8ys_v0kgQ9MzVfdxQ_xnY8kntUvLLd76J3QlD6qwzo_g7BR-ds2HXr25HdzFyHY5iprTnT499zCnDqUekMD44-H5mn169EErpF_PpY-VLFTtg8hnGoTbpGxmCw48y090g/s1600/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1161" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhgxpvbSY-YLXLEbqNSdR7OTbXdZpOKsk_Ug9xtr1Q1XvQ_AfjYv38Jp_N8ys_v0kgQ9MzVfdxQ_xnY8kntUvLLd76J3QlD6qwzo_g7BR-ds2HXr25HdzFyHY5iprTnT499zCnDqUekMD44-H5mn169EErpF_PpY-VLFTtg8hnGoTbpGxmCw48y090g/s320/FullSizeRender-1.jpg" width="232" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbNxCEOr8k51zS3ZN6TIRP5usbJt6uKKtBURsaLVNV5VMApCUo4Hqv--nCz2ImbQG83ZlhzGtuh9a6NTZBDx5M79TLIqfbcDdMMw1zgy_tdLzq9Xoi7gvX025ufJNOqf0ptjPFzjcSWUfyJs6EOjKQe6k98r8qHTWM_v1JQrCyqnHlP7j2ZoRUNmJaw/s640/fullsizeoutput_770a.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="640" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbNxCEOr8k51zS3ZN6TIRP5usbJt6uKKtBURsaLVNV5VMApCUo4Hqv--nCz2ImbQG83ZlhzGtuh9a6NTZBDx5M79TLIqfbcDdMMw1zgy_tdLzq9Xoi7gvX025ufJNOqf0ptjPFzjcSWUfyJs6EOjKQe6k98r8qHTWM_v1JQrCyqnHlP7j2ZoRUNmJaw/s320/fullsizeoutput_770a.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-pzJiYjL0GkOhzbyRtez9A9HW4IiyM9rEGjM533u2Ip90wIov1y-0UEdXlmU86QAr-R_e0xuSOSaF6lKfnSZ2oVE8dXWSzEYxBT58ueXoQ2rNN1DZ167T-eg7b2-zC0Iw8Sv1ut41GaqDUbDxmOz4rUqSbkGTB3aQDnPSBXQ0d2MYMe4RPpY4fVC9g/s1080/7EFA9823-1CD2-4B4E-8003-4AC2C7C2E9B6.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-pzJiYjL0GkOhzbyRtez9A9HW4IiyM9rEGjM533u2Ip90wIov1y-0UEdXlmU86QAr-R_e0xuSOSaF6lKfnSZ2oVE8dXWSzEYxBT58ueXoQ2rNN1DZ167T-eg7b2-zC0Iw8Sv1ut41GaqDUbDxmOz4rUqSbkGTB3aQDnPSBXQ0d2MYMe4RPpY4fVC9g/s320/7EFA9823-1CD2-4B4E-8003-4AC2C7C2E9B6.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKE52Zjr2IPBlM0uuFZK21QHd3Aair3Xm-vzePEKIDkTR_m9hRDbXdKCHBNgPBV64SOvnXF8DdhUWgeaDZTR9LAsP0omMA2VsxTwMu-JRsEuw0a7t7hHfARz5dEoR0jSrqycFiK9qbNoREEni51zfHchivN7reuFhym-oDVM3zKowVbcZ-jSBrWMWhAQ/s1600/13E57524-C6CC-4AD7-A6A9-69A8FA09E584.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKE52Zjr2IPBlM0uuFZK21QHd3Aair3Xm-vzePEKIDkTR_m9hRDbXdKCHBNgPBV64SOvnXF8DdhUWgeaDZTR9LAsP0omMA2VsxTwMu-JRsEuw0a7t7hHfARz5dEoR0jSrqycFiK9qbNoREEni51zfHchivN7reuFhym-oDVM3zKowVbcZ-jSBrWMWhAQ/s320/13E57524-C6CC-4AD7-A6A9-69A8FA09E584.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"I remember trying not to stare the night that I first met you, you had me mesmerized... I thought I loved you then but now you're my whole life, now you're my whole world...like a river meets the sea, stronger than it's ever been. We've come so far since that day and I thought I loved you then!" Brad Paisley</span></div><div><br /></div><div>He was a 'Chip N Dale' for Miss Teen Night. 17. On stage with cuffs, ripped off at the shoulders unbuttoned dress shirt and a bow tie with a charming smile and Steve Harrington hair. I turned to my friend, "Who is THAT?!" I had never felt such a zip of attraction before. She stated, "Oh don't even try. He's way out of your league." That night I mentioned his weird last name to my dad (and pronounced it wrong!) briefly and then forgot about him until my father realized he worked with his brother. They crafted an acceptance to his application to college a few months later. Behind my back, they wrote, "You are accepted to this college on the condition you date the Director of Enrolment's daughter on a six month probationary period." I was appalled. He thought it was a message from God. He stated that as soon as he scoped me out at my job cashiering, and I turned around to smile at him, he was hooked... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4z6AN3Xsmc_nrckeu6Uyx3q_nEG4jIXGOAAIkzhUycDQBJLwRdTvvP0FJRtlvrOgoGTWh6g0xflIRkkZZAhBDmR_fAhQ5djFFVlyJFR_TFee5qsahBH87RJoq5_nDIX7x_PH6rlihe22vDFn9TM0AC5TkeiOx6nAhsoT8_xSpX5eGFn5yce85oK-j9A/s1350/IMG_4040.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4z6AN3Xsmc_nrckeu6Uyx3q_nEG4jIXGOAAIkzhUycDQBJLwRdTvvP0FJRtlvrOgoGTWh6g0xflIRkkZZAhBDmR_fAhQ5djFFVlyJFR_TFee5qsahBH87RJoq5_nDIX7x_PH6rlihe22vDFn9TM0AC5TkeiOx6nAhsoT8_xSpX5eGFn5yce85oK-j9A/s320/IMG_4040.JPG" width="256" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0cpgKfzgJ5KtUrtKoLJCgor2Zkq5Py8jplwmjw8UaZKldcUpcx_w6UCPCW5qvmolNKO8T1J6t6z_RXBCNDs8kQmd--05ppfKVeCAivrSLCp9qV2MQlGGmnC7tn9SuKlh3zgnumEZosWLDXTblOdnxZkJmtcVSmHcVPzs2cJujh6I37BR9kFxwEOjQgw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0cpgKfzgJ5KtUrtKoLJCgor2Zkq5Py8jplwmjw8UaZKldcUpcx_w6UCPCW5qvmolNKO8T1J6t6z_RXBCNDs8kQmd--05ppfKVeCAivrSLCp9qV2MQlGGmnC7tn9SuKlh3zgnumEZosWLDXTblOdnxZkJmtcVSmHcVPzs2cJujh6I37BR9kFxwEOjQgw" width="240" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"Looks like we made it, look how far we've come now baby?...They said, "I bet, they'll never make it." But just look at us holding on. We're still together, still going strong. You're still the one I run to, the one that I belong to, You're still the one I want for life. You're still the one that I love. The only one I dream of. You're still the one I kiss good night. Aint nothing better. We beat the odds together. I'm glad we didn't listen. Look at what we would be missing!" Shania Twain</span></div><div><br /></div><div>We were engaged 7 months later. We were constantly told we would not make it. So we hired 7 different marital counsellors from 7 different churches. 7 months later we were married. 7 seemed to be our number. Teenagers can be strong willed. I expected our path to be tough because I'm an old soul whom overthinks, but I also knew, deep down, that our love was unique and I would love him till the day I died. With each milestone passed, I would hum Shania's song, thankful that thus far, we beat the odds together.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6Nn9B0fLhuFFrXed6VaAa9GdIF0xEeG8EQQgHdzDPVOkrmRA49SEOTa8HEUP0kYZ4Qz7JRkLYD81Y97AFER_z0odeU7rtvUA_npvivxdw9Gq1uE-g4ynSY8LTVlX8uk6kinKVt-8eHZnwmLmjaIJ2HNnfZdYtiIe6ZQTD4044VltFC_DLBKPtyQOWw/s1600/fullsizeoutput_5dc3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6Nn9B0fLhuFFrXed6VaAa9GdIF0xEeG8EQQgHdzDPVOkrmRA49SEOTa8HEUP0kYZ4Qz7JRkLYD81Y97AFER_z0odeU7rtvUA_npvivxdw9Gq1uE-g4ynSY8LTVlX8uk6kinKVt-8eHZnwmLmjaIJ2HNnfZdYtiIe6ZQTD4044VltFC_DLBKPtyQOWw/s320/fullsizeoutput_5dc3.jpeg" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PDdzdr6EjLJKywZgbKDyU2REriB-r32iEmOwLVQaQNRf7Zh7b3bLXpjjxEJlEq9GMmTMCp09Yzm-ksNiJx4tb7IKypJnOkMMWR38P81386zTzDmpmE-tzl87Z9CJVqoZsP-3qnXwKksq3XMZsHxkrRpfq8XR-7-0kWujtL8pjO-C7zXOP_7quw9RHw/s1600/IMG_1581.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PDdzdr6EjLJKywZgbKDyU2REriB-r32iEmOwLVQaQNRf7Zh7b3bLXpjjxEJlEq9GMmTMCp09Yzm-ksNiJx4tb7IKypJnOkMMWR38P81386zTzDmpmE-tzl87Z9CJVqoZsP-3qnXwKksq3XMZsHxkrRpfq8XR-7-0kWujtL8pjO-C7zXOP_7quw9RHw/s320/IMG_1581.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"Remember when I was young and so were you? Time stood still. The love was all we knew...Remember when we gave our hearts, made a start and it was hard. We lived and learned, life threw curves, there was joy and there was hurt. Remember when? Remember when old ones died and new were born and life was changed, life was dissembled and re arranged. We came together and fell apart and broke each other's hearts. Remember when? The sound of little feet was music, we danced to week to week...Remember when? Thirty seemed so old, now looking back, it's just a stepping stone to where we are and where we've been, said we would do it all again. Remember when?" Alan Jackson</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Having a newborn and pregnant again before twenty was blissful and tough. I would do it all again. We nestled into each other and built our foundations. There was joy. There was hurt. As the years turned, the ordinary and extraordinary blended into sunsets. Our family was born. Meanwhile loved ones died and we definitely were disassembled and re arranged. Grief does not make all people kind. Only healed grief can be a balm...a wounded healer. We had to learn that lesson after both of our hearts were broken by life and each other ...for a time...but we always chose to come together through our blunted feelings or harsh words. Those stepping stones brought us to where we are today. I would do it all again.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKPSytkPZFuSLQ6fe3z1N-3lzn2c2vGcERyRURYLlRuCY7AcPmAq6fonK-3ydIVO2JzqyIGwxFNMRgmPJa3mZ7yvEv7Z9ncyRM_hTjBRYQ7yx8ptnSbQYN0Uft5MDQ7mw1Fi7sW0FLmlF0Vwc-aOhve9joVJM0RUViUMhCGI7H3Lj4d13JzpHUYcfZw/s1600/IMG_1441.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKPSytkPZFuSLQ6fe3z1N-3lzn2c2vGcERyRURYLlRuCY7AcPmAq6fonK-3ydIVO2JzqyIGwxFNMRgmPJa3mZ7yvEv7Z9ncyRM_hTjBRYQ7yx8ptnSbQYN0Uft5MDQ7mw1Fi7sW0FLmlF0Vwc-aOhve9joVJM0RUViUMhCGI7H3Lj4d13JzpHUYcfZw/s320/IMG_1441.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0bLu2ba5g2vFDQfxgNdSgACLYR3feK2MhXhTrxpMgsi_3YiFD9RVvbAronVTvQDAoMAkH_VjiyB2X3W6zwN-M7cjI91H2sMkG0vYgyx1wiY1mFoTCZUVEChudz3ELizOjlF2VCwDOTFuq5BR3AQ87FYPHHkYdtKTj4ht1emKsuJ-GSWukY0CKx4osA/s1280/88CFFFD2-9B94-4E7B-819D-C7D30E231617.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0bLu2ba5g2vFDQfxgNdSgACLYR3feK2MhXhTrxpMgsi_3YiFD9RVvbAronVTvQDAoMAkH_VjiyB2X3W6zwN-M7cjI91H2sMkG0vYgyx1wiY1mFoTCZUVEChudz3ELizOjlF2VCwDOTFuq5BR3AQ87FYPHHkYdtKTj4ht1emKsuJ-GSWukY0CKx4osA/s320/88CFFFD2-9B94-4E7B-819D-C7D30E231617.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"These times are trouble and these times are good and they are always gonna be. They rise and they fall. We take them all the way that we should, together you and me...When I said I do, I meant that I WILL, till the end of all time, be faithful and true, devoted to you. That's what I had in mind when I say I do." Clint Black</span></div><div><br /></div><div>I take vows seriously. I try not to speak something I do not mean. Honestly? I struggled with my wedding day and parts of my honeymoon. I preferred our smaller, ordinary dating moments or random spontaneous sunset watching, country driving evenings. But the part of my wedding day that sticks, in the right way, was when I said I do. Because I meant that I would be devoted in good times in bad... It was true from the start. I was sick and standing in front of over 300 people...not my forte. But I was doing it because I loved him. My Uncle Chris, who was a recorded country singer and sounded like Alan Jackson, sang Tracy Byrd's 'Keeper of the Stars' and my heart wished a thousand 'thank you's' heavenward that I had someone who I wanted to protect and cherish and whom understood and adored me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEkT0yPr4DezMQV7xOBFZVNzuqafpCxEkbeQ_6HyUGgRixjVo5X5G5Nk3tW69F3kzwhUlc29REN6OB3ME9Q9IS9bNW81fx4OMs6LnU_Ul7dZ6PxWZU5FhDgjSZJE7AVx_RjE2L3gFsHewcUOAjKBPodXl5KzyZ0_wZLP_3uCRAmZ9_wXsfhIPnwqFoQ/s1280/fullsizeoutput_a84f.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTEkT0yPr4DezMQV7xOBFZVNzuqafpCxEkbeQ_6HyUGgRixjVo5X5G5Nk3tW69F3kzwhUlc29REN6OB3ME9Q9IS9bNW81fx4OMs6LnU_Ul7dZ6PxWZU5FhDgjSZJE7AVx_RjE2L3gFsHewcUOAjKBPodXl5KzyZ0_wZLP_3uCRAmZ9_wXsfhIPnwqFoQ/s320/fullsizeoutput_a84f.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNgao7S1P1MDRulBvI8EJOkAC_EqUooDy8zFvwnComeT9PYzddOlOa-Gqj26ZDVwLVkRCQ5FE0af5lN1n8GxMsLcENPUUdyQDqwnU2_rLuVu-xO7geIdOyhM7KREkqWHhDi7FsbsMdVMY45psKdPbzPXREnxNyZZwvAiz_8douyGqphmcAhuYmAwpTg/s1600/fullsizeoutput_aafa.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1545" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNgao7S1P1MDRulBvI8EJOkAC_EqUooDy8zFvwnComeT9PYzddOlOa-Gqj26ZDVwLVkRCQ5FE0af5lN1n8GxMsLcENPUUdyQDqwnU2_rLuVu-xO7geIdOyhM7KREkqWHhDi7FsbsMdVMY45psKdPbzPXREnxNyZZwvAiz_8douyGqphmcAhuYmAwpTg/s320/fullsizeoutput_aafa.jpeg" width="309" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"It was no accident, me finding you. Someone had a hand in it. Long before we every knew. Now I just can't believe you're in my life. Heaven's smiling down on me. As I look at you tonight. I tip my hat, to the Keeper of the Stars. He sure knew what he was doing when he joined these two hearts. I hold everything when I hold in my arms. I have all I ever need- thanks to the Keeper of the Stars." Tracy Byrd</span></div><div><br /></div><div>I would like to think we have become better together. I would hope that I am more than I was. But I KNOW that he is still my ONE. He has the capacity to render my heart into bits of frustration in one moment (and believe we are going to divorce that day!) and in a few hours I am shocked at how easy it is to forgive and move on. His love dances in the dark.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPA3SlntVtVwnN5DmelVEWn2aQgrenG--DUqLO8jbgRdoU8QxO8pPmIfj7Pw-am7YkFGWUN_lt3Ob7gqwq0-eLMoASaua_G3aKdu9QTaouPF0Ou_uw-zRbqwpWRvZtFwDW73LBm6uMOHKyS4wVxyqCOECDdhivN-79QANxh6RAwZ6qzsmyziYGMPNiaw/s1600/IMG_1559.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1574" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPA3SlntVtVwnN5DmelVEWn2aQgrenG--DUqLO8jbgRdoU8QxO8pPmIfj7Pw-am7YkFGWUN_lt3Ob7gqwq0-eLMoASaua_G3aKdu9QTaouPF0Ou_uw-zRbqwpWRvZtFwDW73LBm6uMOHKyS4wVxyqCOECDdhivN-79QANxh6RAwZ6qzsmyziYGMPNiaw/s320/IMG_1559.jpg" width="315" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5XCaRdgB9VGY-48Hfv58curCaybABW8OjSlrpovQBIW6Z1NPUiW3S5kpAtgz-9LpWPInMxfeYJ5eXv3BWieR3e26hfS50RwDXYPSIz9Nb5OBAzELFA258lKOCAE4AMlUKy3nDVMhvY1bpHvdKgmQdPhPtaaz9xbsDtnWWiUASo-CTMqgl8h8j300HAw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_b583.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5XCaRdgB9VGY-48Hfv58curCaybABW8OjSlrpovQBIW6Z1NPUiW3S5kpAtgz-9LpWPInMxfeYJ5eXv3BWieR3e26hfS50RwDXYPSIz9Nb5OBAzELFA258lKOCAE4AMlUKy3nDVMhvY1bpHvdKgmQdPhPtaaz9xbsDtnWWiUASo-CTMqgl8h8j300HAw/s320/fullsizeoutput_b583.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"Dancing in the dark, in the middle of the night, taking your heart and holding it tight..Oh it's a beautiful thing, don't think I can keep it all in. I just gotta let you know what it is that won't let me go. It's your love- it just does something to me - it sends a shock right through me and I can't get enough. If you wonder about the spell I'm under - it's your love. Better than I was, more than I am. And all of this happened by taking your hand, and who I am now, is who I wanted to be, and now that we're together, I'm stronger than ever, I'm happy and free...and if you asked me why I've changed- all I gotta do is say your sweet name." Tim Mcgraw and Faith Hill</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Our song doesn't get old to me. I hear it when the crickets chirp at dusk and the smell of summer BBQ's sing sticky sweet. I hear it on cold blustery days when smells of chocolate chip cookies permeate the air. I hear it on the radio when a new song sings how I FEEL or an old one reminds me of what I felt before. I hear my love in his chuckle which is, besides my children's voices, the most beautiful sound in the world to my soul. Our song is in the mundane, magical ordinary. We do best when we just ARE. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDU54C4okaXOyS3zv-yYRYEwffWBnmAM_BEyRj0ZyUr0D7uDuR3ObPlQyBuScSNY-bcbHFsZava2_WiDgt-Y6JQsaztPj11vXl12nIAtia9eiFblEgizGY9PTtPoSz773trKyn_pfco_S_pK237KBTtMR1EPuytZH1Zs9G_1Z2KzrRirmiJpJP4Gg2eQ/s1080/IMG_4030.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDU54C4okaXOyS3zv-yYRYEwffWBnmAM_BEyRj0ZyUr0D7uDuR3ObPlQyBuScSNY-bcbHFsZava2_WiDgt-Y6JQsaztPj11vXl12nIAtia9eiFblEgizGY9PTtPoSz773trKyn_pfco_S_pK237KBTtMR1EPuytZH1Zs9G_1Z2KzrRirmiJpJP4Gg2eQ/s320/IMG_4030.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjtup7EueASXHh-vWCArwsNfQoI6ysx0oFggp-fPlVbumWa3Lc_1M81pfFqFIsBE-CfxfkKlR12Nawj-hlPBZaMUlH0EtfHl3YenO3G8-7UfAA-xNcijGqgzgjiB6acUbIgsMFqD01QOex7M4HAkPOFCXhOMkoPmexkI0UiAFqVBD2c_UJ2R27TqZOw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_e1bf.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjtup7EueASXHh-vWCArwsNfQoI6ysx0oFggp-fPlVbumWa3Lc_1M81pfFqFIsBE-CfxfkKlR12Nawj-hlPBZaMUlH0EtfHl3YenO3G8-7UfAA-xNcijGqgzgjiB6acUbIgsMFqD01QOex7M4HAkPOFCXhOMkoPmexkI0UiAFqVBD2c_UJ2R27TqZOw/s320/fullsizeoutput_e1bf.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"Ordinary? No. I really don't think so. Not a love this true. Common destiny. We were meant to be. Me and You. Like a perfect scene from a movie screen we're a dream come true. Suited perfectly. For eternity. Me and YOU. Everyday I need you even more. And the nighttime too. There's no way I could ever let you go. Even if I wanted to. Every day I live, try my best to give, all I have to you. Thank the stars above that we share this love- me and you. " Kenny Chesney</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQTqkB3r9kEPCveBQT8AQ0EPK9eu3ro9dLlApBQmODfnbtFir4s9IsWoJaC1BlTVmWSGOnPvqW-X70VuzzxGacej5hgMoEZUWrFsQE9oBz20OzRtKrK7KjlIjD-aXdXYvrU9JzVWf9s9aPiEPn10_asAXE4r7ew6A_1cm14swmcBrpJ12hevtFOLSPw/s1440/57C936C4-438B-434B-942B-C250ADD94E71.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQTqkB3r9kEPCveBQT8AQ0EPK9eu3ro9dLlApBQmODfnbtFir4s9IsWoJaC1BlTVmWSGOnPvqW-X70VuzzxGacej5hgMoEZUWrFsQE9oBz20OzRtKrK7KjlIjD-aXdXYvrU9JzVWf9s9aPiEPn10_asAXE4r7ew6A_1cm14swmcBrpJ12hevtFOLSPw/s320/57C936C4-438B-434B-942B-C250ADD94E71.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq05AZNGkMr_w0nl-rxLXTt2BN_o9az7pg2E-b76rqscCjdGS2HQ1OECD0kEGwi72Vyv5F8BfZauJV9wDaORFp3gALgjG83eEe32NL-GJwERhz3u3w0sqgACPnDYGl8TxNze76RKFTJwC0QpZv_F5ExmQ6ozHzJ6ZnMtTMZ9a7yZmIaxmkE3wCXcNyyQ/s1280/ECD08383-3DEF-47A2-A55A-AABFC4285745.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq05AZNGkMr_w0nl-rxLXTt2BN_o9az7pg2E-b76rqscCjdGS2HQ1OECD0kEGwi72Vyv5F8BfZauJV9wDaORFp3gALgjG83eEe32NL-GJwERhz3u3w0sqgACPnDYGl8TxNze76RKFTJwC0QpZv_F5ExmQ6ozHzJ6ZnMtTMZ9a7yZmIaxmkE3wCXcNyyQ/s320/ECD08383-3DEF-47A2-A55A-AABFC4285745.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div>We are notoriously terrible at Anniversaries. I am usually sick or have my period every SINGLE year. Andenomyosis, Endometriosis, PCOS and Anemia all make this an exercise in pain. (Birth control doesn't work for me and I can not do the recommended hysterectomy.) So my husband usually spends the day trying to make me feel comfortable. We are usually broke. It IS true that a downside of marrying and having kids as teenagers is that it IS hard to build a financial foundation or catch up. So we don't usually even buy gifts and sometimes we don't even have the funds to travel to the next city over for a coffee. We have had three anniversaries out of twenty when we bought larger gifts...and we have never gone away together. I would not recommend it to MOST people because not knowing if the groceries or mortgage will go through sometimes is tough, tough, tough...but at the same time, those who have a very strong love and are extremely dedicated to each other, can make it through if they have just enough to scrape by. Any less than what we had, I am not as sure, because many aspects can break a marriage. I do not underestimate that. Some years we have just enough, a couple years we had more than enough, but usually we just scrape by...and it teaches us different things about life. We do other things well. But as far as travelling the world and diamonds and non thrifting shopping??? We are rich in our love. I would rather write him a love letter and listen to our favourite songs as we drive around our favourite country roads than have epic adventures. While a posh hotel would be welcomed, in the end - it's about us. It's about just BEING with him.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"Last night I had a crazy dream, a wish was granted just for me, and it could be for anything. I didn't ask for money or a mansion in Malibu, I simply wished for one more day with you. One more day. One more time. One more sunset baby, I'd be satisfied, but then again, I know what it would do, leave me wishing still for one more day with you. First thing I'd do is pray for time to crawl. I'd unplug the telephones. Keep the TV off. I'd hold you every second. Say a million I love you's - that's what I'd do with one more day with you." Diamond Rio</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZ5gONCx4EtS8UWpYT8R3roVnLBvOLd43OnqpKNEwDErHzVlx6eVe0zTt-JaxdA2QHkXYELFp8vGJBRBMAhlpOkwA-5tw6MBLrfhw_fN38QlUxilxW04WQBroNAKmJHBc5-FHySLDkYSmsy1PTFviXbm1KF-tH6DKRGT2XIPuP_nLvPCWqZEWzqeC8A/s1440/59E1C28D-D54C-4030-AB4B-C2D829CDA318.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZ5gONCx4EtS8UWpYT8R3roVnLBvOLd43OnqpKNEwDErHzVlx6eVe0zTt-JaxdA2QHkXYELFp8vGJBRBMAhlpOkwA-5tw6MBLrfhw_fN38QlUxilxW04WQBroNAKmJHBc5-FHySLDkYSmsy1PTFviXbm1KF-tH6DKRGT2XIPuP_nLvPCWqZEWzqeC8A/s320/59E1C28D-D54C-4030-AB4B-C2D829CDA318.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-FthtW1ynw2PYcsNAg7c94Wxc1-fxhV9CQFeBAGXgl9hmt8c-lwDoLb9_R9i4P08FNud_a7UwcEGxKvhia-UUAu7iqze_B_1_P0UBrAfX9jR4_M6byihThcEynC1M23BzBOxzSi8TJDnTZGCmn4N7rjWWn02lFvDZ7674nR2HyiApaeggliWfT7B2g/s1280/6AC4C8D0-93F6-47BE-9D57-590534A572AD.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-FthtW1ynw2PYcsNAg7c94Wxc1-fxhV9CQFeBAGXgl9hmt8c-lwDoLb9_R9i4P08FNud_a7UwcEGxKvhia-UUAu7iqze_B_1_P0UBrAfX9jR4_M6byihThcEynC1M23BzBOxzSi8TJDnTZGCmn4N7rjWWn02lFvDZ7674nR2HyiApaeggliWfT7B2g/s320/6AC4C8D0-93F6-47BE-9D57-590534A572AD.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The first time I heard the Diamond Rio song "One more Day" we were dating and I bawled. I was already worried I would lose him. My poor guy suffered through years and decades of tears about losing him. I always said that I hope we die together. I have had this fear of losing him since I have met him. I am often shocked we made it to twenty years. Each time I am annoyed at him and I hear that song...I let it go...I remember what matters. One more day. One more moment to choose forgiveness. One more moment to love. He is a life that has been given to me to cherish, honour, protect and love. He's my whole world, given to me from the Keeper of the Stars, and gifting me with a new world in my home, with the three babies we made together and loads of memories swirled into our paired existence. I don't see how I could love him more...but I have said that before...</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"I've seen the storm clouds in your past, but rest assured cause you are safe at home at last. I rescued you, you rescued me. And we're right where we should be, when we are together. I know the questions in your mind, but go ahead and ask me one more time. You'll find the answer's still the same, it wont change from day to day for worse or better. Will I promise to be your best friend? And am I here until the end? Can I be sure I have been waiting for you? And did I say my love is true? Baby I will, I am, I can, I have, I do. I know that time will disappear, but this love we're building on will always be here, No way that this is sinking sand on this solid rock we'll stand forever. Baby I will, I am, I can, I have. oh I will, I can, I have...I DO." Paul Brandt</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2DSXqvpfTvOdwubdFcM9i-N-H2X90czLRYGANfCE7jlcGotvKzOPuWBUWDctMB71zWgSgMe3iBaqV9hP1rUZey1vLnnQHIkhc8K86WcSr8FZLK_Lh8Rm6foQs1qFsXSEheCzn5Lzi5cqqid1TVELllxYyrOW0BbP0zRb3o4oiMy4mPCWp0XedbEqWw/s2048/DBBF0D37-21D0-4D4F-9D70-9D37A1D508DA.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2DSXqvpfTvOdwubdFcM9i-N-H2X90czLRYGANfCE7jlcGotvKzOPuWBUWDctMB71zWgSgMe3iBaqV9hP1rUZey1vLnnQHIkhc8K86WcSr8FZLK_Lh8Rm6foQs1qFsXSEheCzn5Lzi5cqqid1TVELllxYyrOW0BbP0zRb3o4oiMy4mPCWp0XedbEqWw/s320/DBBF0D37-21D0-4D4F-9D70-9D37A1D508DA.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNE-61rAyO9pWSuo-y58RQ8FuTLHThYMb_dysqYw76nz8ATI_Zd11DUFan9hs_puO51kBInFKv3OYSrHTqPxITVO1hZzgBqwg9kNANmpNmRZfyzXulvj1MS_jYdMMybPRB5kGL-0W9OTYEt_Gh22bx5eHEkuks3tdpLqVwhwXSc5Eb4PUxMtCVi5awkw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d421.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNE-61rAyO9pWSuo-y58RQ8FuTLHThYMb_dysqYw76nz8ATI_Zd11DUFan9hs_puO51kBInFKv3OYSrHTqPxITVO1hZzgBqwg9kNANmpNmRZfyzXulvj1MS_jYdMMybPRB5kGL-0W9OTYEt_Gh22bx5eHEkuks3tdpLqVwhwXSc5Eb4PUxMtCVi5awkw/s320/fullsizeoutput_d421.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div>I was born with a flair for the dramatic. In my mind, my story has always been an epic tale. I feel love and ordinary moments deeply which means that I also feel collective suffering and pain easy too. I used to hate this about myself. I didn't understand it either. I heard an analogy recently by Joy Clarkson which resonated; "The same capacity that enables me to rejoice so fully makes me vulnerable to the great consuming pain and loss of our world. Some days holding these two worlds inside makes me feel like I have a superpower. I am like a carbon monoxide alarm for the world. yes, the smallest of things can set me off- joyful and sorrowful- but isn' that the point of such a device? What good would an insensitive CO2 alarm be?" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3a7x92ARc5UUh_oDVCZVzvr0XDji6L6ftzSC1cC3KVwdv-eBC3c2XOWz2NXTeSDvRtrr14R016tzDWeXKh8WcBqFVnCgBRQcatvbxCmZW8fIXZjF4CIkQghcvGo9j9HmVYGgBwSZ9O2aabhILDq7Ljk4pkfTDZb9EqZ1PTowuHAK3k1sY3EsR2Q9mjw/s1280/fullsizeoutput_ef43.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3a7x92ARc5UUh_oDVCZVzvr0XDji6L6ftzSC1cC3KVwdv-eBC3c2XOWz2NXTeSDvRtrr14R016tzDWeXKh8WcBqFVnCgBRQcatvbxCmZW8fIXZjF4CIkQghcvGo9j9HmVYGgBwSZ9O2aabhILDq7Ljk4pkfTDZb9EqZ1PTowuHAK3k1sY3EsR2Q9mjw/s320/fullsizeoutput_ef43.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Philip taught me that my sensitivities and differences were a gift from God. He cherished what I struggled with. He laughs when I go off on a dramatic tirade. If I was him I would not have the patience. I live moments of tragedy over and over again and it rips me apart. He stitches me back together with the reminders of the little things I love. I could not ask for more than our time together when my favourite lyrics seep into my soul, the sunshine warms my face, and he is holding me with his familiar muscled arms. I feel safe. I feel like I am actually OK. These are the moments I thank God that I am alive. These are the moments I cherish existence. When I realize I have FOUND all I have waited for.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFIy47GX8OYWqsg11nwOXEhlL-f_VcSTvus1smzlQqGDNZvRw5vZ1g2a_9-LTlnDYAoLWXKyIdyGFfpku_U4ARR_BoQpeAp9UH42ZuRIyy7vQ8IhquxlXzXwy85IVcnZ3l5hvw7CLd-XNzku7HFK9L-UsLrzXKoM2dSHykHj5TwQA8Vwg_3yXvWT8noA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="252" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiFIy47GX8OYWqsg11nwOXEhlL-f_VcSTvus1smzlQqGDNZvRw5vZ1g2a_9-LTlnDYAoLWXKyIdyGFfpku_U4ARR_BoQpeAp9UH42ZuRIyy7vQ8IhquxlXzXwy85IVcnZ3l5hvw7CLd-XNzku7HFK9L-UsLrzXKoM2dSHykHj5TwQA8Vwg_3yXvWT8noA" width="189" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdFZ44FIX1GTUe1spskb-_5zJMzwKBLVyltSzq7kYaDyS8zZdsKyK3rXKQkVW8po3i0AkPtfdVHKkTZslYLJmr9L4YNtr3oumb_qfkAodTkL2x9bxAM8-AIRebI7KnvWLzbT6xAoWknsWNk0suiaJBsh4YpY4y4uyaldmFXnaTImh3YlH-hvuFXY_OA/s1800/18ECECCB-8301-4A82-90D1-915EA8A70F70.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdFZ44FIX1GTUe1spskb-_5zJMzwKBLVyltSzq7kYaDyS8zZdsKyK3rXKQkVW8po3i0AkPtfdVHKkTZslYLJmr9L4YNtr3oumb_qfkAodTkL2x9bxAM8-AIRebI7KnvWLzbT6xAoWknsWNk0suiaJBsh4YpY4y4uyaldmFXnaTImh3YlH-hvuFXY_OA/s320/18ECECCB-8301-4A82-90D1-915EA8A70F70.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"... I've seen the sunset dance...I got real high on Rock N Roll and seen a lot of dreams come true but ain't no moment like when I am holding on to you. Baby all through the years, I've been moved to tears by the wonders of this old world, but one of God's mysteries that never fails to get to me is the moment that I am holding on to you." Miranda Lambert</span></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;"><br /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAcrtVQFGtW1Mqojoe5FCEwSGSxmJvW3vEDQgYMx6Ux2fzrgxCN1-Vtm5p2k08-4E_RyRL2sEh0MZP2Sl5hrtyhk4jYAkwWf62uqBfVOPxv984RDvp5wUHOlqiXIhneZHvaTvzLg9TcnSsraI1PunxsGY_CDkUxGfWMDi2LEyLnKbBxFw5DryQfeW0Ig/s1600/09BE41BD-9614-4C25-A0DC-E5A39CFF6FEB.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAcrtVQFGtW1Mqojoe5FCEwSGSxmJvW3vEDQgYMx6Ux2fzrgxCN1-Vtm5p2k08-4E_RyRL2sEh0MZP2Sl5hrtyhk4jYAkwWf62uqBfVOPxv984RDvp5wUHOlqiXIhneZHvaTvzLg9TcnSsraI1PunxsGY_CDkUxGfWMDi2LEyLnKbBxFw5DryQfeW0Ig/s320/09BE41BD-9614-4C25-A0DC-E5A39CFF6FEB.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxMDttHcvd7U6WL8-48YZLYjpcSRX0kKxBwj9W-cjR9gWTfVEfqSFctHSbmhDMOUQpDMt0qfYFr0Nr2LRa2PDIwSAiHN0TMKxpkAh3SVib1Qpyf9XDnpmyvunVe8h9HUZd44dGuiVz0KGvJex-G0Jq1JuDCQifetPCEtKLu0kf1oT3rN-f0EDIwc98FA/s1600/IMG_4555.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1459" data-original-width="1600" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxMDttHcvd7U6WL8-48YZLYjpcSRX0kKxBwj9W-cjR9gWTfVEfqSFctHSbmhDMOUQpDMt0qfYFr0Nr2LRa2PDIwSAiHN0TMKxpkAh3SVib1Qpyf9XDnpmyvunVe8h9HUZd44dGuiVz0KGvJex-G0Jq1JuDCQifetPCEtKLu0kf1oT3rN-f0EDIwc98FA/s320/IMG_4555.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div>Twenty years. It feels like maybe 7 tops! How did we get here? Where did it go? Part of me knows it went to days of fighting and loving, laughing and crying, holding and dancing, singing and yelling, breaking and redeeming. He often will tell me that he finds me more beautiful than when we first met at 17. I actually believe him. The queen of physical insecurity calms down when I hear him say that. I have always known he is the better looking half in our marriage. I don't mind. Those smile crinkles man! And those bulging biceps and that charming chuckle. I can't compare. So I don't. But he thinks I surpass him and I am fine with fairy tales.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJvgGS_PGzLfz-xxBkrZokLywtnUOIdxqcm57FDiZAoZ_xPBGnEkhgXIPcTeSQ-onvQR-HE7bYNxymYuibbCEZ-WBG-NAcCI1J9tmBgCnZxDxFhBA5JuK6d1Ir9gV5eer9bcwG-zGisA06xN5XmXnorv7nw2u9mExPxpGefdC0it_JHvYsxiBKyaDKA/s1440/F4F77B01-D6D1-4316-A82A-11A4B5AD711E.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzJvgGS_PGzLfz-xxBkrZokLywtnUOIdxqcm57FDiZAoZ_xPBGnEkhgXIPcTeSQ-onvQR-HE7bYNxymYuibbCEZ-WBG-NAcCI1J9tmBgCnZxDxFhBA5JuK6d1Ir9gV5eer9bcwG-zGisA06xN5XmXnorv7nw2u9mExPxpGefdC0it_JHvYsxiBKyaDKA/s320/F4F77B01-D6D1-4316-A82A-11A4B5AD711E.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEireOAgOxscOxsT1VkdHSLEnOC0WBa-9sTPVcDElHOI89WiMO4HJprqrUBo4wzbsDknurfg0N76sW7JTMZ34T1fcAIRniPR2-LsRXB9xGayweDyZ1L2xvjreVT9TWma_RRbNBZZNTyfTg0CLROwPaBUWpLfsKCp01-c0OyVuGkAmQCiro08nnZr0b3Sjg/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cccc.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEireOAgOxscOxsT1VkdHSLEnOC0WBa-9sTPVcDElHOI89WiMO4HJprqrUBo4wzbsDknurfg0N76sW7JTMZ34T1fcAIRniPR2-LsRXB9xGayweDyZ1L2xvjreVT9TWma_RRbNBZZNTyfTg0CLROwPaBUWpLfsKCp01-c0OyVuGkAmQCiro08nnZr0b3Sjg/s320/fullsizeoutput_cccc.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"Has it been (20) years since we said I do? I've always heard marriage made one seem like two, but you're looking better than you did back then. You still make this ol' heart give in. And if I had it to do all over. I'd do all over again. If tomorrow I found more change to begin. I'd love you all over again. " Alan Jackson</span></div><div><br /></div><div>I love him more than yesterday and I hope we still have forever to go.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9b2KeUoqfuYWuMc5g4paAe-fIci9VY_SSn7RhlCPedjFA1PXS1BuskQv0SO4orI0wmbPqSI9JK49_9znIHxYVQDQ5MFhZkVMwugkOeT1wWtm-x6C1S9cH-27UTZ2GnApZNSCSAl8Yit30hDpNzV7UcF4MeKP1boH9oSv5L0Ih0jT5KM1oscxeEx_Zg/s4032/766FC038-793E-47F5-875E-FBA4B357D51A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9b2KeUoqfuYWuMc5g4paAe-fIci9VY_SSn7RhlCPedjFA1PXS1BuskQv0SO4orI0wmbPqSI9JK49_9znIHxYVQDQ5MFhZkVMwugkOeT1wWtm-x6C1S9cH-27UTZ2GnApZNSCSAl8Yit30hDpNzV7UcF4MeKP1boH9oSv5L0Ih0jT5KM1oscxeEx_Zg/s320/766FC038-793E-47F5-875E-FBA4B357D51A.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uUIJmJFmDxB9CmI_gGNr80L5uR36D8MkVZnqDU12XsbacL7oG9c5uStE6lkzcTJYW0lW0kMBXZoBqbJkHgp3fjg5PWNpaNYbn-7s-HMliGlXj-p0AaavxyNThNXjh_QrXBDkvdEQQuk3W-GlPfa9SPgg-U-4lvCKENCH8fW9P7iuO0F3eSRKRxWNuw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d520.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uUIJmJFmDxB9CmI_gGNr80L5uR36D8MkVZnqDU12XsbacL7oG9c5uStE6lkzcTJYW0lW0kMBXZoBqbJkHgp3fjg5PWNpaNYbn-7s-HMliGlXj-p0AaavxyNThNXjh_QrXBDkvdEQQuk3W-GlPfa9SPgg-U-4lvCKENCH8fW9P7iuO0F3eSRKRxWNuw/s320/fullsizeoutput_d520.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"It's in the way you move me, the way you look right through me, still brings me down to my knees every time you smile. And after all this time love, It's still hard to get enough. The very first time I thought you were the one, who'd make all of my dreams come true. I STILL DO. I'm still amazed every time that we kiss. I still do. I'm never gonna stop feeling like this. Like the first time that I feel for you. They all thought we were crazy- sometimes I think they may be right- thinking we live life minus a day." Paul Brandt</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2Gd2tYxCFmO8UFNMs-CQELc1Ru3EkhOfvvjTcHaHRkmIoq-z54KX5n5aavIlZbWDU1NL7LFlgNAuZLb8b46kjqAHQF8mdyGpkrV754Jm8e7OYNfPucbHs1KtN7cOI61MOJkrWo8Olbir78MyWZ2_9iaoFBb2RZGsq5lZWvJwmJ1ObJPXQyXbg-gcXA/s2048/IMG_4250.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2Gd2tYxCFmO8UFNMs-CQELc1Ru3EkhOfvvjTcHaHRkmIoq-z54KX5n5aavIlZbWDU1NL7LFlgNAuZLb8b46kjqAHQF8mdyGpkrV754Jm8e7OYNfPucbHs1KtN7cOI61MOJkrWo8Olbir78MyWZ2_9iaoFBb2RZGsq5lZWvJwmJ1ObJPXQyXbg-gcXA/s320/IMG_4250.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYrwjUymhf4ITXmE9foMQDZrE9P5xjwNqp8vaRf6EhmB5hwpQNrI6rFhLvdI7a_VyaZpOz8hD93iNAQAZ8ogF0ZnVLTVWfzTd22J8-t1Pe5S_7C0NFYhOzgA3f6qlxOS4y1T8XiwRvVhY56jBIjdmPgKh9vxEd7U8gZYvrVa5xVsOIMxUQ2I-6exNCw/s1280/BB418F8B-B8A2-434D-9D91-DFBC2547B952.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYrwjUymhf4ITXmE9foMQDZrE9P5xjwNqp8vaRf6EhmB5hwpQNrI6rFhLvdI7a_VyaZpOz8hD93iNAQAZ8ogF0ZnVLTVWfzTd22J8-t1Pe5S_7C0NFYhOzgA3f6qlxOS4y1T8XiwRvVhY56jBIjdmPgKh9vxEd7U8gZYvrVa5xVsOIMxUQ2I-6exNCw/s320/BB418F8B-B8A2-434D-9D91-DFBC2547B952.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div>On our good days? It's hard to get enough. I want time to pause. My heart still gets my seventeen year old zaps. He gives me some nightmares, but mostly he helps me build dreams. We tend to live life minus a day. We fly by our intuitions and are often unconventional. We are truth tellers which many do not understand nor necessarily like... but we get that about each other. It's one reason I believe we have lasted. We have told the truth of our struggles to love each other but also kept respect utmost. We have truthfully lived our feelings. We have been honest in our communication even when it hurts but we also remind each other to live the GOOD, the BEAUTIFUL and TRUE. For every hard moment or word, we strive to make 5 more good, beautiful ordinary or lived kindness.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"...We were meant to be together and that's why we can roll with the punches, we can stroll hand in hand, and when I say it's forever you understand that you're always in my heart, always on my mind and when it all becomes too much, you're never far behind, and there is no one that comes close to you that can ever take your place, cuz only you can love me this way." Keith Urban</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpMcWOLK4rZGcLRVY7HY2fpEyMRyD94HVLOAZmMsYcivEpbODKf7nXSjwAJI3ECE_UWZEt3uJj7Oi-a1x-wEPNj-zJipKuvDGLNVCeyeNxRlbpXoJ5LGHHTLcKcHuL0sGl2H0JL_JJ0NuqFyEnUNSDhaMQasZcAUFu-L2wd5xJmWP4eejjQrhULLWUg/s2048/fullsizeoutput_e067.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpMcWOLK4rZGcLRVY7HY2fpEyMRyD94HVLOAZmMsYcivEpbODKf7nXSjwAJI3ECE_UWZEt3uJj7Oi-a1x-wEPNj-zJipKuvDGLNVCeyeNxRlbpXoJ5LGHHTLcKcHuL0sGl2H0JL_JJ0NuqFyEnUNSDhaMQasZcAUFu-L2wd5xJmWP4eejjQrhULLWUg/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_e067.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>He is often the face of God to me when I can not see my way through. It's almost like God said, "Here. She sees so much and feels so much but the one thing she struggles to see is her worth. She knows I love her, but she does not ever feel she is worthy...and that is why I brought you to her so early in life. You will have more years together than you will have apart. I have blessed the broken road that has led her straight to you. She will learn my Grace mostly through you. She will learn love. She will become beauty because you will be her mirror. She will find that your cherished love is only a faction of mine and she will finally have moments of understanding." And my heart weeps with gratitude to Ineffable Grace. The Divine embodied in a gift.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"I like the feel of your name on my lips. I like the sound of your sweet gentle kiss. The way that your fingers run through my hair, and how you're scent lingers even when you're not there. I like the way your eyes dance when you laugh..and how you convinced me to dance in the rain, with everyone watching like we were insane but I love the way you love me. Strong and wild, slow and easy, heart and soul, so completely, I love, the way you love me." John Michael Montgomery</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFV3HjOYXx9cpJGae-uARuy-RFHx3oMVJHBWnPa58TWjpxNJCiqF8gvabzWJR8tH7HE7Vtw5vFyJIRnm7cSfkdYZz2lsebNR0mxxqroILy3jjEK8mImNOuJByY6C-3ABNQL87d-KnWn9bTZs-wq1MXuBUX7TRxAYu79Ka0EgtaxSKVdgfgorc-20QHnw/s1280/IMG_4185.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFV3HjOYXx9cpJGae-uARuy-RFHx3oMVJHBWnPa58TWjpxNJCiqF8gvabzWJR8tH7HE7Vtw5vFyJIRnm7cSfkdYZz2lsebNR0mxxqroILy3jjEK8mImNOuJByY6C-3ABNQL87d-KnWn9bTZs-wq1MXuBUX7TRxAYu79Ka0EgtaxSKVdgfgorc-20QHnw/s320/IMG_4185.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKJmnaEkHOVXdvP7UsCGerXQXVR1-6TRVyrOCMIw4NQ1gv3W3OIvSBgp9uhI9t6VGzy2mQboYgTZ8fTmq2htdTH7rgcQLoAeOqLwwZsIjqB88TFSxuvJEOqAyxiflC-1-3lEYJxwFwPNif9PpevSwLXxlAhVn9KgX00Fiy4-OIOCuS5f1hR6GaOL8EQ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_e0e3.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKJmnaEkHOVXdvP7UsCGerXQXVR1-6TRVyrOCMIw4NQ1gv3W3OIvSBgp9uhI9t6VGzy2mQboYgTZ8fTmq2htdTH7rgcQLoAeOqLwwZsIjqB88TFSxuvJEOqAyxiflC-1-3lEYJxwFwPNif9PpevSwLXxlAhVn9KgX00Fiy4-OIOCuS5f1hR6GaOL8EQ/s320/fullsizeoutput_e0e3.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div>On this anniversary of our twentieth spiral, I lift my heart up with gratitude. I am so grateful to be alive with him NOW. I expect more hardships, brokenness and struggles. But if I have been taught one thing it is that beauty and pain are intertwined here on earth. You can not have one without the other. If one can not be embraced or reconciled, the other will not be either. I'm learning to embody them both without apologies or excuses. The beauty is also in the future. There are more sunsets to be stunned by. Moments when I look around my living room and see my eldest son smiling as he builds an ATAT, my daughter giggling at a meme, my youngest strumming his Ukulele and my husband catching my eyes. He knows what I am thinking and we share a smile as our gazes sweep around the room. We can not get enough of this EVERYDAY LOVE.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhec5HtsdnhXfEXWhepaXrcZzZd3HjJVtZNGlCbTp0J-LjfQmcDkv9wixk78Pxx1RtK1HSveow3JCAUQtaWiDBIA_1kB68Ss7TBKkq4IiPq45TuVVoKHNMh-98i1Lxvl34P-VaZvniG-VNUf2kFTqc0VMv9lEPoDkhzkygLYKw7Uu-DpzXltaNhzk9d2w" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhec5HtsdnhXfEXWhepaXrcZzZd3HjJVtZNGlCbTp0J-LjfQmcDkv9wixk78Pxx1RtK1HSveow3JCAUQtaWiDBIA_1kB68Ss7TBKkq4IiPq45TuVVoKHNMh-98i1Lxvl34P-VaZvniG-VNUf2kFTqc0VMv9lEPoDkhzkygLYKw7Uu-DpzXltaNhzk9d2w=w240-h320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8e5qyRehmOzMkteQXoq_QH5sSZm6ob_3lNVaMuVqxCY884MjhxcHTW-vq33nyLZliPtm7nUlu2NK0lTL81-VkWwsyF7pwaA741ZdabUUYHjPbGhK3jcgDxCfakanNqL8rnegWMxtQ6D6LAj48nShdZZmRtZ0znkatbWlo-D_WF0kUZoo82Ruckngb8A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8e5qyRehmOzMkteQXoq_QH5sSZm6ob_3lNVaMuVqxCY884MjhxcHTW-vq33nyLZliPtm7nUlu2NK0lTL81-VkWwsyF7pwaA741ZdabUUYHjPbGhK3jcgDxCfakanNqL8rnegWMxtQ6D6LAj48nShdZZmRtZ0znkatbWlo-D_WF0kUZoo82Ruckngb8A=w240-h320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">"You just get better all the time. Darling, don't you change a thing. Lately you're the only song I want to sing. You're my reason to try. You just get sweeter every day. The little things you do and say. If only you could see you through my eyes. You just get better all the time. Oh and I get the feeling we can make it babe, as long as you are by my side, you're the music in my ears, the laughter when the tears are falling down through my life." Tim Mcgraw</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaROLaW9MfiqUoAPlAdlmXiewUcUn1kx6Sby7jE_A5hQ_L2JXq4PEGojVor0xAbOO1UB_taXxd2UGyFxEzVWa6DxmbZMclzimSzru0yrLoRJRHo4a59TaROVqKeeVqrtWPnEvdRay46vNvIjVa1bCyX8_-7boIK8MRIgY5N33Scgy367KfOUGUmmBNNw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgaROLaW9MfiqUoAPlAdlmXiewUcUn1kx6Sby7jE_A5hQ_L2JXq4PEGojVor0xAbOO1UB_taXxd2UGyFxEzVWa6DxmbZMclzimSzru0yrLoRJRHo4a59TaROVqKeeVqrtWPnEvdRay46vNvIjVa1bCyX8_-7boIK8MRIgY5N33Scgy367KfOUGUmmBNNw" width="180" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmy_ULdsemRL8433sgdSkYw25eQF8nsIJ-zNhyKr_E7QNndjJkUZpKL9JnzUN7KXeNhW5fxsoMs8eKHwaBe7G1aUP8uL8aHKiLSD3WgZKSG0pv1yictbpGUBokI6y-r1bf_UWEX31wu_VQOEK728LH2FBBJaTAQYUuntr7rJvqDrZSMI8cRvAL6-eTdg/s1280/IMG_2156.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmy_ULdsemRL8433sgdSkYw25eQF8nsIJ-zNhyKr_E7QNndjJkUZpKL9JnzUN7KXeNhW5fxsoMs8eKHwaBe7G1aUP8uL8aHKiLSD3WgZKSG0pv1yictbpGUBokI6y-r1bf_UWEX31wu_VQOEK728LH2FBBJaTAQYUuntr7rJvqDrZSMI8cRvAL6-eTdg/s320/IMG_2156.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxIdid3fg_sE2vb0Y4lhdGaCEyM9U7PCNixVFHgaCN-TI4GsGVUjEBk8tHzETrWkYyiTtrwBYPxS-Mozgn4Vd29_gYLx5DH5iG4oJQwuvmc3BGqtdop4y2Mqnwew-zGdbd_ThbdBjMVq6ziR5Twn2rUbn3r8l2rVeLp3de6TUsJSPG04_SHSr4X2qgXw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxIdid3fg_sE2vb0Y4lhdGaCEyM9U7PCNixVFHgaCN-TI4GsGVUjEBk8tHzETrWkYyiTtrwBYPxS-Mozgn4Vd29_gYLx5DH5iG4oJQwuvmc3BGqtdop4y2Mqnwew-zGdbd_ThbdBjMVq6ziR5Twn2rUbn3r8l2rVeLp3de6TUsJSPG04_SHSr4X2qgXw" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIpR8UndXV-dlYMvvsxQO-FKotaYw5qRKFUvAOQke23fGtCp2yCJfqDe4x-LJchPUP-D8nIV4v4j1rIxF9q7R1-fWzHEPkN8qMyA5KUG0w_Gpl1r5rjNEm2TvXooUU22n-FXcdhszD_TXTn4urUdwvPbFQmNnj-ydDxLHesyHAKvdeNoxVwccIxm-7LA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIpR8UndXV-dlYMvvsxQO-FKotaYw5qRKFUvAOQke23fGtCp2yCJfqDe4x-LJchPUP-D8nIV4v4j1rIxF9q7R1-fWzHEPkN8qMyA5KUG0w_Gpl1r5rjNEm2TvXooUU22n-FXcdhszD_TXTn4urUdwvPbFQmNnj-ydDxLHesyHAKvdeNoxVwccIxm-7LA" width="180" /></a></div></span></div><br /><br /></div><div>Philip, You are the main song I have been gifted to sing. Our love is the same old, same old, keeping it new. Yet, I can not get enough of our lyrics set to the song of life. I love the daily phone calls when I hear your voice. The voice that grounds me and enables me to find my own. I wish you could see you through my eyes. You are my hero and also the one I often have to pick up by the bootstraps. You say I am your spiritual compass and you are my physical one...and mostly that's true...but sometimes I realize I have learned many spiritual truths through loving you. You're my best friend but more so, my soul mate. I know those do not come along often in life and I am so glad my eyes were opened enough to SEE you and that you saw me. I recognize something eternal when I look into your gray blue eyes. Thank you for twenty of the hardest and loveliest years of my life. Baby I will, I am, I can, I have, I still DO. xoxoxo Yours Kissa</div><div><br /></div><div><p><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For a post written this Valentines Day from my daughter and how she views how my husband loves me ( along with a home made video she made of some of our highlights that you can watch with password) <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2022/02/guest-post-like-my-father-loves-my-mom.html" target="_blank">Click HERE:https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2022/02/guest-post-like-my-father-loves-my-mom.html</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Songs referenced in the post (click for the beautiful lyrical song links):</div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=81on1ZFE63w" target="_blank">Then- Brad Paisley</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QiHMkiPGlv4" target="_blank">Still The One- Shania Twain</a></div><div><br /></div><div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QiHMkiPGlv4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTA2buWlNyM" target="_blank">Remember When- Alan Jackson</a></div><div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pLsekVHm0C4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_iofUEQeBsY" target="_blank">When I said I do- Clint Black</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XDTSbXUzfI" target="_blank">Keeper of the Stars- Tracy Byrd</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQQMJ2u6fGE" target="_blank">It's Your Love- Faith Hill and Tim McGraw</a></div><div><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vQQMJ2u6fGE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RX2Q5HG69lg" target="_blank">Me and You- Kenney Chesney</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBr4M0FkZhU" target="_blank">One More Day- Diamond Rio</a></div><div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JBr4M0FkZhU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HZ1bDTeb46E" target="_blank">I Do- Paul Brandt</a></div><div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HZ1bDTeb46E" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DsYHw73jRpY" target="_blank">Holding On to You- Miranda Lambert</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQ2ovYwXSDY" target="_blank">I'd Love you All Over Again- Alan Jackson</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YxBy3-HdhM" target="_blank">Only You Can Love Me This Way- Keith Urban</a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3_LKJUWGLA" target="_blank">I love the way you love me- John Michael Montgomery</a></div><div>I Still Do- Paul Brandt</div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8lbTvqK0TU" target="_blank">You Just Get Better All the Time- Tim McGraw</a></div><div><br /></div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/S8lbTvqK0TU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-43752103403495641752022-06-15T12:46:00.023-07:002022-09-13T10:39:07.995-07:00Receiving My Canadian Certification of Indian Status; A Heritage and Ancestry Celebration<p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhllH0Df8GcuUAhDzFJ6w4oxocgG401IWUUNJ9l8yD2c-M7k-kzCQFwMkwzgXnhXWx8lIIIoT3ozTGa5nu0Dd8GtvwPpG8XzTgNt-NLh6yHhc-CmKg-zJPUBidZdi97o2vwTtPuCU8WM2AjX68MHn1XvfrzNbCygrx7UJWorKZL0vRKOE2QOltqIpov2Q/s4032/1D6CD65D-B85D-46F4-8954-C240F182E9AB.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhllH0Df8GcuUAhDzFJ6w4oxocgG401IWUUNJ9l8yD2c-M7k-kzCQFwMkwzgXnhXWx8lIIIoT3ozTGa5nu0Dd8GtvwPpG8XzTgNt-NLh6yHhc-CmKg-zJPUBidZdi97o2vwTtPuCU8WM2AjX68MHn1XvfrzNbCygrx7UJWorKZL0vRKOE2QOltqIpov2Q/s320/1D6CD65D-B85D-46F4-8954-C240F182E9AB.jpeg" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />I wasn’t going to share this, due to misconceptions, judgements and opinions. But there is something to the poetry of BEING that is meant to be shared, despite all of that harsher reality. It’s worth it. Now, l</span>et's get the boring political jargon and myths out of the way before my celebratory post:<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_L0mKDJKrCWuqDMG4tvnOj6HX7Bgi58XG03Dz47Byflizlb0V6icv_bjCCiixBZPb-XXPGAZcEFKeztl0v0kB6--wf49wUzh9HIJz1_4Kq92QLRSvIn538P7GH8VKJ6svKsIjswDhpvGjnjbBW2OKAnDf58M86L447Oiems7haHypHoZeJ0l-RElwQ/s4032/01C33C18-5EB7-4FD6-9B42-DB5E21F393EA.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_L0mKDJKrCWuqDMG4tvnOj6HX7Bgi58XG03Dz47Byflizlb0V6icv_bjCCiixBZPb-XXPGAZcEFKeztl0v0kB6--wf49wUzh9HIJz1_4Kq92QLRSvIn538P7GH8VKJ6svKsIjswDhpvGjnjbBW2OKAnDf58M86L447Oiems7haHypHoZeJ0l-RElwQ/s320/01C33C18-5EB7-4FD6-9B42-DB5E21F393EA.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>(My husbands gift to me for this celebration) <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMssLxyZSs07qhkKM1VLJNa3lMd9bNItFiA2h9LlQbDWAO-6GN7mdpvww1ZQgrQD9M1F7ULXxDe0X66pU_IYBQLQ6kn44B4EKvTkUTceIAQ3FL543XuzEw2hvl0KWJTmIv0na_SKNZmp0c8AorIjmbY1afeQLD_EtMvfugfYjLA-_6ATmu46S3Cwx6Rw/s4032/766FC038-793E-47F5-875E-FBA4B357D51A.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMssLxyZSs07qhkKM1VLJNa3lMd9bNItFiA2h9LlQbDWAO-6GN7mdpvww1ZQgrQD9M1F7ULXxDe0X66pU_IYBQLQ6kn44B4EKvTkUTceIAQ3FL543XuzEw2hvl0KWJTmIv0na_SKNZmp0c8AorIjmbY1afeQLD_EtMvfugfYjLA-_6ATmu46S3Cwx6Rw/s320/766FC038-793E-47F5-875E-FBA4B357D51A.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p> **Note on terms: "Indian Status" is what the Government of Canada terms my card due to the treaty. Currently, I know that "Indigenous" is a preferred term. Some of my relatives are all about the terms, while others could not care less. My Grandpa is one of the latter. From an early age he taught me that it is not the words themselves but the way they are stated in, or the love, respect or dignity (or lack thereof) within context given. He has been slurred with the word "Indian" and he has been honoured by the word "Indian." He taught me, when I was a wee one in the early eighties, to be proud of the term. "First Nations" became larger a term as I grew up, followed by "Native," followed by "Aboriginal," and now "Indigenous." I have written about vocabulary on terms based on my Autism diagnosis<a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2020/06/an-analogy-of-my-experience-in-autism.html" target="_blank"> Click HERE.</a> I feel the same mentality applies. This blog is my home and I am comfortable using the terms interchangeably based on my personal history. I believe each of them has been used for harm but also for good, depending on the person behind the words. I am personally honoured to have each term applied to myself. If you carry wounds from these words, please translate them to words that cause less pain for yourself, but know that I am saying them from a place of empowerment, honouring, and personal heritage. ** </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQel8ND35R-oCdmEK4AU3VP82Se_NWbd9E385ZW9GA-E6MQx3MDOkfD0soaPPyYxKfzUk5D82IpfiyEgYHg6AqY8WhMWvA54JUMe7Pbl35mxl5d5Liydw3KOtc-j4qXnKCTxJIPxd4WoKKrsu-6UenGtTMmWWaY7VRH-xSqN9jPUUeqSuJr4U4r4A3g/s4032/A4E8EFBC-2501-4DFD-B5BE-03C965F095BA.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWQel8ND35R-oCdmEK4AU3VP82Se_NWbd9E385ZW9GA-E6MQx3MDOkfD0soaPPyYxKfzUk5D82IpfiyEgYHg6AqY8WhMWvA54JUMe7Pbl35mxl5d5Liydw3KOtc-j4qXnKCTxJIPxd4WoKKrsu-6UenGtTMmWWaY7VRH-xSqN9jPUUeqSuJr4U4r4A3g/s320/A4E8EFBC-2501-4DFD-B5BE-03C965F095BA.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>**Note on the myths of benefits: I do not live on a reserve, neither do most of my relatives that carry status cards. The government does count my status to give to the band I am registered with, to determine the benefits for that reserve, however where I live, there are not many benefits (if any). No, we do not just get free university. No, we do not all have tax free lives (it does not affect me at all.) The one benefit I have besides border crossing more easily (which I do not really need) is some prescriptions covered (which I have not used in years.) Here is an article on this before any assumptions are made on what I do or do not deserve: <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/indigenous/indian-status-5-more-things-you-need-to-know-1.3109451" target="_blank">https://www.cbc.ca/news/indigenous/indian-status-5-more-things-you-need-to-know-1.3109451</a> So, if I do not receive benefits, why is it important to me? Why did I apply? Well, that is answered in my post below. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2Jet5IU7raK_LYS7ZCxGir6I7ZftavT_J931nf5vJ50yMjZDCAuDDqgg-Q7z9fzCjcsRHuwkpZvTmMFnBAtxz1WzAUTBDFXp4biB1ntjAXTkM8PTVDUshrisNFHj3xaS0rTDZOERChKFhLPDqmd2GCZ6HUdv_clKKLhE8iqcWiGp6CQE3dN4QkJ8w_A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2Jet5IU7raK_LYS7ZCxGir6I7ZftavT_J931nf5vJ50yMjZDCAuDDqgg-Q7z9fzCjcsRHuwkpZvTmMFnBAtxz1WzAUTBDFXp4biB1ntjAXTkM8PTVDUshrisNFHj3xaS0rTDZOERChKFhLPDqmd2GCZ6HUdv_clKKLhE8iqcWiGp6CQE3dN4QkJ8w_A" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlQPfdkF0mkffPxXUcx8z4hPVbJmaC8UdsASLy-jnZnUrhVBrITM6ulNx2RqICnluXgiXRHkEqWXX1o3GZlyiWBzVgScsTUHdfvgBsUPFfEpFL36_ZdresIdSInwFHH3OfsgL1_9l4d8wGcF0G-hygkheMe067LQlbYJNmyMdhvuYFlcoP1WPL9Wjjqg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2639" data-original-width="1662" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlQPfdkF0mkffPxXUcx8z4hPVbJmaC8UdsASLy-jnZnUrhVBrITM6ulNx2RqICnluXgiXRHkEqWXX1o3GZlyiWBzVgScsTUHdfvgBsUPFfEpFL36_ZdresIdSInwFHH3OfsgL1_9l4d8wGcF0G-hygkheMe067LQlbYJNmyMdhvuYFlcoP1WPL9Wjjqg" width="151" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>***<p></p><p>What does it mean to embrace a heritage, if one is the true definition of a Canadian: A mosiac of varied histories, legacies and nations? As I wrote in <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2021/09/canadas-true-north-gandalfs-advice-to.html" target="_blank">THIS (click)</a> post about being Canadian: "<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I belong to this land. I have cherished its freedom. I am proud that my ancestor from Spain drove cattle from Mexico into the heart of Caribou County. I have often wondered, when I was in the heart of the mountains, if my Indigenous ancestors from the Secwepemc/ Shuswap nation traversed similar paths. I am thankful that my German, Danish, English and Romanian ancestors on the other side of my family tree, found their freedom when they were being persecuted in their home countries. They dug roots so that my down home could run deep. They celebrated that their country allowed for the freedoms of worship, community, health rights, and autonomy. They built up generations for the place I now call home. " </span>(For more on the personal Indigenous/ Spanish history of my Grandpa T. Click <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2016/01/roots-and-grandparents-grandpa-t.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>) </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZNl1p4Vxvb8LjUqJt5_-LO73JAURhmVTZrf33tXFEDzsMN2Hwh5a3Wpq4cZykUgeDlI3ZsYYe8hPoi71BuvEeII1-OW4uZjGfXul7kH3IM2RqPVelN3eXRNzlqw5vO0QdYuz-JBwH22MbVmw0Zr9igdjzDEgpHEqnEucVgSLLIdAyWUuIBLEvRkoGMw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="259" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZNl1p4Vxvb8LjUqJt5_-LO73JAURhmVTZrf33tXFEDzsMN2Hwh5a3Wpq4cZykUgeDlI3ZsYYe8hPoi71BuvEeII1-OW4uZjGfXul7kH3IM2RqPVelN3eXRNzlqw5vO0QdYuz-JBwH22MbVmw0Zr9igdjzDEgpHEqnEucVgSLLIdAyWUuIBLEvRkoGMw" width="194" /></a></div><br />If I could, I would love to live on the land of each of my ancestral blood ties. I love learning about each of the histories and tracing back as far as I can, into the shared hardships and joys of the different ancestors in my genetic line. It is a crucial part of <i>BEING.</i> Just like my<i> Autism </i>diagnosis was a crucial part of discovering myself, or my MBTI of <i>INFJ.</i> Having my Status card is another piece to the glorious <i>BEING</i> of <i>ME,</i> shaped by generations before. However, just like INFJ or Autistic, these terms do not explain the <i>WHOLE </i>of myself. Genetics ARE important for many aspects of living in health and family, but they are not the <i>END STATEMENT</i>. Family is not only blood, but those who <i>CHOOSE </i>to love. Health is not just genetics but also choices. Complexity is in<i> BEING.</i> There are so many facets. That stated, each layer of self discovery, and honouring roots, adds beauty to life.<div><br /><p></p><p>***</p><p>This year has been so full of change, grief, and joy that I almost forgot I had applied. I had given it a brief thought a few weeks ago, wishing that I had my status when I was filling out a form, just so I could honour my Grandfather's roots and state,"Yes, that is in my history." But I couldn't and I promptly was swept away with daily life details. Until yesterday, when my husband walked into my bedroom humming a Native trill that my Grandpa used to sing while he patted my back as a baby, and waving a letter. His face shone with excitement and immediately I <i>KNEW</i>. My sense of home shifted once again. I did not think I could feel more at home, but a settled rootedness grew in an instant of confirmation, before I could even rip open the letter...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhw3EojJm-pDsPIfnYtUrlBQXd920vKXMvdahUGGFu52sV8W6q_xo2up6khB66qAzmCA__rMI774WK_nQUJQwYswqeqOibdx9xg9FagKB4dMqb6r3KPD7FecnSFk4KTKOt3vdWs2fIdIrvrQlW9SymuMielgq69PmKm6Bge5V22BoBmRDxDCXb10Yu63g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhw3EojJm-pDsPIfnYtUrlBQXd920vKXMvdahUGGFu52sV8W6q_xo2up6khB66qAzmCA__rMI774WK_nQUJQwYswqeqOibdx9xg9FagKB4dMqb6r3KPD7FecnSFk4KTKOt3vdWs2fIdIrvrQlW9SymuMielgq69PmKm6Bge5V22BoBmRDxDCXb10Yu63g" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p>***</p><p>Blood ties appeal to my mystical soul (herbalist/ folklorist/ and nature based, which I call fondly 'witchy' due to my love of all things <i>Harry Potter </i>and <i>Broadway's Wicked.) I am</i> the one who loves nature and feels deep ties to the land. My spirituality has always been connected to nature. God is in every speck. I knew God before I could speak. I <i>FELT Divinity</i> playing in my Grandmother's yard and watching the flowers sway. Before my Christian upbringing combined with my Mystical upbringing gave me words, I had an inner <i>KNOWING. </i>It was easy for me to accept a God I could not see, because I saw and adored the Creation. Talking with others on the topic, I have found my way of seeing the world was not as common as I thought. There were outdoorsy people (which I am NOT) and then there were lovers of nature like me...(See <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2021/05/in-golden-afternoon-contentment-where.html" target="_blank">THIS </a>post for more on my love of nature.) I spent much of my childhood on the lands near my band's reserve. My Grandpa would take me on hikes in the forrest to pick Saskatoon berries and blueberries (still some of my favourites!) As I wrote <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2016/01/roots-and-grandparents-grandpa-t.html" target="_blank">HERE (click)</a>:<span style="background-color: #fff7dc; color: #222222; font-family: Corsiva; font-size: 18px;">Half of my life growing up I spent at each of my grandparents' houses for the summers in the Cariboo Mountains. Grandpa would take me into the forest and give me instructions on bear safety and the sounds of the forest- most of which I have unfortunately forgotten but some rules stuck. As we trudged up the path, me weary and him bursting with energy, he would stop and point out waterfalls and flowers. The man who would kill to eat, stepped aside to not crush a flower. "Missy, a good person won't leave an imprint in the forest they travel, unless it's to mark their path." He would break twigs off to show me how to know where I have been while looking forward to where I should go. My favourite part was when we'd see the orange/ red peeking out from the grass. Indian Paintbrush. They symbolized Grandpa T. to me. I'd rush over and exclaim, "Grandpa, I found Indian Paintbrush!" He would crouch down and touch the pretty flower weed. "This is fire just like your ancestors. They understood that each living thing is a gift of creation. Each living thing possess the breath God breathed to create." Occasionally he would allow me to pick one and take it home. Grandma would put it in a pretty vase and serve me cookies as I stared at the fiery passion of nature, grateful for my roots.</span></p><p>***</p><p>A few weeks before he died last October, my brother in law freely took my picture for my application for Status. I was awkward. He, of course, was smooth and charming, so he tried to make me feel at ease with his smile. He told me he read up on it and I was not supposed to smile. As I was walking out, he asked me to inform him if I received my status. I knew he was probably just being polite, but I made a mental note to inform him regardless. Unfortunately, I can not thank him personally once again and tell him I received it. However, I believe in the spiral dances of life. Part of my process oddly carried my husband's German ancestry. His relative was part of the process. That feels a bit more WHOLE.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyNMn07BsMs17j3ypOmYTy4A7q7F6TAbAeTwmYi6gG5pZcwsVFURFZ3JJKu4iHXY-ew9X76FbYpZ0AaWqSQ0NbuVtxlPbNVNZ4wRU7R-O8uHsHcSR17ENlFCTI1EMWG9KmB3nr19JfjkeMpG-TOr1tQPCgQRqfTs_JbIDqFCeakqgv02cc85fdr4w95A/s1280/6AC4C8D0-93F6-47BE-9D57-590534A572AD.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyNMn07BsMs17j3ypOmYTy4A7q7F6TAbAeTwmYi6gG5pZcwsVFURFZ3JJKu4iHXY-ew9X76FbYpZ0AaWqSQ0NbuVtxlPbNVNZ4wRU7R-O8uHsHcSR17ENlFCTI1EMWG9KmB3nr19JfjkeMpG-TOr1tQPCgQRqfTs_JbIDqFCeakqgv02cc85fdr4w95A/s320/6AC4C8D0-93F6-47BE-9D57-590534A572AD.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>***</p><p>My Auntie Donna died a few years ago. She had her Status and always wanted me to get mine. I had applied in my early twenties but the paternal/ maternal laws were different and I was denied. When the laws switched to honour maternal, with my extended family's encouragement and my brother's print offs, I re applied. Honestly, it's a lot of work, as anyone who deals with forms and red tape can attest to, and part of me did not feel like doing the work again only to be denied. </p><p>***</p><p><i>PRESENCE</i>. My aunt had a presence and part of her essence was driven by her deep love of our Native roots. She knew more about that aspect of our history, and was more attached to our relatives on the reserves. Pre internet, she was constantly researching the background of our original tribe. My Aunt has been on my mind more so than when she first passed away. This last year I have had moments of grief so strong, in random places, remembering her. Recently, we attended an event where a lady sang, "Love Can Build a Bridge." She sounded just like The Judds. I stopped her afterwards and with choked up tears I stated, "You sang beautifully. I felt like my Aunt was sitting beside me. She loved that song and the Judds whom you sounded like. She passed away recently, but I felt her tonight. Thank you." Part of why I applied again, was because of my Auntie Donna. The spiral has circled back and I am incorporating her legacy and Spirit into my own dance of life. I wish I could show her my card. She would have been so excited. I partially re applied because of her. (Click <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2018/03/life-as-music-and-comfort-death-of-my.html" target="_blank">HERE </a>for her tribute post.) <span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">My Grandmother, who also recently passed away, also wished this for me and I sent sparks of gratitude to heaven for her part in my story.</span></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc95f-IeVfufI0ahQ15aUYD_3IYS1VSIWH2b8DO8gQVM67UBNdQoimNquU4GyDmkN28QZ7pg3saCpSA5PBF8xSDzDmPgK7sEnafw-36GkBUnaCE52qMM_ERvQoMhf1DK9di3EATjaDRM0fKFuIjMaU8sEJFCHD1lHXv5eEbF0SdYixyXEdqXdZSQDAyg/s2500/9F183BE6-3999-440F-8E08-32ECB106F6D0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2386" data-original-width="2500" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc95f-IeVfufI0ahQ15aUYD_3IYS1VSIWH2b8DO8gQVM67UBNdQoimNquU4GyDmkN28QZ7pg3saCpSA5PBF8xSDzDmPgK7sEnafw-36GkBUnaCE52qMM_ERvQoMhf1DK9di3EATjaDRM0fKFuIjMaU8sEJFCHD1lHXv5eEbF0SdYixyXEdqXdZSQDAyg/s320/9F183BE6-3999-440F-8E08-32ECB106F6D0.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div><p>***</p><p>A few years ago, an Anthropologist/Archeologist was visiting our home to speak at one of our 'Called to Questions' (a monthly gathering where we invite professors from Universities/Tradespeople passionate about their topics etc. to present and enter into dialogue with invited guests.) We conversed on the topic of being Canadian, and what that means. I told her a bit of my history and how I was debating on re applying but felt guilty because I was not full blooded Indigenous. She surprised me with her passion, "It is actually your <i>DUTY</i> to try again. Even if you carry a speck that the government acknowledges, it is a priority to show them the many people of their country who carry these ancient bloodlines. These peoples who lived on this land are integral to our being... many of which helped us to survive here. I study various cultures and have headed up many digs. I especially loved being with the Natives of Nicaragua. From my standpoint, it is not only a duty, but an honour to be able to have ties to the land you walk upon and to state it and show proof of it to those who doubt. I strongly encourage you to re apply." </p><p>***</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKMTyw0XJBY6Eq_8RlepF4HS5TW1kAPMdAeSfFE2dULQdHcprE0a_9mWJbuW4i4D7RA7df7SN2uP3J0_DJmp5ORtfduwknyqBWOHEZ8mLi4gYKEB4kQoVDBDB-hyzKSYwJW9VX5nzOn9mUFQxkP0nKk-LMZveR1HIZbmMYClEn2Xifl_ZxI5_NfU3Pg/s4032/9293DA3D-393D-4E6A-9486-F4CD7F2E6C5B.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKMTyw0XJBY6Eq_8RlepF4HS5TW1kAPMdAeSfFE2dULQdHcprE0a_9mWJbuW4i4D7RA7df7SN2uP3J0_DJmp5ORtfduwknyqBWOHEZ8mLi4gYKEB4kQoVDBDB-hyzKSYwJW9VX5nzOn9mUFQxkP0nKk-LMZveR1HIZbmMYClEn2Xifl_ZxI5_NfU3Pg/s320/9293DA3D-393D-4E6A-9486-F4CD7F2E6C5B.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_tMVWL-zaoZIFQCrkv025q559oFMq0zFUtEBnQUbg3keiQgHXU-u3lSPiiZu7k4HpLXJ759cjohms9NNGAd7hii7WErRKkrCcjwiGP8-fZX2CwM5c6OppcWlAZa9lMBS8CkZXGvrr_fCB2WPttXEDQTQ9ezugZqit2OXKdgwr6n1XtmIbx8pkwNjadg/s4032/FA8E6334-F73B-49C4-910A-F9824D8AB3D4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_tMVWL-zaoZIFQCrkv025q559oFMq0zFUtEBnQUbg3keiQgHXU-u3lSPiiZu7k4HpLXJ759cjohms9NNGAd7hii7WErRKkrCcjwiGP8-fZX2CwM5c6OppcWlAZa9lMBS8CkZXGvrr_fCB2WPttXEDQTQ9ezugZqit2OXKdgwr6n1XtmIbx8pkwNjadg/s320/FA8E6334-F73B-49C4-910A-F9824D8AB3D4.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />A few months later, I was conversing with my adopted Aunt on my husband's side who is fully Indigenous, I asked her if it would bother her at all...since I clearly have many other bloodlines within me. We had a beautiful conversation but I can recall her saying something akin to, "It's a part of you. I can feel the connection we share of the love of nature. I recognize this in you. I would never hold it against you if you applied. I would celebrate it." And yesterday, when I texted her...she did.<p></p><p>***</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicjoIqjQawiCYr2s7KEVcFWkbptPUzTnkbCM0TxMdd8gsQoID6ncMYEl8yC5LYSi1tn4Qaa9RwA2yQ201znBDlxqWuRgJS3OIbN4SV1fMtsHu12JfiNF43VGx4B-xr9cep57LX4S7ot9NUCUyCWoubBKOCS7tHBpDW_6XLnpWP-chBPYCptDVhK_OMcQ/s4032/240C308A-AA32-4A68-9B65-63B8FA5DBE30.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicjoIqjQawiCYr2s7KEVcFWkbptPUzTnkbCM0TxMdd8gsQoID6ncMYEl8yC5LYSi1tn4Qaa9RwA2yQ201znBDlxqWuRgJS3OIbN4SV1fMtsHu12JfiNF43VGx4B-xr9cep57LX4S7ot9NUCUyCWoubBKOCS7tHBpDW_6XLnpWP-chBPYCptDVhK_OMcQ/s320/240C308A-AA32-4A68-9B65-63B8FA5DBE30.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Canadas National Indigenous Peoples Day is June 21. The mystic in me loves that this is also<a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2020/06/home-being-canadian-summer-solstice.html" target="_blank"> Summer Solstice/ Litha.</a> (click.) Our family loves to mark the seasons. This year my spiritual worlds collide on this day. I love marking the moon and discovering new names for the moon from the T’exelcemc is even more special. </p><p>***</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTrojit4-90CH39-7kwMYdWc_qmqDPOBrYmmk-48tGYr4RCpfK5JQD5X6wkmWYajJANaboAzmTxzE60n7Zm6wRPxWbpeSImONBqdgBTMamuggJyBInflsMm4wQedI2278syC4cN_dGSeG0sVR8ZSfAq2VPZFpCPzODMl_YNR3ldvZIKTmPxN4Prz05A/s4032/75CCF671-D4D5-4BF9-AAEF-6ECB3FAD0872.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSTrojit4-90CH39-7kwMYdWc_qmqDPOBrYmmk-48tGYr4RCpfK5JQD5X6wkmWYajJANaboAzmTxzE60n7Zm6wRPxWbpeSImONBqdgBTMamuggJyBInflsMm4wQedI2278syC4cN_dGSeG0sVR8ZSfAq2VPZFpCPzODMl_YNR3ldvZIKTmPxN4Prz05A/s320/75CCF671-D4D5-4BF9-AAEF-6ECB3FAD0872.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />These are some of the myriad of reasons I teared up when my Status card arrived. This is why I texted anyone I could think of to celebrate. Most did not bother to acknowledge the beauty in it, but the friends and family who did, <i>KNEW</i>. They <i>KNEW </i>my history, my bonds, my spirituality and their statements of congrats or acknowledgement, whispered understanding, community and connection into my soul. Spiralling into my heart's dance, their voices combined. They are a part of my status too. They are a part of my journey and rooted belonging. On and off, the entire day I felt like I was walking on clouds. I felt euphoric. I felt immense gratitude for belonging, peoples, land, earth and sky. The landscape of <i>ABUNDANCE.</i> I felt closer to God. I was reminded I am still <i>BECOMING. There are more layers to my story, but this is one. This is important. This is me.</i><p></p><p>I felt belonging.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHWgRGNCDaPpi4huDb-URcYyqYuxplTM2pPWSIqBI5F1JUpM6kZXe2r66cmSBbXX7RVIt0N51TrLpA8J-c1yzq7TFqU5_S3xIXMbpqpwr_vrfwr84AH4XSweld977Vqy_HzqGAg6bzc01ub75hMjZGuUAPOyHrGL2BAtzmLqp_riqdGHPGUz2qHXZQA/s1280/ECD08383-3DEF-47A2-A55A-AABFC4285745.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHWgRGNCDaPpi4huDb-URcYyqYuxplTM2pPWSIqBI5F1JUpM6kZXe2r66cmSBbXX7RVIt0N51TrLpA8J-c1yzq7TFqU5_S3xIXMbpqpwr_vrfwr84AH4XSweld977Vqy_HzqGAg6bzc01ub75hMjZGuUAPOyHrGL2BAtzmLqp_riqdGHPGUz2qHXZQA/s320/ECD08383-3DEF-47A2-A55A-AABFC4285745.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyK4N0xwRVwi7Tea1MCaecl782Szp8Qt307s3dSGhftqP1NpsDYh-QGA8KRaJSl58wC4Rj9fLfg8i9FJ7oLldYEr4hKJxGjh_7NT38NFAuS8mWb9FS6gGlV8zUz0GRrh3K2PTTpZirsmA/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Post ADDITION : I actually do get one benefit- it turns out my dental is almost all covered- even though I do not live on a reserve- which is amazing as I have terrible teeth and no insurance so now that saves me my teeth and a ton of money!!! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Song Choice: My husband loves this because it's his Viking roots mixed with Native American songs...lol he also played me "<i>Indian Outlaw</i>" which is probably considered culturally inappropriate today but it did remind me of the nineties when I loved the fact that our culture was mentioned in a country song! I loved the beat...so yes, I'm guilty of throwing my head back laughing and dancing along with it in celebration with my family! And of course, anyone who knows me, knows my love of the song "<i>Colours of the Wind"</i> which I have sung to my children for 19 years at bedtime. I<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"> </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: left;">loved Disney's Pocahontas as a child, and still do, despite it being called to cancellation by some. To me it represented aspects of my heritage, when many of those stories were lacking as main heroines at the time. I sang <i>Colours of the Wind</i> to my children every night that I tucked them in (followed by <i>Part of Your World </i>(Little Mermaid) and <i>God Help the Outcasts</i> ( Hunchback) to which I still choke up at every time! The lyrics to <i>Colours of the Wind </i>still apply to our times, "How can there be so much that you don't know? You don't know…" We don't know each path for each person.</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"> The riches of the earth are all around us. We are all connected to each other. The hoop of Life spirals amongst us. The wolf cry ignites my spirit. We all need to sing with all the voices of the mountains and paint with the colours of the wind...</span>:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ps638erKAn4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Ay7mULlPG9w" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-67387646632190345102022-04-11T14:31:00.003-07:002022-04-11T14:45:17.780-07:00Fallow<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg38UA4vWNLQPP8Sp3nAVsn0v9leiETibvy-xPM9FXJMvkOAyCjxPfKX-tdPApf9-S17d77XhzZwpRv3ZAaLXxDvx2J4wmcVIWYUIkJdYnugjoNvVhjPT3lQBip-w1l0BGzzsZ-GxdkAYJhevoMXAT_7lO2iTRboKRVH8X8VBbNwKj0WFfXuvIeAlPo8Q/s4032/fullsizeoutput_d77e.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg38UA4vWNLQPP8Sp3nAVsn0v9leiETibvy-xPM9FXJMvkOAyCjxPfKX-tdPApf9-S17d77XhzZwpRv3ZAaLXxDvx2J4wmcVIWYUIkJdYnugjoNvVhjPT3lQBip-w1l0BGzzsZ-GxdkAYJhevoMXAT_7lO2iTRboKRVH8X8VBbNwKj0WFfXuvIeAlPo8Q/s320/fullsizeoutput_d77e.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Sometimes, we need fallow ground in one area of our life, while another area is in it's prime growth. Simultaneously, a seed is sown in protected dark to thrive. While, paradoxically, green shoots sprout from another area.<p></p><p>It's been over a year and a half since my social media life died. Like a domino affect, I experienced a tumble of die off in unexpected spheres. This blog, plus sparse texting of a few valued key souls, and once a week emails, were the irregular cerebral sharing I partook in. </p><p>Currently, I would describe this blog as fallow. It is a cultivated place, that I have mostly allowed to be idle during a huge growing/ and die off season of my life. Soil is still magic. It has had it's growth before and is lying fallow with the potential to re seed again.</p><p>Outside of this space, I am becoming someone...surprising. </p><p>Cerebral is of value. Cerebral will always be my first response to life, living as I do inside my head. I thank God for computers, devices, connection and cerebral ways of expression. If I would not have had that outlet, I honestly do not know what kind of regression would have taken place. It was of huge import to explore and nurture that aspect of myself in my twenties and thirties. I can be a slow adjuster to change and growth until one day I wake up and it feels so sudden. Balance in all things right? If we give to one area, another area MUST lie fallow. We make choices of what we are NOT by what we choose to DO, and each choice becomes part of what we ARE.</p><p>I think people are lucky to know me. I think I give a lot in a unique way. I also feel sorry for people who know me. I am a MESS most of the time. I say the wrong thing, I feel ugly most of the time and I have to actively overcome myself just to be present. I don't have a voice for all the complexities and awesome connections I have on most days and can come across as ditzy, but then, on spaces where I can write or have a platform suddenly I have a lot to say. Some of it can be profound. Some is ridiculous. I think it is BOTH/ AND. </p><p>I have been wrestling with closing this space down. Many of the posts do not apply anymore, but yet they were so crucial to whom I am...and for that, I love them. Some have unexpectedly spoken in ways I could not imagine to souls I do not fully know. There is connection, beauty, love, and cultivated grace here. Thus, I am leaving this blog open, with the knowledge that it may only be a short season of fallow, or maybe I will need it desperately at regular intervals soon?</p><p>All of a sudden my thoughts and sharing have become sacred to me. It was sacred that I shared online but there is a caveat. This is an important side of verbalization I do not actually give to many in my life.. When used for a bridge of understanding- it has mattered. But I no longer feel I, personally, need to be understood...yet, I also want to GIVE all the understanding I can, in places that I need to be in. Also, there is a level of offline, in person sharing, that can not happen from a computer screen. The screen of any device is introverted, which I love, but lacks the sensory sharing... and begets both control and a lack of control that is both less messy and infinitely more tricky than life off line. </p><p>At first, I did not know what to do with myself. Connections grew into pockets. Pockets became containers, and containers grew into cozy tree homes. There is SO MUCH BEAUTY out there. But it takes work to find. It takes sacrifice. It takes confidence. It takes faith. It takes bravery. It takes both grace and boundaries. Focusing on one over the other, begets loss. It takes ignoring the news and critics, and BEING...which sounds easy in theory, but is a daily grind of choice. It is the choice to engage in what is immediately in my path. My husband, my children, my home ministry of protection and connection, my seasonal connections, my community etc. I finally have realized that I am just ME. I am complexity and simplicity. I can be a speedy voice of loudness and hyperactivity in a group setting (followed by copious regrets) and talk a mile a minute sometimes, while at others I stay in comfortable silence and need days of alone time to process. I do not have to choose between the two to be authentic. I do not have to force myself into expected boxes of being (I mostly have done this to myself by the way.) </p><p>I have not heard it often said...so I am going to say it here...FREEDOM??? Freedom has to come from within but spread outside the margin of self. Freedom can not just be of the mind, or of the soul, or of the body, or of the emotions. And if one is taking up 70 percent of life as the sole focus? If one person is ONLY focusing on spirituality and denying the body, usually they become fundamentalist or another pathway of extremism. If one is only focusing on the body at the cost of the soul, they will become empty shelled epicureans, always looking for the next sensual hit. If one is giving all their energy to the cerebral (their screens of the mind, assuming full connection but forgetting the connection outside of that device) nihilism and anxiety are natural outcomes. If one is only focused on emotional well being, they can forget the balance of the rational and become chaos. With only the rational, order reigns. Freedom is actually an incorporation of seasons of fallow and growth. It's a constant influx and a flexible model of incorporation, collaboration and change. I like to think of it as the Trinity. That is what freedom optimally is. </p><p>I have a lot of thoughts, but whom am I really to share them? The answer is no one and everyone. I am important. But I am no more important than you are. I am redeemed so my strivings cease ( or in theory they should) but I am flawed and human, so there will always be a grappling. Freedom is found in Viktor Frankl's <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mans-Search-Meaning-Viktor-Frankl/dp/1416524282" target="_blank">Man Search for Meaning.</a> Freedom is found in Spirit but that freedom? It looks different from person to person. The answer is subjective and also concrete. </p><p>I do not want to be known for what I am not, or what I do not stand for, or what ideals I support or advocate for. I just want to BE. I want to wake up everyday, and face each challenge whilst accepting the small beauties and victories. If I hear music, I want to pay attention...perhaps share with someone I love or who I know needs or appreciates it too. I want to be present over perfect. I want to seek first. But I also want to rest well. Most of all, I just want to love Spirit and try to love others. I want to allow the fallow and celebrate growth but not strive for or allow either to encompass my full theme of life. I need BOTH/AND. </p><p>Back to life...</p><p>xo</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjG1TXFbtzZEvgkr5C5NYfr_z0hf7pdjHnfCCV7YfqjjnRWLNfHlcs2p8lLTFjo4xxnoBDR631yWwFebo83r02HhAs3oZQUQ7F-H529mjL7WrVI436rd59EXQIbfYIHl7CuwptEOocfQklKUg6NgC4M1cG2ut7B765-no1mrx9be96TjgCnPdVHZd_tSQ=s161" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjG1TXFbtzZEvgkr5C5NYfr_z0hf7pdjHnfCCV7YfqjjnRWLNfHlcs2p8lLTFjo4xxnoBDR631yWwFebo83r02HhAs3oZQUQ7F-H529mjL7WrVI436rd59EXQIbfYIHl7CuwptEOocfQklKUg6NgC4M1cG2ut7B765-no1mrx9be96TjgCnPdVHZd_tSQ" width="161" /></a></p><p>Thanks Amy for the song choice: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3jP5diBDb4" target="_blank">Back to Life- Rascal Flatts</a></p><p><br /></p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/B3jP5diBDb4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_Szbxpnew4" target="_blank"><br /></a></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_Szbxpnew4" target="_blank">Nobody- Casting Crowns</a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/T_Szbxpnew4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-45587404890685520922022-02-12T16:16:00.016-08:002022-04-13T09:20:01.381-07:00GUEST POST "Like My Father Loves My Mom." To My Dad- Love Your Daughter<p>Enjoy this guest post from my daughter;</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjG1TXFbtzZEvgkr5C5NYfr_z0hf7pdjHnfCCV7YfqjjnRWLNfHlcs2p8lLTFjo4xxnoBDR631yWwFebo83r02HhAs3oZQUQ7F-H529mjL7WrVI436rd59EXQIbfYIHl7CuwptEOocfQklKUg6NgC4M1cG2ut7B765-no1mrx9be96TjgCnPdVHZd_tSQ=s161" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjG1TXFbtzZEvgkr5C5NYfr_z0hf7pdjHnfCCV7YfqjjnRWLNfHlcs2p8lLTFjo4xxnoBDR631yWwFebo83r02HhAs3oZQUQ7F-H529mjL7WrVI436rd59EXQIbfYIHl7CuwptEOocfQklKUg6NgC4M1cG2ut7B765-no1mrx9be96TjgCnPdVHZd_tSQ" width="161" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgY0L3m-2pXtaarCJhs72sJ3KXSfJr2npfCMYEEG7oKhEv63UeHTSBYkDYLcn9USVkVMqwKmRidmgYURR6e0qQTn1MU3m0d6RfuQZouv2vIzhSMX2bEk0jsuuzEjHni9pmw26h9ru8aOShwTPcd9sm65cWFJX11R0iRUhApNXYFxd1s4FnGV7XQBgUVSQ=s1891" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1891" data-original-width="1749" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgY0L3m-2pXtaarCJhs72sJ3KXSfJr2npfCMYEEG7oKhEv63UeHTSBYkDYLcn9USVkVMqwKmRidmgYURR6e0qQTn1MU3m0d6RfuQZouv2vIzhSMX2bEk0jsuuzEjHni9pmw26h9ru8aOShwTPcd9sm65cWFJX11R0iRUhApNXYFxd1s4FnGV7XQBgUVSQ=s320" width="296" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>This post is dedicated to my Dad specifically, but I also made a video to both my parents near this 20th year of their marriage...Mom and Dad: You have been such a romantic example to me, in both the tough and the good times. Cheers to 20 years of Valentines together!"</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLqHzXvQrdDOVTT16M5fREuGLZoEjR6XbW2jUsZaQbPwe_No0zV-WXLF196mcaS6UOEBuY-dy3PPToreHN8tIuRbBo9bn0zBflMdfLyV_eldQUBOKjakRJib0c4q-bQrW120QSfy91LeNspJHSM-JsZ5aXfZDTHse3yZX15yghxtL8lcVilaAuqZF3lg=s1080" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="1080" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLqHzXvQrdDOVTT16M5fREuGLZoEjR6XbW2jUsZaQbPwe_No0zV-WXLF196mcaS6UOEBuY-dy3PPToreHN8tIuRbBo9bn0zBflMdfLyV_eldQUBOKjakRJib0c4q-bQrW120QSfy91LeNspJHSM-JsZ5aXfZDTHse3yZX15yghxtL8lcVilaAuqZF3lg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I recently found this song by Jax, <i>Like My Father </i>in my suggested for a playlist I was making and decided to see what it was. So I clicked on it and while listening my eyes started to get glossy. After finishing the song I knew I had to share it with my parents, as I felt like it was their relationship to a T that I have seen throughout all my life. I showed it to my dad. After a few minutes of being in my room I came out to him listening to it in the kitchen while he was doing dishes. My heart melted and we spent around forty minutes listening to all of the artist's other songs together. My dad was so excited to show mom and both of them got teary when watching the music video. <p></p><p>My mom suggested that I write this post on the song. I agreed that it was a great idea as we all love it deeply. I also thought it would be nice to write it for my amazing dad. So let's get into the song which I also made my own video of my parents to below...</p><p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: helvetica;">"I want to come home to roses, and dirty little notes on Post-its, and when my hair is turning grey he'll say I'm like a fine wine better with age. I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship. A kiss on the forehead, a date night, fake an apology after a fight."</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">There have been so many times in my life that I witnessed my dad buying my mom flowers and leaving little notes for her. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">My parents always love trying to bug us and make dirty jokes especially my dad. Lots of times when they start kissing my dad will pop his head up and say "kids close your eyes!" We all exclaim "eeewwwww Dad!!" But I like seeing them so in love. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">Throughout the years my dad has always said things to my mom like said in the quote above "you're like a fine wine. Better with age." In the quote below "And when my body changes shapes he'll say, ' You look hot today." My mom loves it when he says these things even if she has a hard time believing it. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">I want a love like my parents as said in the song. "I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship" They have taught me what true love looks like. And though they did not start out as friends, they became best friends as they were dating and have stayed close even after the hard times. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">I want someone who will kiss me on the forehead and has date nights with me like my parents do for each other (even if they don't get enough date nights due to having three kids). I love how this song says "fake an apology after a fight" I remember being taught that in relationships you sometimes have to fake it till you make it and fake apologies. Otherwise you might never say sorry. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: medium;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">"I need a man who's patient and kind, gets out of the car and holds the door. I wanna slow dance in the living room like we're eighteen at senior prom and grow old with someone who makes me feel young. I need a man who loves me like my father loves my mom."</span><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span> </span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: times;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">My Dad has shown these (patient and kind) characteristics throughout his life. Not perfectly of course. He is always striving to be better. My dad truly is a kind hearted, sweet man. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">When there is fun or romantic music on, I will often see them holding each other close and doing their ridiculous dance moves or swaying side to side. They always look like they are enjoying each other when they dance and I love seeing them be utterly ridiculous (which I hope to be with my future husband). (See video below.) </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: times;">I feel like my parents keep each other young. My mom keeps the relationship young because of her innocence and her funny childish ways sometimes. And my dad does because of his humour and also</span><span style="font-family: times;"> his childish ways. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">The way my dad loves my mom so deeply and beautifully is something that I've always wanted in a future spouse. "I need a man who loves me like my father loves my mom." </span></p><p><span class="ReferentFragmentVariantdesktop__Highlight-sc-1837hky-1 cLylEv" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding: calc((((1.5em - 1.125rem) / 2) - 0.0625rem) - 0.75px) 0px calc((((1.5em - 1.125rem) / 2) - 0.0625rem) - 0.25px);"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #cc0000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">"I wanna road trip in thе summers. I wanna make fun of each other. I wanna rock out to Billy Joel, And flip our kids off when they call us old. He'll accidentally burn our dinner, And let me be the Scrabble winner, And when my body changes shapes, He'll say, "Oh my god, you look hot today."</span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">My parents have gone on many road trips with and without us. I think it's when they get time to talk the most and what a better time to talk then driving around. They have always loved these drives and have taught us to enjoy it just as much (especially in the summer). </span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">There is always non-stop making fun each other in our house. My dad is usually the source of it. It's fun to see my mom and dad make fun each other. They do it a lot and are still in love so that says something haha. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span><span style="font-family: times;"> "I wanna rock out to Bill</span></span><span style="font-family: times;">y Joel..." We are a very musical family so obviously this is also something that I hope for. Like I said before my parents like to dance together and "rocking out" is definitely something that they "try" to do. 'Try' being the operative word as they do crazy dance moves that are very interesting to watch. I can't wait to freak my kids out with weird dance moves like they do to us. </span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">Now if we ever call them old... oh man...their reactions are always big if they don't laugh. And yes we have been flipped off when us kids have said that they are old but of course this is all fun in games and hilarious as it's very dramatic (*clears throat. Dad*.) </span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">My dad rarely ever burns our dinner. He is the main cook in our house and makes the best meals to nourish our bodies. I luckily took after my dad in the kitchen. I'm totally ok with my husband not loving the kitchen or having a talent in it like my mom....since I'm hoping to do 3/4 of the cooking, but we shall see. </span></span></p><p><span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: times;">When my dad heard this song for the first time when she says "And let me be the scrabble winner" he exclaimed, "Ha I would never do that!" Which is true, he really wouldn't. My parents are very competitive but it's very funny to see little tantrums (and game boards) being thrown by the ever sore loser. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: helvetica;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">"And if he lives up to my father, m</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">aybe he can teach our daughter, w</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">hat it takes to love a queen, s</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">he should know she's royalty"</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span>I hope my husband lives up to my father; kind, hardworking, gentle, truthful, and most of all faithful to me. I hope my future spouse can teach our daughter what it looks like to love a woman. Just like my dad showed me, by loving my mom, what it looks like to be loved by a man. Treating her like a queen so that she knows she's special and royalty. </span><span> </span><span> </span></span><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span><span style="font-family: times;"> </span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">"I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: times;">Thank you dad for being such a great guy who loves my mom and all of us kids so deeply. Thanks to both my dad and my mom who showed us kids what a wonderful relationship looks like and how to treat our future mates. I love you so much</span>.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBIpeuPWCdh_6zsPdI3iWZsV0V62kMkz-ysRgEj03xjYrB49_8BpJUwM572pM3OnbUdEsd0EmZnMqTS2d5ce5gNxd_a-VaIQW3ocNdUalmB8WUvPCx4YNsqS88KzM9D-vGlxaOIm5VYDYc-CKlhSFxMHE4Z_HozHPXlRmhVT_yuyr02YjmVO9v2EoxYA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="75" data-original-width="100" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBIpeuPWCdh_6zsPdI3iWZsV0V62kMkz-ysRgEj03xjYrB49_8BpJUwM572pM3OnbUdEsd0EmZnMqTS2d5ce5gNxd_a-VaIQW3ocNdUalmB8WUvPCx4YNsqS88KzM9D-vGlxaOIm5VYDYc-CKlhSFxMHE4Z_HozHPXlRmhVT_yuyr02YjmVO9v2EoxYA=w200-h150" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: times;">And to my future husband, I'm so excited what our future holds for us. </span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">P.S. I made a video of my parents for Valentines of them below- password: love :</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><iframe allow="autoplay; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/676676698?h=3b3ffbc738" width="640"></iframe>password: love</p>
Original Music Video here:
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GCWl50HQZIM" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-59967829273375348992021-12-09T12:48:00.019-08:002022-04-13T09:27:13.138-07:00Gingerbread Houses, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Sarah Clarkson and Other Holiday Discourse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFRO7KU1zFdlBccAIHF56K17WFA10vEA2Sq82QOmQK-CUg4s5hEiAd2_iEkFnkcN_LKrBE5bqbcgWwwLaCmgBQohVyV9Dx-Z5QKIKCGfxKtu1evNuVsZ2q1jygM8mRTEzTctIC6Aar0Le3z0FqFjeYyhW5QM078rWbYCl0f2MaRkZIbToPxvUenI4cHg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFRO7KU1zFdlBccAIHF56K17WFA10vEA2Sq82QOmQK-CUg4s5hEiAd2_iEkFnkcN_LKrBE5bqbcgWwwLaCmgBQohVyV9Dx-Z5QKIKCGfxKtu1evNuVsZ2q1jygM8mRTEzTctIC6Aar0Le3z0FqFjeYyhW5QM078rWbYCl0f2MaRkZIbToPxvUenI4cHg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>"A man may make a Remark- In itself- a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark In dormant nature- lain- Let us divide- with skill- Let us discourse- with care- <span style="background-color: white;">Powder exists in Charcoal- Before it exists in Fire-"</span> - Emily Dickinson</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtJus83dmGJzp1c9ENpQ21HiVl8O62Za5fGt-DzE-u2yzouzZtmM4KiyY8YQk7TiJzO0K8Vo2DYTRTzPHX7wiHfLCbotYOM0y8wZqGYNrDEXU0pz5nUIpGN1_HdK64P7gEG9x0thMWmOKvHoy_Pm95eJCpUYU8s854ocXwXIYJYPPe1JFErunWAtCF2Q=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtJus83dmGJzp1c9ENpQ21HiVl8O62Za5fGt-DzE-u2yzouzZtmM4KiyY8YQk7TiJzO0K8Vo2DYTRTzPHX7wiHfLCbotYOM0y8wZqGYNrDEXU0pz5nUIpGN1_HdK64P7gEG9x0thMWmOKvHoy_Pm95eJCpUYU8s854ocXwXIYJYPPe1JFErunWAtCF2Q=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Burn out. A word most of current culture relates to. Yet, we do not understand that our Gingerbread houses are spun out of what we also help create. Perhaps the initial ingredients are out of our hands, but the way we flourish our proverbial homes? We have some sway over the sugar and spice. Why would we choose to coat our doors in sticky ketchup (news outlets/ social media)? <span style="background-color: white;">Why would we want our doors so stuck with information that we can barely open them up on our own? </span>The home we make can become crumbled bits and pieces, when we try so hard to open the door we partially sealed with our own choices. We shake our own core. It can be tough to taste tantalizing sweet sugar underneath layers of tomato paste. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSpfmOEaedl6w9OdMqKen5QRQYBHKCr-Qsd4XDQ6PAQ7wosqPVTH9MPssvIPZ9AgbFJkoPMhswwGqmAOGS6T-3NFqemCi1SIZi9jO3bqHY3RJC6mehtTVJg_qYMibA38edzm-Qt8ZDzA8cfHJSb_EoMHkhOf5iXWwNOb32WAb6XqvUgANbcjvo5r05tQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSpfmOEaedl6w9OdMqKen5QRQYBHKCr-Qsd4XDQ6PAQ7wosqPVTH9MPssvIPZ9AgbFJkoPMhswwGqmAOGS6T-3NFqemCi1SIZi9jO3bqHY3RJC6mehtTVJg_qYMibA38edzm-Qt8ZDzA8cfHJSb_EoMHkhOf5iXWwNOb32WAb6XqvUgANbcjvo5r05tQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white;">Let us discourse with care. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9wCnTacluaW2Ajr-1I28wpU62WGTZjMUuyex2PHnr29S3FutIUvPSkTDjqloyTlZv6RuMJyT6uM0cqn3x5HQ6Zv7rN7HklxSE3QzIP-4_WFdioH1Uu4ZQv0727ARIF0P_xkfvBKjaARQC39xg8itgjyJmvnCmLj3Bs4oz-laemhpeI7cyyx2tDWEUAQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9wCnTacluaW2Ajr-1I28wpU62WGTZjMUuyex2PHnr29S3FutIUvPSkTDjqloyTlZv6RuMJyT6uM0cqn3x5HQ6Zv7rN7HklxSE3QzIP-4_WFdioH1Uu4ZQv0727ARIF0P_xkfvBKjaARQC39xg8itgjyJmvnCmLj3Bs4oz-laemhpeI7cyyx2tDWEUAQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Evergreen. A word that expresses everlasting hope. A word that can sing beloved Christmas tunes or evoke the sparkling wonder that children are best at expressing.<i style="background-color: white;">"Welcome home,"</i> says the body that is nourished and grounded in<span style="background-color: white;"> BEING. </span>The hand on the door, opening to a place of belonging and safety. The squished give of the mattress as it envelops at night. The light of a lamp reflecting the caring of friends, as the knots of isolation slowly become untied. The wreaths symbolizing the spiral of life. The cliches that bring us joy. The tiny, obscure miracles we forget to see, because we are too caught up in our cerebral worlds to honour the tangible<i> <span style="background-color: white;">Given.</span></i><span style="background-color: white;"> </span>Yet, the breaks from ourselves are there, waiting to soothe our unbelief in the Beauty that<span style="background-color: white;"> <i>IS,</i> </span>patiently waiting to give a little cheer with the words, <i style="background-color: white;">"Welcome home."</i></p><p>Story. What binds us and breaks us. What heals or destroys. The words we choose can bring hope or disaster. The story we tell, no matter how dark or bright, is<i> <span style="background-color: white;">OURS </span></i>to give. The calm inside our chaos is a promise of<span style="background-color: white;"> All that</span><i><span style="background-color: white;"> Is.</span> </i>"Sharing all our stories of our failures and our glories, even when our hopes got torn, We made it through the storm. And I couldn't ask for more. When I'm down, and I'm lost and I'm tired- When it feels like the whole world is on fire...Even when I feel like a mess, have to take a good look inside me Yes, In the hurts where I find the Holy I guess, I'll never be perfect but I try my best, to remember I'm blessed."- Kelly Clarkson</p><p>Charts. Can something so clinical be a balm? How does one reframe a moment? In emotion? In intellect? In spirit? In Body? One piece neglected takes from the whole. Can you <span style="background-color: white;"><i>smell </i>j</span>oy? Can you <i style="background-color: white;">feel </i>a word? Can spirit<i> <span style="background-color: white;">be rooted</span></i><span style="background-color: white;">? </span> Can a body<i> <span style="background-color: white;">connect</span></i><span style="background-color: white;"> </span>to other realms? Can we meet in the middle? ... A room that had housed a familiar mentor was now the territory of a complete stranger. Like clockwork, almost every month, for 16 years I had met a different set of eyes. Next to the seat was an emotions chart.* Inwardly I cringed. I dismissively thought, "Of course, he knows I have Aspergers Syndrome and gave me a feelings chart. Standard textbook." But I looked into his hope filled eyes that wished to help me, and I softened. I tried to be open.<span style="background-color: white;"> It wasn't his fault his eyes were new.</span> As the session proceeded, that chart surprised, claimed, named and comforted. Feelings need direct expression without being in the driver's seat. They are the passengers of our voyages and as such need to be treated with care but not full control. Words are just words without intent or tone. But what if the tone is not the intent? It can get messy. Words are magic and pain. <span style="background-color: white;">Language is our greatest weapon and healer. </span>"I wrestled. But it wasn't with God; it was with the ideas that obscured him." Sarah Clarkson.</p><p>Sad: "Fatigued/ Tired. Miserable. Despair. heartbroken. Devastated. Discouraged, Disappointed. Hopeless. Pain and Hurt. Depressed. Grief and Sorrow. Unhappy." Joyful: "Delighted. Glad- Pleased. Elated. Thrilled. Enthusiastic. Passionate. Appreciation. Thankful. Grateful. Excited. Ecstatic. Happy." Gratitude partially counters sadness, but it is possible to hold both. <span style="background-color: white;"><i>BOTH/ AND</i> </span>"Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes."- Walt Whitman.</p><p>Snowfall. Flakes can be fluffy, gentle and comforting or a blizzard, sharp and dangerous. The Sparkling white magnifies other colours. Sometimes it blinds. <span style="background-color: white;">Can you feel a memory? </span>Can loss be amplified by surrounding rushes of joy? The fresh start of a blank canvas or the bleak ending of a previous season? Both/ And? <span style="background-color: white;">Dancing with ghosts</span>; a gift or a curse? Both/ And? The bough of the branch, heavy with snow, has it's own sort of <span style="background-color: white;"><i>knowing</i>.</span></p><p>Rooted. Spirit working in the body. Nourishment below the surface. The re making power of love. There are no empty promises here.<i> <span style="background-color: white;">Roots</span> </i>are the friends of wounded hearts. We become so much muchier when we can rise rooted. Stumble into the light of <i style="background-color: white;">Grace. Close your eyes and feel the ground beneath your feet, your foundation of Being is here.</i></p><p>Wounded Healer. "We are not created for disaster nor formed for destruction, and to lament our pain is to honour the beauty God intended and yearn toward it's restoration....The point of our struggle is not to gain some sort of spiritual grit or prove our endurance. We are not asked to become grim warriors in the face of pain; We are asked to be children who will not rest until they know themselves cradled in the arms of a father who begot them for joy...toward hope...onward..."- Sarah Clarkson. The impacting, insightful leaders know that to be a healer, one has to first know what wounds feel like. Grief comes to us all. Each of us has different gifts to give, different ways to interpret, different faith stances, different stories. But we <span style="background-color: white;"><i>CAN</i> </span>become wounded healers in the smaller sense of the words. "We would rather God be neatly culpable for the evil that comes upon us, would rather believe that cancer and infant death and abuse and tornadoes are explainable as necessary to the overarching story of the world, than face the kind of <span style="background-color: white;">ancient, true drama in which God himself weeps at the sight of what he has made, now defiled and destroyed</span>. We are afraid to sit in the wild presence of sorrow, allowing it to whisper to us..."- Sarah Clarkson. Perhaps sorrow is like the candy hearts on a Gingerbread home? Melted little red streaks on the pristine white snow. Grief should not be explained away or a segue into dissertations of hell. Grief is a broken state when God weeps too.</p><p>Grace. "When strivings Cease." Because we will never, even the best of us, feel like we are enough. Someone will be better. Someone will have more. Someone will outlast and outlive. You may feel broken, but that is not all that<i> <span style="background-color: white;">IS </span></i>you. Think of the lovely practice of filling broken tea cups with gold. The teacup doesn't fill itself. But it is a vessel for the golden glue to set. Isn't that a <span style="background-color: white;">relief?</span> With that knowing we can rest a bit...</p><p>Tis' The Season. Maybe it's Solstice or Eid or Hanukkah or Christmas or a Stat or just another day... December / January holds many holidays. "Happy Solstice" and "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays" are words that I still can not help but pass onward. I give those I love enough credit to be able to translate the <span style="background-color: white;">sentiment,</span> even if they do not celebrate that particular holiday. I love the Community episodes remarking on the complexities and ridiculousness of all this. Yes, we want to give others a listening ear and respect, but we can also l<span style="background-color: white;"><i>ove what we love and be what we are. In that we become full enough to learn to hear what others love and whom they are. It's pure beauty- hearing different variations of holiday goodwill.</i></span></p><p>Cheers to Christmas tunes and the feelings of childhood they evoke. Music can transcend. "Come December I confess. I want the tree full of toys and tinsel....I want the elves in the yard, each sentimental card dripping glitter on the floor, I want a roof full of plywood reindeer and a road full of horse drawn sleighs. All those Christmas cliches... I want the gulp and the tear the moment that I hear Andy Williams being played...Not to mention the snow, not to mention the choir. Not to mention the candles in the window and chestnuts roasting on a fire...along a street bathed in twinkling white..as for the songs you hear over and over, I hope you look this one up when it plays, all those Christmas cliches."- Darren Criss</p><p>May your Gingerbread homes reflect not only whom you want to be, but whom you already are. May you make the changes you can and apply Grace to the rest. May you find peppermint bliss and spun clouds of respite amongst any grief you may carry. But most of all, may you know, you are worthy because you exist. </p><p>Happy Holidays.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErLRtGa1xX46O-H_RBbELh6uoWxJH9ckdAlgpI2x7CBueiGNd3nStDNSA74M9-PFu92CHvxX8dkLav3PsOEbumsy2ckTWBlshwXR2Zc0pi_vlD3hgCeamCtqDczLKDj4xt1tAa71H1Zxt/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErLRtGa1xX46O-H_RBbELh6uoWxJH9ckdAlgpI2x7CBueiGNd3nStDNSA74M9-PFu92CHvxX8dkLav3PsOEbumsy2ckTWBlshwXR2Zc0pi_vlD3hgCeamCtqDczLKDj4xt1tAa71H1Zxt/w200-h128/image.png" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjScdsUgpcvfunB3bivPSX3G_mUDY2BRi354DN6eX2frKybimd0r3L4jmWe-b8nX4CiPGx5jYM_hNNNgfKSF0sToCov-0MrnZsQ5_aF0z3mOrAF5mn_Dk_zBZG7raKWCY9Z2tlTFagipiX/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1136" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjScdsUgpcvfunB3bivPSX3G_mUDY2BRi354DN6eX2frKybimd0r3L4jmWe-b8nX4CiPGx5jYM_hNNNgfKSF0sToCov-0MrnZsQ5_aF0z3mOrAF5mn_Dk_zBZG7raKWCY9Z2tlTFagipiX/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;">P.S. Song Choice: Normally I don't upload private family videos on my blog but I thought my readers may enjoy a clip of our Gingerbread </span><span style="text-align: left;">ridiculousness</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;">. Sometimes we send out cheesy home made videos to our friends and family. Recently we had two hours to use- thus we gathered some thrown together outfits and did a quick </span><span style="text-align: left;">frolic</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"> through the song Sweet Gingerbread Man by Sammy Davis Jr. which was on the last Hawkeye episode (excellent Tv series thus far!) We were purposefully ridiculous as usual and we hope it brings you a smile…what do you think…does my husband look like David </span><span style="text-align: left;">Hasselhoff</span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"> with bronzer?? (His words NOT mine!) It was our only way to make a sweet gingerbread man with his halloween monk suit - ha ha. I uploaded the first minute of the video (with a few tweaks to those who already saw it.) I could not upload the full video here (I know you want more.) but the little morsel is enough to get the lyrics" All tasty and tan sweet gingerbread man" into your head. I dare you not to hum that one incessantly...just hopefully it doesn't beget the image of my husband in tights...You're welcome. Ha. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit; text-align: left;">Anyway, Enjoy the cheese! Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to you. May you find some sweet moments of joy and wonder where it is possible...</span></div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dye4xjHMXAK4FtTbEznL785EfRUJJZfcCW3A17ObIqP2ZtcQL5jeAxCiuUzhDFQYSgV3G8uJSp44lcClBbYSQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Full song by Sammy here:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2p89YnQx5u0" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The song I referenced at the end of my post is found below: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All those Christmas Cliches By Darren Criss ( I loved his new Crissmas album along with Kelly Clarkson's new Christmas record "When Christmas Comes Round again" has been on repeat in my house. How can I not feel like Christmas with the opening to her first song? Wowza. I did not realize what a power house voice she had! Songs 1- 4 &12 are my favourite!):</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3HnyESm7nmg" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Kelly Clarkson Christmas Isn't Cancelled (Just You):</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7nLU5i5Ec7g" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And for a slower song that had my eyes a little misty: Merry Christmas to the One I used to know- Kelly Clarkson:</div><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cmE7aXfmzV8" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />*The feelings chart:<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMbE9yJwbHaW5uE4wOSoSCqhe0kn0tBF5o7i8rGylV9tclbtsBv4nfykel845YoquCdC0H4fKwraIUo1DaZtHAiGC0260kOpMStdqMP-DUOkR-bk8rYRR8X_UwVL7obScS6FMEK_Dgu6i/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1620" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGMbE9yJwbHaW5uE4wOSoSCqhe0kn0tBF5o7i8rGylV9tclbtsBv4nfykel845YoquCdC0H4fKwraIUo1DaZtHAiGC0260kOpMStdqMP-DUOkR-bk8rYRR8X_UwVL7obScS6FMEK_Dgu6i/w317-h400/IMG_8074.jpeg" width="317" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-44336031281129286182021-11-07T19:52:00.011-08:002022-06-20T13:26:20.514-07:00Soulful Gifts on the Spiral of my new 38th Year. A Birthday Post.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiEcdYIcGoEKGWrZXbtuAcNZ54kUHvnsMUcew-N8Ye0VkZDnepiRZbMQWF6MvGi-3BTykGTxq4WiHl5qGfLsF_7l9iXWDzusQp9Rg2phddYsclLu9FR07uwZsut6dPKSgQ7GPBEhtajOTArcFZ6ZlD03VmRHX8E9I1HaTQywyyjgUit0BJ0SeNejMnnw=s1920" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiEcdYIcGoEKGWrZXbtuAcNZ54kUHvnsMUcew-N8Ye0VkZDnepiRZbMQWF6MvGi-3BTykGTxq4WiHl5qGfLsF_7l9iXWDzusQp9Rg2phddYsclLu9FR07uwZsut6dPKSgQ7GPBEhtajOTArcFZ6ZlD03VmRHX8E9I1HaTQywyyjgUit0BJ0SeNejMnnw=w320-h180" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(My sister's capture of our Northern Lights)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">I look up from my computer screen to see the toenail of the moon curving eastward, sitting slightly above the evergreen tree-line across from our home. The deep, dusky blue sky is darkening and twinkle lights from the Christmas tree are highlighted in the window against the sparkling crystals. I am torn between just staring at the window, and trying to write down my thoughts as they happen. So I alternate. Because each dusk is a soulful gift.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsa_fskNLdNcABva8AGcPGw32cGf9jEklS5pPhnSOh6qL-dh8-gKhLtF4HaXt2WImYDCA-g4BkiBjTxCZzcJLtojOuhNF_DiKDgP9zgc5K_2O0SgMQnVTMyc0xJAtDuWe0Q5X8imB0JVaKmkwqri2PHCiShM4YnoEW1LdiM-P3ydp_-7QQAYWwmxYxng=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1630" data-original-width="2048" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsa_fskNLdNcABva8AGcPGw32cGf9jEklS5pPhnSOh6qL-dh8-gKhLtF4HaXt2WImYDCA-g4BkiBjTxCZzcJLtojOuhNF_DiKDgP9zgc5K_2O0SgMQnVTMyc0xJAtDuWe0Q5X8imB0JVaKmkwqri2PHCiShM4YnoEW1LdiM-P3ydp_-7QQAYWwmxYxng=s320" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcQhUDIUNXiWXCHIc2CG1KoiIYxiz46jdxiGRN0eZqVf1BkyC8KIKEdgJqluFBmk6J_pMdTW7tm9Tfhi8n9w5EIGyV1u-wPiF5K8WTRE4oX7NXFg0KAX2VSXPb8JL1PX2Fv74oD2LL_JTywEo6RQxFe5te1_2XDrYiMO2rnHdLfxOwsDM0N9D3XsokDg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcQhUDIUNXiWXCHIc2CG1KoiIYxiz46jdxiGRN0eZqVf1BkyC8KIKEdgJqluFBmk6J_pMdTW7tm9Tfhi8n9w5EIGyV1u-wPiF5K8WTRE4oX7NXFg0KAX2VSXPb8JL1PX2Fv74oD2LL_JTywEo6RQxFe5te1_2XDrYiMO2rnHdLfxOwsDM0N9D3XsokDg=s320" width="240" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">It is later in the year for us to put up our Christmas trees due to the events of the last month. Halloween decor is a staple all year in my home, but it mixes perfectly with Christmas and Yule for me. In our province, it usually is already snowing and quite cold, but this year, the season seems to sense that people need more time to be outside. My Spirit feels deep gratitude at the wild ways of nature. Ever surprising. Ever teaching. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSWCdCrzCvuYd6YCKSEcc7pax9wzmcK1MzebAwd62--G8nzCK3vPA4gnUVwzcci3MjBAKL3DW9Wl6x3S9EnerTlES3sOFRLC1FCiQ_bmPRLtEfZbobKAtyK3BahnfZCXNzv-tAAINBxV390t2Ehdwr-jc4zlB8-h0G5KrfHxa8k9p4a6G4YOTHGjjyEQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSWCdCrzCvuYd6YCKSEcc7pax9wzmcK1MzebAwd62--G8nzCK3vPA4gnUVwzcci3MjBAKL3DW9Wl6x3S9EnerTlES3sOFRLC1FCiQ_bmPRLtEfZbobKAtyK3BahnfZCXNzv-tAAINBxV390t2Ehdwr-jc4zlB8-h0G5KrfHxa8k9p4a6G4YOTHGjjyEQ=s320" width="240" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBKk-gOMmmWdxU7K9FbHZwWS1Akw_O1OEScjwMBX2AuBEozB-Zael0kl4FKl_uUXhDZybLQBPNf1ZkrfX0PT0BGTO5ws9JYevd9pvpFXIClVD2bbZhonAIPymMLPaypLEEwcER1_4jpVc8O3AXJDoSAdCbLQtyJO1DU0qGgAPfLXXmmGqIjehyW-KWHQ=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBKk-gOMmmWdxU7K9FbHZwWS1Akw_O1OEScjwMBX2AuBEozB-Zael0kl4FKl_uUXhDZybLQBPNf1ZkrfX0PT0BGTO5ws9JYevd9pvpFXIClVD2bbZhonAIPymMLPaypLEEwcER1_4jpVc8O3AXJDoSAdCbLQtyJO1DU0qGgAPfLXXmmGqIjehyW-KWHQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwCgJYA2BgBYKIrqvjdCZ1DrCSDlqozUW8xRtRVQmNp94375YUhcLDjj1GlZzIGpJFECKYgRJ6jAW7TVgmmEviaSK1lhAQQpuys0TKMa1NzhMEUoRyQOUYgW9wePEuyYc_pwz4eX-Xc3zlL8Wt_LlUdJmj0G3aQGTpkOzAz2S3dvQvIxU78Uu4m0nBQw=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwCgJYA2BgBYKIrqvjdCZ1DrCSDlqozUW8xRtRVQmNp94375YUhcLDjj1GlZzIGpJFECKYgRJ6jAW7TVgmmEviaSK1lhAQQpuys0TKMa1NzhMEUoRyQOUYgW9wePEuyYc_pwz4eX-Xc3zlL8Wt_LlUdJmj0G3aQGTpkOzAz2S3dvQvIxU78Uu4m0nBQw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPBZF0FpkHA5LtHwM2B6mZ_1vIMYl93zdqzQTcv8p1yqDkh7WSXz4mi3yH3jjiEMYLw5Wi_Zy3mGT3g9IkLcwAfU-w5BQwypYLQ8G7CE-jeQpR7FZKgA1PfVgY2vu-ThoTt6iEzLbozidUUzZBWYY7JI9BgXT_mONZw68Ro6iLLdpANUEdDsdgqYZjew=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPBZF0FpkHA5LtHwM2B6mZ_1vIMYl93zdqzQTcv8p1yqDkh7WSXz4mi3yH3jjiEMYLw5Wi_Zy3mGT3g9IkLcwAfU-w5BQwypYLQ8G7CE-jeQpR7FZKgA1PfVgY2vu-ThoTt6iEzLbozidUUzZBWYY7JI9BgXT_mONZw68Ro6iLLdpANUEdDsdgqYZjew=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizWj5o318-dWc4NkDG-BITTeSkg0x-37GGisuwMzFdDlzxPAPX9kHtUjdGCUs3jdlTRt_VAO_46iBuaq7bImaoLfUNJT5ghW4_z1ID9Ybee_cWNaZHL6TILfgVvmlLxtwJBLN3CaqILR8vkmDb7SCrSfyP83I0ljl-Z_XHcDOAM1hBYVXu7RKUrj13EA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizWj5o318-dWc4NkDG-BITTeSkg0x-37GGisuwMzFdDlzxPAPX9kHtUjdGCUs3jdlTRt_VAO_46iBuaq7bImaoLfUNJT5ghW4_z1ID9Ybee_cWNaZHL6TILfgVvmlLxtwJBLN3CaqILR8vkmDb7SCrSfyP83I0ljl-Z_XHcDOAM1hBYVXu7RKUrj13EA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">November is my birthday month. Like the moon phases in the sky, I have had changing phases in my celebrations (or lack thereof.) I've had a fraught history with birthdays. I love gifts. Both expected and surprising...but I have struggled at being the center of expectation. But after almost 38 years, I have finally reframed my birthday. I view time as a cyclical spiral instead of a linear line. For some reason, I oddly did not apply my overall view to my birthdays. Instead I saw them as one more year behind, and another year trudging towards my inevitable aging and demise. How did I not untie my cares around an important event in the cycle? How did I not see, that my life seasons are cyclical too? The Wheel of the Year speaks to my soul. There is a welcome home in each mark of the season. Each season teaches, gives and begets another aspect of God breathed creation, the wildness of nature, and the pure gifts and hardships of unique time scapes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhGDs0LwsaQ2V4MDDI63n-RMUhjoltD98mABTwJkbYVzzqQ0UPdLhqAai9AjdPxYE669MBjXC85YXMG_VECOTS6Cr8AAK_Z4G4Xir3d4Ecanje5jLpwiDUv8PvVQQabuNOjXJSb_0iXaPv87eQEsHah1bk8MH4QFaGWvHzeCe0rnP9_gJnMzoV9RikzA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhGDs0LwsaQ2V4MDDI63n-RMUhjoltD98mABTwJkbYVzzqQ0UPdLhqAai9AjdPxYE669MBjXC85YXMG_VECOTS6Cr8AAK_Z4G4Xir3d4Ecanje5jLpwiDUv8PvVQQabuNOjXJSb_0iXaPv87eQEsHah1bk8MH4QFaGWvHzeCe0rnP9_gJnMzoV9RikzA=s320" width="320" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Seasons reflect spirituality. Seasons are in friendships where the ebb and flow mimic the ocean tides. I see pictures of myself, in various forms, and I realize that forgetting to honour my seasons... Well, to phrase Bilbo Baggins, "It is no small thing to celebrate a life." AH LIFE! A life! Life, with it's northern lights and explosive volcanoes...beauty and destruction paired and part of the same universe. Complexity and simplicity. Joy and sorrow. We hold mini versions of these diverse landscapes inside our human shells. I am honoured to have this vessel of mine, for however long I do, it can be such a heartbreakingly beautiful world. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_2LeViexhXwhSUX4Z7Eyyokmsu6ZbzdahJmFJUOZyscq0j0dpNQIvwxglcVrM_-ydvoyihEnrC7puIgY7k5n26bUz_LU08w1TzrEg8NAd08y2fa2zOUc73nAYc1cmRUurzYhN4voM1S_0V4nnjllMgJwPbEDz9n7ojOvtU9i4e1cWDAbx7VB3XML2yg=s1118" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1118" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_2LeViexhXwhSUX4Z7Eyyokmsu6ZbzdahJmFJUOZyscq0j0dpNQIvwxglcVrM_-ydvoyihEnrC7puIgY7k5n26bUz_LU08w1TzrEg8NAd08y2fa2zOUc73nAYc1cmRUurzYhN4voM1S_0V4nnjllMgJwPbEDz9n7ojOvtU9i4e1cWDAbx7VB3XML2yg=s320" width="275" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjre8Np35bAAicAdBGVj3e6QVkSb-5u4Xi5xvkq4ItE-YQG8cprGcd_6hbsnVbFA6JifASOPsfrfnCp5XynBc5R5Oj-TQsA0dW6zLRBtDfD7QjeVEklkGjSnGcM213Zlgl0b3ZPPw3mE7cGchDPEcCGCT7iP68pKza1nSowoIAd3rZ4IqWhSLeaU2xSWg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjre8Np35bAAicAdBGVj3e6QVkSb-5u4Xi5xvkq4ItE-YQG8cprGcd_6hbsnVbFA6JifASOPsfrfnCp5XynBc5R5Oj-TQsA0dW6zLRBtDfD7QjeVEklkGjSnGcM213Zlgl0b3ZPPw3mE7cGchDPEcCGCT7iP68pKza1nSowoIAd3rZ4IqWhSLeaU2xSWg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhO2BT25pMT-VJ98Sx3Q0h9xoS4YCKVmhgVk6MdINDQY0VR_QkI57L3k-crJAo7emjZGJLmKHSuiCkQoB9h92UDApHFCfyX6C0pwizmRkBvUgJJPXjDw0fX-CB_fvolZMjYUd6IRQD8Ehz_Xk4K_BIiRv_ZEkpxbBqtu2y0BMBpq9kxXKntnw7Yt-y8Jw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhO2BT25pMT-VJ98Sx3Q0h9xoS4YCKVmhgVk6MdINDQY0VR_QkI57L3k-crJAo7emjZGJLmKHSuiCkQoB9h92UDApHFCfyX6C0pwizmRkBvUgJJPXjDw0fX-CB_fvolZMjYUd6IRQD8Ehz_Xk4K_BIiRv_ZEkpxbBqtu2y0BMBpq9kxXKntnw7Yt-y8Jw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpwrBq9HJXA06sxbQce4xYeU5Vx8TjVg15kNUpGqqUD1RF6rHuWK5Vnul3y8W4bbj9xQIZ9gKFQwH0JDH_4h2skI599u-QurfrACPFCFbGX-e-nMYrpAcl0QsP3S7A2gDU3ntWwWIooOgPhLyXpVhLBMg6VZMTM4HdHJNf_50SaLI2VxPs9BZN7KFkxg=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpwrBq9HJXA06sxbQce4xYeU5Vx8TjVg15kNUpGqqUD1RF6rHuWK5Vnul3y8W4bbj9xQIZ9gKFQwH0JDH_4h2skI599u-QurfrACPFCFbGX-e-nMYrpAcl0QsP3S7A2gDU3ntWwWIooOgPhLyXpVhLBMg6VZMTM4HdHJNf_50SaLI2VxPs9BZN7KFkxg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">While northern lights are a stunning sky painting of awe, so is every sunrise and sunset. The light in my bedroom often will be sifting through my curtains as I wake, and at a certain time, a sun symbol on my wall lights up with the actual sunlight. I often will wait to start my day until I have had a few moments to contemplate on the peace filled symbol. My children say that too often they hear, "Hey guys look, look, look, it's the sun on the sun! It will only be there for a few more minutes. Enjoy it. Savour it." Most of the time they indulge me, sometimes they roll their eyes with a grin and mock me...either way I smile.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimACy9IcEw6ZlQi5AMYDEGAYT9Pfw0sFYJposVi4EPR-n_BdseWEA0iDHno2ERZCtnDI64p35rnwEk20KaEE2T7Rt_WFvDbJ2unkrR68HHBSg2RmZnXEg06pj1mZGVzkaHTEzohc7VbLzgl7BlkOUNkFsLhvBQNWDpHoyJdUJXfdNX6ORMnea1RIFgcQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimACy9IcEw6ZlQi5AMYDEGAYT9Pfw0sFYJposVi4EPR-n_BdseWEA0iDHno2ERZCtnDI64p35rnwEk20KaEE2T7Rt_WFvDbJ2unkrR68HHBSg2RmZnXEg06pj1mZGVzkaHTEzohc7VbLzgl7BlkOUNkFsLhvBQNWDpHoyJdUJXfdNX6ORMnea1RIFgcQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVXZtI05_m5Y2ApNXcaN2dx6_ZMR0B5OkGQCceJTrd8jbbDvhZeFv9DddYVWEEtB-5WgZ-UAfdBHOB74u3bhtum8_QpGugPgi6rzbOhPyt7ekoafHxfReea7ihjmsMEAAhc-WaN77vi8pWJP5QTrvq70H7k3datIXUN9vawi9IYrcBDyphqyth55J8Gw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVXZtI05_m5Y2ApNXcaN2dx6_ZMR0B5OkGQCceJTrd8jbbDvhZeFv9DddYVWEEtB-5WgZ-UAfdBHOB74u3bhtum8_QpGugPgi6rzbOhPyt7ekoafHxfReea7ihjmsMEAAhc-WaN77vi8pWJP5QTrvq70H7k3datIXUN9vawi9IYrcBDyphqyth55J8Gw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9u1J7c18jNB0GjJxHaBnTPn3xukZAi4cTYORbDCkrtTaesUjd0xLJRshXCCk9aRvPhB5dr3DrB4lsPTCVIiEoPl2bKRsr-8CpdptA8HmFYM0Bw_-N_uVjgdarEnbEXvIDzRAqD2OKknDDQ3h7y2hkSNDMM2OoIQ_S2w09xw4T4WnGVGbuMU-38Ub3yA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9u1J7c18jNB0GjJxHaBnTPn3xukZAi4cTYORbDCkrtTaesUjd0xLJRshXCCk9aRvPhB5dr3DrB4lsPTCVIiEoPl2bKRsr-8CpdptA8HmFYM0Bw_-N_uVjgdarEnbEXvIDzRAqD2OKknDDQ3h7y2hkSNDMM2OoIQ_S2w09xw4T4WnGVGbuMU-38Ub3yA=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQtTBtvM0EUymVhj8F5moZ-zkmDyFEf3JLqylz5W4-RHYlETZltBjXW9uonloPSDasWuRPPN9jXViXqA2lAcA795YUxeR0HVWuj14SUFVjBAb7Q5RGVJL5CiZ5VEXWYR9MlPUy8bbxSlJAPsxDRgIvJLzRrKjUQ4kQHgwt9tiiP1bgI0rnynKUr2-4Cg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQtTBtvM0EUymVhj8F5moZ-zkmDyFEf3JLqylz5W4-RHYlETZltBjXW9uonloPSDasWuRPPN9jXViXqA2lAcA795YUxeR0HVWuj14SUFVjBAb7Q5RGVJL5CiZ5VEXWYR9MlPUy8bbxSlJAPsxDRgIvJLzRrKjUQ4kQHgwt9tiiP1bgI0rnynKUr2-4Cg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUvNNu0uz2XajJgFuQ_KMbSyd419V8X6AoDOtwEg5IOX3T3IOfAzzXKeY4r7VOz-ZOv2KXUN_2dxZuHDCHyhSP1I3bU7q5KOu9gJAYui-oFCqXP2wAGlKWCtAb-uEA1KEhjaiYiADYZfFh9j65TRvAWYledz2fckcQR6tGrQqqrQkUJCf4BZJtvM-rzA=s1600" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgUvNNu0uz2XajJgFuQ_KMbSyd419V8X6AoDOtwEg5IOX3T3IOfAzzXKeY4r7VOz-ZOv2KXUN_2dxZuHDCHyhSP1I3bU7q5KOu9gJAYui-oFCqXP2wAGlKWCtAb-uEA1KEhjaiYiADYZfFh9j65TRvAWYledz2fckcQR6tGrQqqrQkUJCf4BZJtvM-rzA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div>Going into this 38th cycle, I wanted to honour a few aspects which have incorporated into this new curve of the spiral:<br /><br />1. My Professor Vader Bhaer. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I have never been a pet person nor have ever had an animal in my home. Yet now, every morning a black cat leaps on to my bed and purrs over my shoulder. Not only does he leave all my plants and decor alone, but he rubs up against my leg when the pellet litter needs a change, (so my house does not smell as much as I feared) and gives me ample alone time. He loves each of my kids, only meows in the morning if he notices one of us is not up yet (he meows at that door) but otherwise is not very vocal. He rolls into me, stomach up, when I am brushing him and it's adorable. I call him my sweetheart and baby. He is the pet I always hoped to have. He was one of the greatest gifts of my 37th year. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVczPhuT6XENhrRcBZPcKDCzmuQSEZPMJbAdx4OtPQ7cY2tJntmiE7ei3kpZy6GfErRUqTDjDrb06gM8twi33P4SszHnQObcgIePkmqyZa45U_JuYLJUb_JDCD9ASrUI9s88rilFaAs7bfyqDR3iEHaEmbmzVQP5BBN0U8e5-L3QXJtSisBTVawQd4CA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1577" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhVczPhuT6XENhrRcBZPcKDCzmuQSEZPMJbAdx4OtPQ7cY2tJntmiE7ei3kpZy6GfErRUqTDjDrb06gM8twi33P4SszHnQObcgIePkmqyZa45U_JuYLJUb_JDCD9ASrUI9s88rilFaAs7bfyqDR3iEHaEmbmzVQP5BBN0U8e5-L3QXJtSisBTVawQd4CA=s320" width="246" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcIL5GpD62L-x_Kte7-i3WFYCN1lLsKvxKoQA_nzXubjxXAF0nqgxCTUknEx1dQgMPfLfCOcw9C4hr6O6mRK53TG12ccDcE4F4Cmx6g2TCvjCCBH0G_PQX9OpyYV2UbzsHZ23n2ORXUlI1KUWjdHAPbocZjmTkbcGp_R8U5n_1h6wLkuGkRT22wpaP9Q=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgcIL5GpD62L-x_Kte7-i3WFYCN1lLsKvxKoQA_nzXubjxXAF0nqgxCTUknEx1dQgMPfLfCOcw9C4hr6O6mRK53TG12ccDcE4F4Cmx6g2TCvjCCBH0G_PQX9OpyYV2UbzsHZ23n2ORXUlI1KUWjdHAPbocZjmTkbcGp_R8U5n_1h6wLkuGkRT22wpaP9Q=s320" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKHmjFP0IK3EXKypUHIr3TWpZnSih7cJS0kSrH0wXvce_cuw46nlnV4OrlyoTo3nTYlHIu7cBbSGMY-QVDShNlRnxM-YJ5s50oO9At1eBh0muT94sEpN3Lm5a_IJgftrhkhK82O6LhTKgWsx8ve8niEwJ1F6RdJf3FKt6HBUw1jNUreLpOaaHpafc_xw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKHmjFP0IK3EXKypUHIr3TWpZnSih7cJS0kSrH0wXvce_cuw46nlnV4OrlyoTo3nTYlHIu7cBbSGMY-QVDShNlRnxM-YJ5s50oO9At1eBh0muT94sEpN3Lm5a_IJgftrhkhK82O6LhTKgWsx8ve8niEwJ1F6RdJf3FKt6HBUw1jNUreLpOaaHpafc_xw=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHZmeI7njcQQ7hDxzqVEeg4vPnogwc4yjo3fdK_4-2Mjbj84yPwMoZVDDtGsf0XecFeymnx7TjvyZqKeeaJmRugoxgMLxFRCLZUf2vDIhkyJkNzGY2KVbGnLjFp7VG8RZHuAROq-uTaonE4Uwu8UHNycU68M4KZLWisRUw6Yk9-D-fMOy7xjXgfhY-8w=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1859" data-original-width="2048" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHZmeI7njcQQ7hDxzqVEeg4vPnogwc4yjo3fdK_4-2Mjbj84yPwMoZVDDtGsf0XecFeymnx7TjvyZqKeeaJmRugoxgMLxFRCLZUf2vDIhkyJkNzGY2KVbGnLjFp7VG8RZHuAROq-uTaonE4Uwu8UHNycU68M4KZLWisRUw6Yk9-D-fMOy7xjXgfhY-8w=s320" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh73-W3qYUHowGk5x9l0W8wCmVdjmlKXS6uROBwlhNBi_GtdL5s_n_8FX9wb-4hyPmDs3b94UcFAOxsnKpZiW3NIYFS4MJYbIP9sNtAgr-o0eDl0P11CW2_XfA6oOUSo_0OZbp21UhHOvY3a6serGfLS2kUH4V4EGri40FesoDzYsDydPrBoO6uSxf21g=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh73-W3qYUHowGk5x9l0W8wCmVdjmlKXS6uROBwlhNBi_GtdL5s_n_8FX9wb-4hyPmDs3b94UcFAOxsnKpZiW3NIYFS4MJYbIP9sNtAgr-o0eDl0P11CW2_XfA6oOUSo_0OZbp21UhHOvY3a6serGfLS2kUH4V4EGri40FesoDzYsDydPrBoO6uSxf21g=s320" width="240" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh73-W3qYUHowGk5x9l0W8wCmVdjmlKXS6uROBwlhNBi_GtdL5s_n_8FX9wb-4hyPmDs3b94UcFAOxsnKpZiW3NIYFS4MJYbIP9sNtAgr-o0eDl0P11CW2_XfA6oOUSo_0OZbp21UhHOvY3a6serGfLS2kUH4V4EGri40FesoDzYsDydPrBoO6uSxf21g=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOL3sex9vDCOnMW8wcewKEZ8cAL1xViYMDD11KV-1kDQ5jJia3D7xuuGqCnZIzJvjM4RhSUuKVb6oV_1Sdb3iLfzWmYhfIWM3u6kPWXnOojpAk-mtBBVlPooFEpqaQp8rbsa7bSVbZP2AN/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="320" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOL3sex9vDCOnMW8wcewKEZ8cAL1xViYMDD11KV-1kDQ5jJia3D7xuuGqCnZIzJvjM4RhSUuKVb6oV_1Sdb3iLfzWmYhfIWM3u6kPWXnOojpAk-mtBBVlPooFEpqaQp8rbsa7bSVbZP2AN/w320-h308/image.png" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinUpKbAyqf5N6ggdetaz8BpAeLJBP7Rep2nJTZPRCCzq56xLQYwc8kgVbI24iqxY1Bzed-pf3IRN9Qp8tEL16z4wwB0MWysrei3-wx6J8ikcrM2NjFbyp23uh8rNGntSfAvQ9vUV1tsF0JiLzIHu98J-ZlKj4ZiMt8piKCYcUGZxIkyVLx7irTwoTr-Q=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinUpKbAyqf5N6ggdetaz8BpAeLJBP7Rep2nJTZPRCCzq56xLQYwc8kgVbI24iqxY1Bzed-pf3IRN9Qp8tEL16z4wwB0MWysrei3-wx6J8ikcrM2NjFbyp23uh8rNGntSfAvQ9vUV1tsF0JiLzIHu98J-ZlKj4ZiMt8piKCYcUGZxIkyVLx7irTwoTr-Q=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br />2. Country stuff</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's in my roots, my story, my genetics, and my heart. But some seasons I forget, neglect or am down right embarrassed of my down home roots. This time around, they have given my hope, fuelled inspiration, provided breaks of simple comfort, and given epic freedom. Plus, my guy is still so hot when he dresses up as a cowboy...which he also did when we were dating, just for me. He found a 450 dollar hat, with the label and name still in it, at the thrift store for ten dollars...and let me just say, he ROCKS it. We found boots at another thrift store a couple weeks later that fit him perfectly. Another few hundred dollars worth item marked down to 15 bucks! My house and our whole wardrobes are thrifted or gifted.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I may be a proud thrifter, moonstone wearing, symbol loving, glitter glam, candle lighting, lover of all things sparkly gal...but why limit myself to one genre of BEING?<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinhPP8gSfbh3jfAZsI-UuTHFPM6P4muO40VVowhgv-Pg1mH6ibTZwJkhbeYrrzLrV3TBX1h_0xTUcCMn2zM5cT9t1ftN8Lol5JG_AhMFMBE58Gx4fLbls2ftQ6XTj1bldlU4RDlEfF2qJx6y8Rwq6mxZTgGeMz1-JcH10BoEaPDxu-Rkg7m0_q2peZBA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinhPP8gSfbh3jfAZsI-UuTHFPM6P4muO40VVowhgv-Pg1mH6ibTZwJkhbeYrrzLrV3TBX1h_0xTUcCMn2zM5cT9t1ftN8Lol5JG_AhMFMBE58Gx4fLbls2ftQ6XTj1bldlU4RDlEfF2qJx6y8Rwq6mxZTgGeMz1-JcH10BoEaPDxu-Rkg7m0_q2peZBA=w300-h400" width="300" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgM8TVGdF8qE4y9wNPiIcEvd52q3OefCrkT7PyYHWaYu55v7WxwK5vbSMQU63ksA2vOVD0sAp0Fq7cw_50XcjcT4xaa6v306GUoQPGbcEnSHEy7wRHtMjpRexCekcJMKzxbTLrK_1oo5N2StqFtyhuqBfPvFso5Ymi2zIlyK8RctIC5B0Kh6Je8idCpkw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgM8TVGdF8qE4y9wNPiIcEvd52q3OefCrkT7PyYHWaYu55v7WxwK5vbSMQU63ksA2vOVD0sAp0Fq7cw_50XcjcT4xaa6v306GUoQPGbcEnSHEy7wRHtMjpRexCekcJMKzxbTLrK_1oo5N2StqFtyhuqBfPvFso5Ymi2zIlyK8RctIC5B0Kh6Je8idCpkw=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCuJftNKmw9g39U70Ah1s1A5xJoh6ABtcRrtAgNTEZT9IIyWqNgs7vR_LKxe6aZfbRk8H5lnXqSkLB-IHc6CXL_aJQM7ksxMM2e6HaZgd9SlmR1dwSuG3GRGbVDYYo69fZCvCLq66HPuWT4itj4Q6I8og16g2t_xTCeR2uulffusZJzF3lizgDxK_xpg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCuJftNKmw9g39U70Ah1s1A5xJoh6ABtcRrtAgNTEZT9IIyWqNgs7vR_LKxe6aZfbRk8H5lnXqSkLB-IHc6CXL_aJQM7ksxMM2e6HaZgd9SlmR1dwSuG3GRGbVDYYo69fZCvCLq66HPuWT4itj4Q6I8og16g2t_xTCeR2uulffusZJzF3lizgDxK_xpg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2ZdmElhn5qBKdxuc5e2RP2d46KdJG8ZprQHBz3VSmDvx5uqmRfpDlxvRFD5V2rKamZRtkof5ybDj9DIrOAIVl2ysJsUsjwi0dvFFBkJRKgnegTbfv7wXleqWQEfgKe6F61gowF45LKu28S-SHx2Bi5RLF_yleQi2uhzYMp-NwVm5z_PFUq5oiSnFuhw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2ZdmElhn5qBKdxuc5e2RP2d46KdJG8ZprQHBz3VSmDvx5uqmRfpDlxvRFD5V2rKamZRtkof5ybDj9DIrOAIVl2ysJsUsjwi0dvFFBkJRKgnegTbfv7wXleqWQEfgKe6F61gowF45LKu28S-SHx2Bi5RLF_yleQi2uhzYMp-NwVm5z_PFUq5oiSnFuhw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">3.) More hugs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The tragic day my brother in law died, I was holding our kids, his kids and family so much, that the next day, when I lifted my arm in the way that happens with hugs, I realized it was a strained muscle. My eldest son teased,"It's called hugging mom. I know it's a foreign concept to you beyond our walls." And I realized maybe those muscles need more exercise. Perhaps hugs are not fully the sensory overload I once needed strong boundaries upon? I disliked people pulling me in to their zones, smells, and textures. Sometimes, I still am not prepared or feel the need for space...but I am finding myself pulling more people in to my space willingly, and taking it for the gift of sharing exchange that it is. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIoq4D__OzUEOTWHnWOdgGsJSDvSi2VNvZezZdtpIA18Jvh1cyHPZ9MKDHZ0NRJgTsL-59Pm5tdRPFE9pM2FGi2DsMpxV1GlY-o2MplyQJJWNc5s20IFQSi1o_xqI061fTWxlwdKEkr4E-1Lc_USAUab5rvvYlaWS6GW7Xm2ozsjomimIu_YEDoriSsA=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIoq4D__OzUEOTWHnWOdgGsJSDvSi2VNvZezZdtpIA18Jvh1cyHPZ9MKDHZ0NRJgTsL-59Pm5tdRPFE9pM2FGi2DsMpxV1GlY-o2MplyQJJWNc5s20IFQSi1o_xqI061fTWxlwdKEkr4E-1Lc_USAUab5rvvYlaWS6GW7Xm2ozsjomimIu_YEDoriSsA=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4mNurt3IU13IFGYgXQnpgxuWMIGxLw5fvHwklT7PKS8bQD3K3GNYCTziadGYVQZQB-HgcpqYv2zETZFUyPexICc-FZ-k5GNfPfL-gHFliOtDaUmJxI6_8i9XiNZ076gCZ78u-uTi_CWTkjcfHClgg3rtJWEduN5fYz6VbeRkyVuwNvSIcjvr4t3QCnA=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4mNurt3IU13IFGYgXQnpgxuWMIGxLw5fvHwklT7PKS8bQD3K3GNYCTziadGYVQZQB-HgcpqYv2zETZFUyPexICc-FZ-k5GNfPfL-gHFliOtDaUmJxI6_8i9XiNZ076gCZ78u-uTi_CWTkjcfHClgg3rtJWEduN5fYz6VbeRkyVuwNvSIcjvr4t3QCnA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJe2_9TD0tqyI6huyaes_CUAhQ-vr2P4gXd45Vo8jIRMXyEoERxO0CAMoh-g1Zv7vlJpmu1of-6-X6rYLBRIfC4gTPOyT5O74jDBgKHCAM598nQeWQj6bAuL9xLlWi1QG6TYi-kKz_7itjTDuRpbMWsLq9DkvrRmogsYNBKV17boZlRtdXvWpTCEcWzw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiJe2_9TD0tqyI6huyaes_CUAhQ-vr2P4gXd45Vo8jIRMXyEoERxO0CAMoh-g1Zv7vlJpmu1of-6-X6rYLBRIfC4gTPOyT5O74jDBgKHCAM598nQeWQj6bAuL9xLlWi1QG6TYi-kKz_7itjTDuRpbMWsLq9DkvrRmogsYNBKV17boZlRtdXvWpTCEcWzw=s320" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidogWJDt9iM5G751rsIah6pqfIsZT-dctwT3-e7GC1GvqFdZwb8UWl56FTNPqmefYZjhdJZf1E2epBep8pH9j0e-U_W0jGmb4HcqJstGSmiChgmajxK9IYmmTBQ2ybd9GhI5ZD5RfDdcVRSOkVYs87eghtrvQC7kmor7uu12-hRPs765dlmKByYXqmBg=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidogWJDt9iM5G751rsIah6pqfIsZT-dctwT3-e7GC1GvqFdZwb8UWl56FTNPqmefYZjhdJZf1E2epBep8pH9j0e-U_W0jGmb4HcqJstGSmiChgmajxK9IYmmTBQ2ybd9GhI5ZD5RfDdcVRSOkVYs87eghtrvQC7kmor7uu12-hRPs765dlmKByYXqmBg=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkGTy4CI_KwZrGSjkC6nmxjZ4rP6Bg5P4ygTrvQXxbCczy1H29RXhlFAR591i6BQKlmAThMtRivz1piSrqrBBm49nPU_hxkAL8OLG4HutBGWlMkc7UXzb0b9mTLbSH_k4e-MdkNgTdOaqai9kaGZIiP-NZ1jYteLIxiH5j7gxRvfx1ycriXpwXwzXNAQ=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkGTy4CI_KwZrGSjkC6nmxjZ4rP6Bg5P4ygTrvQXxbCczy1H29RXhlFAR591i6BQKlmAThMtRivz1piSrqrBBm49nPU_hxkAL8OLG4HutBGWlMkc7UXzb0b9mTLbSH_k4e-MdkNgTdOaqai9kaGZIiP-NZ1jYteLIxiH5j7gxRvfx1ycriXpwXwzXNAQ=s320" width="240" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgh_woZSZMfxKsp3950mt0RxU30ezF_-c_Hb3IRRBJpXBDPtYynif8hdXqq6ZbcBJSXTUITdXSZXqbls--cqO8k0xdPl4PHSBqqD65YyPyfISZy23b7Js7ifhx9ANAFbu3ek78eKeHy4RnkpVYHsqpZltNhgHZiIsgIs7RY899yQZ3xVu84IZiIVaAlfg=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgh_woZSZMfxKsp3950mt0RxU30ezF_-c_Hb3IRRBJpXBDPtYynif8hdXqq6ZbcBJSXTUITdXSZXqbls--cqO8k0xdPl4PHSBqqD65YyPyfISZy23b7Js7ifhx9ANAFbu3ek78eKeHy4RnkpVYHsqpZltNhgHZiIsgIs7RY899yQZ3xVu84IZiIVaAlfg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br />4. Sunday Soccer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ok, maybe I do not play...sometimes due to weather, I don't even show up as a spectator 'till it's almost over. But I can see the happenings from my window across the field and hear the shouts. I love the community of it. I love seeing normal life participating in team work. I am not a sports person by any means, but I appreciate that sports can bring people together, like many other activities I may not do (like trivia games.) Being a witness to a flexible type of sport, where it's not about competition as much as it community building, allowing the newbies to get the ball and learn, and encourage anyone to join, at any time, at any age...well, that is it's own magic.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhK553wDePdzSUitXbHuDS1iac0xptQ5hzoCT5lkGunmmF0XEl_Y5h-TTT2CT0-Ju1XrlqznwNe2LtKuMs4dt2wo2x7bG8PvYHk7y8bkRXelTRxz6Q2HYmeh7tALgOkC0c6pXimt5pygU72_dWyB66VQPhluj_3Qw88wihpgF8fo6Hib2xqfHx2gw_lWQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhK553wDePdzSUitXbHuDS1iac0xptQ5hzoCT5lkGunmmF0XEl_Y5h-TTT2CT0-Ju1XrlqznwNe2LtKuMs4dt2wo2x7bG8PvYHk7y8bkRXelTRxz6Q2HYmeh7tALgOkC0c6pXimt5pygU72_dWyB66VQPhluj_3Qw88wihpgF8fo6Hib2xqfHx2gw_lWQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">5.) My kids jobs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Honestly, we have been so blessed to find jobs that are safe, secure and within their giftings during this season. Plus, flexible in hours enough to also have school, drivers experience, and home time. This new spiral has been home to many layered phases that are built upon old growth patterns.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgIa2TRCYxj3rwD2svSmzWMaEA0v34pdf2A54xUvjAIxyYd09JiT4M_HiB1MkJUj4C3mlHtipu2tntLtiZLc4EUzYMBoD8JfKrak8vlkKbdM17amu9gm09uCfT6NgY7KhyRpmrx3Ce63tO0LLQoFQPV3Cfk3q9irbVoBkC6D5HNIrfxjgAGorW3x_T7A=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgIa2TRCYxj3rwD2svSmzWMaEA0v34pdf2A54xUvjAIxyYd09JiT4M_HiB1MkJUj4C3mlHtipu2tntLtiZLc4EUzYMBoD8JfKrak8vlkKbdM17amu9gm09uCfT6NgY7KhyRpmrx3Ce63tO0LLQoFQPV3Cfk3q9irbVoBkC6D5HNIrfxjgAGorW3x_T7A=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglDpXZGz8m0PJWUJ5CFFn0JzJcXgpBc4NfuhuyKJAZNiBz-DZTq6GaXMGnMXBBUn7Fmll4QvjwoLruhY4NUVvbUzQBbc-kEeE-cyokqZI7UyPi7PumUW8ARTAL-TpLdMvu2r8NdsLmGjXFEA3gte1OSxF32aFzpZktPsrU54sSNvxrvTUb_udCxVlGNg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglDpXZGz8m0PJWUJ5CFFn0JzJcXgpBc4NfuhuyKJAZNiBz-DZTq6GaXMGnMXBBUn7Fmll4QvjwoLruhY4NUVvbUzQBbc-kEeE-cyokqZI7UyPi7PumUW8ARTAL-TpLdMvu2r8NdsLmGjXFEA3gte1OSxF32aFzpZktPsrU54sSNvxrvTUb_udCxVlGNg=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgey-zSoZAZkwa6PRArewfQLyEZ7tyd12mZvnv1zsAs8En2NkInCVLShTwhmjOFZW6P1uyXzj_oC6dwl5NZULoEGxNjR8TRQF_EPs16EBxA6vh74itbePWxmuUCWoBkb6gi7--104bJkXp7AxYsrZfOfyuLGtTjk4AXI991-UEvInG69Jt7Tcu2-D7Yw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgey-zSoZAZkwa6PRArewfQLyEZ7tyd12mZvnv1zsAs8En2NkInCVLShTwhmjOFZW6P1uyXzj_oC6dwl5NZULoEGxNjR8TRQF_EPs16EBxA6vh74itbePWxmuUCWoBkb6gi7--104bJkXp7AxYsrZfOfyuLGtTjk4AXI991-UEvInG69Jt7Tcu2-D7Yw=s320" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjg2lbpec470L7K_V4JQbhkSPUxg8lBuCXzX5mFrfAD5Mi7ckNzAARbBf68dGdxaZfMEH-ErcF1Y4D4i5xzTOtJU0ac4hw49TstAAJD94VZVAuaok2XJuYKtq4xZ2-iJIHw0O_CUZNJBKw0skOnnqDOIVRHNHwUFg5LRaqWRsVAXEDa-lOefh5HLXwjTQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjg2lbpec470L7K_V4JQbhkSPUxg8lBuCXzX5mFrfAD5Mi7ckNzAARbBf68dGdxaZfMEH-ErcF1Y4D4i5xzTOtJU0ac4hw49TstAAJD94VZVAuaok2XJuYKtq4xZ2-iJIHw0O_CUZNJBKw0skOnnqDOIVRHNHwUFg5LRaqWRsVAXEDa-lOefh5HLXwjTQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>37 turns around the wheel. The dawn of 38 is around the next bend. I am grateful for it all. Of course, there are sprinkled memories I wish I could change a bit...but I wouldn't be whom I am today without those hardships...and this is not the perfection we ache for often. This is messy, gritty, painful, emotional yet simple, joyous, chaotically organized, euphoric, stately LIFE. My cup runneth over. Thank you dear World for so many Ace of cups moments. Thank you for the experiences which shape, destroy, protect, take and give. Thank you for shooting stars, grass stains, dandelions, twinkle lights, front porch sitting, Elvis singing, Kelly Clarkson Christmas new tuning, multiple Christmas decorating, mistake making, grace giving moments. Thank you that I do not have to <i>earn</i> love given freely, self improve for the sake of saving myself, or constantly prove I am worthy to exist. Although god knows, I fall into the trap of all the above regularly. But deep down, I know, at my core, that we are all worthy to exist, because here we are. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7vVrJUz3N0wMC9cPkc9SH65Ngm6cFchs5i-_GyGpS5mz4Mxhm-T9WCU_aztpDxry575RGt2wczlZKaRA-1tOtMzGw4fz609saRJ6os4nQNWVDHBUUBkdj_Ytf_NubtytjFek0N4uXfr77Ub1lAvXava2HYqm8giUBhtijZMGaaLlouxIrokWJi4yLDg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7vVrJUz3N0wMC9cPkc9SH65Ngm6cFchs5i-_GyGpS5mz4Mxhm-T9WCU_aztpDxry575RGt2wczlZKaRA-1tOtMzGw4fz609saRJ6os4nQNWVDHBUUBkdj_Ytf_NubtytjFek0N4uXfr77Ub1lAvXava2HYqm8giUBhtijZMGaaLlouxIrokWJi4yLDg=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4lEMK7_lJd-bfKO8RcmUV6qJKmJw_GFw-4Mg-trl8z41H8cIhFd78myT8-Ag3EG987TTLQdAeaErPHvvPVQYXc-HvDNiLPwvo98mx2OePIgfXEEHhG5qLkuzuMck67CI6_lQbdDyIwoZRwCPKRgJ3egntyb6nRGKMOId9rWGJp63VlY4a_FWQY9ri5w=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4lEMK7_lJd-bfKO8RcmUV6qJKmJw_GFw-4Mg-trl8z41H8cIhFd78myT8-Ag3EG987TTLQdAeaErPHvvPVQYXc-HvDNiLPwvo98mx2OePIgfXEEHhG5qLkuzuMck67CI6_lQbdDyIwoZRwCPKRgJ3egntyb6nRGKMOId9rWGJp63VlY4a_FWQY9ri5w=s320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7Nc6bdWVDRBkR_E9R_bKkMISNkNJ_h_VOd6o9Bwn62wO9-4PwMrNEcL4m4K5PMiQfJi1Lc-LnC9NU7hvEbI_LXb8J0cR52rj4SFfMapC4kHcr_f1FrfuT8Bpqs-UGcTiJmW0BhVat0amno5AnSx8awwOdqpbuQ6jKXkOgxmyaVzSVM0RRUIxMinVIkA=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh7Nc6bdWVDRBkR_E9R_bKkMISNkNJ_h_VOd6o9Bwn62wO9-4PwMrNEcL4m4K5PMiQfJi1Lc-LnC9NU7hvEbI_LXb8J0cR52rj4SFfMapC4kHcr_f1FrfuT8Bpqs-UGcTiJmW0BhVat0amno5AnSx8awwOdqpbuQ6jKXkOgxmyaVzSVM0RRUIxMinVIkA=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixuZ82ECa3Mb8o_ZMu2FfIF3tlwyZQSF-8y-l_HXeF7S2HCiIAx8Cn0ImNloO0LED-NX6glUInJ3hSt3u-vB4u31RF_T0mbVKg_Ppho6SUcfEi_5VSZaK_WqgBPHDKSc07x8fvSKIuDmhkvpzde3M7lsZyEgqgdlPJ1vDowrAh263zfs9P8ltzYVRcbw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1789" data-original-width="2048" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixuZ82ECa3Mb8o_ZMu2FfIF3tlwyZQSF-8y-l_HXeF7S2HCiIAx8Cn0ImNloO0LED-NX6glUInJ3hSt3u-vB4u31RF_T0mbVKg_Ppho6SUcfEi_5VSZaK_WqgBPHDKSc07x8fvSKIuDmhkvpzde3M7lsZyEgqgdlPJ1vDowrAh263zfs9P8ltzYVRcbw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm just glad to be here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1oO4Nf9NyW2SaljAjzgyWYHfLN2FvYALqyb4aYuLORrsR0Lz2edSE8aMtRuN_9mgRky9KICclmlTu851hA9dKk2KQsbmpgD2SOnyw_PAtM39Q9RW5AF5Dfwz3LXEpMREE6J9JhVonOF7hMKNn-gwL0vz7N70icSHmWHDRfD4NHy_7-x3L8ys9GuJAxg=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1oO4Nf9NyW2SaljAjzgyWYHfLN2FvYALqyb4aYuLORrsR0Lz2edSE8aMtRuN_9mgRky9KICclmlTu851hA9dKk2KQsbmpgD2SOnyw_PAtM39Q9RW5AF5Dfwz3LXEpMREE6J9JhVonOF7hMKNn-gwL0vz7N70icSHmWHDRfD4NHy_7-x3L8ys9GuJAxg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgu33OKbzSbPqKNta8sRygzUQmppGCa6w8DwUNIQJ5egQX-Br9qQxjcOejgsc-s8-Q4L7WVEdE3bEB2U7G843l___utgyDHl_omPmZoADZqec2qPYQ0jdx_KU7MHARM7J53zJrxT4lAwWHRIuced5lF8eILBK76AABrEtaYHy7SJ7wmi1rudhpUQfUJHA=s161" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgu33OKbzSbPqKNta8sRygzUQmppGCa6w8DwUNIQJ5egQX-Br9qQxjcOejgsc-s8-Q4L7WVEdE3bEB2U7G843l___utgyDHl_omPmZoADZqec2qPYQ0jdx_KU7MHARM7J53zJrxT4lAwWHRIuced5lF8eILBK76AABrEtaYHy7SJ7wmi1rudhpUQfUJHA" width="161" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">P.S. In full transparency- I’m notoriously terrible at my actual birthday day. I mourn that I don’t know what I want to eat or do or whom I am this ONE day -every.single.year. Any other day and I know exactly what I want! This year I keep my own words in my heart ( and I meant every word ) but I did get my terrible period. I was found staring into a depressive void and suddenly realizing my children were surrounding me in a Little Women style ( that luckily my hubby captured below) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnThvqfE7ZTrOFPDb42fjPCswgr5xSU5ebCW5b0K0bvJr9Ed1VmmSLj9cPcQihMMe914QfWaUDuA4zCLSmWheW8QiRZKGTKKTyCcZS3L4Jv0Fz5BjTJwf1LTnhbr3w2r3fYOq-VfhcVZEtcfhFavwLs0Vf4cbwWyQ79gB00zPkMWfuB7P30ZmuGK0tyQ=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnThvqfE7ZTrOFPDb42fjPCswgr5xSU5ebCW5b0K0bvJr9Ed1VmmSLj9cPcQihMMe914QfWaUDuA4zCLSmWheW8QiRZKGTKKTyCcZS3L4Jv0Fz5BjTJwf1LTnhbr3w2r3fYOq-VfhcVZEtcfhFavwLs0Vf4cbwWyQ79gB00zPkMWfuB7P30ZmuGK0tyQ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /> I may have laid on the ground in pain while my family piled blankets on me… and then my daughter joined first and tried to match my facial expressions with hers, which made me laugh a lot- and each of my precious life savers joined in the antics - and immediately my day was salvaged; </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFzsPxleE29LvV_xIg_fbACbJnT_1eIYNLIV9S1xe6mpGKE2CdBTCL4edQy4AKIDBlepRvpWQMrqt1HtYGMSpf6qJWA1uA4GJNYEZ9IPoRYHkJ_e2Z2BO-F7_DtTCfZC6i_JoypEsa8_bQIvMEtbqkwC8yMigkCYffRlwGynAv9eySzCdLz9Skz2RsUw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgFzsPxleE29LvV_xIg_fbACbJnT_1eIYNLIV9S1xe6mpGKE2CdBTCL4edQy4AKIDBlepRvpWQMrqt1HtYGMSpf6qJWA1uA4GJNYEZ9IPoRYHkJ_e2Z2BO-F7_DtTCfZC6i_JoypEsa8_bQIvMEtbqkwC8yMigkCYffRlwGynAv9eySzCdLz9Skz2RsUw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgANFf8uE6Qg5P3eLrAACQiBm3-InpQVu4CXYvctGECd9JILXoZK0cYTkxa7D2zYJXhbllfc3mHVJKJ0u-cG-AKcHYygz7zs5Q9h9v5WWvq_xesE_hWay-jU1FyjKFUuy8DWVEXMyqhVDy0M1czoEV3JQsm7vfHsZFKTrBj7Vw8lO9_vh-kVsmtWPj8w=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgANFf8uE6Qg5P3eLrAACQiBm3-InpQVu4CXYvctGECd9JILXoZK0cYTkxa7D2zYJXhbllfc3mHVJKJ0u-cG-AKcHYygz7zs5Q9h9v5WWvq_xesE_hWay-jU1FyjKFUuy8DWVEXMyqhVDy0M1czoEV3JQsm7vfHsZFKTrBj7Vw8lO9_vh-kVsmtWPj8w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijvxdt7G-L6Wya-todbTPFsdONBo0912ykbFZxQp8ebg9HqIUh4VhUlTwQLVjJeO_xgekuEARQEGQYYhL28r2OQz6NmweU6LdYfk0zEMC_8hCnIiZNe8IBmjaUPNYF3b3AGs1TzPkG-VQFAJQF4qLiPe6eOVPKR-y68z97T0E1Zy6AbhElW-J9xytKjw=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijvxdt7G-L6Wya-todbTPFsdONBo0912ykbFZxQp8ebg9HqIUh4VhUlTwQLVjJeO_xgekuEARQEGQYYhL28r2OQz6NmweU6LdYfk0zEMC_8hCnIiZNe8IBmjaUPNYF3b3AGs1TzPkG-VQFAJQF4qLiPe6eOVPKR-y68z97T0E1Zy6AbhElW-J9xytKjw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Good birthday news: remember Rasby? My thyroid nodule? For 8 years I’ve had to monitor it via ultrasound and finally it has shrunk enough to not warrant concern. I held off biopsies and such cuz I hate medical intervention if not absolutely necessary - and now I’m in the clear for malignancy ! I’m so thankful - the Specialist kept chuckling at me thanking him for some reason - but I’m happy. One less medical anomaly to worry about:) happy birthday to me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: start;">Song Choice: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBmV8iP89SQ" target="_blank">St. Patricks Day- Darren Criss</a> "Here comes the cold, break out the winter clothes and find a love to call your own. You. Into you. Your cheeks the shade of pink and the rest of you in powder blue. Who knows what will be, who knows what we'' bring, but I'll make you this guarantee. See, No way November will see our goodbye. When it comes to December, it's obvious why... Oh we should take a ride tonight around the town and look at all the beautiful houses. Something in the way the blue light on the black night can make you feel more. Everybody it seems to me, just wants to be just like you and me. If our always is all that we gave, then we someday take that away..."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QBmV8iP89SQ" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-66239135093304896442021-10-16T16:21:00.033-07:002022-04-13T09:18:43.860-07:00'Vaccine Apartheid'? Who is it really who have not had vaccines? What about Aboriginals and Black and Latino Groups? What about Autistics and the MTHFR gene? Is there room for Diversity, Compassion & Unity? I dreamt of Russell Brand.<p>Is compassion only for like minded people? Are the minorities in society worth consideration? Are the very people that typically fight politically and spiritually for diversity, forgetting the minorities and diversity of others in their current positions in society? When we regard those as different from us, as the "bad," the "wrong," the "ones who deserve to die," or with statements like; "They should not be given healthcare" or "They should be left behind- they are taking up our hospital beds"... Are we considering context? Are we actually considering the vulnerable? Could the vulnerable also be included in some of the people who can not or will not take the vaccines?</p><p>Apparently our global population is 7,929, 833, 700 as of my writing. It has been said by health organizations that only 3 percent of people have adverse reactions or die from the shot. According to my calculator that is 237,895,011 people of the world. Do those millions not get a voice? Is it not reasonable to consider that their 3 percent chance of adverse affects (or even death) is higher than the one percent possibility of them dying from Covid 19 Virus? Is it a completely cut and dry issue? Is blame and shame loving your neighbour or even your enemy? I understand that it is certainly easier to love those on the same page as us. It's easier to love those like us right? Because we are in the right obviously. Right?? Love is mercy, it does not judge, it does not boast and it submits in service to other people's choice. No one said it would be easy.</p><p>In the case of vaccines and each person’s<span style="background-color: white;"> personal </span>choice- I am truly Switzerland. People dislike that. I have been accused of being Anti- Vaccination. I have also been accused of being Pro Vaccine. Both have been said in testy tones of judgement. Let me be clear- I am FOR individual choice and context. I believe in CHOICE. Bodily autonomy matters. We have choices when it comes to having children or not, life changing surgeries, and any other important decision- so why is the exception being made in the one case of vaccinations? Why is diversity suddenly a non issue? Did it disappear? Are we suddenly all the same in reactions, genetics (check into the MTHFR gene for example), socio economic status and vulnerabilities? So the previous conversations of "privilege" in our society no longer apply to vaccinations? Are there people who are more able to take time off of work for any perceived side effects, or stay at home when needed, or can find other jobs if they can not take the vaccine, in perhaps a place of "privilege"? There is so much more to this picture than "conspiracy." </p><p>I believe my vaccine status is private. I feel that vaccines can be an incredible gift. I believe that there are different populations whom are affected by this choice more than others. For instance, Aboriginal people are more likely to experience adverse side effects. My uncle, whom is Aboriginal, died from the vaccine but it went un reported. Another family member had to be rushed to the hospital and it again, went unreported. I don't know why this is, but I do know that in emergency situations, reporting may not always be accurate. We need to assume that if a certain population is experiencing more side effects or death (like the Aboriginal leader on La Crete reserve) that they have a right to be wary. There are those who suffer auto immune conditions that the vaccine can protect but then there are those that are higher risk with the vaccine BECAUSE of their conditions.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I celebrate that many people can take the vaccine with no ill effects! Including, also, many other Aboriginal people. That is fabulous. With the over 71% vaccination rate in Canada, my country, people should be confident in the decision they have made and that it is working. Living in fear or blaming the unvaccinated for the current medical crisis is a gross negligence of the greater, complex picture. I have a friend whom has heart issues who feels like the vaccine could kill her and I have another friend with different heart issues who felt like the vaccine saved her life. Is one wrong and the other right? Can they both be RIGHT in their own contexts, listening to their own intuition and bodily needs and gut reactions?</p><p>I can state what I do not believe in, nor ever have. I do not believe in force. Forcing someone to do something by mandate or by making their life increasingly difficult, so that a choice is no longer a choice is not ethical, to me personally. Throwing ethics around on each side and giving blanket statements is not my favourite approach either. I have had many conversations since the vaccine came into mainstream health over the last few months. Many of my friends have Christian backgrounds, and many have stated to me what Jesus or God would do. I have been told he would NEVER take the vaccine and I have also been told he absolutely would. Both sides were strong in that conviction and had arguments to back themselves up. Could I offer a third option? Jesus was above the law in many regards while also respecting aspects of it. Often Jesus spoke about root issues instead of what people wanted him to speak on. He was controversial and threw over temple tables. He could be harsh and he was compassionate but it was always based on context. He looked at the individual. He held lepers. He reamed out hypocrites. I don't think we can say what he would do, in regards to taking the vaccine, because it was always the unexpected. But could it be possible that for different people, he would lay down his life and his choices for them differently depending on context? Could that be possible?</p><p>I also believe in self regulation and stepping back from hate to see context. Did you know that most of the people that are not taking vaccines are people of colour? Hispanics, Aboriginals, and Black people make up one of two groups. The other is Christians. Let's look at why that is below.</p><p>Recently, I had a vivid dream of Russell Brand. Which was weird, because I have only seen him in one movie and knew of him vaguely from the Katy Perry Documentary years ago. His accent and looks were accurate in my dream, despite not knowing these things about him before I looked him up, which was a large sign to me that I should pay attention to what my subconscious was trying to tell me. In my dream, we talked about vaccine mandates, he was clever and witty but seemed to be on the same page as me..which again felt really odd upon waking... Thus I googled him with that in mind and found this video: <span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YfxnKgCN3OY">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YfxnKgCN3OY</a></span></p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YfxnKgCN3OY" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><div><br /></div><div>32- 2:20 : "Shaming is always a good technique to get people to do things. If we have learned one thing from protests and demonstrations from the last few years- it's the power of shame to get people to do what you want." (Yahoo news- Earlier this month, Lemon called out unvaccinated people for "taking up the space" in the hospitals from vaccinated people who are "playing by the rules." -End of Yahoo news bit) "That's an interesting bit of authoritarianism if you ask me. It is kind of devoid of compassion and is a very reductive type of argument, because we have not yet looked at what kind of people are not vaccinated and what their reasons might be for not being vaccinated. It doesn't seem to me that it should be simplistically assessed in that manner. That's why when I am always talking about it, I am keen to point out that I myself don't have a strong opinion on what your personal, private medical procedures might be. I am interested in a global perspective of a significant issue and how government, big pharma, and media all interact to create stories that then become truths, that lead to edicts such as this with public figures such as Don Lemon, fist on table, 'leave them behind, shun em, vaccine apartheid.' That kind of language has it's own kind of quality and it should never be applied saying 'this group of people' or 'It's a choice. It's a choice' but let me tell you there are other issues around choice, that people used to play out in different spheres of the political space. In bodily autonomy and choice. Segregation and inequality. It is very peculiar the way those rules are being discarded in order to facilitate the advantage of this narrative." </div><div><br /></div><div>The video goes on to to discuss a New York Times article that speaks upon two types of Americans whom are not getting the vaccine. The first: A mix of people but many are "white, rural, evangelical Christian and politically conservative." Russell Brand remarks at 2:40; "I suppose that comes from the perspective of liberty and libertarianism and if you are saying Christian and rural...they are defining themselves as Christian and their primary authority is a religious rather than government authority that they take their moral and ethical guidance from a spiritual or at least dogmatic (depending on your view of Christianity) rather than what the government wants."</div><div><br /></div><div>The New York times goes on to discuss the other group are open to the vaccine, but waiting to make their decisions. It states "They are a broad range of people, but tend to be a more diverse and urban group, including many younger people, Black and Latino Americans and Democrats." I personally would like to add, being from Canada and having Aboriginals in my ancestry (as well as Hispanic) that Aboriginals should also be included in this. I know many who have taken the vaccine and have been fine, but many whom are hesitant or whom have greatly suffered. I would also like to include the Autism community, of which I am a part of. Many who have the MTHFR gene. Since this vaccine has a genetic component, would it not be safe to assume that some genetics may not react or have body immersion the same as other genetic environments? Two years is not enough time to study that. Yes, many Autistic people I know believe in the vaccine. Some have been able to get it and others have not. Some have suffered or even died, while others have been perfectly fine...but is it ok for us to take that choice, with such diversity, and enforce it? Or to call these vulnerable people in society "uneducated" or lump them in with "murderers" or "those who cause chaos/death"? Are these statements compassion if we believe compassion is a virtue that has to extend to all, even those whom we disagree with or take different life paths? Are we actually seeing the individuals themselves? Are we even giving people the benefit of the doubt? Or are we assuming context?</div><div><br /></div><div>3:59 (Stats from the New York Times were screened before); "That in a sense, presents a broad range of views and I would say they are not ridiculous reasons. There is not a percentage of people that are like 'they are going to put a robot in your blood.' It is not like that is it? These are reasonable questions and inquiries, particularly in the climate and context that we are currently in. Most people are feeling a level of distrust...whether or not you believe they are safe, or whether or not they are safe."</div><div><br /></div><div>An article is shown onscreen from the Kaiser Family Foundation that states; "Many concerns about Covid-19 vaccinations are expressed at higher rates by people of colour compared to White adults." If we are anti racist- which I hope all whom are reading this ARE, than is this not an important fact to consider? If we are for diversity, are we considering the diverse issues surrounding this? The article goes on to talk about missing work from adverse affects (which many diverse economic groups can not afford) or getting to vaccine sites or payments (which does not apply to Canada), or needing types of documentation or providing social security numbers, wait and see groups, or free childcare for being vaccinated or recovering from it...it's layered and complex. </div><div><br /></div><div>5:34: "If your life is about survival...coping with the challenges of every day life, a situation I lived in for awhile and it seems like a long while ago now, but you are not thinking so much about like 'oh no...climate change...I'm ... starving...it doesn't seem so relevant." </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: white;">6:33: "So when you are talking about Don Lemon who says 'Ban em from beds!" You are talking about poor people, you are talking about people who are dealing with economic realities that someone in my position or Don Lemon's position do not have to concern themselves with...and if you are on the center of left you would not be dismissive about that category of people but in this context suddenly it becomes permissible?...It makes me question the true values of people in that political class. If they can be dismissive of people and groups that they elsewhere claim to be supportive of. Cuz when you put it in those terms you could say that Don Lemon is saying ' It's time to shun Black, Hispanic, Poor, Young people' Now he would never say that but you are saying that! That is what is being said. That is the danger of reductive, simplistic, propaganda driven news reporting."</span></div><div><u><br /></u></div><div>8:05 - 10:08: Russel Brand: "The reductiveness of Don Lemon's argument and other people advancing a sort of apartheid type rhetoric around the vaccine is not including the complexity of the issue. This shows you that there is no room for bombast in this argument, no room for hyperbole, condemnation "no we should leave them behind!" or "I'm not doing this!" Wherever you stand on the vaccine issue, <span style="background-color: white;">you are a human being like me, one day you are going to die, and I'm gonna die. Let's be kind to one another, and rational, and understanding, because otherwise what you are doing is venting anger from elsewhere in your character. </span>It's like 'I don't like life, I don't like people to do that. Grrr.' Become aware of that. Otherwise the vaccine issue will be resolved by either a vaccine will come around that people feel really confident in, or a government might come around that people really really trust...and that other stuff won't go away, because its unresolved. It's unresolved anger. Unresolved hysteria. For me, these statistics make plain that it is impossible to make Don Lemon style condemnations of people. Because imagine if you had childcare considerations, health concerns, were worried about the impact of the vaccine and your inability to deal with the side effects and cope with children.<span style="background-color: white;">..How can you be dismissive and so lacking in compassion when there is evident complexity around many people's lives when it comes to an issue as significant as this one. You can't afford to just wipe people away and shun people when you don't understand the circumstances in their lives. This shaming, the futility of bipolar, combative social discourse...Instead we should be compassionate, inclusive, considerate. "</span></div><div><br /></div><div>A clip is shown of Don Lemon saying we should shame and leave behind those whom are not listening to the science etc. I find that Russell's response is exactly what I would say at 10:25- 11:15; <span style="background-color: white;">"I would say there is a certain line that you can not cross. Particularly if your whole political party is about inclusivity, diversity, compassion..you can not say with this issue- this is the one issue. May I say that if you look at the science it seems that there is room for conversation in many of the areas that these statistics suggest are cause for concern....These are not things that you can just go "NO!" and swipe with a broad sword across a population of people...it seems that people who have been disadvantaged elsewhere that are worthy of compassion and certainly worthy of being heard." You, regardless of which side you are on, are worthy of being HEARD. You are worthy because you exist. Plain and simple.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></div><div>Recently<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> I had a response to an email I sent out about unity and vitamin regimes which the respondent stated; “I strongly believe that people who aren't vaccinated are causing significant damage to our health system and are affecting other people's lives by their decision so I really don't want to hear about people who have made that kind of decision." My response back was, <span style="font-family: inherit;">"V</span></span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">accines ARE a GIFT for those who can take them and I’m thankful for that ability. But for the minorities in genetics and reactions - it’s important to consider them :) We all affect the healthcare system in our choices for sure, but blaming each other probably doesn’t help our stress levels ♥️That said - I do agree that we all have responsibilities in our approach to life and health. I know many on both sides whom have chosen rightfully for themselves and respect that. I’m glad you found the choice that works for you and respect that you strongly believe in it." Then there was no response. Nothing. It was the end of the conversation. If this happens in that case, I can't even imagine how isolated and unvoiced many of the minorities, who have good reasons for doing what they do, are feeling right now. So we are writing off entire people groups, not listening to them, and not allowing their stories because we believe that we are the only ones who could be in the right? The definition of self righteousness is this; "Exhibiting smug or unwarranted confidence in one's own righteousness." Have we all been guilty of this, during this time? I know I have certainly had to combat it in myself. I have really had to ask myself, "Where am I not listening? Am I being cruel or condemning? Did I make an all or nothing statement? Am I letting anxiety and fear rule me? Am I wrong?" And yes, there is a possibility that I may be wrong in whatever choice I choose. Sometimes I sit in silence and wrestle with all the factors, which tends to bring me into existential crisis and depression, until I voice what I am struggling with, write a blog post (lucky you!) and move onward. I keep Gandalf's words constantly in my mind, "</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: inherit;">Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement...“So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div>Don Lemon clip and then Russell Brands response...then... 11:38; <span style="background-color: white;">"If I am appealing to anything in you, if there is an area where I am happy to express directly what I mean, is do not be so quick to condemn other people when you do not understand what their perspective is. That is a basic spiritual and Christian value. Be open to other peoples' perspective. Do not assume you know exactly what it is like to be them and approach people with an open heart and recognize with a value such as compassion and kindness you can not pick and choose where it is applied. You have to apply it everywhere. All the good books suggest that that is the approach. And the more something irks, angers, and irritates you, the more you have to look inside yourself. I believe our values should be about how we conduct ourselves, NOT what we tell others to do."</span></div><div><br /></div><div>YES! Resounding YES! I have been baffled that because I speak on unity, people have assumed I am pro or anti vax. No. I am simply considering context. Let me tell you, it's not easy when I am shunned, given no responses to correspondence when I have taken a step back, been kind and loving in tone, even when at first I feel attacked, or include social niceties...and my elders, people whom I look up to, people in my extended family, decide to shun me because I am asking to consider with compassion. That is hard for me, but you know what?<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <span class="Apple-converted-space" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I know these are trying times and it is tough to deal with so much right now. And it IS sad and heartbreaking and that can induce anger at all sort of things. Anger is ok to feel sometimes. Directing it or dealing out death and judgement, or who should live and who should die or be blamed - is not for us to do. All we can do is decide what to do with the time WE have…and we are all usually surrounded with only like minded people which makes it more divisive. There is so much more to the picture.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I have to remind myself that all I can do is love them, challenge if it is in a context of love, and lead my life by living it. Just like in faith, we can not force those opposing us into it. Choice was given in the proverbial garden/ ancient origin story, for better or worse, and I think it is an important story. I do not think that means giving permission to do horrid things, but unfortunately sometimes people will choose that…but my hope is that MOST people ARE choosing what is best for them, and being careful in the meantime…and some of the greater picture involves other factors.</span></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I support both the vaccinated and unvaccinated because I believe we all have individual context and MUST do what is in our spirits. I believe I protect the vulnerable and children by staying home when sick, trying to keep up my immunity and washing etc. I do not think it is so cut and dry. If we applied that mentality to everything then the minorities of this world would still be having to live in secret…and we are pushing them to live in secret in vaccination status, at a time when we generally know there is diversity? We know bodies and spirits are different, yet not in this one case of the vaccine? Blaming the unvaccinated for all of this, is not looking at the minute details that make up the whole.</span></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;">12:00: "They! They! They! The more you have 'they' on your lips the more you are on your way to creating serious problems."</span></div><div><br /></div><div>I have had conversations with both people who believe in the vaccines and people whom do not...and if the conversation starts dissolving into "us" and "them" which it tends to do on either side...I say, "Wait a minute...we are all in this together. As soon as we talk about people like that, we start dividing, and making perceived enemies." My friends get some of these blog posts and they know this is true. It is quite hard to see ourselves with those we think are against us. But if we can not do that, then where is the hope for respect, unity and compassion? I am not saying it is easy or that we do not need a moment to gather self control...but I am saying, if we concentrate on the ROOT issues, and only take responsibility for ourselves, there will be less hate in the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>The rest of the video goes on to talk about hypocrisy, and the madness and division of the media, the red lies from CNN and yet we are listening to them? I highly recommend listening to the video above. 14:33 Russell Brand: "Don Lemon has a pretty nice face, he could be a good guy, maybe, I don't know, but I don't agree pretty strongly with what he is saying <span style="background-color: white;">when it comes to shaming, leaving behind, and not considering complex arguments, being dismissive, not acknowledging the roll of media and creating current suspicion and heightened awareness and all that exists around these issues. And I don't mean right wing or left wing media. </span>I mean the entire integration of government, big business and big pharma. How can that not generate mistrust when you see people revolving doors...(Video goes back to Don Lemon and Russells response for awhile.) Then; "You can't just say science only brings about good things like it's a lovely, friendly old grandad Science issuing stuff. There has been all sorts of complications, the opioid crisis...science but that is too reductive...that is science as a religion but science is just a bunch of research and investigation that can have major outcomes and one of the many human endeavours that is beautiful and brilliant but if you corral that beneath a corrupted system than the outcomes can be corrupted. <span style="background-color: white;">You can not use such reductive, simplistic arguments when doing something as dismissing a whole class of people- a significant number of people and saying those people are unworthy of compassion. Once contempt enters into an argument, incredible things become possible, </span>elsewhere on the internet they say we are on the outskirts of civil war or new forms of fascism on the rise, well they may not come from where you think they are going to come from. Particularly when you hear discourse of this kind under the guise of liberalism."</div><div><br /></div><div>17:13 in response to Don Lemon mocking unvaccinated people and horse de wormers: "Making the choice to call Ivermectin a horse dewormer is a propagandist choice, that is a linguistic choice, I've got no opinion on what you should do with your health, but that is an interesting choice and a further decision that makes you believe that perhaps they have an agenda, perhaps they are pushing an agenda and that they are not objectively conveying news. Mainstream media is in serious trouble because it has become entertainment and become propaganda, this is bigger than Don Lemon, whom I am sure as a human being is a lovely guy, but with regard to this particular issue, he is advancing arguments that lead to division that are reductive, that are condemning people, that if you had to look into their eyes you wouldn't be as comfortable condemning. If you had to experience the challenges they are facing with childcare, or go through the reasons they are doubtful about the government <span style="background-color: white;">I don't think it would be so easy to condemn them. This is a call for compassion, open mindedness and a understanding of nuance. Not to be reductive about such complex issues but the mainstream media has to do this, thankfully we don't have to do that. We can be open minded..and we will still make mistakes. But we will make mistakes without any obvious intention or agenda...to try to understand the complexity of our world and the many stories that are vying for control of your consciousness." </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: white;">I have two types of readers (I think...I was only informed of one category recently.) First my Secular/Pagan/ Liberal Identifying or Open minded (mostly) sisters (and brothers? I dunno.)</span> </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: white;">To you dear readers I say;</span></div><div>The rule is to harm none. I know you apply that to vaccines sometimes, but what if it is harming some? The rule is to allow others to decide their own paths. It is not about conversion or about trying to get others on your same path. It is not about stating that vaccines are the only ethical choice, and thereby making those who cannot or will not, feel morally less. What I know you are generally about, because I learned from the beautiful interactions and experiences I have had in your community and friendships in the past, is compassion, awareness, working behind the scenes in positive and hope filled ways and giving the individual autonomy. It is about spiritual mysticism. Mysticism does not have all the answers for other people. That is the beauty of it. You were the controversial healers in the past. You went around patriarchal medicine and gave herbal remedies. Healing women died to help others. Because people like you were different, shunned and thought of as evil, and often victims of misplaced religious zeal, you found ways around majority systems. While you did ground some of your practices in science, you also went against it too for the sake of others. You found remedies that were not always peer reviewed but worked and you used them. Sometimes you made mistakes too and the history certainly isn't perfect, but you know what it is like to be misunderstood, associated with the devil and condemned. Can you not apply that to those who may be different from you? Can you not rise above what our ancestors dealt with? I urge you to stop talking about your positions and start listening for context. I ask you to focus on letting others BE while taking ownership of your own paths. That is the way...</div><div><br /></div><div>To my Christian sisters (and brothers?) ...I knew a few friends whom are Christian read my posts, but I did not know that others did too (which I recently found out at a Sunday Soccer game.) Especially Conservative Christians...I thought I was too controversial at times? This year alone I was unsubscribed for two conflicting reasons. One said, "With your John O Donnohue posts and mysticism you are too liberal." The other said, "You are too conservative Christian in leaning." I guess we see what we wish to see or from our own contexts?... </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: white;">Anyway, to the Christians, dear readers, I say; </span></div><div>Is it your job to be God? Do you actually believe God is bigger than all these issues? Is Jesus the way, the truth and the life? Was he unconventional and unexpected, and do you honestly think he would always side with you or say what YOU wish he would say? Perhaps you would be better served to live his example instead? Consider many of his words in the gospels. Were they easy to swallow? Were they often contextual? Did he often concentrate on the people who were directly in front of himself, in their contexts and in their individuality? The blind man was treated differently from the adulteress and the leper. In healings, there were times when He told one to be quiet, and another to spread the word. Why? Why was he so seemingly different? Could it be because he saw each situation DIFFERENTLY? They were different timelines in ministry? That he honoured diversity? One day we will all die. Is this issue worth tearing your families and friends apart over? Is there so much more? Can you overcome with compassion, to get to the root issues? Do you honestly want to repeat some of the travesties Christians have made in the past? Yes, Christians were often the ones fighting for the oppressed and some of the first to end slavery, speak up for women, and heal the world. But in other groups, Christianity and misplaced, zealous, individuals lent the Christian name to crusades, harmful patriarchy, witch hunts, and other atrocities because they thought it was what they were "called" to do. Recently we have been studying WW2, and I think that shows the differences in living out Christian faith and just laying CLAIM to it. Many of the Nazis called themselves Christians and laid claim to it. Hitler took over the Christian churches and had them giving his agenda but he actually loathed Christianity. In that case, Christianity was used in name and language and not in deed. Some well intentioned people started believing in it too. But the ill intent was there. HOWEVER, there were many Christians who went to their deaths refusing to get behind the agenda, who smuggled the oppressed and then became the oppressed, because they could not see the minorities being treated wrongly. At that point, they did not even know what was actually happening...they just knew that they had to honour the fact that they were answerable to a higher law than their current governance. Some were called to help in secret, some were called to just live their lives, some were called to fighting or subterfuge, some were called to listen and witness... WE all have DIFFERING roles, but as Christians, there is a call to LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR. NO that does not mean loving only those you believe are doing right. It means loving that perceived enemy. It means laying down your own life in submission to a greater cause. It means listening to the commandments and not judging personal health decisions. It is about honouring God and realizing that there are things beyond your comprehension, and that some contexts are called to a different way of BEING. If you believe in God, why are you not letting God be the judge? Why are you worrying about other people's choices in the first place? Why are you not living your life and doing the hard things because we were not called to an easy path? Don't be unkind or accusatory. In faith, if you are laying claim to that, maybe you should start with yourself and God and go from there?</div><div><br /></div><div>And to myself, and people in all categories:</div><div>Can we leave our personal agendas and find context and compassion? Can we unify instead of divide and go after the root issues? The root issue is that there are MANY ways to live a good, ethical life. And there are other ways to protect people with, or without, the vaccine. We are all part of the human race. Leave contempt at the door. There is complexity here. Find compassion and activate it, even, and especially when, it is tough to do. The path of brambles can often be more rewarding. Let us not be reductive and blame or shame. Instead let us try to add encouragement, even if we are challenging something, let us use words in the end, that also convey love and that try to see, TRULY SEE, the other person. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhX4zz7XIBVRmOcG-QWjcRfrKNfmIGPUuKQCEOgczOBAjVPxOIkfmReF-jHzWesS-IOLOSX7M6mMVxByzE1LZlIew9OqulqSWJnZaK_PhxUmvHJsZbnqUNvLWMmUw-Y-kQ9Yg459mwCb2UBI8hHGOsERKyhRkyyTjvXWeiR6i7TKinSaQ0LJTXkQu2emA=s161" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhX4zz7XIBVRmOcG-QWjcRfrKNfmIGPUuKQCEOgczOBAjVPxOIkfmReF-jHzWesS-IOLOSX7M6mMVxByzE1LZlIew9OqulqSWJnZaK_PhxUmvHJsZbnqUNvLWMmUw-Y-kQ9Yg459mwCb2UBI8hHGOsERKyhRkyyTjvXWeiR6i7TKinSaQ0LJTXkQu2emA" width="161" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://worldcouncilforhealth.org/resources/early-covid-19-treatment-guidelines-a-practical-approach-to-home-based-care-for-healthy-families/" target="_blank">https://worldcouncilforhealth.org/resources/early-covid-19-treatment-guidelines-a-practical-approach-to-home-based-care-for-healthy-families/</a><br /><div><br /></div><div>Song choices: Get Together - Youngbloods</div><div><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nBJYxPN8qIA" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://vimeo.com/145733276" target="_blank">We shall be Free- Garth Brooks</a> ( warning the images in this video are triggering and hard at times. I also don’t endorse everyone in it or every saying about education as I think misplaced education has caused major issues. However, the lyrics of the song make me cry every time.) <iframe allow="autoplay; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/145733276?h=f232fdd239" width="640"></iframe>
<p><a href="https://vimeo.com/145733276">We Shall Be Free</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user44886017">Melanie Elgin</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>. ( look up without images if you are triggered.) </p></div><div>In other news, How did I not know this? DARREN CRISS, My favourite Blaine of all time, came out with an EPIC Christmas Album. I am in love, love, love! I may have screeched with my daughter, jumping up and down whilst singing the happiest version of RIVER EVER! If you love Glee, or Blainey boy, or show tunes or Classic Bing Like Christmas, Christmas, Christmas! Check it out! <a href="http://www.darrencriss.com/crissmas" target="_blank">A Very Darren Chrissmas. </a> EEK. (Yea I realize that this is opposing sentiments of my post but we can have many layers to us right? Oh Joy- Oh bliss)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-48179841336269788662021-09-17T21:11:00.028-07:002022-06-26T14:16:07.058-07:00Dear Canada: Canada's True North & Gandalf's Advice to Being Lost in the Woods.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*I updated this post after Trudeau called for a state of emergency (and then revoked it) in February of 2022 and feel it still applies. *</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWSV_U0P8tYvqFt1PASnUzZriH5R8sthsGrLKRnFRU02NbOSFzmtrNFesXEpisefiKFhMoRUtRAHbgibgFbZIHod54VLHwGPAIwmVAXzAwMnO1n22tplBDeoCK_NLObXaNvh5f6zcbZTjV/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWSV_U0P8tYvqFt1PASnUzZriH5R8sthsGrLKRnFRU02NbOSFzmtrNFesXEpisefiKFhMoRUtRAHbgibgFbZIHod54VLHwGPAIwmVAXzAwMnO1n22tplBDeoCK_NLObXaNvh5f6zcbZTjV/" width="217" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); clear: both; text-align: justify; text-size-adjust: auto;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Now I turn around and find that I am lost in the woods. North is south, right is left...Now I'm lost in the woods...up till now, the next step was a question of how? I never thought it was a question of "whether." (Lost in the Woods Lyrics Frozen 2)</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Canada has always been true north for me. I have a mug that says, “The world needs more Canada!” In 2021/ 2022, I did not feel that way about my country as a whole. I felt a little lost. Where was my true north?</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The North has a way of giving and taking so suddenly. I believe this gives the many inhabitants a live or die mentality of savouring goodness and seizing unexpected moments quickly. I have always believed we were a resilient lot, due to our ever-changing seasons. I am a 'Northern girl, wild and free with four strong winds to carry me.’ (Terri Clark, Northern Girl Lyrics)</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is who I am. Although I may complain at times, and it brings its share of pain, it also brings great depth, freedom, raw strength and beauty. Despite its many issues, Canada has always been to me, the True, North, Strong and Free. But as 2020 turned into 2021 and then 2022, it no longer felt like the land of the free or the strong or perhaps even the true? Everyone was claiming truth at the expense of someone else. The news was manipulating populations in the name of protection. Government was corrupt, more so than usual, and many seemed to have lost their inner compass. Instead of helping our neighbours, we were asked to veto them, require proof of one type of living or BEING, and deny anyone not on the "right side of history" (AKA “our side.”) Maybe we were just too tired and run down to care anymore because the grief was encompassing on every level?</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">During this time period, my family and I visited our favourite Heritage site, not knowing it would be our last free outing before restrictions again. I was alone in the old-fashioned apothecary shop with the owner. She cheerily accosted me with, "I adore your outfit, half buns in your hair, and entire look. Did you just have that outfit come together or copy it from somewhere? You kind of look like a brown haired version of that DC antihero Harley Quinn!" I chuckled at her genuine enthusiasm and compliment. As I answered her, my gaze fell on a forgotten crystal, covered in dust and a bit of rust, for sale behind the counter. It was the Northern Star. I collect window crystals and knew, despite the rust in the crevices, that it was going home with me. The owner stated that it seemed to suit me. I smiled at her amongst the old pharmacy bottles, tarot cards, crystals, pill bottles and mirrors. Dust floated into the old wooden slants of the cottage shop. Muffled squeals of the families in the candy shop next door, found their way through knotted crevices, but otherwise it was quiet. Old buildings seem to have a settled sort of hush. I love the sacred, quiet places. Upon seeing pictures on our text feed, my father asked if we were the only ones at the park, but we had been there so many times through the years, we knew how to navigate, so it seemed that we were mostly alone. My husband says magic follows me but I believe I follow it. My True North and definition of magic is ALL THAT IS.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Afterwards, my family teased me because I could not stop talking about the magical encounter. The crystal now hangs in my living room window with memories of community; the beauty of strangers’ compliments, magic, and old-fashioned cures and beliefs mixed with the new parts of now; My True North.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lockdown and a new virus, with varied rules (some unjust and some reasonable rules that protected) were tough on all of us humans. In Canada, what I experienced was extreme division. This land of the chill turned into the land of polarities. As Frodo, in Lord of the Rings, sadly lamented to Gandalf, "I wish it need not have happened in my time." </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I belong to this land. I have cherished its freedom. I am proud that my ancestor from Spain drove cattle from Mexico into the heart of Caribou County. I have often wondered, when I was in the heart of the mountains, if my Indigenous ancestors from the Secwepemc/Shuswap tribe traversed similar paths. I am thankful that my German, Danish, English and Romanian ancestors on the other side of my family tree, found their freedom when they were being persecuted in their home countries. They dug roots so that my down home could run deep. They celebrated that their country allowed for the freedoms of worship, community, health rights, and autonomy. They built up generations for the place I now call home. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> (“Let us do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause.” Isaiah 1:17)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Anne Frank, a young teen during WW2 in Europe, may not have seen the end of her war, due to dying from secondary conditions of her imprisonment, but people like her, who told their stories, tried to be grateful, and tried to BE. Their stories became, in a way, everyone's story. By BEING in hard times, even to the end of themselves, and telling their story, they contributed to the world's story. It's brave to BE when a narrative is telling you it is not legitimate. When the larger story says that you are not safe, or that it would be "better for everyone" if you followed this rule and that rule even if you are not sick at all, or worse, flat out wanting you to cease being in every place possible. It is brave to still know you ARE loved and worthy to exist. Growing up we were taught Anne Franks' story as children to show us that even a child, who is curious, wishing to BE, and keeping an innocent journal, had a place in the hero's story. She had no idea the impact she would make just from trying to live. Those that pass onward while doing their best to LIVE always matter. In each big moment in history they were there. But perhaps more importantly, we are here because of each little moment in history. We are here, because each person in our family line chose to make a life, however that would look like, Begetting and Begotten. We are here because they were. We are now in our turn of BEING, because they fought for true north.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Maybe we are past trusting each other with handshakes, but luckily, I see that the inner concept mostly still stands where I live. Perhaps smaller rural areas take longer to lose true north? I hope so. Some people call it ignorant. "You think I'm an ignorant savage? Well, you've been so many places, I guess it must be so. But still I cannot see, if the savage one is me? How can there be so much that you don't know?" (Disney Pocahontas Lyrics)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps that is why a lot of those who still have to make a living off the land, tend to know the truths of resiliency, natural cycles of death and rebirth, and responsibility at a deeper level than many who do not? Weather, death, and destruction...the natural landscape takes and takes along with a tiny bright blot of giving. </span></p></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The best life, the one most likely to succeed, is one that owns its responsibility but also relies on its community. Cultures that revere nature, Ranchers, blue-collar workers, and foresters etc. seem to inwardly know this. The north with its harsh climate brings untamed beauty. I love my Canadian prairies and their great partner of sky. It can be treacherous in any climate. In mine, I recognize the wild spirits in the strong steel of survivors of the land. These survivors valued the wild and the free. They braved. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Each time history has lost its true north; people eventually have come back to this truth of living; one’s best life is lived where they are FOUND. The skies hold hope, steady inspiration within ever-changing circumstances, and wild freedom. All we have to do is look UP.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">True north is a guide. It’s a state of being from the ultimate BEING. It's that moment, when all hope is seemingly lost, and the darkness suffocates because the moon is dark and the stars are clouded...and one star brightly becomes a beacon in the stark darkness. "You are not alone," It whispers to the great partner of sky. "There is more, there is always light- it just may hide for awhile. Eventually freedom does surface once again." Unfortunately, often it takes a lot of people losing many things, perhaps even lives, for freedom to be valued once again, for the crystal to become clear in the sun. Fear is never the answer. Truth is warm, real and bright. The world shifts in love. We need to sing with all the colours of the winds and allow them to sweep away the clouds blocking true north again. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I loved Disney's Pocahontas as a child, and still do, despite it being called to cancellation by some. To me it represented aspects of my heritage, when many of those stories were lacking as main heroines at the time. I sang Colours of the Wind to my children every night that I tucked them in. The lyrics can eerily apply to our times, "How can there be so much that you don't know? You don't know…" We don't know each path for each person. An example of this would be in the current narrative of health. How do we think we can force the answers or health choices of others when multiple factors such as a history of vaccine anaphylaxis, secondary ingredients etc. can be involved? We don’t own other’s contexts. The majority experience does not always fit the minority. All we can endeavour to do is own our story.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"You think the only people whom are people, are the people who think and look like you." (Pocahontas lyrics) Does this sound familiar in our own narratives? In 2021, did some of us mistakenly believe that the only people whom were people, were the ones who were on our sides of the lockdowns and vaccination stories? Masks? Laws? Politics? In the end, while of course, our stances matter, all things dissolve. What matters more is how we LOVED.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear involves punishment... If anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen.” (1 John 4:19)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you'll learn things you never knew, you never knew." (Colours of the Wind Lyrics) There are so many layers to our stories. There is grief we each carry. There is hope too. "Can you brave what you most fear? Can you brave what the river knows? Where the north wind meets the sea?" (All is Found Frozen 2 Lyrics)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When the world overwhelms me, I walk outside. The other evening we stopped on the highway on the way home to look at the stars. We felt small yet oddly so special. The sky was speckled with diamonds. I felt dizzy trying to soak it all in. Suddenly, a coyote began howling and had us running for the van, as a large group of howls surrounded us. I tripped over my youngest son when we dove for the doors, because it sounded like a pack was right beside us. Later, in the distance, from the safety of our van window, we heard dogs begin barking and horses neighing, and more howls from miles away. It is in those moments, I realize how close we all are to the precarious nature of BEING.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest, come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth, come roll in all the riches all around you and for once never wonder what they're worth…” (Colours of the Wind Lyrics) When we step into the nature of the land, and see the immense cyclical nature of life and death, the precarious danger mixed with absolute delights, we realize, as people, how much more are we capable of doling out? </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tolkien’s Gandalf wisely stated, "Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. Even the very wise can not see all ends.” Because as Pocahontas sings; "We are all connected to each other, in a circle, in a hoop that never ends."<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(“What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask.” James 4:1-2)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If we are connected to each other, why are we eager to override freewill and autonomy? Why do we wish to enforce our wills on another? Is there another way? </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"How high does the sycamore grow? If you cut it down, then you'll never know...we need to sing with all the voices of the mountain, we need to paint with all the colours of the wind..." (Colours of the Wind Lyrics)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Canada is the home of four strong winds. It has often symbolized freedom, kindness, tenacity, and generous amounts of space. But for awhile, much of it was forgetting. Much of it was lost. Our north star was glimmering in and out. But, "Sometimes you have to get a bit lost to know that you are found..." (All is Found Lyrics)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"There is a mother full of memory, come my darling homeward bound, where all is lost and all is found.” (All is Found Lyrics) This mother has memory from the mother before her, and the mother before her, and the mother before her, and the mother before her, and on it goes to the great Mother. We are all homeward bound, to death and beyond, whether we wish to be or not. All is lost and all is found in the ever-turning clock of eternity, where time is all experienced as one. But us singular beings currently alive on this earth, we are guided by angels and stars and our predecessors. We must choose which parts we lose and which parts we find. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We must find our own paths to True North. I may feel a deep seated grief and "every inch of me is trembling, but not from the cold. Something is familiar, like a dream that I can reach but not quite hold…I can sense you there, like a friend I have always known. I am arriving and it feels like I am home...you have secrets too, but you don't have to hide. Show yourself...it's your turn." (Show Yourself lyrics.) In our lives, we will have moments when it's our move, our turn and the eyes of the world will be watching.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Canada has had its past and its own darker secrets. Because it is younger, we have less to bemoan, yet still we all have those places to grieve, but overall? Home is a word where feelings run deep. "You must brave what you most fear. Can you brave what the river knows?...Until the river is finally crossed- you'll never feel the solid ground... You have to get a little lost on your way to being found...She will sing to those that hear, and in her song all magic flows..." (All is Found Lyrics)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"I've never felt so certain, all my life I've been torn, but I'm here for a reason, could this be the reason I was born? I have always been so different, normal rules did not apply. Is this the day? Are you the way? I finally find out why?...Here I am...I've come so far... Show yourself! Let me see who you are!" (Show Yourself lyrics) </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Let me see whom you are, I say to myself first, then to my fellow friends and community members, my province, and Canada and the world at large. Be true, Be kind, Be free, Be wild.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(“And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” Matthew 25:40)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So it had come to this moment in my history. I felt seemingly lost, my family and friends felt lost with me, and my country also seemed generally lost in the darkness of the woods. But the good thing about being lost is that there is a possibility of being FOUND.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Although, indeed, I wish it never had happened in my time...And Gandalf sorrowfully but confidently replies, "So do all whom live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide, all that we have to decide is what to do with the time that has been given to us." </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(“And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbours, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’" Luke 15:6)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">All is found. What shall we do with OUR time? How will we feel and give love and worth?</span></p></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"></div><p></p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" height="103" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" width="161" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*This video was taken after we were in the van and the nearer howls died down but you can still hear them in the distance. My phone does not capture anything at night so the picture is pure dark.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzT5L9f0AnrUY8g2fl9fVQjOWZ7mbUbInsagtkm-szmHx1IU4HNz7tGLxcZGiXtL9PmS9D3TxbZ6EllUOneyg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div>For those concerned with freedom specifically from the vx perspective but also concerned about health- Here is also a link from a man who believes strongly in vaccinations and the science behind them and the covid vax- but why the current trajectory is not right ( this one is speaking to US mandates ) but has good points overall about forcing, bad approach, natural immunity for those who have had covid, needle fear etc.) <a href="https://zdoggmd.com/vaccine-mandate/" target="_blank">https://zdoggmd.com/vaccine-mandate/</a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The Apothecary:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_cripZfLQTVZnKe3DVMBzOJwZFB8sKKbk_nB47rdplpnONwERHSAyzUtPzOll9bvnxH3fiGI7iybnZhAKw_ot0-uqVmdSAJezQt5vzpfHH1S3RqnVoHeNsSbsYZIOc8dvWiPJYAIpmw1/s1280/fullsizeoutput_e04b.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_cripZfLQTVZnKe3DVMBzOJwZFB8sKKbk_nB47rdplpnONwERHSAyzUtPzOll9bvnxH3fiGI7iybnZhAKw_ot0-uqVmdSAJezQt5vzpfHH1S3RqnVoHeNsSbsYZIOc8dvWiPJYAIpmw1/s320/fullsizeoutput_e04b.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYukFst82MCeGeO0TvpaiCVGRd0U8bAmV0M5dLBkW_sKGahdIzSTXBUxpOtufxsNiVMfHWwhJZgMv8XXc6gnijYQk7d13f916zAfwizRkkeFVHYI3jdE4aXyOLCjK-kKDD5v1K2qXruTw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_e04c.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYukFst82MCeGeO0TvpaiCVGRd0U8bAmV0M5dLBkW_sKGahdIzSTXBUxpOtufxsNiVMfHWwhJZgMv8XXc6gnijYQk7d13f916zAfwizRkkeFVHYI3jdE4aXyOLCjK-kKDD5v1K2qXruTw/s320/fullsizeoutput_e04c.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="text-align: center;">The North Star:</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojWAVe3IVHNU1sHHFG_8058-OuwdAVORmwrCRrsQdy-SP2xIFrTnGT6VJC62zQnqfahrXLWx3ZfwX_xjspUf4YU0eYCONja_Ya8Ikf5fZaSo2wwcEMdimtVrxfVIhVD_wXBsIs6YSXBU3/s2048/fullsizeoutput_e097.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojWAVe3IVHNU1sHHFG_8058-OuwdAVORmwrCRrsQdy-SP2xIFrTnGT6VJC62zQnqfahrXLWx3ZfwX_xjspUf4YU0eYCONja_Ya8Ikf5fZaSo2wwcEMdimtVrxfVIhVD_wXBsIs6YSXBU3/s320/fullsizeoutput_e097.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoBI3RlR6EOEqKrN2_F30gbOBaugWoBLUO2VA1sfsJf4NVhNcp7EtLYCTxC7L67FQaPOEej059FICxyQFPEpBHzJncn-1xFWJ5U3YlSU69V3Z4aYSxTUzX59ywT2PlhiEwyJCA5ZYk1aq3/s2048/fullsizeoutput_e098.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoBI3RlR6EOEqKrN2_F30gbOBaugWoBLUO2VA1sfsJf4NVhNcp7EtLYCTxC7L67FQaPOEej059FICxyQFPEpBHzJncn-1xFWJ5U3YlSU69V3Z4aYSxTUzX59ywT2PlhiEwyJCA5ZYk1aq3/s320/fullsizeoutput_e098.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Song Choices: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8jNbZIsBQU" target="_blank">Lost in the Woods- Jonathan Groff Frozen 2</a><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_8jNbZIsBQU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9MvdMqKvpU" target="_blank">Colours of the Wind- Judy Kuhn Pocahontas</a><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/O9MvdMqKvpU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></p><p></p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3Y8v_dvWFs" target="_blank">All Is Found- Kacey Musgraves</a></p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/j3Y8v_dvWFs" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrZxwPwmgrw" target="_blank">Show Yourself- Idina Menzel and Evan Rachel Wood Frozen 2</a></p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nrZxwPwmgrw" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-42077505586346546702021-07-24T13:39:00.040-07:002022-04-13T09:22:58.509-07:00Meet Professor Vader Bhaer (Our Cat), Living Romance, And Country Songs Summer Magickal Life Playlist<div class="separator"></div><div class="separator"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">*Country song links to the lyrics are after the asterix. Click to go to a video link or find the beautiful (and sometimes ridiculous) songs on Spotify. If they are in this post, they are definitely on repeat in our home!*</span></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhri0HF9kmwt9mP9hs-azHJgsyslQnCwjePSa0WuJhExrQWXXddjEEYpkr-ThqzbhVdAJSucGJ7FvPTxmmnreljnsllxdJ0_6hU4v-6a0fR3Fof0fJa7USG0tPdQ73BJt3JfERAIpf6VKgtXEMtetP55y0-pxLBWhcO9PHjNYVA1fOB1bjzWV1608iUJw=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="2048" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhri0HF9kmwt9mP9hs-azHJgsyslQnCwjePSa0WuJhExrQWXXddjEEYpkr-ThqzbhVdAJSucGJ7FvPTxmmnreljnsllxdJ0_6hU4v-6a0fR3Fof0fJa7USG0tPdQ73BJt3JfERAIpf6VKgtXEMtetP55y0-pxLBWhcO9PHjNYVA1fOB1bjzWV1608iUJw=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispHIICSZvN_80meyt3Ru2upMiTWppJqzwbavw9NLVYsGQCnewytapBsLnp4CXCH2Cd_ia4DoaGgfftBy_1knLdFQZN9zcIle6UJvm57SSXYpfu8LOf8CEdg8COU945oiso-gd456M_U9K/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispHIICSZvN_80meyt3Ru2upMiTWppJqzwbavw9NLVYsGQCnewytapBsLnp4CXCH2Cd_ia4DoaGgfftBy_1knLdFQZN9zcIle6UJvm57SSXYpfu8LOf8CEdg8COU945oiso-gd456M_U9K/w480-h640/image.png" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On a date drive at the end of May, I randomly said to my hubby, "I feel like we are missing something from our lives...like maybe a cat. Which I know is weird. But in order to have a cat we would need an older one from a home we trust, whom is already neutered, de wormed, and pretty placid in temperament...and the cat would of course have to be long haired grey or black as we both know that is the type I love most easily...so basically impossible." I laughed, and my husband, whom is used to my manifestation mumblings just smiled and replied,"While not entirely impossible it is highly unlikely."<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jp-FVxu3Tge6BlZ8rLi9CsfgFzv3rUA6xreLQHAWZlbvAjhD2SjhChh6jjyR8n-POcmWJtqBsf-wHYnVfw75HHH2-PnGr66FnXHLKvaLLBhlL0K4aXdXqfzEayVP9Oh2ZcU68hiYtU4n/s2048/C7F763C1-6B0F-4C79-802E-CC8399C3A727.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jp-FVxu3Tge6BlZ8rLi9CsfgFzv3rUA6xreLQHAWZlbvAjhD2SjhChh6jjyR8n-POcmWJtqBsf-wHYnVfw75HHH2-PnGr66FnXHLKvaLLBhlL0K4aXdXqfzEayVP9Oh2ZcU68hiYtU4n/s320/C7F763C1-6B0F-4C79-802E-CC8399C3A727.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlXmyEcWQgFwTym6tTs2aXuwjeSMBK6c47RHi5uwiDDhcC36O3-q7KtDwLiwCXNEp1RIfOE4jf3pV3WMp6n6_6RqvuSPkLeLaR6wUzG99vHjLDwxOjgDDRdUBaNPllCUywJVG2o1TbXmQ/w400-h300/image.png" width="400" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">On June ll th, I had excess clothes which were meant for my sister in law but she didn't want them, so last minute we drove to my aunt's home in town and asked if she wanted the box to look through. The first sentence she said to us was, "Sure and do you want a cat?"( Due to unforeseen circumstances in living the cat needed to be re homed even though it was deeply loved and cared for.) My hubby and I looked at each other and started laughing, "Um can we see it first? What gender is it and what's it name?" She replied, "Vader and it's a five year old boy." My heart began to pound because #1 we love Star Wars and that boded well. #2 Vader most likely meant it was a black kitty. We saw him and I knew deep down that he was probably meant for us, but still unsure I asked if we could have a trial period and if he was de wormed. My beloved aunt not only offered to take him to the vet first to get de wormed but agreed to a two week trial with no strings and brought over all of his stuff. </span></div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMWhODzEgBsg1Sl8bOl5Voo2BzppPmBCx8hlOwFR2DIWgR2QpXGd6ynGttj226vN7c5LJKVPWSWOG7kPqSeC-mwc5Tf9FlMatrQCPFO1eVr6jCrluDo3CUSsbw9Sw6ZDp85LKx2SlpyBl/s2048/fullsizeoutput_daa0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMWhODzEgBsg1Sl8bOl5Voo2BzppPmBCx8hlOwFR2DIWgR2QpXGd6ynGttj226vN7c5LJKVPWSWOG7kPqSeC-mwc5Tf9FlMatrQCPFO1eVr6jCrluDo3CUSsbw9Sw6ZDp85LKx2SlpyBl/w480-h640/fullsizeoutput_daa0.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fast forward to Father's day, which was a few days past when we were originally going to receive him, and we though it was perfect, due to the fact that Vader was George Lucas' spin on the German word for father which is Vater...Another sign that things were going to work out. I have never had a pet (other than a few tries with new puppies and kittens that did not work out...) and I have not been much of a pet person. I knew my heart was gone when we went into the pet store and instead of being completely disgusted, I was only put off by the smell and bought way too many cat toys and treats. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sh5OpNW8JYVyNbRnP5I1acHbUYQm601-DWZ2fIGBEQEgzmVP1WvxdHU10hnirfeAnOYLxAfbe9PHXlCdvA36K1szLIuqBrjHH15_kgz4u4NNvoWzEa7hXvFmemt5BXjeFcw2hbaFs2NL/" width="320" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwpA-RAfM44plJUHdRSUj3d0GSH_0TozCt6e06aczqK4OEHV95qGdHSnIBezLS5al4vySiWP1QRcmWbzBPAjylVKpmPDK7KYoNx1vhLZZDq1WL0oOzdIVQIXUKIWd2tRNtSWEP75z6MlR9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwpA-RAfM44plJUHdRSUj3d0GSH_0TozCt6e06aczqK4OEHV95qGdHSnIBezLS5al4vySiWP1QRcmWbzBPAjylVKpmPDK7KYoNx1vhLZZDq1WL0oOzdIVQIXUKIWd2tRNtSWEP75z6MlR9/w400-h300/image.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwpA-RAfM44plJUHdRSUj3d0GSH_0TozCt6e06aczqK4OEHV95qGdHSnIBezLS5al4vySiWP1QRcmWbzBPAjylVKpmPDK7KYoNx1vhLZZDq1WL0oOzdIVQIXUKIWd2tRNtSWEP75z6MlR9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwpA-RAfM44plJUHdRSUj3d0GSH_0TozCt6e06aczqK4OEHV95qGdHSnIBezLS5al4vySiWP1QRcmWbzBPAjylVKpmPDK7KYoNx1vhLZZDq1WL0oOzdIVQIXUKIWd2tRNtSWEP75z6MlR9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sh5OpNW8JYVyNbRnP5I1acHbUYQm601-DWZ2fIGBEQEgzmVP1WvxdHU10hnirfeAnOYLxAfbe9PHXlCdvA36K1szLIuqBrjHH15_kgz4u4NNvoWzEa7hXvFmemt5BXjeFcw2hbaFs2NL/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sh5OpNW8JYVyNbRnP5I1acHbUYQm601-DWZ2fIGBEQEgzmVP1WvxdHU10hnirfeAnOYLxAfbe9PHXlCdvA36K1szLIuqBrjHH15_kgz4u4NNvoWzEa7hXvFmemt5BXjeFcw2hbaFs2NL/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We ended up adding to his name after we got to know his character. He is a courteous cat who rarely meows (unless he is exploring a room.) He rubs against our legs when he wants the litter changed four times a day and of course we do it for him immediately. He knows my eldest son will do it the most, so the cat will often be found leading the way to his food or water. He knows my youngest son is the best at playing with his birdie stick...he only stares at me if I try to play with him but as soon as it is in my son's hands he jumps and begins to play...and he goes to my daughter for morning snuggles or to sit in her window. He seems to be an Introvert but is friendly to strangers, although he is jittery with new sounds. He is so easy and mellow which suits me entirely. He switched over to a pellet litter easily without a fuss. He gives me my space which I also appreciate. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1tSqF0z1CfYtumXr3sOdR8Bdmkd50s9VA5hikotwjZuYZElNatlZ3S1ftf3R1C57-bkjiQpNakqtYJ9xazPGCgPVvvh63MQN577aA7IyPZdS4EcSGpYAmKWR1yME4wxWfhG_RMYYIqZO/s2048/77FDAB43-4CF1-4E7D-B4D1-0278CAF2AD53.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG1tSqF0z1CfYtumXr3sOdR8Bdmkd50s9VA5hikotwjZuYZElNatlZ3S1ftf3R1C57-bkjiQpNakqtYJ9xazPGCgPVvvh63MQN577aA7IyPZdS4EcSGpYAmKWR1yME4wxWfhG_RMYYIqZO/s320/77FDAB43-4CF1-4E7D-B4D1-0278CAF2AD53.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BODA-2mEfyVOO1GWMkLs2KK-MRfgaLhyYONkYUbwXKfUttK8NJsRE4jH5lk69goUG1wTGAANeIe7m2OxAlgQThs9tMATVjC5FwgMnji7uLcdp7eFaz_pIvSZDqfd8VMY_VpKg_5zjCiH/s2048/218DF266-B14B-4767-9458-E1E0D008EFB2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7BODA-2mEfyVOO1GWMkLs2KK-MRfgaLhyYONkYUbwXKfUttK8NJsRE4jH5lk69goUG1wTGAANeIe7m2OxAlgQThs9tMATVjC5FwgMnji7uLcdp7eFaz_pIvSZDqfd8VMY_VpKg_5zjCiH/s320/218DF266-B14B-4767-9458-E1E0D008EFB2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And his biggest love is my husband....and I don't blame the cat for that. My husband is an early riser, thus the cat waits for him to wake, walks through the morning routine with him, then climbs onto his lap in the library while my husband spends an hour reading Philosophy books before work. He likes to come to me to get brushed twice a day. He will sit at my feet and turn his belly up waiting for me to begin the brushing. He looks like a little fluffy bear in our window. Thus, I came up with the name Professor Bhaer based on the sweet love interest of Jo's in Little Women (whom also reminds me a bit of my hubby at times.) It ties in the German factor but also suits Vader because the kids still call him VaderBhaer. I often shorten it to Professor.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0gKm2dg1yu7i8e2d8het1I4uoblfoWXiyy94ll_c15KdGDCaVvD0ddie_ag4ipzjLYf3G6c23BTDIVoR6Oax8KFUxFL1CNGakCZsSge8hP3_PWu49aV_7umW0RvCCwEFHIi95qcdBar3/s2048/BE36CE02-DC75-4811-8A44-AB90F3E6B060.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0gKm2dg1yu7i8e2d8het1I4uoblfoWXiyy94ll_c15KdGDCaVvD0ddie_ag4ipzjLYf3G6c23BTDIVoR6Oax8KFUxFL1CNGakCZsSge8hP3_PWu49aV_7umW0RvCCwEFHIi95qcdBar3/s320/BE36CE02-DC75-4811-8A44-AB90F3E6B060.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sh5OpNW8JYVyNbRnP5I1acHbUYQm601-DWZ2fIGBEQEgzmVP1WvxdHU10hnirfeAnOYLxAfbe9PHXlCdvA36K1szLIuqBrjHH15_kgz4u4NNvoWzEa7hXvFmemt5BXjeFcw2hbaFs2NL/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sh5OpNW8JYVyNbRnP5I1acHbUYQm601-DWZ2fIGBEQEgzmVP1WvxdHU10hnirfeAnOYLxAfbe9PHXlCdvA36K1szLIuqBrjHH15_kgz4u4NNvoWzEa7hXvFmemt5BXjeFcw2hbaFs2NL/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08AegWLOEmZfVYRj0FPwovONDQbGDw9rcJZ8US7Maw12GN97cAjWNrDHtYPoG4nQFSG1I3UUlf-k6MTqnOKMCXnsI-WGHdVstE_vu_fOkBMKiPeLgPAsa2wXoLE_syqTIZVn2FEiVNH54/s2048/fullsizeoutput_da9d.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1563" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08AegWLOEmZfVYRj0FPwovONDQbGDw9rcJZ8US7Maw12GN97cAjWNrDHtYPoG4nQFSG1I3UUlf-k6MTqnOKMCXnsI-WGHdVstE_vu_fOkBMKiPeLgPAsa2wXoLE_syqTIZVn2FEiVNH54/s320/fullsizeoutput_da9d.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div></div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBY54WTV6Wk-fS8s1aEOAdagwmAYQju0BHU1Z3X3wWZPfXjmyRptGXzYM7VsYRMJ-X1aIIJ1io-LwE3UUBcoQxzg3z1Py6Ms7j-uRgB5qrYflf3zUFQy6JjUVDiv85AR6n8oMkEBY4NeL/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d837.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBY54WTV6Wk-fS8s1aEOAdagwmAYQju0BHU1Z3X3wWZPfXjmyRptGXzYM7VsYRMJ-X1aIIJ1io-LwE3UUBcoQxzg3z1Py6Ms7j-uRgB5qrYflf3zUFQy6JjUVDiv85AR6n8oMkEBY4NeL/s320/fullsizeoutput_d837.jpeg" /></a><br />He claimed my daughter's old American Girl doll spot, tucked on top of our Library rock wall, so we let him keep the bed from his throne overlooking the Library. He is adorable when he sleeps. He is gorgeous and I think he knows it. Anyone who sees him remarks on his beauty.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6YDeI4jn1193na2iVrG8KEGHsnHNswU7PsnMT9UCbHDZixfIRHkmqKRzyGmquCep0mD_FPo_4RLbvP0qi_VUuxthPcb0GBRQQjNgj0NW47qcyt4ba2gyS16dpc-mHH3lsU3i0UOgrMs9/s2048/AB04C308-EE10-4761-96B8-0BEA2FE2AE6C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6YDeI4jn1193na2iVrG8KEGHsnHNswU7PsnMT9UCbHDZixfIRHkmqKRzyGmquCep0mD_FPo_4RLbvP0qi_VUuxthPcb0GBRQQjNgj0NW47qcyt4ba2gyS16dpc-mHH3lsU3i0UOgrMs9/s320/AB04C308-EE10-4761-96B8-0BEA2FE2AE6C.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div><span style="text-align: center;">There were four stipulations I had when we took the cat which I stated to my family and the only reason I decided I could handle a cat in our home. If any of them are met, we will have to re home him, but so far they have not happened and my family tries their best to make sure those elements are controlled as best as possible. But at least we have him for however long we do and are giving him a beautiful home.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-eV39SazIQOyICePSLX9CIyBo3igkNWkhue21a0uOptLkN6XOOeN2hAS6GBriB3zJFzdI_heZN9MauuQqoTrji-tM2R78XYYftegf4s8pB6nDoIvel7zZJid8zk9oOECFB8sfkOUPWJkL/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7a7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1922" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-eV39SazIQOyICePSLX9CIyBo3igkNWkhue21a0uOptLkN6XOOeN2hAS6GBriB3zJFzdI_heZN9MauuQqoTrji-tM2R78XYYftegf4s8pB6nDoIvel7zZJid8zk9oOECFB8sfkOUPWJkL/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7a7.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My husband says he knew I was smitten when Professor became the King of the house..."Well, he seems to have won you over and usurped your Queenhood my love. I don't know which one of you is ruling whom more but I have realized watching him that you have definitely always had a cat personality." When I complained that Professor Bhaer seems to want snuggles when I am busy and ignores me when I can actually give him time, my husband replied, "Hmmmm it's like living with someone else I know. Maybe he is an INFJ cat who wants what he can not have and then gets restless with what he has...you know like when the kids are gone you immediately miss them and want them home but then when they are home you want some space...or when I go to work in the morning and you want snuggles but then I am home later and you are busy with your own agenda...methinks we got a version of you as a cat."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBY54WTV6Wk-fS8s1aEOAdagwmAYQju0BHU1Z3X3wWZPfXjmyRptGXzYM7VsYRMJ-X1aIIJ1io-LwE3UUBcoQxzg3z1Py6Ms7j-uRgB5qrYflf3zUFQy6JjUVDiv85AR6n8oMkEBY4NeL/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d837.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBY54WTV6Wk-fS8s1aEOAdagwmAYQju0BHU1Z3X3wWZPfXjmyRptGXzYM7VsYRMJ-X1aIIJ1io-LwE3UUBcoQxzg3z1Py6Ms7j-uRgB5qrYflf3zUFQy6JjUVDiv85AR6n8oMkEBY4NeL/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d837.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0iDtlgej2WcrZs5yHHH_0mW2ax5lHAD0CMOsB02pX_JlBaDSG5rBkOjN3LsC3MgQfxUVHLl31TTC5QxukYxIZ7uahhvH-PSn1gACIk2OeH8urHPiJIPWURU6RoXNylTxNNCgOehbnAOp/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz0iDtlgej2WcrZs5yHHH_0mW2ax5lHAD0CMOsB02pX_JlBaDSG5rBkOjN3LsC3MgQfxUVHLl31TTC5QxukYxIZ7uahhvH-PSn1gACIk2OeH8urHPiJIPWURU6RoXNylTxNNCgOehbnAOp/w300-h400/image.png" width="300" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Which, seeing my husband interact with him, makes me feel better about my life in general. On most days I know I am adored by my spouse, but seeing him get a kick out of the personality traits I also display, makes me feel amused. I also love that Professor seems to favour him...he's got good taste...Aaaannnddd I have spent way too much of my time talking about our cat which is a completely new thing for me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qfeXJkcDL2QEVrP6xskEspiKq6NkKTX8Rs30pDPjl87l11Vzq9C-HV0zCsMJtJDWc2-aaqE2GwagITbR9XRWsG4dbx1qBVANBa4LvDmf7i905WNk95_vSGnCRLhC0BS5lTlSS9NsfgT7/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d8e4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4qfeXJkcDL2QEVrP6xskEspiKq6NkKTX8Rs30pDPjl87l11Vzq9C-HV0zCsMJtJDWc2-aaqE2GwagITbR9XRWsG4dbx1qBVANBa4LvDmf7i905WNk95_vSGnCRLhC0BS5lTlSS9NsfgT7/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8e4.jpeg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHl8BuSbk8CBN7fDz638vi6AMh83OAIEC1Wms83DaeUTJH-WdwDagLCXQNIQw6O8C6KuiwUZDqeJvFaqAbrvtVh4GiSryBf4mmT9Smz7jsJxgsdUcqikdodT6ZARxaeB2k79UXK-oAQZw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_db91.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1992" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHl8BuSbk8CBN7fDz638vi6AMh83OAIEC1Wms83DaeUTJH-WdwDagLCXQNIQw6O8C6KuiwUZDqeJvFaqAbrvtVh4GiSryBf4mmT9Smz7jsJxgsdUcqikdodT6ZARxaeB2k79UXK-oAQZw/s320/fullsizeoutput_db91.jpeg" /></a><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMkJrSICqljjzIIMFjM2g-A0N5PBX1PWrwpi8ezbLYfZ4F6LtKfH-cIBXhG36LXklZdqotkY7i0M2JY8VBpvybh0afEqqdLdvMoeDV8Rygv2Ci6a8-Db7tA_7jcL4e41yXljLCZsj91mT/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMkJrSICqljjzIIMFjM2g-A0N5PBX1PWrwpi8ezbLYfZ4F6LtKfH-cIBXhG36LXklZdqotkY7i0M2JY8VBpvybh0afEqqdLdvMoeDV8Rygv2Ci6a8-Db7tA_7jcL4e41yXljLCZsj91mT/w300-h400/image.png" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">**********</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Every summer I go back to my country roots in music and simplicity which brings me back to my magic. I am a complex creature whom can feel the magic of BEING mixed with down home roots. I usually begin to upload my playlists in the Spring, with 90's throwback country and sometimes a bit of new stuff mixed in. This year I was happy to find numerous new catchy songs I found to add to our life's playlist. My lucky family gets to hear the tunes blare on our hour long drives, during chores, and on our front porch. My son recently remarked, "You know country isn't my favourite of all your music, but in the summers when you put it on, I feel calmer...like sensory simplicity and the love of family is mixed into the lyrics and I feel like I am living a story that matters." Amen. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6eAG8YsTnHltl3D0XSrfiO6Z0LdBaP0auGMB_sw8LLObn00zbAXNOTY9PFkF5lP4lSE2B2lnDLE8PGN0_wPJc8YFwifrildRu3l2J32j_LJgky1blsnNn8nWDlldMrHTdSweha-QWzMaZ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4d8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1427" data-original-width="2048" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6eAG8YsTnHltl3D0XSrfiO6Z0LdBaP0auGMB_sw8LLObn00zbAXNOTY9PFkF5lP4lSE2B2lnDLE8PGN0_wPJc8YFwifrildRu3l2J32j_LJgky1blsnNn8nWDlldMrHTdSweha-QWzMaZ/w640-h446/fullsizeoutput_d4d8.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It's been way too long since you slipped away, I just can't forget, I can't pretend it's ok. No other one could ever replace you, so i'll keep on believing and dreaming of you. Soft steel guitar, oh how I've missed you, words from the heart, let me hear you again. Sounds from the soul, fiddle I need you. Sweet country music where you have you gone? </span>” Where<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBntc3FzHcY" target="_blank"> Have You Gone- Alan Jackson</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyu8k5hTjHbhSgan4Z89xAi6cwNwCwylaawe6HSnq7mcyOsSOOWAX5Wuvj8V0jmhJzm2N01xsSv2kNlEoHbecgjOh_gOmxdyqEFyEdViLsNq6iydzW6Itba-98P1gmgmWEaAOc8RPMUV8l/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4cf.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyu8k5hTjHbhSgan4Z89xAi6cwNwCwylaawe6HSnq7mcyOsSOOWAX5Wuvj8V0jmhJzm2N01xsSv2kNlEoHbecgjOh_gOmxdyqEFyEdViLsNq6iydzW6Itba-98P1gmgmWEaAOc8RPMUV8l/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d4cf.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I realize each summer, how much I missed my country tunes and country views. I love my small town anthems and backroad celebrations of love, family and the simple life. No other genre can make me cry so hard or feel nostalgia or the NOW. From the heartfelt to the quippy and zippy... What's your country song?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3xYJVAAH2_05xzTHb22D3Ms_FwJ36NgV5RgOGDihxtuBuhWX-2gEhZ4syIoTo6n03kuXeCVsWjXEL85CtJ91LjoRS6cNslHk1NxAp-tMovvCCYL-QJfRkVxbRPHa2ZOCiTg9b7mIEWw7/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4ca.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3xYJVAAH2_05xzTHb22D3Ms_FwJ36NgV5RgOGDihxtuBuhWX-2gEhZ4syIoTo6n03kuXeCVsWjXEL85CtJ91LjoRS6cNslHk1NxAp-tMovvCCYL-QJfRkVxbRPHa2ZOCiTg9b7mIEWw7/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d4ca.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Did you grow up on a tractor, did your daddy let you drive...Did you cruise down a back road with your Dixie land delight? Are you on the Chattahoochee on a barefoot blue jean night?... E<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">verybody's got a small town anthem, everybody gotta a story to tell, everybody gotta a hallelujah , everybody been through a little hell. When your rollin' down a two lane highway, and you turn your radio on, tell me baby what's your country song?..</span>. Are your friends all in low places underneath the neon moon? <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Were you already country back when country wasn't cool?...What makes you turn it up and raise your cup every-time you listen?"</span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBzduwzZH-w" target="_blank">*What's your Country song- Thomas Rhett</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOuu33YTdwbvPdN-ZBpI-7B2S3wzCbToROgJsYHIQEfope7eXnkYFLvvoaD-V6kayNEgQRqfpVVx8VlH5t5IB0pv-MKjxKFn44vEwYiIFO9_2QYt9aovC3fOSsgLyBAWiJB7vZOoynHN6S/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d856.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOuu33YTdwbvPdN-ZBpI-7B2S3wzCbToROgJsYHIQEfope7eXnkYFLvvoaD-V6kayNEgQRqfpVVx8VlH5t5IB0pv-MKjxKFn44vEwYiIFO9_2QYt9aovC3fOSsgLyBAWiJB7vZOoynHN6S/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d856.jpeg" width="640" /></a><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipOGyaVU7U4sS4EMAlJSfIv9G_lZ-5JUQ8dbEYCaxn0TqHe4JkbUPqhTmWRs5qu6UawuFkjjvg3OrEk8OENV2_3JkVYUplmZLZNrCWl6TtDdvji4t79WRT60C4jZDFH5vMfzTQzIeFI_R/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipOGyaVU7U4sS4EMAlJSfIv9G_lZ-5JUQ8dbEYCaxn0TqHe4JkbUPqhTmWRs5qu6UawuFkjjvg3OrEk8OENV2_3JkVYUplmZLZNrCWl6TtDdvji4t79WRT60C4jZDFH5vMfzTQzIeFI_R/w300-h400/image.png" width="300" /></a></div><div>"<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Man it feels good to be country again.</span>..Tucked my boots in the back of the closet, they didn't feel like me no more. But I dug them out and slipped them on and they haven't left my feet since then, man it feels good to be country again... <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I traded sunsets with my wife for hours on my phone and even though I was right beside her I still wasn't really home. But last night we built a fire and watched the moonlight kiss her skin... man it feels good to be country again.</span>" <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_J2gGmoiOM" target="_blank">*Country Again by Thomas Rhett </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>The Buffalo and Elk Farms behind our home are some of my favourite places to visit. For awhile in my twenties, I explored other sides of my persona and neglected the country aspects. At one point I was almost embarrassed of my country side. I would get the hillbilly stereotype (which can be true at times and I tend not to run in those circles) of drinking every weekend with bad choices, judgement on differences, sleeping around and keying up exes cars, mixed up with the down home, honouring of roots and choices balanced in ethics. When I was especially liberal, I didn't like to admit to my circles that I loved my country tunes because they would confuse me as conservative. I read a book once that remarked, "<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">If you are not liberal leaning in your twenties, you have not learned full empathy and compassion and if you do not become more conservative in mid thirties onward, you have not grown into life's responsibilities or learned how to pair the wisdom of tradition with the previous compassion…” Or something like that - I can’t recall exactly …</span> It sounded reasonable to me. Luckily, with age, I have learned that I can be multiple aspects of myself all at once and still be true. Each one aids in balance...especially those rooted in my growth years. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsybMGQD67WTqqYQAlf7U9txf0pEIhqEcTEmicHhpAS5hFW3KnlNKtDkuohCaBiiVix2_4Oy266sRGl3tAMdqHQEfacC65OHCcQczBqENtFHoSEWZ13JiI7ImCiMeslUhvcKfx86XOTDWp/s2048/IMG_2206.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsybMGQD67WTqqYQAlf7U9txf0pEIhqEcTEmicHhpAS5hFW3KnlNKtDkuohCaBiiVix2_4Oy266sRGl3tAMdqHQEfacC65OHCcQczBqENtFHoSEWZ13JiI7ImCiMeslUhvcKfx86XOTDWp/s2048/IMG_2206.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72wFAOHdSTmuK2JOG91mk7vUIVKJED8OQvkzXdoAEJHSzm0Kyw-jRtVbbbRsUDSZooOjwMOGsqkDUPwO7NrjceUMqZnZAQjHSE1UcPOyNLoFJ6RnIYkIfhn9w3v_62wJviPvxeF_HV9jB/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d517.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72wFAOHdSTmuK2JOG91mk7vUIVKJED8OQvkzXdoAEJHSzm0Kyw-jRtVbbbRsUDSZooOjwMOGsqkDUPwO7NrjceUMqZnZAQjHSE1UcPOyNLoFJ6RnIYkIfhn9w3v_62wJviPvxeF_HV9jB/s320/fullsizeoutput_d517.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsybMGQD67WTqqYQAlf7U9txf0pEIhqEcTEmicHhpAS5hFW3KnlNKtDkuohCaBiiVix2_4Oy266sRGl3tAMdqHQEfacC65OHCcQczBqENtFHoSEWZ13JiI7ImCiMeslUhvcKfx86XOTDWp/s320/IMG_2206.JPG" width="320" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3W0O3w23z5WarPlA8N_Y7M_15ZVygKumGPhIe4Rr3Hnhdys1iqiZIhQftY7TODyLdR-Yoiw4hqGOND627kdB7igbJH-I_s4qVt6gSEwiymR2hV4h6_TOQsHOcw8wiHYnHrh6wiUHb_c01/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d8cf.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3W0O3w23z5WarPlA8N_Y7M_15ZVygKumGPhIe4Rr3Hnhdys1iqiZIhQftY7TODyLdR-Yoiw4hqGOND627kdB7igbJH-I_s4qVt6gSEwiymR2hV4h6_TOQsHOcw8wiHYnHrh6wiUHb_c01/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8cf.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I never want to trade sunsets with my husband for hours on my phone again. I used to do that. I thought what I was doing was important or world changing or that the people on the other end of texting needed me more than my family. But as Mother Teresa once said, "If you want to change the world go home and love your family." I don't want to miss the patterns on moth butterflies, nor the sound of Buffalo clomping across the prairies, or the way the wind sways the curtains on the front porch or the way each member of my family has their own unique individuality stamped into their expressions. I value the family traditions we built, while being flexible about change, growth and acceptance. I know it is BOTH/ AND when I am living my best life. I also realize my life is not for everyone nor would it feel fulfilling to some. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">However, I know that love, some form of roots as one ages, community, freedom of expression and a basic set of ethics serves everyone. It can simply look different in varying contexts. </span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkMFUHSM-RSkfYed3EveyQgOxInConA8qf0-xGU0lPMNWBIDlQJIDK2W_GKj8Xp09Ig_xW7tqLyanWHkOdOa-lIn8mLZ9Soae1rcK-1comkCbYwY8rTRKkZi1C6Rc8EuOaRWa5yXTpR9I/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d8a8.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkMFUHSM-RSkfYed3EveyQgOxInConA8qf0-xGU0lPMNWBIDlQJIDK2W_GKj8Xp09Ig_xW7tqLyanWHkOdOa-lIn8mLZ9Soae1rcK-1comkCbYwY8rTRKkZi1C6Rc8EuOaRWa5yXTpR9I/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8a8.jpeg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVd2qUm1cWZBsOqQslSF0REIzwee5HCe7Gqe5j5EetjuiOC01NRj7AbVZoeXop2rln8WWPWeBGhJ-s7UZWVMWeMWtgX7NacZfQaAOlRTrxc8wvUhxvGnfYH_SAHhkHeahmjKNrLGpoDbe/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d85e.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVd2qUm1cWZBsOqQslSF0REIzwee5HCe7Gqe5j5EetjuiOC01NRj7AbVZoeXop2rln8WWPWeBGhJ-s7UZWVMWeMWtgX7NacZfQaAOlRTrxc8wvUhxvGnfYH_SAHhkHeahmjKNrLGpoDbe/w400-h300/fullsizeoutput_d85e.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div>"Well, it's been a long time, since I flew past that welcome sign, smelled the sweet of them pines, and it's honeysuckle, belt buckle paradise, oh, that wrap around town you thought that you owned, where you learned how to live, yeah, until you got gone, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">And you think that you change, but you find that you don't cause you can't outrun what you raised up on."</span> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTSGXTiSAYw" target="_blank">* Down Home Roots Run Deep- Chase Rice</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-zjwAKKq2LQjZTrCOvrLhLzsFEF7O3LINVz6p9RnuuiHZX4f_EzgKJeUeP-ZlCVw2hyphenhyphenGJqN7CtueruinGmDD5743PPdEQK4lwjUawd7K91yzNF5u9CBl4o647BJ5tNQbQEMKvX_Ze4gS/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d8bf.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-zjwAKKq2LQjZTrCOvrLhLzsFEF7O3LINVz6p9RnuuiHZX4f_EzgKJeUeP-ZlCVw2hyphenhyphenGJqN7CtueruinGmDD5743PPdEQK4lwjUawd7K91yzNF5u9CBl4o647BJ5tNQbQEMKvX_Ze4gS/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_d8bf.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Y9G8_Hgn4tqQD0MmpLFxtFhb7UpBdLDUtFDix-HZhyphenhyphen3BGgJzCvE8ywFdIaJS-zC7kSxJeJ-rFF8L64GfogGQiLui0FGEW01VwNQVZILoUa0CzlB3bCulCfZSEEhdCC0vYjyf4PohanrF/s2048/fullsizeoutput_cca5.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Y9G8_Hgn4tqQD0MmpLFxtFhb7UpBdLDUtFDix-HZhyphenhyphen3BGgJzCvE8ywFdIaJS-zC7kSxJeJ-rFF8L64GfogGQiLui0FGEW01VwNQVZILoUa0CzlB3bCulCfZSEEhdCC0vYjyf4PohanrF/w400-h300/fullsizeoutput_cca5.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I asked my husband recently how I can be so country, yet not really fit in with the country crowd either...He replied, "Most people are not just one thing nor linear...but I think with your personality and romantic leanings, you take the best of all that you have known and try to apply it. You are like a tree that does not forgo it's roots as it reaches elsewhere but you are very diverse in your expressions yet they are all authentic...Maybe it's because you fashioned your Autistic obsessions of film into yourself as it is more unique in that regard? You know that where you came from helped bring you here and instead of hating that fact, you often try to embrace the best parts and even if you mix it with a bit of rosy nostalgia, it is still true. I learn loving life through loving you." I mean, yea he is the lifeblood that keeps me going and he crowds my mind with his spells and word charms. With words like that he just brings me home. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUWAPemvLhViaqao6RyaiMpM-oIrKRFb62UjjjW6Amzdu-a5OgSvVzOm-DUpY1XFr-lZ-Sf6iihqNI89x-qFCLn0ML75uaH9kABRlDPX0q1S-eHgS0l2cThBqMNXZiLpj1hXoJpJe_6Y-/s2048/fullsizeoutput_cab9.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUWAPemvLhViaqao6RyaiMpM-oIrKRFb62UjjjW6Amzdu-a5OgSvVzOm-DUpY1XFr-lZ-Sf6iihqNI89x-qFCLn0ML75uaH9kABRlDPX0q1S-eHgS0l2cThBqMNXZiLpj1hXoJpJe_6Y-/w240-h320/fullsizeoutput_cab9.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTF_PdiHkCHxNW9kQoGWet2RIjJq73eHbmxFXnJBsEmUyAU10x8LznWhtyGQbeCvVywR8yddj1F9clocYSF-vf6yji5ER2O4TivRSHSPGAWAAtHjhmPrDBm0ZluI3BPqY0m8aJr9Pc4ElL/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cad8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTF_PdiHkCHxNW9kQoGWet2RIjJq73eHbmxFXnJBsEmUyAU10x8LznWhtyGQbeCvVywR8yddj1F9clocYSF-vf6yji5ER2O4TivRSHSPGAWAAtHjhmPrDBm0ZluI3BPqY0m8aJr9Pc4ElL/s320/fullsizeoutput_cad8.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-Nc8BPuLUJXqJ-4rtPLppwhXCHLFBU9jjjfvuTpLlwO77Bbg3GvMYveYyEB9TmTeZhPiWNCS5V1cnU7CJYWQQhJbUfS8gm3HAsMXKo4NXQXWA-f-sGeoxnfqTpd9z1uuD2rynd-dUmcn/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cae7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-Nc8BPuLUJXqJ-4rtPLppwhXCHLFBU9jjjfvuTpLlwO77Bbg3GvMYveYyEB9TmTeZhPiWNCS5V1cnU7CJYWQQhJbUfS8gm3HAsMXKo4NXQXWA-f-sGeoxnfqTpd9z1uuD2rynd-dUmcn/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_cae7.jpeg" width="300" /></a><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbXn-Qlmd5NoJJr80B90fpTFJzm4nKBs6LwLdf0DuhQVdbTb9MviDi8V_-6jwo-IBIwf1cxx1LaF2PPnsZynxeJ573H93oGZKVNHvJ4Pivtkumyz5F-KDmlM0wjb3hyphenhyphenIFSie_UZdh1vVg/s2048/fullsizeoutput_caeb.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQbXn-Qlmd5NoJJr80B90fpTFJzm4nKBs6LwLdf0DuhQVdbTb9MviDi8V_-6jwo-IBIwf1cxx1LaF2PPnsZynxeJ573H93oGZKVNHvJ4Pivtkumyz5F-KDmlM0wjb3hyphenhyphenIFSie_UZdh1vVg/s320/fullsizeoutput_caeb.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSwRu9nHe1DWlOhP3dsS6w-_xq_9gvESFoUvq-DyT7t60a59VSU-denAxoAAHiLUejJ0cqkXJOfbqhiK6nag9h7jfBlDbXGnCMlQWwS8h4mexDvxSh-ysnT4zAg__fHSDNSua1JsVcsql/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cc43.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSwRu9nHe1DWlOhP3dsS6w-_xq_9gvESFoUvq-DyT7t60a59VSU-denAxoAAHiLUejJ0cqkXJOfbqhiK6nag9h7jfBlDbXGnCMlQWwS8h4mexDvxSh-ysnT4zAg__fHSDNSua1JsVcsql/s320/fullsizeoutput_cc43.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>"Sun comes up on the coastline, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">watch your shadow dance on red sky, feel your hair run through my fingers, oh your memory how it lingers, not a day goes by, I don't need your smile, I don't feel your heart in every mile, empty streets and whistlin' pines, not a day goes by you don't crowd my mind.</span>"-<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTHPmIeaIBc" target="_blank"> *Crowd my Mind Brett Eldrige</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoluXOvhN77zA8R3G8MN7KRS0NhhCcP8HB12T4PeUnge61x4xBOTHlIza6_317h8sprq8EdOtg8IS8eM26Z2fnu-QZlJlils4_onFYmuS06UZFriEA086L6_KmyoS34NKklVmiIacRvww7/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7b2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1839" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoluXOvhN77zA8R3G8MN7KRS0NhhCcP8HB12T4PeUnge61x4xBOTHlIza6_317h8sprq8EdOtg8IS8eM26Z2fnu-QZlJlils4_onFYmuS06UZFriEA086L6_KmyoS34NKklVmiIacRvww7/w359-h400/fullsizeoutput_d7b2.jpeg" width="359" /></a></div><div></div><div><pre class="lyric-body wselect-cnt" data-lang="en" dir="ltr" id="lyric-body-text" style="background-color: white; border-bottom-left-radius: 4px; border-bottom-right-radius: 4px; border-radius: 4px; border-top-left-radius: 4px; border-top-right-radius: 4px; border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; cursor: alias; font-family: Oxygen, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; line-height: 26px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; overflow: auto; padding: 9.5px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-break: break-word;"></pre></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDeq2LQ7Y8p7M6YVkTsJ3R5WgrnpXhuoEYU1HUOpvztyNtyS6WceBx3Ev8iQoxME178IxjNKoh7n8-HYwacS9hDLA6tHH6PXCRPLhPWTJ33CgTSSOczWo3X1qWv6fY5mZwUB6y69dpZ2pT/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d8b9.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDeq2LQ7Y8p7M6YVkTsJ3R5WgrnpXhuoEYU1HUOpvztyNtyS6WceBx3Ev8iQoxME178IxjNKoh7n8-HYwacS9hDLA6tHH6PXCRPLhPWTJ33CgTSSOczWo3X1qWv6fY5mZwUB6y69dpZ2pT/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8b9.jpeg" /></a><span style="color: black; text-align: left;">"...kick back in my flip flops...the only thing on my agenda is beers and sunshine, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">bonfires and summertime, back porch time...</span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Cuz everybody's drowning in a world that's gone crazy, don't know how to fix it but I think maybe, turn on the good times, turn off the TV, yea the only thing I need is beers and sunshine.</span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-vjdUg2bNk" target="_blank">*</a></span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-vjdUg2bNk" target="_blank">Beers and Sunshine- Darius Rucker. </a> Sometimes it does feel like the world has gone crazy and I honestly do not know how to fix it...but I know how to fix aspects of it for me and those I love...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYT52OtbCoWkautAFJxAeqCKgUtTqPD9Xfh_RAw80DLUpDS0SyYU-uBz3EC9cQ7Q2KRFHCrGrDLvHo8fZ3ab-_ZoItwibxvvStBKG2x6rcYjk1JRllkJIb7HkCWGM1u-4Dwx2Gp5ZR8yUk/s908/fullsizeoutput_da96.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="908" data-original-width="841" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYT52OtbCoWkautAFJxAeqCKgUtTqPD9Xfh_RAw80DLUpDS0SyYU-uBz3EC9cQ7Q2KRFHCrGrDLvHo8fZ3ab-_ZoItwibxvvStBKG2x6rcYjk1JRllkJIb7HkCWGM1u-4Dwx2Gp5ZR8yUk/s320/fullsizeoutput_da96.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FfBFyjGpd1f4G44MylmWcps2buYae1Kqc_osRAl-_hnG6B5ra2xmLhRoCbpPFrrfK89xbz9x-at0A8xKgQT7Uy6RwQitoUG6-NLh8CXCLuaJoG6tWT8fe6YiJRQmvxvYUp3ryOgkp2oG/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cccc.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FfBFyjGpd1f4G44MylmWcps2buYae1Kqc_osRAl-_hnG6B5ra2xmLhRoCbpPFrrfK89xbz9x-at0A8xKgQT7Uy6RwQitoUG6-NLh8CXCLuaJoG6tWT8fe6YiJRQmvxvYUp3ryOgkp2oG/s320/fullsizeoutput_cccc.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I feel that the more time spent on devices(computer/ T.V./ phones) and the more I used to "collect" followers or connections in the name of goodness, the less I saw of those around me...nature, my family, friends, community, sunshine, yummy food, bonfires and front porch sittin'. I adore my front porch and deeply miss it during our cold winter months. I am trying to find the balance between using my phone for pictures and the occasional text/ email/ blog post with people I care about (and I am grateful for those modes to a degree) and immersing myself in the beautiful world around me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGE8-6ac_p_YdiI9rR_HfdoaiBjEzbVG7RVNdh1ApQPDOQFZAKvP0A4bt8iTYCsQ53O2k7xCp9BiC5tYaAiNqQTWZh3aKmwPHVoS3l-HGUw4D6NFGD4HWm3wcnwtiKHCHCs9-Jax_rKHvf/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7b5.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGE8-6ac_p_YdiI9rR_HfdoaiBjEzbVG7RVNdh1ApQPDOQFZAKvP0A4bt8iTYCsQ53O2k7xCp9BiC5tYaAiNqQTWZh3aKmwPHVoS3l-HGUw4D6NFGD4HWm3wcnwtiKHCHCs9-Jax_rKHvf/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d7b5.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">My husband will gently mock me (in a way that I don't mind) when we are on a drive and I put my hand out like I am stroking the waters outside my van window. He will chuckle if I am caught doing it (because sometimes I just can't help myself- I am just so caught up in the beauty that I want to embrace it.) The roots of my surroundings run deep within my soul. I feel part of the nature which encompasses our home and it feels like part of me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ob1GRI1BhunOKboDXKcZlEQyZFVWDqby9cDxhapGZ5QhV5tlTw169rFTrhcysIyzVOHHcoNsmDw93-d4FJNFKKDHJlaNz7Q6mW_SWBkTuU_NJ4xI8ojlqqWaw9vsoLgzt6u-xeccPJ7j/s1218/fullsizeoutput_d8c0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="821" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ob1GRI1BhunOKboDXKcZlEQyZFVWDqby9cDxhapGZ5QhV5tlTw169rFTrhcysIyzVOHHcoNsmDw93-d4FJNFKKDHJlaNz7Q6mW_SWBkTuU_NJ4xI8ojlqqWaw9vsoLgzt6u-xeccPJ7j/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8c0.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUVkGXe3SLFiqswIwORswaa4o3TkqnPBbPhcwYoP1oGnjeI5Ub6xwR6w4iT1RAocMQxahyaub59RxvHjCBkylRwR172LFjbdti_CGVqLuYVo7sle3BKRbRS1HLGGxlD9toYRDK5kJcjJV/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7e0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUVkGXe3SLFiqswIwORswaa4o3TkqnPBbPhcwYoP1oGnjeI5Ub6xwR6w4iT1RAocMQxahyaub59RxvHjCBkylRwR172LFjbdti_CGVqLuYVo7sle3BKRbRS1HLGGxlD9toYRDK5kJcjJV/w400-h300/fullsizeoutput_d7e0.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>"...In between sips of coffee, he poured this wisdom out, he said if you want my two cents on making a dollar count, buy dirt. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Find the one you can't live without. </span>Get a ring, let your knee hit the ground, Do what you love but call it work...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">send your roots down deep </span>and add a few limbs in your family tree and watch their marks in the grass in the yard all grow up, cuz the truth about it is, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">it all goes by real quick,</span> you can't buy happiness but you can buy dirt." <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UpiotASY6o" target="_blank">*Buy Dirt- Jordan Davis</a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauIaNYJfxFOl1pqPldVoWKQMUFDv6jDFLJcvr5Y7lIVluA0m3OhHTRmE4IMhbQ0Z1f_BDDfAJfGLu3aTOe2G_1YIk6osWeJz5HKRv-CfZetJpVvfAZAyofmumekdfzF0cqa3FxRg6LCFm/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d786.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauIaNYJfxFOl1pqPldVoWKQMUFDv6jDFLJcvr5Y7lIVluA0m3OhHTRmE4IMhbQ0Z1f_BDDfAJfGLu3aTOe2G_1YIk6osWeJz5HKRv-CfZetJpVvfAZAyofmumekdfzF0cqa3FxRg6LCFm/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d786.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As a teen, I would stay home on Country Countdown day to hear tunes I loved. I would quickly run to my cassette tape if I heard a catchy tune and press record to enjoy the song later. I loved my country countdown and I still will put it on if we happen to be driving on Sunday afternoons. While 90's country is still my main choice, this post is proof that there are still some good country songs being made. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZXqDfhnD4E4ulk0A53ZY4IN9KaTZG1o6xIOFZNAKlMx9aGaOJ6PFpLf___aXlK5lw3v5l8qWWetgTu1VFSEv63UVbHa1wn4XEnAEH5xNHiYz2lH8YQRy3AAqqZXyztHIwsqLDbeNR_0_/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4d9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZXqDfhnD4E4ulk0A53ZY4IN9KaTZG1o6xIOFZNAKlMx9aGaOJ6PFpLf___aXlK5lw3v5l8qWWetgTu1VFSEv63UVbHa1wn4XEnAEH5xNHiYz2lH8YQRy3AAqqZXyztHIwsqLDbeNR_0_/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d4d9.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXTA_ER9_SIFKqBJzQ0UiAFWTvDGWf_p2XyQ81_ir9ex5eIU526fAznS7HObZYwA4Jo077JRPZGFBQMl_tSLR5kYeDmKKH4-kYDPzVsff3Sa0neogYhTAzh6t01rDxILGONtMboVgRYkw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4cf.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXTA_ER9_SIFKqBJzQ0UiAFWTvDGWf_p2XyQ81_ir9ex5eIU526fAznS7HObZYwA4Jo077JRPZGFBQMl_tSLR5kYeDmKKH4-kYDPzVsff3Sa0neogYhTAzh6t01rDxILGONtMboVgRYkw/w400-h300/fullsizeoutput_d4cf.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">How about you let this cowboy take you way.</span>..you know <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I like it, love it, </span>you want some more of that, you make me smile like I did, when we were radio kids, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Catching that count down on Sunday all the way to one babe. </span>When there was; "Do you love me , if you do, check yes please, girl ya know you think my tractors sexy, gotta me spinning like a juke box junkie, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">You make me feel like 90's country</span>..."</span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJBYxnj1AKM" target="_blank">*90's Country- Walker Hayes</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNY_x6uchj-FwOerHHW7lcy4guxpYwkyUt5Egk5Ipd3plt1co57uWpSDma5Q2sHRnLpBYDe940lDSYPhJTwUtSmapbKgGkuSwfOGfKszunTrb0UdTXRPUlwZarOEOPfMXU70vKD7-_28Pe/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7ba.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNY_x6uchj-FwOerHHW7lcy4guxpYwkyUt5Egk5Ipd3plt1co57uWpSDma5Q2sHRnLpBYDe940lDSYPhJTwUtSmapbKgGkuSwfOGfKszunTrb0UdTXRPUlwZarOEOPfMXU70vKD7-_28Pe/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7ba.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkhqch4BTp5n7LNWGM7VfJ1WcRvIOhgZYlX9taP2N85un3TF9_NDczIqitakVUtpghpU_2QxOdzfro2oEn9MekT-00Xc4K-LJ3xY-pOKaejQFcWIZv0VUJhFobgG4HelRXIfiwhDwBRQL/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7d8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkhqch4BTp5n7LNWGM7VfJ1WcRvIOhgZYlX9taP2N85un3TF9_NDczIqitakVUtpghpU_2QxOdzfro2oEn9MekT-00Xc4K-LJ3xY-pOKaejQFcWIZv0VUJhFobgG4HelRXIfiwhDwBRQL/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7d8.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I was a radio kid and country wasn't exactly the coolest in our small town, but some of my best friends also shared the love of twang with me. One of my biggest dreams was for a cowboy to sweep me off my feet and share ranching dreams with me. When my hubby was dating me, he caught wind of this and showed up at my door in full cowboy gear (which was a stretch from his 6 inch mow-hawk, baggy jeans wearing, big necklace jewellery self). He even composed a country song which he sang to me on a hay-bale (that a friend lent him) which he dragged into a local farmer's field as a date....and I liked it, I loved it, I wanted more of it:)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_TKwklmAcQtiHJCroXW6QuiO19RPJajjQodfofYU04Elj0IpRD7Jygb0kSL9_g1LBKrn9ek-WuL8Has7OX-JH2COTMtGtNzhRNB6VQuwm7gegkpKXEPbd5rn8o3a_XKurpksndsJdCLB/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d520.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4_TKwklmAcQtiHJCroXW6QuiO19RPJajjQodfofYU04Elj0IpRD7Jygb0kSL9_g1LBKrn9ek-WuL8Has7OX-JH2COTMtGtNzhRNB6VQuwm7gegkpKXEPbd5rn8o3a_XKurpksndsJdCLB/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_d520.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"When the new wears off, and they get to getting old, sooner or later, time's gonna take it's toll. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">They say nothing lasts forever, but they ain't seen us together or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes, Just a t-shirt in the kitchen, with no make up and a million other things that I could look at my whole life,</span> A love like that makes a man have second thoughts, maybe some things last forever after all. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">FM stations on the outskirts, blue jeans after years of shift work, all fading out like I always knew they would, The strings on this guitar the first love lost on a young heart, those things are gonna break after the getting's good, cause the new wears off, and they get to getting old but maybe some things last forever after all.</span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLL_DvKjvNw" target="_blank">* Forever After All- Luke Combs</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPslGsasF0rGk5PunapQbzHdqIQpTrzUnrS3TFRDf26tjZmIczeB01CD63NLs2VardW7IPai3zdXzI7jyis-tGZw-HJUDVi1pz_98Sm1NwFbblja37NZQt7PjZlrr03ou6xbyNDp1YnZE/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d52d.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPslGsasF0rGk5PunapQbzHdqIQpTrzUnrS3TFRDf26tjZmIczeB01CD63NLs2VardW7IPai3zdXzI7jyis-tGZw-HJUDVi1pz_98Sm1NwFbblja37NZQt7PjZlrr03ou6xbyNDp1YnZE/s320/fullsizeoutput_d52d.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZDuD3wX29BQVkrdrP2WjZgnxPs_WGH9MytjBDwogZKbqdOZn6ILkTpIMF2tX87SKOxBlsHZAqyyF0YoJG1MlL5SNveSHzaILiFfj6CBUqvfgZbmLp4v59v7u-5MoJO74ccgNcxb7ZtrD/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d7cf.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZDuD3wX29BQVkrdrP2WjZgnxPs_WGH9MytjBDwogZKbqdOZn6ILkTpIMF2tX87SKOxBlsHZAqyyF0YoJG1MlL5SNveSHzaILiFfj6CBUqvfgZbmLp4v59v7u-5MoJO74ccgNcxb7ZtrD/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7cf.jpeg" /></a></div><div>"Water towers were made for hearts and names, Friday nights were made for football games, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">falling leaves were made for falling in, front porch steps were made for goodnight kiss and I was made for you. Yea I was made for you. </span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uvIf9cSegE" target="_blank">* Made for You- Jake Owen</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JmOh4G1JQeuzIcTDaoKf8Dw8_2ywfUPFfOriM2nk_SmVUMLzPTeRmVtrNjM4Y8nWtZoaU9s2pFWIPxw2OR-MSfMjGHa2qMbZ6PtiKMerJ78cY4DUTd1R7En6GkR4s0CuMRSDx2lS9NBx/s2048/fullsizeoutput_da9b.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1603" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JmOh4G1JQeuzIcTDaoKf8Dw8_2ywfUPFfOriM2nk_SmVUMLzPTeRmVtrNjM4Y8nWtZoaU9s2pFWIPxw2OR-MSfMjGHa2qMbZ6PtiKMerJ78cY4DUTd1R7En6GkR4s0CuMRSDx2lS9NBx/s320/fullsizeoutput_da9b.jpeg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJifozbZ5D185pWqeKWEj1SOwqx3X0yPaOqR_jj4t6nLft7eJkRQMtH9GJljtFn7lYvzNt0mZbHPxAs5DTRQ1qUO7rmLWHuRe256NeDgQGJoKVImYSCPJzZlUbLyNUs1ea1zcGgrtWLxiO/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d48c.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJifozbZ5D185pWqeKWEj1SOwqx3X0yPaOqR_jj4t6nLft7eJkRQMtH9GJljtFn7lYvzNt0mZbHPxAs5DTRQ1qUO7rmLWHuRe256NeDgQGJoKVImYSCPJzZlUbLyNUs1ea1zcGgrtWLxiO/s320/fullsizeoutput_d48c.jpeg" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Her day starts with a coffee and ends with a wine, takes forever getting ready so she's never on time for anything, When she gets that "come get me" look in her eyes, well, it kinda scares me, the way that she drives me wild, when she drives me wild. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Beautiful crazy, she can't help but amaze me, the way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances and wears her heart on her sleeve. Yeah she's crazy but her crazy's beautiful to me. She makes plans for the weekend, can't wait to go out, till she changes her mind, says. "Let's stay on the couch and watch TV" and she falls asleep... She's unpredictable, unforgettable, it's unusual, unbelievable, how I'm such a fool for her.</span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Na0StAOUbg0" target="_blank">- *Beautiful Crazy -Luke Combs</a></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-gtMfVwNryhYgR7tCj1a7pBrq0YhT066DzIQ8N65cz-PU1rvH_HALsT972i2A3lr5cj7ZsNEHMzlBfpblLMRFe8xDzJDS0g0LQsD-lhAwzapuHGU11r9S7A3U6iRIIicqRhP0MT5cgDE/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d8d0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-gtMfVwNryhYgR7tCj1a7pBrq0YhT066DzIQ8N65cz-PU1rvH_HALsT972i2A3lr5cj7ZsNEHMzlBfpblLMRFe8xDzJDS0g0LQsD-lhAwzapuHGU11r9S7A3U6iRIIicqRhP0MT5cgDE/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8d0.jpeg" /></a></div><div></div><div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />"...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I like old blue jeans, guitar strings, and dirt roads, </span>ya know. I like girls that like the woods, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I like kissing em on the hood. </span>I like green tractors, Dukes of Hazzard and grits, ya know, country stuff. Country stuff, Country stuff- I like country stuff. Yeah, I'm talking about tin roof rains, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">front porch swings, back door, front door, both got screens, </span>Calling turkeys, beef jerky, sweet tea...Y'all it's all good.<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O26W3S95Lzc" target="_blank">"* Country Stuff- Walker Hayes</a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltGISD4NlUjatwDOSngkoqHHDeMkJThSs-2SiW3oieQFZ5pEnURyUVmp2zX9iVoNd_ZyBjCCupqTCQ6ubqrt_M3UTUwvsYMzPJ3RNW9CULJSVtl7FDyG8OmpDzLGpCn6LWdTuU4dR4-BW/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d788.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltGISD4NlUjatwDOSngkoqHHDeMkJThSs-2SiW3oieQFZ5pEnURyUVmp2zX9iVoNd_ZyBjCCupqTCQ6ubqrt_M3UTUwvsYMzPJ3RNW9CULJSVtl7FDyG8OmpDzLGpCn6LWdTuU4dR4-BW/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_d788.jpeg" width="300" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6Ht6n2gnCDPLAjjmY520ZrDjtfYOkZpbIyNzKC8pqGCvKZy8RUMRR-BgNV5D65SENmxyZKI8XyHOqgCsZhlt5Ismjuz4Fi_7GVouJ7pL68BQmcQ-v1KRUxzyG1yx9WN8wyBDywuugekn/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d4fe.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6Ht6n2gnCDPLAjjmY520ZrDjtfYOkZpbIyNzKC8pqGCvKZy8RUMRR-BgNV5D65SENmxyZKI8XyHOqgCsZhlt5Ismjuz4Fi_7GVouJ7pL68BQmcQ-v1KRUxzyG1yx9WN8wyBDywuugekn/s320/fullsizeoutput_d4fe.jpeg" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"...Can't imagine anything the two of us can't do. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Through the years, you never let me down, you turned my life around, the sweetest days I found, I found with you. Through the years I've never been afraid, I love the life we've made, and I'm so glad I stayed, right here with you through the years...</span> I swear you taught you everything I know and I can't imagine needing someone more, through the years it seems to me - I need you more and more, through the good and bad, I knew how much we had, I've always been so glad to be with you...it's better every day. You've kissed my tears away, as long as it's ok, I'll stay with you...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">when everything went wrong, together we were strong, I know I belong right here with you. Through the years, I never had a doubt, we would work things out, I learned what love's about by loving you.</span>"</span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIx9ntjL-jE" target="_blank">* Through the Years- Rascal Flatts</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZzq0Lhr0OZamCZ3xT9RyW6tU4yGw6HC8LReQfOL-Df_fenJ8a4k2vjwnYeebANOFb-CxHHeTJGpWl7mYSFe3qiHufXkycOBZKFIf7r0Xi-nDWMQdlK6s8qcQ-jIrBNpahYmRK5bpDpfD/s2048/fullsizeinput_da8b.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1674" data-original-width="2048" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZzq0Lhr0OZamCZ3xT9RyW6tU4yGw6HC8LReQfOL-Df_fenJ8a4k2vjwnYeebANOFb-CxHHeTJGpWl7mYSFe3qiHufXkycOBZKFIf7r0Xi-nDWMQdlK6s8qcQ-jIrBNpahYmRK5bpDpfD/w400-h328/fullsizeinput_da8b.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My bare-feet were propped up on the dash while we were listening to new country tunes on the radio when a song came on called, "Fancy Like" by Walker Hayes. We immediately cracked up at the lyrics. The song was oddly appropriate. My husband and I had just had a "date" and grabbed lettuce wrapped burgers at Mcdonalds...it wasn't in our diet plan but it was what we could afford. Cuz we are fancy like that. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHB6E9s5StKbF5l_fE24f7t604xmR3Xd-SBMExpZtejSvbv7nKNK7yrwVfdY9ve8qFoxFDQx4DA9Rndg252NAKcf3Sj5x1Zzh_fNGC3pSGAwoBackzTgifxTVTswal7I3vl4vswp8OVUBc/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cae8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHB6E9s5StKbF5l_fE24f7t604xmR3Xd-SBMExpZtejSvbv7nKNK7yrwVfdY9ve8qFoxFDQx4DA9Rndg252NAKcf3Sj5x1Zzh_fNGC3pSGAwoBackzTgifxTVTswal7I3vl4vswp8OVUBc/w480-h640/fullsizeoutput_cae8.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"My girl is banging, she's so low maintenance, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">don't need no champagne poppin' entertainment, take her to Wendy's, Can't keep her off me, She wants to dip me like her fries in her frostin'. But every now and then when I get paid, I gotta spoil my baby with an upgrade</span>, eh eh, Yea we fancy like Applebeas on a date night, got that Bourbon street steak with the oreo shake with some whip cream on the top too, two straws, one check, girl I gotcha you... <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">We fancy like... Don't need no mansion to get romancin'..</span>."<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zws2io7_fYk" target="_blank">*</a></span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zws2io7_fYk" target="_blank">Fancy Like- Walker Hayes</a></span></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicywVGJSXYV1BNW1WZ-3NXC57-hWtshoCk-tIfIyZVK5NTl6qXv9H3YEmtlfxuZzrS2NHXDY8LfHHteXwYCyGkDU9UOqLBwbRa1E-xIbdXyq88bUcxL9_nKZL5JprMPkg-D-en3YdxGRRW/s2048/IMG_1677.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicywVGJSXYV1BNW1WZ-3NXC57-hWtshoCk-tIfIyZVK5NTl6qXv9H3YEmtlfxuZzrS2NHXDY8LfHHteXwYCyGkDU9UOqLBwbRa1E-xIbdXyq88bUcxL9_nKZL5JprMPkg-D-en3YdxGRRW/w400-h300/IMG_1677.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"...body like a backroad, driving with my eyes closed, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I know every curve like the back of my hand, doing fifteen in a thirty, </span>I ain't in no hurry, I'm gonna take it slow just as fast as I can..."- <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQD6ic15zT4" target="_blank">*Body Like a Back Road- Sam Hunt</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTi7Hx77sVD4adFW33oYEqYTZX3tpMDcmTOsu7IfPhn0KinUFX_kZl1XVUWASmdV_5R2votTjopvNA7urWoT5AZbHXd19Rsr3er8x1ttiQ8UhF-gecL1CdKJbdCAL_AGCqIsLUEz2B0yNo/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4d1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTi7Hx77sVD4adFW33oYEqYTZX3tpMDcmTOsu7IfPhn0KinUFX_kZl1XVUWASmdV_5R2votTjopvNA7urWoT5AZbHXd19Rsr3er8x1ttiQ8UhF-gecL1CdKJbdCAL_AGCqIsLUEz2B0yNo/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d4d1.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our back road dates have been my favourite since we have been 17. The fresh feeling of youth still feels relevant even as we age. I don't know how, after twenty years, we still find new back roads to make out on. I love driving with my hubby, listening to music. He has memorized most of our range roads from here to each of the surrounding cities and I adore him for it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewom0EynLDd99wsg5yUITofRZHfJGjPU-JLgSfxIX3vmNJJIUG2nlOk22PiHwThoMr5bBmItu72L3mEJWSVEPp8mx0yZimVqtJwD-nLvH5bUrtozlxpEh7vqzJF9IaoATVBqrN_Rr89eO/s1280/fullsizeoutput_cae2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewom0EynLDd99wsg5yUITofRZHfJGjPU-JLgSfxIX3vmNJJIUG2nlOk22PiHwThoMr5bBmItu72L3mEJWSVEPp8mx0yZimVqtJwD-nLvH5bUrtozlxpEh7vqzJF9IaoATVBqrN_Rr89eO/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_cae2.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihM4d6fOMpPrryLYIcF22aI7QmHe9il4e6nTacfHjAp-zlWjfrnDS9skvbGXicIfGgb4n9piXIuexo9s7KCFFozQ8H_wFjlghU2a2zXYGSVIhphXlKSYlx-JGY-y__vuz0iw7vRRfqhlk/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihM4d6fOMpPrryLYIcF22aI7QmHe9il4e6nTacfHjAp-zlWjfrnDS9skvbGXicIfGgb4n9piXIuexo9s7KCFFozQ8H_wFjlghU2a2zXYGSVIhphXlKSYlx-JGY-y__vuz0iw7vRRfqhlk/w640-h480/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Baby last night was hands down, one of the best nights, that I've had no doubt, between the bottle of wine and the look in your eyes and the Marvin Gaye, then we danced in the dark, underneath September stars in the pouring rain, and I know that I can't ever tell you enough, that all I need in this life is your crazy love. If I never get to see the northern lights (we do) or if I never get to see the Eiffel tower at night, oh if all I got is your hand in my hand, baby I could die a happy man...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> I don't need no vacation, no fancy destination, baby your'e my great escape. We can stay at home and listen to the radio and dance around the fireplace."</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUAX1MHBpCc" target="_blank">* Die a Happy Man- Thomas Rhett</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JZ1pQyE0xIKXAvC9e_wH48SlxMwZU18TDC7omkBnv1Er7menNavrQQMR8wrXn7tIrPpV8-kvmlqTZ0ifvwXUwcZc1EU1xX7nTOV8r_qe-wkmvVRvPGzAr5bKE87jSLy7ZumOFzi12MKg/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7e8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6JZ1pQyE0xIKXAvC9e_wH48SlxMwZU18TDC7omkBnv1Er7menNavrQQMR8wrXn7tIrPpV8-kvmlqTZ0ifvwXUwcZc1EU1xX7nTOV8r_qe-wkmvVRvPGzAr5bKE87jSLy7ZumOFzi12MKg/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7e8.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWnf5XrAHuTE4UKz6ZUqVZ0raob0Gs2eUVMIy9Z3BEJGKpaZi9qW351hKSCRxRFQqQndAyhZSFIL1J-TeeTlnvTok62gz1AZZVHF0bCS1NeFISzWCiQS4GYt2HKDWaiRi6ryteP7CyzmS/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d8d4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWnf5XrAHuTE4UKz6ZUqVZ0raob0Gs2eUVMIy9Z3BEJGKpaZi9qW351hKSCRxRFQqQndAyhZSFIL1J-TeeTlnvTok62gz1AZZVHF0bCS1NeFISzWCiQS4GYt2HKDWaiRi6ryteP7CyzmS/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8d4.jpeg" /></a></div><div>Music is the rare experience that gives me the range of feeling I sometimes can not express otherwise. Country is one of the rare ones that not only makes me laugh but can reduce me to (rare) gulping tears. The songs about children growing and leaving... get me...as well as any song about losing a husband. The newest one was by Walker Hayes ,who sings a song to the future husband of his wife in the case of his demise. The first ten times I heard it, I could not stop crying and had to text my husband each time...When my daughter heard it for the first time, her and I both exchanged teared up gulps and my sons started laughing at us. My hubby said all the lyrics apply except that it should be LOVES glitter ( and all things sparkly) instead of hates:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisw8sSNrveL8QHFHeF5J8dQEBH3OQHXbrzsya5gvizat17QrZiC6x4MMtcU_ObJejaK1sq51QQXeqosNLYTap6B2hUqfpTo4NOm8Q7PXL8GdjSpbbTvpT6LzTa8f-d3g8eBV5UghqH0Oll/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4da.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisw8sSNrveL8QHFHeF5J8dQEBH3OQHXbrzsya5gvizat17QrZiC6x4MMtcU_ObJejaK1sq51QQXeqosNLYTap6B2hUqfpTo4NOm8Q7PXL8GdjSpbbTvpT6LzTa8f-d3g8eBV5UghqH0Oll/s320/fullsizeoutput_d4da.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjsd0WagyreN_hp6xRdx7syXcRfvkUVNfTG_DAZOp8P0R4ebM4f38MtblIi6PzwjF5rBCNOs5-iBlrG5C442CNs3xvHJXv-r18LHRbuSTgjNhvlaEDAZKXTlFvmdGL5M7EFG2wcUKQPZkg/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d4ee.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjsd0WagyreN_hp6xRdx7syXcRfvkUVNfTG_DAZOp8P0R4ebM4f38MtblIi6PzwjF5rBCNOs5-iBlrG5C442CNs3xvHJXv-r18LHRbuSTgjNhvlaEDAZKXTlFvmdGL5M7EFG2wcUKQPZkg/s320/fullsizeoutput_d4ee.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="text-align: left;">"<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She don't give two cents about money, likes a little coffee in her honey, let her sleep late as she wants, home is her favourite restaurant, don't you dare come home if you're hammered, better watch your mouth and your grammar, she loves babies, hates glitter, you better shave before you kiss her...</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">and if she ever misses me, please don't let her.</span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">"</span></span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VVWgRufgIU" target="_blank">*Don't Let Her- Walker Hayes</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB42k-ZosBbXV2s-Gse0PCBSKocKSuUP6lS22rDQ-l0_A3triAWt3cP-_ou1-oI9m9WWEkTSSkgWgy4JDwKZwDSA3pTGGBZ-UN5KopBVt3uq2FpL0EF9QAzNtFmQ-AdDXjS4jzf0elVq0x/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d3d5.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB42k-ZosBbXV2s-Gse0PCBSKocKSuUP6lS22rDQ-l0_A3triAWt3cP-_ou1-oI9m9WWEkTSSkgWgy4JDwKZwDSA3pTGGBZ-UN5KopBVt3uq2FpL0EF9QAzNtFmQ-AdDXjS4jzf0elVq0x/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_d3d5.jpeg" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRSOBsSj3uSNUV7waN7QNxwp875VeWNdVR7qAswq8CORwqUNUAKp2FF1cUuMD0aGeegS9gw1Z_NggX7MEGYkI4kUH5hz6fpR42j_2mHuFY4b3zNrlb6kvxMRdwZQ8KWOQS0gdktQGNPLh/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d421.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRSOBsSj3uSNUV7waN7QNxwp875VeWNdVR7qAswq8CORwqUNUAKp2FF1cUuMD0aGeegS9gw1Z_NggX7MEGYkI4kUH5hz6fpR42j_2mHuFY4b3zNrlb6kvxMRdwZQ8KWOQS0gdktQGNPLh/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_d421.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtANswAL55mLzkNVN1YekX62Dy0HwG4L3tmTxcWpWeV01QnfzroMc8FD4RQuBu0bcpzSKtHYiIV1i6AMiPqlSihFU-MBeBmkYaJkLM2rhF7De3ZbCYA_rVYxolkfJIr-zv1JC8wy1L1cNr/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d8dd.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtANswAL55mLzkNVN1YekX62Dy0HwG4L3tmTxcWpWeV01QnfzroMc8FD4RQuBu0bcpzSKtHYiIV1i6AMiPqlSihFU-MBeBmkYaJkLM2rhF7De3ZbCYA_rVYxolkfJIr-zv1JC8wy1L1cNr/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8dd.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlic-GkkFsuWYanVXxQO9tKc6GggRt6IbkOKx3Fr22JfMZ0E__lBcyDc3bSgzFzavp-FAT-ns3TMkZn2VJZI8BPfBAWHM8DrHkSrDv8-_okTPOMJvomg-YFTacd35ON2Jbik03iu42sHJ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_da85.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlic-GkkFsuWYanVXxQO9tKc6GggRt6IbkOKx3Fr22JfMZ0E__lBcyDc3bSgzFzavp-FAT-ns3TMkZn2VJZI8BPfBAWHM8DrHkSrDv8-_okTPOMJvomg-YFTacd35ON2Jbik03iu42sHJ/s320/fullsizeoutput_da85.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I struggle with sensory aspects of life, but I also thrive in them due to the same issue. I am not a sensory person, I am intuitive and live in my head, but country songs can help me be in the moment. When I hear the lyrics, it resonates...the thoughts I notice in my head manifest into reality and I realize with clarity, what I have and how grateful I am. I have had many moments that make it into the best country songs. They are not just lyrics but my reality,</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Red leaves on the river, footprints in the sand, cold walk in December, warming up your hands, sun dress on the front steps, sun up by the lake, blanket down in the backyard lying wide awake...That's a memory I don't mess with...Moonlight on the back seat, breeze through the wires, Springsteen on the speakers, girl I'm on fire..."<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idAt1UWhjVY" target="_blank">* Memory I don't mess with- Lee Brice</a></div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUY0b95a7pDFBsFzPXyG6ZcNj9Es3imiBUv7QXV2YnBspPDCYSf89M43ojthTTRng1oJ-sY9sih5ceIGjxESAtexb9vCMQPPecr_GVCovLnLeLweQD_o-AjjD9oRjzalkLT2vliSCx-G_o/s2048/fullsizeoutput_daa2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUY0b95a7pDFBsFzPXyG6ZcNj9Es3imiBUv7QXV2YnBspPDCYSf89M43ojthTTRng1oJ-sY9sih5ceIGjxESAtexb9vCMQPPecr_GVCovLnLeLweQD_o-AjjD9oRjzalkLT2vliSCx-G_o/w480-h640/fullsizeoutput_daa2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>"Where the money runs out, that's where we begin, right smack dab where the black top ends…fallin' right out of the clear blue collar sky, yea just lovin' this life. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">On the dirt road side of the county line, ain't rich but we're doin' all right, got my honey on my arm, Jesus in my heart, livin' like a lyric out of Fishin' in the Dark, and we work hard, live right, tear it up on a Saturday night, on the dirt road side of the county line. We like to keep a little mud on the tires, country on the dial, let the night roll on for a country mile, round and round this town we go, never growin' up but man it never gets old.</span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHerUITs57s" target="_blank">*County Line- High Valley</a><br /> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5GfDxO0mXwXaWFBD0yMTfdpfLyAzdN_LaGGXpCnJdXDV4ecoHH_kcIzoj5qgIZBnJtleEpOR_2qrOse3JoXqIdnOXrB2FC5U0i5X8aS34Mga7c1moNXQM7UPc3bk8mP-3Iz72JYkLOCzV/s2048/IMG_2637.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5GfDxO0mXwXaWFBD0yMTfdpfLyAzdN_LaGGXpCnJdXDV4ecoHH_kcIzoj5qgIZBnJtleEpOR_2qrOse3JoXqIdnOXrB2FC5U0i5X8aS34Mga7c1moNXQM7UPc3bk8mP-3Iz72JYkLOCzV/w240-h320/IMG_2637.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcMhlMdrJ-OJcv6LexlG8deGQ3Mo0_PRAVq8ko5HQsVFgiSeBecbAgMqqOu7GOw54_rDUxrvrsRG0kdEWrRqtx74AGSncRn-Xt3zUQajpX-fxu_OVwJFyNKSbJCrpYTRBnEtCnTpmfs54/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d91d.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcMhlMdrJ-OJcv6LexlG8deGQ3Mo0_PRAVq8ko5HQsVFgiSeBecbAgMqqOu7GOw54_rDUxrvrsRG0kdEWrRqtx74AGSncRn-Xt3zUQajpX-fxu_OVwJFyNKSbJCrpYTRBnEtCnTpmfs54/s320/fullsizeoutput_d91d.jpeg" /></a></div><div>"yea I'm tired of wastin' my time, on traffic jams and boss mans, chasin' a dime, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">You can spend your whole life, tryin' to make a killing, but what's it worth without a little living? </span>Don't want to look back at all the things I am missing.."<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8tRlz84gnY" target="_blank">* More time Fishin- Thomas Rhett</a></div><div><br /></div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMFPfGKBc0eKET3haY2IZQqJd1af59GJlQ9wFbXWyg39TLnYCJjHphkG5z9gjroYgmI2ssggXqgB-15SFHlVbr_SJeMnPWBZFOL7gHj8OjMwKdo21ttjXM8_FbQSHMCDFR7_stsX-kM5J/s2048/1770474E-42A6-4FB1-8103-C1853C7AFD9F.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMFPfGKBc0eKET3haY2IZQqJd1af59GJlQ9wFbXWyg39TLnYCJjHphkG5z9gjroYgmI2ssggXqgB-15SFHlVbr_SJeMnPWBZFOL7gHj8OjMwKdo21ttjXM8_FbQSHMCDFR7_stsX-kM5J/s320/1770474E-42A6-4FB1-8103-C1853C7AFD9F.jpg" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMFPfGKBc0eKET3haY2IZQqJd1af59GJlQ9wFbXWyg39TLnYCJjHphkG5z9gjroYgmI2ssggXqgB-15SFHlVbr_SJeMnPWBZFOL7gHj8OjMwKdo21ttjXM8_FbQSHMCDFR7_stsX-kM5J/s2048/1770474E-42A6-4FB1-8103-C1853C7AFD9F.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Sevr-09qhW1eyhAT1n3YtBt_dUrMbLA-YSijTnlAG8GYxEtAX0CTMp-NVDdlFsC2hP7P1-kgBW66TOO501-w6r2ldCjVlCNrT13kSPLN9U6herlvFm-7WrN5dfZ9po5Tm6E-ih6bTTsd/s2048/IMG_0288.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Sevr-09qhW1eyhAT1n3YtBt_dUrMbLA-YSijTnlAG8GYxEtAX0CTMp-NVDdlFsC2hP7P1-kgBW66TOO501-w6r2ldCjVlCNrT13kSPLN9U6herlvFm-7WrN5dfZ9po5Tm6E-ih6bTTsd/w400-h300/IMG_0288.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoET7nMsArkCs8rE8EE6PCM3BcZa7uXhod7qvUIDDmAiIj76viG4tNzyPPTbWf8peSPoS9NY65wuQcrzFYTxTtrSCeqfKcgefqyew8rmvW3RpqaB8CrURZZ9lgMDJOf_O7Z_O8HljidfD/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d494.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWoET7nMsArkCs8rE8EE6PCM3BcZa7uXhod7qvUIDDmAiIj76viG4tNzyPPTbWf8peSPoS9NY65wuQcrzFYTxTtrSCeqfKcgefqyew8rmvW3RpqaB8CrURZZ9lgMDJOf_O7Z_O8HljidfD/s320/fullsizeoutput_d494.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo5tZ8Uu79ZPcEhdEehwgPAPUUQx-MtdlBPJgy1bHuGjhCpclvi1XgDG3uUqroAG0P9AvxNU1iXMABmInhUAwMafW4zTN0WKU2hlItpXfB_lFKht_3urdUMIWXYIDNjP8ZJCaO4YkbeLuy/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d48f.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo5tZ8Uu79ZPcEhdEehwgPAPUUQx-MtdlBPJgy1bHuGjhCpclvi1XgDG3uUqroAG0P9AvxNU1iXMABmInhUAwMafW4zTN0WKU2hlItpXfB_lFKht_3urdUMIWXYIDNjP8ZJCaO4YkbeLuy/s320/fullsizeoutput_d48f.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><span style="text-align: left;">I have expressed before how </span><a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2019/05/the-beauty-of-blue-collar-labourer-ode.html" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">blue collar workers</a><span style="text-align: left;">(click) are underestimated, but in country music they are celebrated which I love. It honestly never gets old...the summers and back roads and yelling out *"</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8u7-Ht05v2M" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Fishin in the dark</a><span style="text-align: left;"> by Nitty Gritty.</span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>"..<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">.there was dirt on daddy's clothes..</span>. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">All we had was us. And that little bitty house and a lotta love. We had it all when we didn't have much... that old porch light that led me home at night...I can still hear grandma reading that red letter book of John, I can still smell coffee in the kitchen, with old Don Williams on.</span>.."<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7IV_naEawo" target="_blank">* We Didn't Have Much- Justin Moore</a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy8u3poeFqFmPT5SCFYZSJ4yRfmpBziPRg-DaDBWaUE-j_bxSkFP8SNiaswyghXgheGIzLts5T2JwN9dB7QWIvC4xkExBH-w-LBSX63N51deZ1fg3PODAS1IzRJs-VvO9P88lBW68DDxw/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4a0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1363" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmy8u3poeFqFmPT5SCFYZSJ4yRfmpBziPRg-DaDBWaUE-j_bxSkFP8SNiaswyghXgheGIzLts5T2JwN9dB7QWIvC4xkExBH-w-LBSX63N51deZ1fg3PODAS1IzRJs-VvO9P88lBW68DDxw/s320/fullsizeoutput_d4a0.jpeg" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>My grandma passed away last fall, but the lyrics above triggered a poignant memory from my childhood. Grandma's house always smelled like coffee brewing, and old country (Don Williams being one) was always playing while she puttered in the kitchen or sat at her table, covered in plastic, with her worn Bible sitting open to the red pages. Some things do not fade with time. In fact, often I find I am more in love with my husband than I was when I first met him. Even some of the lusty feelings often remain strong. I hope we still have many years to go... and despite what most of culture promotes, I KNOW without a doubt that there is something satisfying to full commitment...whoever that happens to be with. Yes, we have had tough years and of course I believe in divorce to a degree in varying contexts, but if possible, I feel that making a true commitment, and sticking with it, brings something that life can not give otherwise.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJZHFwLkhe4iS6Nvpu9x88iv2sWrGW-ToWqfZGBNcZMUfMCwjPaS-HJxCCH23cTcHyF8WKoVfXIwvoyd42Tg4DEQhLetVY-yhQ-0y9PRMyNtHrjhTeMRa-bCfXFFavFgchdLWLYB8aNq9/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d788.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJZHFwLkhe4iS6Nvpu9x88iv2sWrGW-ToWqfZGBNcZMUfMCwjPaS-HJxCCH23cTcHyF8WKoVfXIwvoyd42Tg4DEQhLetVY-yhQ-0y9PRMyNtHrjhTeMRa-bCfXFFavFgchdLWLYB8aNq9/w300-h400/fullsizeoutput_d788.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"I can still see that dress you were wearing, with those yellow wildflowers, I can still smell that vanilla in your hair when I was spinning you around, We just met and I knew then but I couldn't say it out loud, so we just swayed while the music played, kinda like we're doing right now. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Another year down and baby somehow, our song never gets old. The honeymoon phase and butterflies fade, but I'll never let you go. We were just kids stealing a kiss and it feels like forever ago. But I love you more than yesterday and we still got forever to go.</span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FowI5oFll4k" target="_blank">* Forever to Go- Chase Rice</a></div><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; font-family: Programme, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQBGzAo-UbHkLG-JfNakpaZDk6M2MU2RIxUk60tVGRIXBeo_upG2d1BwVRVxiY2KiFL-883KLHHFmMGjR2Du4XtSj2YUu5EGSF99Q4BEiQNKVD3xDxTqg-DQuYTOlH70huhyphenhyphenaOobkf80z/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4a1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQBGzAo-UbHkLG-JfNakpaZDk6M2MU2RIxUk60tVGRIXBeo_upG2d1BwVRVxiY2KiFL-883KLHHFmMGjR2Du4XtSj2YUu5EGSF99Q4BEiQNKVD3xDxTqg-DQuYTOlH70huhyphenhyphenaOobkf80z/w400-h300/fullsizeoutput_d4a1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGn7GVKD_U4A0ZMDQrqwNtq2ABcksnbV30JG8tR4ZkVlOH7HtzQxCCMwA14_eclYr2GSDehQkCY-bhoR78R2ovcWg_7vRXT4yeA6xUFDoUfCajhj8a58yJtc9C4vIdesT0H24yrr7T6TSB/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d47d.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGn7GVKD_U4A0ZMDQrqwNtq2ABcksnbV30JG8tR4ZkVlOH7HtzQxCCMwA14_eclYr2GSDehQkCY-bhoR78R2ovcWg_7vRXT4yeA6xUFDoUfCajhj8a58yJtc9C4vIdesT0H24yrr7T6TSB/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d47d.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"Rooster crow meant coffee pot, no trespassing meant don't get caught, hit the town in that parking lot where we grew up, it was ask her to dance, leave room for Jesus, Friday nights were lights and bleachers, </span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">ridin' around cause gas was cheaper where we grew up. </span><span style="text-align: left;">On country music, baseball diamonds, findin' us a fishin' hole, them sunday mornin' sermons, tailgate learnin'. sippin' somethin' cold. They born and </span><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium; text-align: left;">raised us on faith, hope and love, and made dang sure we were dang sure proud of where we grew up.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> You could trust a man with a handshake, Last one through, man, shut the gate. It was either Ford or Chevrolet where we grew up..."</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-AmS1p1-Ww" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">* Where We Grew up- Thomas Rhett</a></div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLftm6OYLZvD9xwTLLJ1oYgyxkRj_LNxNP1Qv3BBvEPwOOyDO_yHoJxsn-IlXCKVnTqkPr8tku1oEbuQwvibTGgCh2I-KswzlDRhI_DZZx_6YL3UQxPfl4DXgyId2LsmfNIZXitDDamPI1/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d883.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLftm6OYLZvD9xwTLLJ1oYgyxkRj_LNxNP1Qv3BBvEPwOOyDO_yHoJxsn-IlXCKVnTqkPr8tku1oEbuQwvibTGgCh2I-KswzlDRhI_DZZx_6YL3UQxPfl4DXgyId2LsmfNIZXitDDamPI1/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d883.jpeg" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQmrYjTV4SY9zuAwBpHW-HOExvEzfOUjSfOaSyUnGvGl54q9AjXUWaww1q4O3SGF2DarnZYe8xQmC7gSNKdDttw3hkoFrcN7gKn5AQCNdnkYxXL2M5PCJ4o0u-pILVKTSNGvc_65RjBCY/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4b7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDQmrYjTV4SY9zuAwBpHW-HOExvEzfOUjSfOaSyUnGvGl54q9AjXUWaww1q4O3SGF2DarnZYe8xQmC7gSNKdDttw3hkoFrcN7gKn5AQCNdnkYxXL2M5PCJ4o0u-pILVKTSNGvc_65RjBCY/s320/fullsizeoutput_d4b7.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3c3MONMMBKICJnj14s3zqnEPXPi2M6V9OBHQZlu-_3F_REOw5Iaj1WtpyudMRIubXxdXEzhY3_yVPHsOF4kTvEwr4GYf9P9v5vaIDqEJkhAAfSoau_EwGVhjnumDl81nh8yyLOR3QyKer/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d4b6.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3c3MONMMBKICJnj14s3zqnEPXPi2M6V9OBHQZlu-_3F_REOw5Iaj1WtpyudMRIubXxdXEzhY3_yVPHsOF4kTvEwr4GYf9P9v5vaIDqEJkhAAfSoau_EwGVhjnumDl81nh8yyLOR3QyKer/s320/fullsizeoutput_d4b6.jpeg" /><br /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaokM-WJSVRc5LEYc4NDCQIp5eumeQNxh6y9yD9jAVlMw-3ekJRCWoJN5n52cH8X7Xn7LfGkp3wcKLb1h2edTChGnzwvMBIQG-3lYRlyPcKN5vs4KQ5-yQ2FE0T_qPifUyEP0kgfND6Jva/s2048/BBEA62A6-06CE-40BD-8216-3111C01B0C59.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaokM-WJSVRc5LEYc4NDCQIp5eumeQNxh6y9yD9jAVlMw-3ekJRCWoJN5n52cH8X7Xn7LfGkp3wcKLb1h2edTChGnzwvMBIQG-3lYRlyPcKN5vs4KQ5-yQ2FE0T_qPifUyEP0kgfND6Jva/s320/BBEA62A6-06CE-40BD-8216-3111C01B0C59.jpeg" /></a></div><br />I know how good we have it and how much I had growing up...miles and miles of freedom. Our one red light blinking at the four way stop is still the only traffic light in my hometown, which my old soul cherishes. My husband calls me "A Romantic Four" (Enneagram) whenever I talk about my hometown surroundings. But I can still recall the Sunday morning sermons, even though I raised my family differently, I know I am also whom I am today because of, or in spite of them at times. I am grateful. I used to know 3/4 of the town. I am not that girl anymore, nor do I desire to be. Most people think we have moved. As I age, I am finding more value in connections, but I won't be the girl collecting people anymore either, simply because it the friendly thing to do. There is a balance. Just because someone knows everyone, does not mean they will necessarily add value to one's life or that they are exceptional. It can come down to temperament, insecurity, life priorities or numerous other aspects...some good and some that need re -assessing. I guess I know because for awhile I was that girl. We try to keep a good name but that means different things to different people. We heard in our twenties that we were the Wolves in Sheeps clothing, the strayers, the rebels, the liberals, the witch...but now I don't think we are much on anyone's radars and have no idea what they think...and on most days I do not care. But I do still strive to keep a good name in the sense of living within our ethics...It is between god and us only. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlPgYsr3yeGfuV8jiNAGEmYnj6u0Ngk0A7e2r8TzYATs02Tu4yjDN0DEq30rPR2AkeeZJGf2JdjqZrcibHmpVxRnVxhvB5BWLKk9v9REKVvwocJkHw50eyHDn5exySWRS9xnNyrL5xnol/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d83f.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlPgYsr3yeGfuV8jiNAGEmYnj6u0Ngk0A7e2r8TzYATs02Tu4yjDN0DEq30rPR2AkeeZJGf2JdjqZrcibHmpVxRnVxhvB5BWLKk9v9REKVvwocJkHw50eyHDn5exySWRS9xnNyrL5xnol/w640-h480/fullsizeoutput_d83f.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div><p>"...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Keep a good name that's the way we were raised, them main streets</span> and tractor seats we put some country miles on, them friday nights, wide open skies, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">back forty gettin' wild on,</span> sweet by and by, I saw the light in a little church way on the back, I grew up, grew up on that....<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">feet on the dash with the subs in the back, we grew up on that. Big dreams on a dirt road with the small town sun sinkin', barbed wire, bon fires, one red light blinkin', home team, blue jeans, let her wear your jacket, had it so good, we didn't know how good we had it.</span>"<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQr_KACiazo" target="_blank">*Grew up on that- High Valley </a></p></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1bRx044UVNIxyNYBUxBYbphNDkPhl-I2i37Im2Uzf_nS41Vtbc4ey0rXyiHgVRSLASsWE6UmAMSd-LlOrLtIPuJ6FPWdCSRmsdE-_3sXEDLCKtu1bt2AEhzeJwS7ynZocD7ocOnxX9gE/s2048/IMG_1774.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1bRx044UVNIxyNYBUxBYbphNDkPhl-I2i37Im2Uzf_nS41Vtbc4ey0rXyiHgVRSLASsWE6UmAMSd-LlOrLtIPuJ6FPWdCSRmsdE-_3sXEDLCKtu1bt2AEhzeJwS7ynZocD7ocOnxX9gE/s320/IMG_1774.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFStvTONuJwqqq6othnVMLRUy1QMSN-ZyGn-IMOn2JYT7UxNik7w73t8hJfrEnlkANjkVnAscNeCd46HPhqhhVbbNvEKSvsYsUt5Fr-JErKfSRGFrNraeuivJPPJQ6w0xqQf-Jp7DahFqp/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d7ff.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFStvTONuJwqqq6othnVMLRUy1QMSN-ZyGn-IMOn2JYT7UxNik7w73t8hJfrEnlkANjkVnAscNeCd46HPhqhhVbbNvEKSvsYsUt5Fr-JErKfSRGFrNraeuivJPPJQ6w0xqQf-Jp7DahFqp/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7ff.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>But of course we have bad days and struggles. Yet, when I am at my lowest, my family can pick me up with their love and I hope I can also do that for them. I try not to let current events, years, or defining tragedies or history define me. The day to day is so much more nuanced. We just strive to make the best of whatever we have and then pick each other up when the going gets tough.</div><div><br /></div><div>"...If I was down on my luck, you would pick me up...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">you will lift me up. When I feel like I'm dying, you come around with the good love, good love, good love. </span>Make me feel like it's alright, yea you pick me up..."*<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1fnInMNaaw" target="_blank">Good Love- Shy Carter</a></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFStvTONuJwqqq6othnVMLRUy1QMSN-ZyGn-IMOn2JYT7UxNik7w73t8hJfrEnlkANjkVnAscNeCd46HPhqhhVbbNvEKSvsYsUt5Fr-JErKfSRGFrNraeuivJPPJQ6w0xqQf-Jp7DahFqp/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d7ff.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatHA_4rOYFLDAPO-IY_lWyu76sKK6zyOOqt7GsrXyEpDNFTVvVg6AX7HlDw2cnmPFFy_IZFmRkRROfXJe28RUhyphenhyphenM8MU0nC1c_Pxcpt791_g9v9GG9YCiu8KryYDXZLyUs8FwLtcNa-sKa/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7c8.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatHA_4rOYFLDAPO-IY_lWyu76sKK6zyOOqt7GsrXyEpDNFTVvVg6AX7HlDw2cnmPFFy_IZFmRkRROfXJe28RUhyphenhyphenM8MU0nC1c_Pxcpt791_g9v9GG9YCiu8KryYDXZLyUs8FwLtcNa-sKa/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7c8.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DjYqf_knpRVyzZmS_anhl3fbsimAGQxyP5-8biJsm7PBgvIYYN_WpS63birXahczvNIdHAja-kPvcQ3BGLddqgi-DVqq9WfysP6jWPUb7YsTSBO2zZCrYbpS5U4cZ3QigQckbCKO0ovk/s1280/fullsizeoutput_da99.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DjYqf_knpRVyzZmS_anhl3fbsimAGQxyP5-8biJsm7PBgvIYYN_WpS63birXahczvNIdHAja-kPvcQ3BGLddqgi-DVqq9WfysP6jWPUb7YsTSBO2zZCrYbpS5U4cZ3QigQckbCKO0ovk/s320/fullsizeoutput_da99.jpeg" /></a></div><div><span style="text-align: center;">"If I go MIA, right around sunset time, after a long hard day, you know where you can find my chevy dust cloud stir, behind some good-wrench tires, way past the trespass sign, by the barbed wire...if you don't see me till tomorrow, blame it on the two lane, no name way out in the middle of nowhere, where that gravel gets you flyin, like a free bird, reverb, one hand out the window, like I don't care, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Til' there's peace of mind, way deep down in my soul, if I got country on the radio, you can blame on on the backroad. If you can't call me up, it's cause I ditched my phone, somewhere in the backseat..</span>.Just had to shake a little rust off..."<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o87k8fcImnE" target="_blank">* Blame it on the backroad- Thomas Rhett</a></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif8qYAzUbgLXP6LtsBv-8tSKjwlM5q2r64f09LBftCJB5IS_0NFe359ebDpSVM6epq6Q6w11brvSisihHUg97oymAgANkVWO5i_VCHtf9CyQWFTIgfaDRHn4D14dKpIVfdr3VuZxiiWMs-/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d7f6.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif8qYAzUbgLXP6LtsBv-8tSKjwlM5q2r64f09LBftCJB5IS_0NFe359ebDpSVM6epq6Q6w11brvSisihHUg97oymAgANkVWO5i_VCHtf9CyQWFTIgfaDRHn4D14dKpIVfdr3VuZxiiWMs-/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7f6.jpeg" /></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNjtW5_iPhsgT34AWwuLv661TIxN-O_LevxOlzEIVmf0mLce8Q_fZAzYDgnlS5KwpLhGqYtOFtmCqbiBKBS24Giru9nXGYp1qSBq_uHHpUwD3YaSy6e5eadRDfGBaLENhz32W991JP95K/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNjtW5_iPhsgT34AWwuLv661TIxN-O_LevxOlzEIVmf0mLce8Q_fZAzYDgnlS5KwpLhGqYtOFtmCqbiBKBS24Giru9nXGYp1qSBq_uHHpUwD3YaSy6e5eadRDfGBaLENhz32W991JP95K/" width="320" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">"<span style="font-size: medium;">Thank you Lord for the small things, like me and her on the porch swing, the summer nights and fireflies and the sound of my ol six string. </span></span>Blessings on blessings on blessings on blessings if I still have breath in these lungs, I'm thankful for all that is done. For my mamma, for my friends, for the love that never ends, for the songs that make us dance on this ol' dirt road, for my babies, for my girl, for the way they change my world, waking up today, I just wanna say Thank you Lord. Thank you for the hard times, for lightin' the way in the dark times..." *</span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wlkl4EQpQhA" target="_blank">* Thank you Lord- Chris Tomlin</a></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja80Y0-HygQRXH5t7QAlQ6utHHinlSHhDGLs4oyJ4-DQ6wATHGF0Z0W_4_8b_QEjJIUofII7ihp4nH9-C_2X05L3Tk9WMwCjvCsTOKekumqzuRll-TJJgMSXW1S7YV4HNrFobdIfJg-FwH/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d477.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja80Y0-HygQRXH5t7QAlQ6utHHinlSHhDGLs4oyJ4-DQ6wATHGF0Z0W_4_8b_QEjJIUofII7ihp4nH9-C_2X05L3Tk9WMwCjvCsTOKekumqzuRll-TJJgMSXW1S7YV4HNrFobdIfJg-FwH/s320/fullsizeoutput_d477.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjLM2fK8amaF6Dl8vhYLN90aoQwCEEz_oX4X-Ops_eqbMfglmo8XqGyxJIBWZ5qL6-NRuOk42U49SxTXh8yLqeEbqtWGJ_AR1j5AIpRcpfoVqjMwklgbnW_vTws6s1XHx7RFkGLIVaZedl/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d482.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjLM2fK8amaF6Dl8vhYLN90aoQwCEEz_oX4X-Ops_eqbMfglmo8XqGyxJIBWZ5qL6-NRuOk42U49SxTXh8yLqeEbqtWGJ_AR1j5AIpRcpfoVqjMwklgbnW_vTws6s1XHx7RFkGLIVaZedl/s320/fullsizeoutput_d482.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCLyu3xNGPnRg8X6H8Tqwj_NiFGdmFN_i45DSL5994YBI8rFNj97YCMbQ05dToPZW0je9fL-dLH8-eXlwdxQndRe-eQ50ug3vlH4I4VY34woPNEVyK3yEynWXz7JFIwD32GGqfL6aZvmc/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d46e.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDCLyu3xNGPnRg8X6H8Tqwj_NiFGdmFN_i45DSL5994YBI8rFNj97YCMbQ05dToPZW0je9fL-dLH8-eXlwdxQndRe-eQ50ug3vlH4I4VY34woPNEVyK3yEynWXz7JFIwD32GGqfL6aZvmc/s320/fullsizeoutput_d46e.jpeg" /></a></div><span style="text-align: left;">I am so grateful for Sunday Soccer games with strangers and friends who take time away from their phones and social media to just BE...even if I rarely show up and definitely do not play. Yet, my heart overflows with gratitude for the experience my family has, and in a way, by default, I have. I love that I see my best friend from high school playing her heart out, doing mini flips, and still being the best player out there with her muscular, in shape form doing back kicks and hearing her husky laugh echoing for everyone to hear. That sound is HOME to me. She is home. I am grateful for concerts with my sister where no masks are required and smiles are full of warmth. I am grateful for good food made by new acquaintances from the Dominican Republic and paid for by old friends. I am grateful for the sharing of meals, ideas, BBQ's, firesides, chips and making cookies with my former bestie </span><span style="text-align: left;">while listening to country music. There are so many aspects of life, I forget to take the time to say thank you for, until I hear a song that reminds me.</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QwdMQxg2812VvN4iM4w-dosEjYksSkxIN6MHAE0SYxyvcsiLtOWZR5RmSHwlwi2oxhDQiOBylbcvewDH9oxaW91tLclfjAJW4KC7VVWlzENg6Jf6yY5WC-HB_lJmwLDk4P6vaN7UlDZm/s2048/IMG_2430.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1hgM4K1LFlnKvFYgTZzXgvXU3uKKwnBtuoExcCmP8aOtul7d7jf9Yr8UZfyTr8PawMyOIcPzDqDa2inAqvz-_QFygozR4VSj1fJ3YCYvWPpVrK21T1oZ_tTJCydTazmvCWxOLt_Bn20z/s2048/IMG_1788.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1hgM4K1LFlnKvFYgTZzXgvXU3uKKwnBtuoExcCmP8aOtul7d7jf9Yr8UZfyTr8PawMyOIcPzDqDa2inAqvz-_QFygozR4VSj1fJ3YCYvWPpVrK21T1oZ_tTJCydTazmvCWxOLt_Bn20z/s320/IMG_1788.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoA324FG3owQl6kWNREm26OkjVVP0OUQPA8OiZa9jBp1qb7mhbRnfKPLShR5oBgnLRWwk8L2lN9Kmb4Fz-fYldFMT1fv6iJewKEOECGVYYqKEl8lGBRiXBwUAuVhp4hGWeJmcwncSt7kwx/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d8f2.jpeg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoA324FG3owQl6kWNREm26OkjVVP0OUQPA8OiZa9jBp1qb7mhbRnfKPLShR5oBgnLRWwk8L2lN9Kmb4Fz-fYldFMT1fv6iJewKEOECGVYYqKEl8lGBRiXBwUAuVhp4hGWeJmcwncSt7kwx/s320/fullsizeoutput_d8f2.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"You take my hand and you make my heart dance, with that throw back romance, that will last my whole life long, your smile is always shining, your clouds all silver lining, you're mine and I am finally where I belong. I was a weed that didn't tumble, was a bird without a sky, was a wave without an ocean, didn't know where I was going, till you saved me like a Sunday, I was running without air without you there...<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">You're the kiss that's waitin' for me...the ever after in my story baby</span>..."</span><span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yz_0adtzGCw" target="_blank">*Without A Prayer- Tim and The Glory Boys</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gDfvre4d_OX6pIHut1CrX4jnSW7R7cNiCovNKS5SMkds8IDMZ_ZFNKjCqobUwOgrjifDLZooaVAWroU36mOmdZPmF2jOgpJ_VA7yBmnbvQPxjUxVP2D9xD49uklmhFqeyfiMgnaNEEDs/s1280/IMG_2518.JPG" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_gDfvre4d_OX6pIHut1CrX4jnSW7R7cNiCovNKS5SMkds8IDMZ_ZFNKjCqobUwOgrjifDLZooaVAWroU36mOmdZPmF2jOgpJ_VA7yBmnbvQPxjUxVP2D9xD49uklmhFqeyfiMgnaNEEDs/s320/IMG_2518.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtuEJnnQpz47fFTVYad11EPg_atmPzwipRYkzO-40OmOTv2JDh6mzKAzv3ARRSiT90pY6AFw-nQ7mkleg7XbGDEHu0KrHbctki6Adjpvt59qYKc2yuiEh5jabBrCf3E4GceZfqc-WMzB4/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d7f2.jpeg" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhtuEJnnQpz47fFTVYad11EPg_atmPzwipRYkzO-40OmOTv2JDh6mzKAzv3ARRSiT90pY6AFw-nQ7mkleg7XbGDEHu0KrHbctki6Adjpvt59qYKc2yuiEh5jabBrCf3E4GceZfqc-WMzB4/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7f2.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p>"I ain't watching TV today, bad news it can just stay away, if you haven't got anything good to say, then shut your mouth. Got my windows down... and radio set to my favourite song. I'm gettin' those good vibes, I'm livin' this good life, I'm breathing on God's time and I ain't gonna waste one breath. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I'm soaking it all up, I got me a full cup and there ain't nothing gonna spill it, ain't nothing gonna kill it, wavin' those worries goodbye. I ain't trying to hear the negative, I'm just trying to change the narrative..</span>"<span style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEPYU8CifUU" target="_blank">* Good Vibes- Chris Jansen </a></span></p><p>I know changing the narrative (which truthfully annoys me on most days when I think about the majority narrative currently) starts with me. Sometimes I have to set up boundaries, even with my hubby and tell him to stop telling me the news. When the song above came on, I played it for him and said, "This is how I feel sometimes. I just need to LIVE you know? Don't tell me anything that is not relevant to our world. Obviously share if a storm is coming our way or if someone we love in another country needs help or something that pertains to anyone we love directly, but otherwise (and I say this with love), shut your mouth...or I'll gladly shut it for you." And he laughed as I kissed him.</p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPMFMlTzqzLq6h5MBXA_ZhdeiDUFegppREIOfNot8DcR0clSK9hWebhkBMfrb2AvSeVsnOHiyWNC_u1xczkrqqOv7oPvpIuh3xh-J837iiUwHH9qtqW89m8YwVHdJ0dao_8RuikWtBJMR/s2048/fullsizeoutput_d7fd.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPMFMlTzqzLq6h5MBXA_ZhdeiDUFegppREIOfNot8DcR0clSK9hWebhkBMfrb2AvSeVsnOHiyWNC_u1xczkrqqOv7oPvpIuh3xh-J837iiUwHH9qtqW89m8YwVHdJ0dao_8RuikWtBJMR/s320/fullsizeoutput_d7fd.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZRhrB0Y3n6X59UZ5qZ4s4WVueGd-yHmnCvlZEBl-AsoMsII0OnpdvuQVdJzaSUT_eXrrK5-8ylYaIoON2qtrGvq-JeVWnH1qwZA8AqZtizejNgyVa26da2ayr6fnsBuzMW6F9jdYyY4g/s1280/fullsizeoutput_d80f.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizZRhrB0Y3n6X59UZ5qZ4s4WVueGd-yHmnCvlZEBl-AsoMsII0OnpdvuQVdJzaSUT_eXrrK5-8ylYaIoON2qtrGvq-JeVWnH1qwZA8AqZtizejNgyVa26da2ayr6fnsBuzMW6F9jdYyY4g/s320/fullsizeoutput_d80f.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The older I get, the more I think, you only get a minute, better live while you're in it, cuz it's gone in a blink. And the older I get, the truer it is, it's the people you love, not the money and stuff that makes you rich. </span>And if they found a fountain of youth I wouldn't drink a drop and that's the truth, funny how it feels I'm jus getting to my best years yet. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The older I get, the fewer friends I have, but you con't need a lot when the ones that you got, have always got your back. And the older I get, the better I am, at knowing when to give and when to not give a damn.</span>...And I don't mind all the lines from all the times I've laughed and cried, souvenirs and little signs of the life I've lived. The older I get, the longer I pray, I don't know why, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I guess that I got more to say and the older I get the more thankful I feel for the life I've had and all the life I'm living still</span>."<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kElHR66Y3es" target="_blank">* The Older I get- Alan Jackson</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnBnbrXoxhrbhUHMsTIRT2fl7X8Mbwm3Ils7_LH9ifespXR5XJDS6lRHRGmZ6RKp2v62oQY2RR_-A4l7rIZy_SZ869N0w0y8_xvg7l2ZGeY22RYlf4f1mC7a_fwQK6p1iRStUE66OTQvY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnBnbrXoxhrbhUHMsTIRT2fl7X8Mbwm3Ils7_LH9ifespXR5XJDS6lRHRGmZ6RKp2v62oQY2RR_-A4l7rIZy_SZ869N0w0y8_xvg7l2ZGeY22RYlf4f1mC7a_fwQK6p1iRStUE66OTQvY/w300-h400/image.png" width="300" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Tis' true that the older I get, the fewer friends I have. But I use that term loosely...because it's less of the "friends" which were actually just people I knew a bit, but they were not deep conversation or us adding to each other's lives in supportive ways to keep us the best for ourselves or our little families/ lifestyles. In a way, I have met more people in the last 6 months than I have in the last five years ...and I am enjoying the connections, but I am also more careful about what I give my time to. It's that AND/BOTH again, but I am so grateful for the ALL of them, including the ones life naturally ebbed from. But I am especially thankful for those whom stay around even when the going gets tough or we have different views...we can still be friends. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKnqUzY0ZdAt4ql9sn0h5B47xYirl-jIdzC68IXnErs4BELDK34e4XX-j38Uj4Ux0olGfHY7za6XZHpIT5NR9RcaM2ak4BAvjVOuroduoeeVrfupWZQlyNtojjsoqA4CIjO0jjRWI-tzM/s2048/IMG_1354.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKnqUzY0ZdAt4ql9sn0h5B47xYirl-jIdzC68IXnErs4BELDK34e4XX-j38Uj4Ux0olGfHY7za6XZHpIT5NR9RcaM2ak4BAvjVOuroduoeeVrfupWZQlyNtojjsoqA4CIjO0jjRWI-tzM/w240-h320/IMG_1354.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I wish I could capture to you, the beauty of what I see every day. Sweet dreams are made of these things. I wish I could harness the feelings of a Sunday Drive with the ones I love most, and give that feeling to anyone who is drowning in darkness. One would think these moments are "too innocent," "too idealistic," "old fashioned" or "naive" and maybe those are all part of it, but I would take those words over many others. Innocence often begins from saying no to other aspects of life. NO is not always easy to say or do. Idealism often is created through inspiration and paying attention to beauty and joy. Old fashioned can be mixed with current ideals and ideas, but still hold true to deeper ethics that have been proven to improve life quality in the past. Naiveté is sometimes better than being completely woke yet miserable, bitter, jilted and complainy. Joy often begins with some tough choices and it does not always come easily. But sometimes, it is as simple as a Sunday drive, watching the sunsets, trees and gorgeous delights of nature outside. The ribbon of life's road is often winding through darkness and light, going towards a destination that sometimes I hope I never reach. It's the ordinary, extraordinary, things that mean so much and bring the magickal gift of contentment into my life's playlist.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPpMl58B1ZNU432Q7VPrAJtkF91Xt1MKPr-7Im7IG0oUbp2KmspCG-9fP7x25Aa9GOZD8EXfteOPMBkK3cfy1rwuFVRjFkGksxY0bntTE9U0m1s2l_aAji1vcB74YGOi8mGE9VpS-wSgN/s1921/IMG_1721.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1921" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPpMl58B1ZNU432Q7VPrAJtkF91Xt1MKPr-7Im7IG0oUbp2KmspCG-9fP7x25Aa9GOZD8EXfteOPMBkK3cfy1rwuFVRjFkGksxY0bntTE9U0m1s2l_aAji1vcB74YGOi8mGE9VpS-wSgN/w640-h360/IMG_1721.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>"They didn't ever say where we were going, <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">we just climbed into the backseat, eyes wide open to the picture show outside, </span>I guess we really didn't understand it all. Remember looking up at them in the front row, hands touched together, almost out of sight, it's been along hard week but now the slow release of a Sunday afternoon. And we were only young but they were trying hard to reach us, how was I to know that there was something so worth keeping? Cuz we were watching the world through an open window, trees lined up like dominoes, the old car could find it's own way home, it's the ordinary things that mean so much, that's where I learned it all, from them, to fight, to love, to laugh again. Man, I thought we were only wasting time out on a Sunday drive. <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The song warms your soul just like an old friend. Singing songs along that ribbon of a road. And everyone you love is sitting there, so close, you're never thinking that you'd ever get old. No, you'll never get old.</span> Just watching the trees through an open window...I never said where we were going, I just helped them to the back seat. Dad just laughed and said, "Son, don't drive too far your mamma gets pretty tired these days." After a few miles I guess they recognized some places and I listened as they reminisced about a world that they had always known and how it's changing. Probably never gonna be the same again. I caught them in the mirror they were holding hands and smiling, looking younger than then had been in years. Oh all through the years <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">we were watching the world through an open window, trees lined up like dominoes, the old car could find it's own way home, it's the ordinary things that mean so much, that's where I learned it all, from them, to fight, to love, to laugh again. Man, I thought we were only wasting time out on a Sunday drive." </span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rA6gJiDrTUE" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">*Sunday Drive- Brett Eldridge</span><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div>* Semi related : if you have Apple TV + the show Little America episode 4 is a half hour show based on a true story of a man from Nigeria who finds meaning in cowboy culture . <br /><p>Song choices: All the above lyrics. Click on the names of the artist above for links or find them on spotify- Considering I fit 32 songs/lyrics and 100 pictures in this post...it's a bit long- However, I will leave a few of my favourites below:) </p><p style="text-align: left;">
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rA6gJiDrTUE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Zws2io7_fYk" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8u7-Ht05v2M" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FowI5oFll4k" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Wlkl4EQpQhA" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s-vjdUg2bNk" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yJBYxnj1AKM" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-84832332524241661852021-05-02T15:39:00.019-07:002021-05-30T00:08:53.304-07:00In The Golden Afternoon. Contentment Where the Green Country Grasses of Home Grow.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5-EDqZb5xLN5ygiTCiVomv0hvWUCeh64T8Qrefq9J9JPHPmQiUEMT268CzZhe1A24nXiQ_K0dqU4GNdnPwEHB3R5DAzdgHqcUqwH1SMSmvTHISVwrdWxMqXEcMpRWBYGBRhmtWGRfe6t/s960/83FD18C7-C6D8-4F79-986D-E3C5A6562A50.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5-EDqZb5xLN5ygiTCiVomv0hvWUCeh64T8Qrefq9J9JPHPmQiUEMT268CzZhe1A24nXiQ_K0dqU4GNdnPwEHB3R5DAzdgHqcUqwH1SMSmvTHISVwrdWxMqXEcMpRWBYGBRhmtWGRfe6t/s320/83FD18C7-C6D8-4F79-986D-E3C5A6562A50.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixG42FEW8UaYZni2Ms7HA9EFhnDP6-vW9HPRX-MX747rOdkteNcGjgj_0p935veQiX5vgoR8MrtWjwrsyWdQV-fFBlTHlfaZaOgx5VISZwDTdC8Pv2-hioUXbZMympkxlkWnidRqsz00SJ/s1280/BB418F8B-B8A2-434D-9D91-DFBC2547B952.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixG42FEW8UaYZni2Ms7HA9EFhnDP6-vW9HPRX-MX747rOdkteNcGjgj_0p935veQiX5vgoR8MrtWjwrsyWdQV-fFBlTHlfaZaOgx5VISZwDTdC8Pv2-hioUXbZMympkxlkWnidRqsz00SJ/s320/BB418F8B-B8A2-434D-9D91-DFBC2547B952.jpeg" /></a></div><br /></div><div>My soul feels nurtured, my ailments begin to heal and my heart sings of belonging when I sit on my front porch. The neighbourhood is often quiet of traffic or people during certain times of the day which I feel are solely mine. If I sit long enough in one of my favourite places, I can hear and witness all manners of creatures. The chilly prairie breezes carry the sounds before the arrival of four tiny Canadian Geese, freshly out of the nest in a nearby bog, fly in a sloppy V towards me. Their honks are wobbly and tinny compared to those of their parents. I watch them until they are swallowed up by the gray blobs of clouds that threaten rain but can not follow through, due to the sun stealing moments in between spaces. For an instant the sun shines through again and showcases two gophers across from me whistling at each other and chasing in a flurry of tails and frolicking hops. My flowers and birdseed await bumbling bees and tiny birds of flight. I wait silently, hoping they will be found.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3u0nffguXn7HSgWGHfH7QE23o07Ki3ewKFZcDSbRKq36jOm42cpTNUizzhEnu7uZQwjfPYil1wfk2krUXFWBN2P_EEoKDCDiquvdBcZaoCYbPigsgkn7pP1B_GSFimNVrbFW4CCn-yJoL/s2048/D8DFC440-4008-4F72-8C5C-B3F70855B5C4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3u0nffguXn7HSgWGHfH7QE23o07Ki3ewKFZcDSbRKq36jOm42cpTNUizzhEnu7uZQwjfPYil1wfk2krUXFWBN2P_EEoKDCDiquvdBcZaoCYbPigsgkn7pP1B_GSFimNVrbFW4CCn-yJoL/s320/D8DFC440-4008-4F72-8C5C-B3F70855B5C4.jpeg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55kIgiNZaUx5NHNEpcAkvy3vLOdzeBtLj25N9anzvZ2X0tqyJ0_MJ-iQV30WkVYmt4MW6e-RSQ3WvNN4w04bCb6MGMnbbzsIL8HPyis9rmjIACjsxaXeyP4T0mKOCUMMiycgTSnRjhgwf/s1440/F16EA340-9DAE-48C2-B02B-772890898AAE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55kIgiNZaUx5NHNEpcAkvy3vLOdzeBtLj25N9anzvZ2X0tqyJ0_MJ-iQV30WkVYmt4MW6e-RSQ3WvNN4w04bCb6MGMnbbzsIL8HPyis9rmjIACjsxaXeyP4T0mKOCUMMiycgTSnRjhgwf/s320/F16EA340-9DAE-48C2-B02B-772890898AAE.jpeg" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>The first bee that buzzes to the flowers by my side, after what feels like hours, is plump already. That is a good sign. I smile quietly as I watch it take what needs to be taken. Half an hour later the first brave Chickadee sticks it's beak into the bird feeder before quickly flying away.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45Tsz0XeYxJnRFaaMXLhw8obDfiSLjwpA5Z-puaWQBtLfvLAbJmsPRQkOedaWb_AN4kCdBlEycDzErehEnsJxAHcl5m4ZvQaXWF86vCYlDBWO3BvN0uG7PYh2Jl_836QHSMt85F7GJWMG/s2048/D8DBCD25-F785-4165-B0E2-E26F646FDD9E.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1741" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45Tsz0XeYxJnRFaaMXLhw8obDfiSLjwpA5Z-puaWQBtLfvLAbJmsPRQkOedaWb_AN4kCdBlEycDzErehEnsJxAHcl5m4ZvQaXWF86vCYlDBWO3BvN0uG7PYh2Jl_836QHSMt85F7GJWMG/s320/D8DBCD25-F785-4165-B0E2-E26F646FDD9E.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div>The wind pushes more clouds over the sun. For a moment I close my eyes and feel the sun trying to shine it's warmth through. The slight arctic chill in the breeze whips my hair and I suddenly notice that chirping has been silenced. My eyes open to green slanted eyes staring back. The black cat with white paws stalks over our front yard rocks. It assesses me, decides that today it does not want to come over for a pat or a treat, and gingerly hops over our front fence and into the field to see if it can eat more gophers. We see it often on the hunt and it's plump belly showcases it's successes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4iBHr_rLkNEZZ0UrCbVCYHu3Q5h8wAXE9mHhxsSPfKNo3HP4HH8N8nKulvtDZBfUswmvDe5CZwT2X3heKt_a1VxPiytgJpjJGExqyvxgTS0YcI3iYdsMwHEd4PLG8PSWF3xvNw1SU7zCW/s2048/75E48907-CCB2-43A6-B1F8-D50C73F83D3D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4iBHr_rLkNEZZ0UrCbVCYHu3Q5h8wAXE9mHhxsSPfKNo3HP4HH8N8nKulvtDZBfUswmvDe5CZwT2X3heKt_a1VxPiytgJpjJGExqyvxgTS0YcI3iYdsMwHEd4PLG8PSWF3xvNw1SU7zCW/s320/75E48907-CCB2-43A6-B1F8-D50C73F83D3D.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWN523GJh0bOCBDyZBeH0l0BXQIcpXtujBMIExBdaTDeBCLh25sM14UnW7DxJu3LwqYrr0BBAzbRpCFrkdXYlopQmlYECu0wIr77L_QOONk5dd5A-Dm-k9eFhauzaKv8ejgwxOcFZw3mLa/s2048/963D3AFC-8383-4788-804F-09B8232659F8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWN523GJh0bOCBDyZBeH0l0BXQIcpXtujBMIExBdaTDeBCLh25sM14UnW7DxJu3LwqYrr0BBAzbRpCFrkdXYlopQmlYECu0wIr77L_QOONk5dd5A-Dm-k9eFhauzaKv8ejgwxOcFZw3mLa/s320/963D3AFC-8383-4788-804F-09B8232659F8.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I love this space. I can hear crickets chirp from the marsh a few metres away in the evening. I see varying species of birds nest down into the bullrushes. Sometimes at night I can hear the coyotes salute the full moon. On a snowy winter's night, we witnessed a Moose, antlers curvy and majestic, walk down the street, away from our home. I wished to follow. Instead I watched, starry eyed at how magickal normal life can be.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpokKxd6rrX60-6XmTfiSD633xb76yxHNa3hih5pgj1wDCkxzyQiwBZ2jJBWpXT1hQW90opwWjtGvxJ9E6aFHcelxZOn-2SOxx4n70w7yLzA1tuZKFVSfMfKnT-mqbFSl9t5sQqusp1Y4/s2048/C8DCC8AE-903D-49AE-8CA7-A20027CFC825.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpokKxd6rrX60-6XmTfiSD633xb76yxHNa3hih5pgj1wDCkxzyQiwBZ2jJBWpXT1hQW90opwWjtGvxJ9E6aFHcelxZOn-2SOxx4n70w7yLzA1tuZKFVSfMfKnT-mqbFSl9t5sQqusp1Y4/s320/C8DCC8AE-903D-49AE-8CA7-A20027CFC825.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Deer have also pranced into the field and into our vision on quiet summer nights. Snowy owls have hooted their song and skunks have taken up residence nearby. On our back deck we heard rummaging one night, to see the cute little form of a black and white skunk. Shielded from a possible spray inside, we had the joy of watching the adorable creature for an hour. Luckily, it moved onward, but these kind of moments make me infinitely thankful for where I find myself at home in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSONZEkeQ6hVV7a_T-IBg-sLzDSgSgUo2CgOgHip2lvKk4kQgCMvFtlGAbB6av35f_j_uK8BL2kPO5T_LJXXc8bEOVZ2ZgMsP2HZBqfFkkJWjFOuZ87JKIoIx225pwQ71H8a-G2ZNl0VNP/s2048/1938E456-72BE-4421-B8A5-83C7AF462886.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSONZEkeQ6hVV7a_T-IBg-sLzDSgSgUo2CgOgHip2lvKk4kQgCMvFtlGAbB6av35f_j_uK8BL2kPO5T_LJXXc8bEOVZ2ZgMsP2HZBqfFkkJWjFOuZ87JKIoIx225pwQ71H8a-G2ZNl0VNP/s320/1938E456-72BE-4421-B8A5-83C7AF462886.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>This HOME of BEING feels like John Stamos'* smile. Who can resist that warmth of feeling? If I find a person who can not abide him, then I wonder if some of their innocent sense of being is lost. On days where the world feels too much, I sit on my deck and I am reminded that the richest beauty is often in the simplest things. I still have the freedom to sit outside and soak up all that is. The tulips are popping up, as we finally are seeing green in our northern land of snow and ice. It's a short, precious season. </div><div><br /></div><div>My husband recently remarked, "We have ten trees in our front yard alone. That is more than our whole street has." (Actually our surrounding ten homes have a total of two trees.) I asked him if it would be considered socially inappropriate to offer to buy, plant and take care of for the first season, one tree per neighbour. He said it probably would, which baffled me. They could choose the spot, but he said such things are not really accepted as offers in neighbours. This made me infinitely sad. I love my trees and would gladly help my neighbourhood cultivate more for the birds to roost, the caterpillars and ants to climb, and the wind to rustle. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hrSzpbST7DdSfvjtxR7kzTGL6gh6BLd0ijj7HLcyNNTathkA7y0QcTo701cgsRTINj4VuysBVg_ABy0mFWGcT4kox1gdsdrCZX5q6LqjvG3p-dvSPrOVPzp8Z7YYAydJz7JTabyvJUNB/s2048/B97DD517-E296-46C8-BA4D-16C31209EFB8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hrSzpbST7DdSfvjtxR7kzTGL6gh6BLd0ijj7HLcyNNTathkA7y0QcTo701cgsRTINj4VuysBVg_ABy0mFWGcT4kox1gdsdrCZX5q6LqjvG3p-dvSPrOVPzp8Z7YYAydJz7JTabyvJUNB/s320/B97DD517-E296-46C8-BA4D-16C31209EFB8.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div>One of the greatest beauties to give the world is to plant a tree or some flowers. All one really needs is the ground and some good intentions, a bit of water and caring time. Yet, the riotous colours of flowers feeding the outer ecosystem seem to be be generally undervalued. Luckily nature has a way. It's favourite way seems to be the hearty heavy hitter of the herb/flower world; Dandelions. Yet, there is a spray solely for it. Isn't it that the way we sometimes go? We forget that things planted can offer more than a sunny bright patch of beauty, but also herbal healing teas, nurturing presence and the first important food for bees. Instead we spray for the hopes of a perfectly manicured grass patch that soaks more water than it should, and does not feed the ecosystem as much as a bunch of diverse weeds, herbs, flowers, shrubs and trees would. </div><div><br /></div><div>My heart awakens in the elements of nature. While I am not an outdoor sports gal at all, I am one with the cultivated, yet still wild within itself, nature surrounding me. When the sun comes out from a cloud in it's full warmth and the breeze enhances the scents of wild roses, I am transported back to my grandmothers home as a child. She cultivated gorgeous gardens stocked with wild flowers and purposefully planted schemes of the imagination. I would be sent outside to play, but my favourite thing to do was walk around and around from the front yard to the back. I would touch the stone wall on the side of the house and smell the yellow buttercups. The grand ship sitting in the neighbours yard was close enough to touch, and lent a Peter Pan type energy to my imaginative world. I would talk to the flowers believing that little sprites were listening. I would gather pine cones to make a circle under the large conifers. If I sat down on the soft patches of grass, my eyes would eventually find the clothesline full of linens flapping in the breeze. The light laundry smell warming in the sun would fill me with peace. All was right in the world when I was at Grandma's house. I did not realize until my thirties, that I had the gardening bug in me as well. I thought it was just my husband's interests, but it turns out I was connected from a wee babe.
I belong to the big skies where hours upon hours stretch out with full possibilities. In a short span of time the sky can change from foggy gray to patches of azure to pink ocean depths or to a world enveloped in silvery flakes.From season to season, the skies continue to inspire, enhance and remind me, both of how large I am in my world, and how very small. A blanket of stars is often the last sight I see in my window before I sleep. Upon waking it's the brilliance of drastic changes and possibilities reflected in the sky. The symbols of freedom, heritage and passionate, ever changing spirits.
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSuyvQY0Pp-ijHyUk90zwTikVSClYzqwvNJXVdEmyJJMOO8sHqBXHjv0M73nY9Dxf_bpwSl_rkh534kruMPii2rIW-EMNo13CYCpQIedey14Z_GBylYo_pIaThlqN4k0NEQ6fboOyG4jF/s2048/985442F2-205B-4726-8598-5346B43941FB.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSuyvQY0Pp-ijHyUk90zwTikVSClYzqwvNJXVdEmyJJMOO8sHqBXHjv0M73nY9Dxf_bpwSl_rkh534kruMPii2rIW-EMNo13CYCpQIedey14Z_GBylYo_pIaThlqN4k0NEQ6fboOyG4jF/s320/985442F2-205B-4726-8598-5346B43941FB.jpeg" /></a><u><span style="color: #000120;"></span></u><br /></div>From dusk onward the moon starts it's hidden path into darkness. That moon, unapologetic, shows off it's full face to the world, nude and resplendent without shame. Paradoxically, the moon allows itself to shrink into dark shadows. It leaves an air of mystery as it slowly circles inward. It's cycle comforts, hides and brings to light. It has witnessed darkness and light, shadow and sight. Yet, it never fails to show up in any state. The moon is a brave part of nature. A instigator of tides and schedules, but also a spiritual nature that causes chaos and moods. The moon just IS. From century to century it has witnessed the love and hate. It has shone down on lovers in the darkness and crimes of the centuries. It has anchored the earth and contributed to weather. It is steady yet not. A magical guide that is explored and scientific. A paradox. A beacon.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMlxFD8rsJQfMsFlzpQl2bqcEeI_urAw6WR1Nx6JETvQc0Y_7F73_2Y8i0uqF3VkJUp7kx21XyWdambmWHdD7IB_U-3kqvqPdz1K1D2BhvGYnivKjFhulT9wZOg1EHQtjqaY_Qxo8hGcu/s2048/11C29657-9276-4FC6-9B89-FCA9B7EEDC76.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMlxFD8rsJQfMsFlzpQl2bqcEeI_urAw6WR1Nx6JETvQc0Y_7F73_2Y8i0uqF3VkJUp7kx21XyWdambmWHdD7IB_U-3kqvqPdz1K1D2BhvGYnivKjFhulT9wZOg1EHQtjqaY_Qxo8hGcu/s320/11C29657-9276-4FC6-9B89-FCA9B7EEDC76.jpeg" /></a></div><div> The skies hold hope, steady inspiration within every changing circumstances, and wild freedom. Looking into the stars, following the moon path, gazing into afternoon sun clouds, or being enveloped by a heaven full of fluffy flakes steals breath from the lungs and pumps it back into the heart. From dusk to dawn, inspiration arrives simply by walking to my window and looking out over open fields and stretching skies. As Owl City croons so aptly, "Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere..."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0YbnjpZ6A1qxPAH_75s231bGwVwgWj1M1uIHH6cT_s7bZ0XIpXnWxp6bqS33k23HGcrLXBcQM-N6EGt4aMZLMAE31xJDnJcwjMUJ4Tbi595z1tbIw1D3qMYC9RKm8V3bG3W8wq0cor4o/s2048/B9DFC3C3-158D-48B6-BC52-EAA3E23417B8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0YbnjpZ6A1qxPAH_75s231bGwVwgWj1M1uIHH6cT_s7bZ0XIpXnWxp6bqS33k23HGcrLXBcQM-N6EGt4aMZLMAE31xJDnJcwjMUJ4Tbi595z1tbIw1D3qMYC9RKm8V3bG3W8wq0cor4o/s320/B9DFC3C3-158D-48B6-BC52-EAA3E23417B8.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">An hour flew by when my husband and I snuggled on our front porch mattress, basking in the sun. My head was nestled on his chest and it reminded me of a song we used to listen to all the time, so I put it on repeat, as the soothing gait of McGraw filled the hush of a sunny afternoon. "Creek goes rippling by<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>I've been barefooting all day with my baby<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>Brown leaves have started falling<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>Leading the way<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>I like it best just like this<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>Doing nothing all the way<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>So let's lay down in the tall grass<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>Dreaming away<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">,</span>And all I wanna do is let it be and be with you, and watch the wind blow by,<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;"> </span>And all I wanna see is you and me go on forever, like the clear blue sky<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>Slowly, there's only, you and I<span face="Arial,Helvetica,Sans-Serif" style="color: green; font-size: x-small;">, </span>And all I want to do is watch the wind blow by."- Tm Mcgraw</div><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdo_kF4uVNCR7WW0ePOIW_U5C5cN4wzwTboJSRvw3jv0gO1GO-TMyvr2GjOoQajEdvnLs5E97jCxyxC5yzLYwgvnNV8FUYdpKM8vkKH5ap1yXhfjoDVpM4IlB5SeNRBfOfIXpSdhzNb58y/s2048/438A74D4-C7BD-4C15-BFC5-52D91B807A80.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdo_kF4uVNCR7WW0ePOIW_U5C5cN4wzwTboJSRvw3jv0gO1GO-TMyvr2GjOoQajEdvnLs5E97jCxyxC5yzLYwgvnNV8FUYdpKM8vkKH5ap1yXhfjoDVpM4IlB5SeNRBfOfIXpSdhzNb58y/s320/438A74D4-C7BD-4C15-BFC5-52D91B807A80.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>One of my favourite pastimes and dates with my guy, is to drive in the backroads of the country. We find nooks that are ours alone to spend time how we please. We have found little ponds with cattle grazing, a buffalo farm nearby, and dips of almost impassable off roads filled with rocks and shrubs. There are no hidden cameras, GPS often does not work, and we are alone with nature. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3s_mI9S-Zeyfp9AqTDXivgTlfT1zgkemsUqejIeptXkIleQpDR2qoqR1T7X9t1ymNYpUtzS8eOuq4be18KbX0LWvnA50DMI0Jp3i3zdDsnLtCYyLoQlb34WjnB3dJNBsccmIZTD5IETz/s1125/42DA6467-5FD3-4682-B974-2214583BBA10.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3s_mI9S-Zeyfp9AqTDXivgTlfT1zgkemsUqejIeptXkIleQpDR2qoqR1T7X9t1ymNYpUtzS8eOuq4be18KbX0LWvnA50DMI0Jp3i3zdDsnLtCYyLoQlb34WjnB3dJNBsccmIZTD5IETz/s320/42DA6467-5FD3-4682-B974-2214583BBA10.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Nature is how, besides my relationships and inside my home, I find meaning in the hardest of times. My pain is often lessened by sitting for a few hours outside in the sunshine. Petrichor soothes as droplets hit the window pane. At night, if I am having a light attack of pain, I will make my way out to marvel at the stars, and hope to catch a glimpse of the wolf in the moon. I feel the protection along with the wildness.<span> Nature is full of contrasts and paradoxes...just like me. It's deeply flawed and absolutely horrid at times, and YET it can be so breathlessly beautiful with raw intensity that one has to catch a breath. It is full of extremes. No climate suits my persona more. I love it and hate it at times when it can also be a source of pain. The beauty is a raw, real sort of haunting that reaches deep and latches it's roots down into the system of life. The inspiration rises from the dirt just like the Rockies rise from tumbled trees. The depressing aspects are wiped clean like the winds forming the HooDoos. I love these wild spaces . It’s the fairytale full of peril and majesty. It’s the garden where life began to teem with thriving beauty. It’s the simple cottage cultivated for comfort in the unpredictable landscapes of life. It’s a loving grandmas home where the freedom to roam is not only safe but rife with the spirit of wonderland. “You can learn a lot of things from the flowers... all in the golden afternoon.” It’s my place in this world yet also anyone else’s who cares to choose it- that individual collective seems to sum up the most sacred within all. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #0066cc; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="cursor: move;" /></a></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><b><i><u><sub><sup><strike><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /></strike></sup></sub></u></i></b></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
</span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*If you like John Stamos- his new show Big Shot on Disney Plus- is becoming a family favourite of ours. </div><div><br /></div><div>Song Choices<a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1lG0L4ZHRwk" target="_blank">: Golden Afternoon- Alice- Dianna Panton version is lovely</a>. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hU0nP9dcI_w&list=RDhU0nP9dcI_w&start_radio=1&t=0" target="_blank">Where the Green Grass Grows- Tim McGraw</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75FwB7S-qFE" target="_blank">Watch the Wind Blow By- Tim Mcgraw</a></div>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/75FwB7S-qFE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hU0nP9dcI_w" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-15247594678424400762021-03-09T12:45:00.017-08:002022-09-15T10:37:10.395-07:00Getting to Know You- Enneagram Four Type / Forgiveness/ Beliefs/ Friendships/ Feelings and Richard Rohr's "The Enneagram; A Christian Perspective."<p>*Contextual Note: I believe personality attributes can be boxes to jump out of in growth and awareness. Like anything, they can be used as powerful tools or weapons. They can reach toward beauty or destruction. The danger I see especially in these models, is not being "put in a box", but being tested wrong, then taking 'truths' that do not resonate as TRUE or taking a sentence that may not be accurate (even if much of it is) and dissecting it or applying it when it actually is not relevant. That can be destructive. However, I have seen so much merit in people discovering themselves. 90 percent of the time, I have witnessed those who have engaged with their accurate personality (be it MBTI, the Big Five, Enneagram, Birth Charts etc) become much muchier, and be better counterparts to the natural world they engage in. I have watched marriages flourish when they engage with the material honestly and with a drive to BE. I have seen children feel understood. I have watched people who were living embittered overcome their personal obstacles slowly to live richer lives. So, as much as there are dangers or those who believe it is also pseudo science (if it enhances life- does that matter?), with a guide whom cares about inner wisdom and intuition, these modes of understanding are worth the risk.*</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaOgzO9p3gekQPszxEfdoqfkbAxuX6x-2RnD6m9AuIaZ9m9H1RBlh91zqWTTer7E0_RSrTUHLbSD6Wl99kmq48T-IilFdIfmHKUfg3LZ6T5rsU9hRxUVvFJu4A97CfG-d8EGUXdFbNnn2h/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaOgzO9p3gekQPszxEfdoqfkbAxuX6x-2RnD6m9AuIaZ9m9H1RBlh91zqWTTer7E0_RSrTUHLbSD6Wl99kmq48T-IilFdIfmHKUfg3LZ6T5rsU9hRxUVvFJu4A97CfG-d8EGUXdFbNnn2h/w300-h400/IMG_7464.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />*I have written about Beatrice Chestnut's<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Complete-Enneagram-Paths-Greater-Self-Knowledge/dp/1938314549/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1615317352&sr=8-1" target="_blank"> (LINK) </a>and Christopher Huertz <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Sacred-Enneagram-Workbook-Mapping-Spiritual-ebook/dp/B07PSCSYLN/ref=sr_1_13?dchild=1&keywords=christopher+hertz&qid=1615317395&sr=8-13" target="_blank">(LINK) </a>take on Four Enneagrams <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2019/06/autism-interview-97-part-1-kmarie-on.html" target="_blank">HERE</a> and <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2019/07/sure-in-my-own-skin-bohemian-type-4.html" target="_blank">HERE</a> . This post is based on Richard Rohr and Andreas Ebert's book, "The Enneagram; A Christian Perspective " <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B07H9F6CVZ/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i11" target="_blank">(LINK)</a>. I feel it's also important to point out that just because I talk about a book, or even agree with many aspects, does not mean I endorse all the content. There can be many points I gently set aside. This is a Christian book and there is especially one part describing Autism in the Type Five section that deeply misses the mark. (The character in 'Rainman' was a Savant and had traits of Neuroticism which can be co conditions but are not hallmarks of Autism within themselves.) That said, I still found large parts that applied to my Type FOUR which are worth digesting. I recommend the book, even though there are large parts on Saints or Biblical verses that may not be familiar to many people, because chapters that applied to my family were quite enlightening and mostly accurate. I feel this book can open doors for people of all religions and beliefs despite the believers content. Isn't that what we all should do for each other anyway? We can state our truths and enhance our friendships, with both challenge and freedom of choice, while still respecting the differences. I feel we can read books and recommend them without having to be 100 percent in agreement or even finding a lot to disagree with! In this post I am focusing on the few paragraphs (~) that especially resonated in my soul, but there is so much more in the FOUR chapter to read, and the book so I still recommend going to the source. * (Yes, I am leaning heavily into my FIVE wing for these two explanatory 'disclaimers':) <div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sbm187AZPeYw1u5ShEmvcQ-mDkfNkfLtZqooSDe6sc2di1HKR3ZbkG_GTPHHpbxiSMILHfkLEWdJaQjmCnT-_qepf-YFZk5zLVxSgtZPUY2XrzY5Qc5_yvx3003z9ZwuH3QN3_5kIWuY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sbm187AZPeYw1u5ShEmvcQ-mDkfNkfLtZqooSDe6sc2di1HKR3ZbkG_GTPHHpbxiSMILHfkLEWdJaQjmCnT-_qepf-YFZk5zLVxSgtZPUY2XrzY5Qc5_yvx3003z9ZwuH3QN3_5kIWuY/w400-h300/IMG_7908.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />When I read Beatrice Chestnut's lengthy chapter on Fours a couple years ago, I cried a lot due to many unflattering paragraphs and struggles that glared at me from the pages with their stark truths. I had to face myself. With Richard Rohr's book, I found more solace in the Four type. This could probably partially be explained by the fact that I did a lot of soul work after Chestnut's book to balance out my 5 and 3 wings and work on my struggle with FOUR envy. Rohr's book is like the Moon's gentle glow on a concrete parking lot. Suddenly the concrete almost sparkles with the reflection of shared kindness.<p></p><p>~"Fours put their gifts to work to awaken a sense of beauty and harmony in their surroundings. They are highly sensitive and almost always artistically gifted; they can express their feelings in dance, music, painting, the theatre or literature. Everything with a vital energy attracts them and they grasp the moods and feelings of other people and the atmosphere of places and events with seismographic precision." (Pg. 98) ~</p><p>I feel lifted to euphoria when I am surrounded by the beauty in nature, my home or in a great song or book. I FEEL words as if they were chocolate melting on my tongue. I experience a gentle wind as whirls of invisible colours dancing inside my heart, ready to take flight. I catch a whiff of my beeswax candles as I walk by them in my house, and feel a jolt of joy and serenity. When I contemplate the art in my house, I can sense the energy of creativity from it's source uplift and renew me- to the point that I feel like my soul is floating outside of itself. I can feel the energy of another person and adjust mine accordingly to bring what is most often needed. I love vitality and the energy it induces because often I can also get lost in melancholy or lost in feeling that is undirected. I can also get lost in the glory of solitude or the onset of each season to the point that I forget I am human and am just part of it all. It's a feeling that can not be captured justifiably by the many descriptive words we have wonderfully created. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpM7m9DETGHmrpfuMeVTBHBAMIVdgcVN70XKGZdH2H_p51EyKViz5AK926ro6z_HyBreTJhb_3x0-Tajmy1QFI8OA4orw8WGGM5yyu5hm9hWfZx0PwJsNLq55SKWvw02YB4-xSd0kylyr/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpM7m9DETGHmrpfuMeVTBHBAMIVdgcVN70XKGZdH2H_p51EyKViz5AK926ro6z_HyBreTJhb_3x0-Tajmy1QFI8OA4orw8WGGM5yyu5hm9hWfZx0PwJsNLq55SKWvw02YB4-xSd0kylyr/w400-h400/D504F3E1-ECB5-4B57-949C-EEE9F230AA98.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />~"The life of Fours is primarily shaped by longing; the longing for beauty and the wish that the world and life would fit together into a harmonic whole. Dostoyevsky once said, "The world will be saved by beauty." Fours believe in this principle." (Pg. 98) ~<p></p><p><strike>Sometimes</strike>, Often, my longing for harmony and beauty is painful. I believe often in Dostoyevsky's words. How can we not heal from beauty? (When a FOUR says beauty- they mean the SOUL of everything including aesthetic beauty but not in the one size, perfect complexion of Hollywood. We mean nature, the essence of people, and the great works people create etc. )</p><p>~"Fours revere great authorities; important poets, musicians, gurus or counselors who have something "deep" about them or something "special." Only this sort of of "inner authority" counts. Formal authorities that aren't backed up by their personality make no impression on a FOUR...Their nose for the "authentic" is infallible." (Pg. 100) ~</p><p>For better or worse, this is my truth. I am not impressed by formal 'authority', institutions or inauthentic networking. I gravitate towards those who are authentic in their pursuits, their love and honour their inner depths.</p><p>~..."And they prefer to buy their clothes in a secondhand shop or a boutique.." (pg. 100) ~</p><p>I was surprised to find this statement, as I thought it was just because as an Autistic person, I prefer lived in, pre shrunk clothes. When I discovered Platos Closet, my budget and my happiness improved. I only buy clothes that are secondhand for the most part and find the originality and hunt for pieces, especially rewarding. I like clothes with a story I will never know.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzj545Xn6uECaOKYonzmQDEZqAvle5Gf9UaHNYutqUF7tyZs3dYXHE6kEt4TWaI_NSVwuA2TnctVlCBLXT6i6S021-MGwQj4ZOJ7yzVpOD4BTNcAOFL62ztnThdoq6U9JiJqUA3Y04E2Zu/s1800/7A6F4556-EA65-4DB6-8BC7-3125C4A08FE1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzj545Xn6uECaOKYonzmQDEZqAvle5Gf9UaHNYutqUF7tyZs3dYXHE6kEt4TWaI_NSVwuA2TnctVlCBLXT6i6S021-MGwQj4ZOJ7yzVpOD4BTNcAOFL62ztnThdoq6U9JiJqUA3Y04E2Zu/w320-h400/7A6F4556-EA65-4DB6-8BC7-3125C4A08FE1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>~"Fours have a tendency to idealize the "unwashed masses" and can write great romantic novels about the 'noble poor' (Victor Hugo). But they do this form an ivory tower and in reality they can hardly endure living in real dirt and hardcore poverty." (Pg. 100) ~<p></p><p>My family laughed at the quote above and I cringed. I do deeply admire the "unwashed masses" so to speak and often write or do deeds for them. However, if I had to live in extreme poverty, I know I would probably be the first to give up or not withstand the hardships. While we are considered under the poverty line in Canada, we are still enriched beyond measure and I do admit that my home could be viewed by much of the world as an ivory tower. I can't do much about this fact in myself, except to know my limits and be aware that I have this tendency and to give when I can as much as I can, when appropriate. We need people who have more too because they can also give. I know many who have way more than I, whom I am so thankful for because they give to the world in a way I can not. I do not envy what they worked or made sacrifices for either, so at least there is that aspect I suppose.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyzsX7crdP_r49a8KSzkbhQdQrtdyJG6jxyMH-nNP7_UWVcFWwtPiZo00hhmprAe_-VGVJqV6H7etEf4az-pjFM4P-buMtiU4ExR_4WEXLMQyq2GfDsXNxyisIHQ1HwtMb0UQ-zVPn7zJU/s1280/fullsizeoutput_8951.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyzsX7crdP_r49a8KSzkbhQdQrtdyJG6jxyMH-nNP7_UWVcFWwtPiZo00hhmprAe_-VGVJqV6H7etEf4az-pjFM4P-buMtiU4ExR_4WEXLMQyq2GfDsXNxyisIHQ1HwtMb0UQ-zVPn7zJU/s320/fullsizeoutput_8951.jpeg" /></a></div><br />~"Children, nature and everything that radiates originality awakens in them the longing for the simplicity and naturalness that they lost at some point." (Pg. 101) ~<p></p><p>You know those moments when a truth hits your soul so hard, you gasp with the realization that was only subconscious awareness moments before? The statement above felt like someone gently pushed me into a field of fragrant roses of knowing. That is why I love children and nature so much?!? YES! A resounding yes...how did I not know it was their originality that awakens my longing for simplicity?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UEIhl9vYqpq5qX2d4PcJYoWhdecVAjC8nBjYsWoptK3KyCDBN7d0VD5gfwFsYVzZUatR_CA6GTefXIg4UxXxmaATzuR1B0oWII_G-_iW5nrL9eVWMMwIZl__dy7b2UpFW9lBJ3H3cMt9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_UEIhl9vYqpq5qX2d4PcJYoWhdecVAjC8nBjYsWoptK3KyCDBN7d0VD5gfwFsYVzZUatR_CA6GTefXIg4UxXxmaATzuR1B0oWII_G-_iW5nrL9eVWMMwIZl__dy7b2UpFW9lBJ3H3cMt9/w400-h300/IMG_7814.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />~"Feelings are not expressed directly, but indirectly through symbols, rituals and dramatic styling. This is supposed to alleviate the pain of real grief and the fear of rejection." (Pg.102) ~<p></p><p>My home is a temple to this statement. I have symbols, rituals and dramatic styling squeezed into every open space. I need these to surround me to survive the grief and rejection that can often accompany me. Since I set up my hearth in this way, I am much more of a balanced person and can often be a strong comfort during grief and heal swifter from rejection I often feel. Before my house symbolized my inner soul, it was tougher for me, without the safe place and tangible reminders of my feelings outside of myself, to figure out a peace filled stance to meet the world with.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqBTRnW3x5954M6medSwpzn8afYMQnf0K8YkTXQBZ3m4BvVTXpKSV6MEgBm6AjuNObTkC-f8fTHu8UMEr-cZ9u16Xz9HHdcQKsZdDXSHybf_f7H44gk3FY8NF6_XdG-4w0KKqlAI8CPhD/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqBTRnW3x5954M6medSwpzn8afYMQnf0K8YkTXQBZ3m4BvVTXpKSV6MEgBm6AjuNObTkC-f8fTHu8UMEr-cZ9u16Xz9HHdcQKsZdDXSHybf_f7H44gk3FY8NF6_XdG-4w0KKqlAI8CPhD/w400-h400/C06366BC-7775-43BA-9091-C1F89D56EC90.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Art by Lady Viktoria on Etsy) </div><br />~"Fours sometimes live their lives like a Gesamtkunstwerk, a total work of art. Clothing, interior decoration, hobbies, circle of friends, and habits are adjusted to each other in a way that often seems accidental but in reality is carefully staged. Aesthetic points of view, which often can be appreciated only with difficulty, play the lead role here. One classic expression of the attitude is what is called 'Bohemia..." (Pg. 102) ~<p></p><p>Shhhhh...you learned my secret. In fact, I learned about it by reading this too, as this is mostly subconscious, but when I thought about it in depth, I realized, yea I carefully stage a lot in my home life etc. When watching 'Wanda Vision', when Wanda was controlling her world but not meaning to hurt anyone, my family would look at her gestures or the trauma covered by her bright smile and remark, "Scarlet Witch resembles you often." At first I was a little bothered but it was a fair statement. They went on to explain that it's actually quite flattering too, because of the amount of power she can use for good and influence, and the way she fiercely protects those she loves and some of her magical qualities. Then I was a bit more flattered. Funny enough, my former Bestie came over recently. We were chatting and she randomly said, "Ya know, our family is watching a show that often reminds me of you, mostly in a good way I think, but there was one part in the last episode that I had to sit back and whisper your name with a big wow. You may have heard of it? It's called Wanda Vision and the part I am talking about is when Agatha acknowledges Wanda's powers and calls her the 'Scarlet Witch.'" I laughed heartily, because my former bestie of 15 close years of friendship, despite two years apart, saw the same thing. (<a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2019/03/intj-and-infj-pros-and-cons-in.html" target="_blank"> SEE HERE</a> for more on us.) So for her to see that too was obviously saying something....Also, yes I am quite Boho on occasion.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rMbRZRRj8oxPxWZHYe_G3Qs8jfw-KlRYc7CssTj60AfXpInqor8Sllnn4p1Z49y_ALJVLVqiAmIj9yziE4VHaCiYLfGfoUpi91bGlcOhc8vtLHqGpc7QVLHHwxKFT_AP02ljAnLAymSQ/s1800/fullsizeoutput_98f0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6rMbRZRRj8oxPxWZHYe_G3Qs8jfw-KlRYc7CssTj60AfXpInqor8Sllnn4p1Z49y_ALJVLVqiAmIj9yziE4VHaCiYLfGfoUpi91bGlcOhc8vtLHqGpc7QVLHHwxKFT_AP02ljAnLAymSQ/w320-h400/fullsizeoutput_98f0.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />~ "The pitfall of FOURS is their melancholy, a 'sweet sadness' that lies over their whole lives like a fog. FOURS have to be depressed and suffer from time to time to be happy...the tragic romantics..." (Pg.103) ~<p></p><p>My eldest son laughed when I read that statement and said, "Woah mom, it's true, In order to feel happy you often need to first suffer or be depressed. You do remind me a lot of those Romantics we studied in history. I think you often put melancholy on a pedestal in comparison to happiness...like you almost think fluffy happiness without depth is shallow pursuit. I don't think you mean to be snobby about it but it can come off that way." Ha...and yikes...and true.</p><p>~"Since FOURS as a rule direct their aggressions against themselves , it often happens that they are disgusted by themselves and their bodies. Although, they are generally slender and attractive, they tend to find themselves too fat and too ugly. They keep trying new diet plans..." (Pg. 105) ~</p><p>That song 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' can aptly explain how the paragraph above hit me. I thought it was just me being me, but yes I have a huge disgust with myself on a daily basis. Please note that this does not apply to other people nor do I think that certain features or weights make OTHER people less or more attractive. I actually only have this attribute, as only a four can have, fully reserved FOR MYSELF. With that out of the way, I have gone on pretty much every diet plan that is out there at some point and I still struggle with my weight due to autoimmune conditions. I secretly believe I was given an aversion to medical practices and surgeries and throwing up for a reason. It is no secret that I loathe hospitals and have Emetophobia...but if I didn't- I know I would have been Bulimic, Anorexic and already had a few cosmetic procedures (which are sometimes necessary or done from a balanced place but mine would have been from broken ness and personal disgust with myself which is not a good place to begin.) I am often the most broken inside over this disgust that I regularly have to work on. My husband says I see myself from a warped perspective. </p><p>I often take pictures of myself to try to see what others will see and celebrate the beauty that can be...but then I get upset that I can not live up to the pictures I like of myself (for instance I love the picture below but often I do not look like that! I like that it shows the many grays I constantly re dye - I actually love them but I crave playing with colour. ) But even living up to some of my past images, can plunge me into despair. I'm still learning to love my outside self. I can literally hide out in my room for days if I feel this loathing triggered by pants that are too tight or new frown lines. This is a deep wound I am constantly working on in my persona. I do it a little less than I used to with wisdom and maturity, but it still seems to be my personal thorn in my flesh. I mostly direct aggressions against myself. </p><p>~ "Normal" quiet happiness, of the sort others- apparently- enjoy, seems to a FOUR at once attractive and repellent, for that could mean the end of the sweet wistfulness that FOURS need to feel 'themselves.' The inner richness of melancholy seems to be more attractive than what others carelessly call 'happiness." (Pg. 105) ~</p><p>Paradoxes. How can someone be both strongly attracted and strongly repelled by happiness? It's there, always pulling me two ways.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqXdXGmJjQD2B-UQilbmphJOU1oPqLsVhJr0fH4VVfNlrU3gtIkSrakbHjZp2HVv1ZH4uke4tEg1AGAIf7Z6wX3RTgN9BNhk9u9YT0KwaE0HVt0APdUkjM3zQVpixus7Jc8g4RMR9qfu0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="643" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqXdXGmJjQD2B-UQilbmphJOU1oPqLsVhJr0fH4VVfNlrU3gtIkSrakbHjZp2HVv1ZH4uke4tEg1AGAIf7Z6wX3RTgN9BNhk9u9YT0KwaE0HVt0APdUkjM3zQVpixus7Jc8g4RMR9qfu0/w400-h366/IMG_7646.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />~ "Many FOURS vacillate between phases of exaggerated activity and others in which they are withdrawn and quasi paralyzed. This manic depressive structure can in some people who are highly introverted (stronger influence of the FIVE wing) turn into an altogether depressive structure. Fours whose more success- oriented, extroverted 3 wing is dominant are by contrast often hyperactive. These 2 subtypes of FOUR do not look very similar at first glance." (Pg 106) ~<p></p><p>I think this part is better explained by Beatrice Chestnut in her section on Enneagram wings. I think this happens because FOURS have the go getter THREE wing and the introspective, ever researching, FIVE wing. If one is tapped into more than the other, the statement above can be true. A couple years ago I was heavily into my FIVE wing, to the point I almost felt more of a FIVE. It was unhealthy for me and caused much stress and depression. When I recognized this in Chestnut's book I began to lean into mysticism as the tonic for my soul, and also to honour my THREE a bit more without swinging heavily into it. After much soul work, I re took the test two weeks ago, and my score said that my wings were perfectly balanced. I could feel that difference.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gfb9FVbMObdahWBOCE6nbBPMg84XnSmp7B2aJixgT95wH_4j5wibAVHC8x6FXXjLzKfa_oRisZcZFWUG9CrI-8AGR4bNmwfY6NeRTB4l-lyKx39bmuz08B1no8VApZbcwTmcBNdeGlJt/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gfb9FVbMObdahWBOCE6nbBPMg84XnSmp7B2aJixgT95wH_4j5wibAVHC8x6FXXjLzKfa_oRisZcZFWUG9CrI-8AGR4bNmwfY6NeRTB4l-lyKx39bmuz08B1no8VApZbcwTmcBNdeGlJt/w400-h300/IMG_7648.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />~"Many FOURS take their feelings very seriously and are deeply offended when they are hurt. Criticism of their artistic expressions can wound them in their innermost selves and drive them into retreat..." (Pg. 106) ~<p></p><p>Yes, my feelings are part of my intuitive BEING. Thus, if someone discounts them, I can be set off immediately. I do struggle, because of my self rejection, with additional criticism, especially in the area of my expression. Aspects of the later seasons of the show 'Glee' (certain songs or phrases from season 3 onward ) feel like an inner artistic expression of my soul, thus it is the one show I can not discuss reasonably with other people. I ask them not to tell me their assessment of it. Assess anything else, but don't tell me you hate it, especially if you never watched later seasons or know my personal context. Just let it be. </p><p>I have retreated at times, from friends who refuse to ever read my blog or blatantly unsubscribe. (This is different if random people unsubscribe or those who are not really friend level...although I still have to go through my self rejection issues in those cases.) I don't mind if friends delete, ignore or do not check in much but if they are my friend, I DO care that they just accept the parts or expressions of me that ARE a part of me. They are allowed to disagree, discuss, challenge kindly or ignore, but to go out of their way to tell me they are not reading me? To me, that is cruelty in it's finest form, because it is an artistic expression of self. Yes, I work on this and try to answer back kindly and compassionately even if I feel anything but...yet, I will withdraw after...that is guaranteed.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNPDyNBtMMab2kFKsWgYSNDw__mRc-fZUcJXZOOS2UZZH2IwWy0v8zzI2KEISEmM7hDDq2xcFS0B-YXBguVLByOM_07FfO3zvD69I-jA85ldy8EG8JzAH69f9E3m60tYdtaB0ahSOOCat/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNPDyNBtMMab2kFKsWgYSNDw__mRc-fZUcJXZOOS2UZZH2IwWy0v8zzI2KEISEmM7hDDq2xcFS0B-YXBguVLByOM_07FfO3zvD69I-jA85ldy8EG8JzAH69f9E3m60tYdtaB0ahSOOCat/w300-h400/IMG_7809.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />~"The gift, or fruit of the spirit, of redeemed FOURS is balance. At twenty-five, FOURS have already lived through all emotional space and experiences from agony to ecstasy. They know all the nuances of feeling and understand the human soul better than anyone else. If they muster the discipline to bring their emotional life into balance, they can become impressive personalities." (Pg. 107) ~<p></p><p>My first blog was called Acquiring Balance. For some types, balance is a dirty word. In fact, for some people, striving for balance can make them unhealthy. But for a FOUR, it is redemption. It is true, that I knew I had experienced the full range of agony to ecstasy before I was 25 years old. I do believe I understand the human soul better than most. Yet, disciplining my emotions into balance, has been my main aspect of therapy for the last 16 years. My paternal Grandma recently remarked, "If you've been having therapy that many years maybe it's not working." I laughed and said, "Grandma, in some cases that is true, but in my case, being a paradox and Autistic person in a mostly non Autistic world, I need a listening ear for my sanity. I need to be able to speak conflicting truths in a safe place. I need to be able to work on myself with support."</p><p>~"Healthy FOURS are capable of a depth of feeling that most of us have no access to. If they can make this genuine emotionality fruitful, they can express in concentrated fashion their sense of the beautiful and the really painful, then the real works of art will be created." (Pg. 107) ~</p><p>Taylor Swift is a great example of a FOUR whom does this.</p><p>~ "Redeemed FOURS are better than most others at understanding the guiding people in psychic distress. They are not intimidated by the difficult, complicated, or dark feelings of others, since they themselves have lived through it all." (Pg. 108) ~</p><p>Recently, my nephew was watching Disney's Raya (spoiler ahead.) When the families were united at the end, a tear slipped down his face, and his five year old self asked sweetly, "Can we rewind the part when they see their families again?" When he re watched, he sighed and snuggled into his father's shoulder. </p><p>I felt those moments at age five too. I still feel them. Most children would not ask to rewind that part. I also feel that this shows the consequences of some of our protocols in society right now (due to Covid) and how FOURS can show on the outside, what serious consequences can be happening, unnoticed, on the inside, to many people who are in forced or chosen isolation. </p><p>FOURS are not scared of difficult, complicated or dark feelings in themselves or other people. We have lived most of it, in either imagination or deep feeling. We do not judge the feelings but we do assess them and try to heal the world through that awareness. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFgvSkYMCan_KJE3TFsfpy_RVmbe4FooMoxaBOXmq_RxG8o9dYvMxkoOiBvqgpibJxGv4dR_alppOU6jzGWRMXnhGtuIg4jxcdtPXMJd3b4UIuZt0-_SydhdV-LIvQxF1llyRSE_QCtcI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFgvSkYMCan_KJE3TFsfpy_RVmbe4FooMoxaBOXmq_RxG8o9dYvMxkoOiBvqgpibJxGv4dR_alppOU6jzGWRMXnhGtuIg4jxcdtPXMJd3b4UIuZt0-_SydhdV-LIvQxF1llyRSE_QCtcI/w300-h400/IMG_7806.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br />~"The invitation to redemption issued to FOURS is the call to originality. Fours find their naturalness on the way to union with God. Their striving for authenticity, their love for children and nature are early hints of this goal in life. If they can admit that they live "in God" and God "in them", their soul will come to the rest and balance they have long yearned for." (Pg. 111) ~ <p></p><p>Originality is quite important to me. So is the concept of Deity, even though my integration of that in my spiritual life looks like an eclectic mix to most people, it has both standard and mystical observations and is both based in facts and the ineffable. There were a couple years in our twenties when my husband was more of a proclaimed Atheist. I respected it, but the farthest I got was Agnostic. For my sanity, I could just not fully discourse with the mystical. Now, my beliefs have become more solid for myself, but I do not like to proclaim them or put them in a structured box. Yet, I do admit, that my type needs to dwell in possibility. I believe Deity IS possibility. When I say 'love' or 'beauty' in conversation, I am not defining it by the world's definitions. I am defining it by a FOUR which is a deep feeling of SOUL and balance of BEING. It's GOD in a way I can not explain. I do not know how to explain it beyond this in words...I can only FEEL it.</p><p>~"Fours must find their energy without constantly slipping from one extreme into the other, without being up one minute and down the next. It must not always be euphoria or depression. Their 'objective observer' has the job of asking: "Isn't a little joy and a little sadness enough- at least now and then?" ~</p><p>In my twenties I was either euphoric or depressed. Now that I tend to have more balance, sometimes I will admit to missing those extremes. Life feels a bit less muchier sometimes. On the flip side, people like me more, but do I like myself as much? Yes and no. I believe a little joy and sadness, every now and then IS enough...however, I also think FOURS need to take a lesson from someone who worked so hard on that aspect that a little became "regular" and "ordinary." I am now working on allowing myself the extreme moments of depression and euphoria once again too, because it IS a part of me. I squelched it completely on my road to balance, which was needed at the time, but notice how the statement above says, "At least now and then"? That is the key...NOW and THEN. It's also ok to have the innate in- born persona. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ks-NJce9PdFQ-W6VGdtGUbe7Dsdty5vurn9vM7PdwRuMEgwB9HnJY-gWKYwHPQ7lH4R9vvIj7WHKtAt4t2wT-Q09rgIA0rQobBArI76nDcyHcaufsOyffNGxLbdwqikuXpVG8mx9Vxxy/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1708" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Ks-NJce9PdFQ-W6VGdtGUbe7Dsdty5vurn9vM7PdwRuMEgwB9HnJY-gWKYwHPQ7lH4R9vvIj7WHKtAt4t2wT-Q09rgIA0rQobBArI76nDcyHcaufsOyffNGxLbdwqikuXpVG8mx9Vxxy/w333-h400/IMG_7428.jpeg" width="333" /></a></div><br />~..."For this reason social commitment and working for peace and justice do FOURS good. In this they have to deal with the dirt of the world, which cannot be aesthetically transfigured....they have to admit the rage they feel against the person in question, and they have to stop adulating him or her in the wake of that loss." (pg.111) ~<p></p><p>I tend to praise my friends and husband in my rage as my first response. I give them the benefit of the doubt immediately. On the heals of my anger, a swift perspectives process takes place, that leaves me defending their side and contexts in my head. While this is lovely to create harmony and forgiveness in quick process, there is a darker side. I can re visit my rage again and again and distance myself because I do not want to feel the rage when I have already reasoned out their perfectly understood stances. But, my feelings matter too, even if I DO understand. I actually have to stop my tendency to put their feelings on a pedestal but contain my own. It is actually quite easy for me to move on, once I voice, in blog/ person/ writing my rage to a degree or tell the person, "Actually I am angry at you because of this ...but I also understand where you are coming from...however, I FEEL hurt and upset...." If I am not able to have a conversation with someone in this way, it is much harder for me to re figure the situation. I can eventually, but the re visits of rage turn into a sense of injustice of not being understood in turn. I need to work for justice and peace in myself first, before I can manifest out into the world. </p><p>I have to admit that sometimes beauty can not fix all problems. Not all people FEEL harmony on levels that give them the ability to forgive swiftly, understand another's issues even if they do not share the same ideals, or validate all range of emotions. As a four, sometimes I assume that everyone works this way and wonder why can't they just tap into that feeling of intuition to find truth and justice? It's an awareness I am developing.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyGWyh1S_sqZqxUbNlUe4jJHNxNcYAwNK7IhY2ozHqovqmzZ5hKDsjVU9so1QoEsmJx0i_vziSMzzJcE79gYjvFTudMf4bhSxpORfgeuipoP9TTotN3W8MMdd6WS80n4h1_SpN6deeYy0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyGWyh1S_sqZqxUbNlUe4jJHNxNcYAwNK7IhY2ozHqovqmzZ5hKDsjVU9so1QoEsmJx0i_vziSMzzJcE79gYjvFTudMf4bhSxpORfgeuipoP9TTotN3W8MMdd6WS80n4h1_SpN6deeYy0/w400-h400/F6899D09-08D0-40E5-B358-AB54305E1191.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />To my fellow Fours; It's ok to find your emotional voice. Try to also balance out being a caretaker in the world, within your voice. When we harness our inner Sun (by that I mean, our inner warmth centres of life giving freedom of choice and belonging and belief) we can bring meaning and substance, along with goodness to be a Divine catalyst for others. When we no longer give our power of choice away to institutions or governments, we find our warmth of hearth and healing while still striving to be the best citizens we can be. Forgiveness and letting go of heaviness and long standing hurts (or at least acknowledging rage that cycles back), brings feeling of lightness to the heart. This in turn creates empowered choice. Choice ultimately leads to peace. <p></p><p>Ask yourself, "What makes you feel free TODAY?" Different days will have different freedom answers. Do you follow that feeling and build solid choices based on that feeling? Do you light pathways for others to contemplate and find their own freedom? FOURS get a lot of flack and misunderstanding in Enneagram circles. Know that if you are a FOUR, you have the potential to create. You are part of a group of inspirers, artists, and feelers who have the capability, when healthy, to lead, and change the parts of the world and communities that others are lucky enough to be in with you. There is a lot of soul work to be done of course, but as in any type, you have the capability within you to SEE yourself and activate upon awareness. You are as important as the other 8 types. You are part of a whole. Let the birds sing for you, let the sweetness of your feelings inspire, allow your rage to activate justice (even for yourself), dream under the stars without guilt, laugh with gusty abandon when you feel it despite others not "getting it", explore those 'sapphire skies' and do not discount the beautiful aspects of your own wonderlandy muchness. You are a person who can feel the adventures of feeling in melodies built into your own backyard...you encompass twilight and sunrise in feeling on subtle breezes. At times life can FEEL so stunning with the simplest aspects. You have the capability to make others FEEL. Isn't that an emerald gift of homecoming?</p><p>~"One of the most important lessons many of us need to learn in this lifetime is that we are none of us an island: we thrive on profound and heartfelt relationships with others. When we experience conflict with someone we love, working through the pain, discord, and heartaches to find an even deeper level of connection helps us evolve spiritually and brings comfort, strength and wisdom like nothing else can. Similarly, when we continually work through our own fears and block around relationships in order to open up to others with true authenticity and vulnerability, we experience ever increasing levels of joy and personal expansion."- Tess Whitehurst ~<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1kXqD-MQFU6STmF_FMz09U_0nahwpFTznGTmVTBQbD4KTL1yxt8fOEmJ8WuMV1RnNUKt4I_R_eRemnlEsWeyTwB991g6lPjmCW39sXF-9NuG2ynUWsGnplyRGpWeavK8b_64lFGm_Xej/s161/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1kXqD-MQFU6STmF_FMz09U_0nahwpFTznGTmVTBQbD4KTL1yxt8fOEmJ8WuMV1RnNUKt4I_R_eRemnlEsWeyTwB991g6lPjmCW39sXF-9NuG2ynUWsGnplyRGpWeavK8b_64lFGm_Xej/s0/image.png" /></a></div><br /><p>Song Choice: There are SO MANY songs for a FOUR type. Can I claim them all? Seriously... Instead of the many, MANY songs I could add here on an Enneagram FOUR, I am going to put a song that has helped me tap into my Wonderlandy ways the last couple years. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NN6J-aYI0d4" target="_blank">Welcome to Wonderland- Anson Seabra </a> I FEEL this song. I FEEL it is my home. From his lyrics, I feel he could be a FOUR. His song "Broken" is definitely when FOURS are in melancholy and the internal self loathing, feeling struggle. His whole album of songs he wrote in his room <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-L3yLMWpaKA" target="_blank">(FOUND HERE) </a>encompass the FOUR in unbalance , in certain wings and sometimes in full health . A couple of the songs are rated explicit but some of them are clean versions...and many of them show the unbalanced four who wallows in melancholy but a few of his happier ones are more of a four in savouring nature (Dawning of Spring/ Emerald Eyes/ welcome to Wonderland/ Trying My Best/ Don’t forget to Breathe)</p><p>*For more, my husband and I do marital and single personality coaching. Please email worldwecreate@gmail.com for more. Thanks.*</p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NN6J-aYI0d4" width="560"></iframe></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-87115374105926438222021-01-25T14:59:00.012-08:002022-10-07T09:09:38.178-07:00Ignoring The Critics, TO BE and a Picture Update<p> "Every human soul craves "the good, the true, and the beautiful" absolutely and without limit. And it is precisely about these three fundamental values that the gap is the widest. Ordinary people still believe in a real morality, a real difference between good and evil; and in objective truth and the possibility of knowing it; and the superiority of beauty over ugliness. But our educators or "experts" feel toward these three traditional values, the way people think medieval inquisitors felt towards witches. Our artists deliberately prefer ugliness to beauty, our moralists fear goodness more than evil, and our philosophers embrace various forms of post modernism that reduce truth to ideology or power." -Peter Kreeft</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeSNZoUIuvYVnZBfH7x-m6qFN93luuamC5hjv2oQ8DkPHHUZTQhPncmpvUOlNkih7hXn72RaOrOYKoeowtc5U_alrk_oAUZbRUUzjUd804KQfY7e5jCfGjvh7hEerKjYRT-lw46kqxWIC/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c311.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgeSNZoUIuvYVnZBfH7x-m6qFN93luuamC5hjv2oQ8DkPHHUZTQhPncmpvUOlNkih7hXn72RaOrOYKoeowtc5U_alrk_oAUZbRUUzjUd804KQfY7e5jCfGjvh7hEerKjYRT-lw46kqxWIC/s320/fullsizeoutput_c311.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5HlbT-lrTW3rR481sqMqg-zMRuIPDeidsxCuNlIiH7eC1zCYyDT6CaXwSsnA4xn7eGYhM6UFp_G355ZXzUUcak5a10cPC8fMAAY1dyuf4HYaZPFmJJzzz6K8OaEu7zhfXj_Oe2EOuRM3/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c45a.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig5HlbT-lrTW3rR481sqMqg-zMRuIPDeidsxCuNlIiH7eC1zCYyDT6CaXwSsnA4xn7eGYhM6UFp_G355ZXzUUcak5a10cPC8fMAAY1dyuf4HYaZPFmJJzzz6K8OaEu7zhfXj_Oe2EOuRM3/s320/fullsizeoutput_c45a.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><p>The current "experts" in society are being listened to far more than they should. Instead of just BEING, many people are caught up in posting, demanding, disputing, obeying, subjecting and objectifying and 'doing' as a means of 'validating'...Instead of "doing" as a means of "being" which is completely different.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAtV9M2WRf8uITERb5OBsbO5-uui3HL6CzWCESGnNrBsbTt0xC6l4ymMMwPrBNnRG7jZuVq1ZrMoZsY6yCVZ9Y0S_b0xUQHjxsApfhVVNmdtj2rvtLEVxQSKyfxQrcS88PY94pYrfeY489/s2048/fullsizeoutput_be2c.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAtV9M2WRf8uITERb5OBsbO5-uui3HL6CzWCESGnNrBsbTt0xC6l4ymMMwPrBNnRG7jZuVq1ZrMoZsY6yCVZ9Y0S_b0xUQHjxsApfhVVNmdtj2rvtLEVxQSKyfxQrcS88PY94pYrfeY489/s320/fullsizeoutput_be2c.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQbK3rBqrK9tgjdyER28un8oW5JV5PBSsirDZhvaAVW1Z139iFdOz-HW3npjOK-S3uLidlykud3mWn-u4Ixym4jFScVmBo7YtjfR4mWj-dhJArs8pVGzcxtUFJyUX5XjjkOuOH3OmyF_z/s1440/A37F4B7A-9846-4911-9772-9FAC6227F708.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQbK3rBqrK9tgjdyER28un8oW5JV5PBSsirDZhvaAVW1Z139iFdOz-HW3npjOK-S3uLidlykud3mWn-u4Ixym4jFScVmBo7YtjfR4mWj-dhJArs8pVGzcxtUFJyUX5XjjkOuOH3OmyF_z/s320/A37F4B7A-9846-4911-9772-9FAC6227F708.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTU1CoWA9oHMPnlpWRtllEIgLWZf_VSGbeoUt5Uu3Yw4gTeH7dLmZxqJAXNYhLDmFzyTuGQYFfJF2kcTvf67tYXvNfMhY6BRWB9uNnlw0FTg1uA4uJfQEyETj15fEroGOzesIK39Hb-0N/s2048/IMG_6791.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTU1CoWA9oHMPnlpWRtllEIgLWZf_VSGbeoUt5Uu3Yw4gTeH7dLmZxqJAXNYhLDmFzyTuGQYFfJF2kcTvf67tYXvNfMhY6BRWB9uNnlw0FTg1uA4uJfQEyETj15fEroGOzesIK39Hb-0N/s320/IMG_6791.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><p></p><p>To BE is to encompass your I AM. To Be is to encompass each moment that one is inside of. It is to savour the chore, the leisure, the show, the music, the book, the writing, the creating or creation, or the conversation. To BE is to authentically create life's moments in full honesty. Without falling into the trap of dissection, deconstruction, reduction or power plays.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKfXIt_Vp9sT3z03FhM_T4DbDHm6Cx8mHx4R4vWk7Ge6kWMWzLeZJQ19-o40CCLCFcwpE4UreQdpHMkSbIRiGDZb-o5NwHb9-RyfOddOYXXCtZ6zKDrYCMBHQCcc5IzoEs-OyJggNCJcc/s2048/fullsizeoutput_be49.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKfXIt_Vp9sT3z03FhM_T4DbDHm6Cx8mHx4R4vWk7Ge6kWMWzLeZJQ19-o40CCLCFcwpE4UreQdpHMkSbIRiGDZb-o5NwHb9-RyfOddOYXXCtZ6zKDrYCMBHQCcc5IzoEs-OyJggNCJcc/s320/fullsizeoutput_be49.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvh8A7nR8rfr9gZPqo3Q0TG6WkClbpcpW2abFHjbSvMFnCYwy1FQDP9y5Gpv1wJG21Hn7YKq0fLzFmFmkjFRbyIzh2mbL9OJqXHhsMAdIQaRw88oVQnBIdkYrLHwPvn08m0S5BB74ZhrM/s2048/IMG_5500.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuvh8A7nR8rfr9gZPqo3Q0TG6WkClbpcpW2abFHjbSvMFnCYwy1FQDP9y5Gpv1wJG21Hn7YKq0fLzFmFmkjFRbyIzh2mbL9OJqXHhsMAdIQaRw88oVQnBIdkYrLHwPvn08m0S5BB74ZhrM/s320/IMG_5500.JPG" /></a></div><br /><p>"So it is no surprise that in a culture in which philosophers scorn wisdom, moralists scorn morality, preachers are the world's greatest hypocrites, sociologists are the only people in the world who do not know what a good society is, psychologists have the most mixed up psyches, professional artists are the only ones in the world who actually have beauty...it is no surprise that in this culture the literary critics are the last people to know a good book when they see one."- Peter Kreeft</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAD4MMksiE1xZtDaYiBBme969xe3QFlCIOoqqXVYrxdSg1Hh0_zqK8wXXNChMnygfJNVzbgBLqskOcZ_NHFH7EJxS1QbVO2auwXnS_3njXoNrRiIrsuXlgt8hb-5oMn9dvgWBmU7v3ufU/s2048/IMG_6803.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAD4MMksiE1xZtDaYiBBme969xe3QFlCIOoqqXVYrxdSg1Hh0_zqK8wXXNChMnygfJNVzbgBLqskOcZ_NHFH7EJxS1QbVO2auwXnS_3njXoNrRiIrsuXlgt8hb-5oMn9dvgWBmU7v3ufU/s320/IMG_6803.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZOQpnJIUcDUv9J-e8yMkzyPEg85E6JohUv65y3hi2ULjY3kt7djo76A2RkZlcSCe_DLcMiIHDkoj6GWYuZ_PNVoI28aV7yhcpV1OB6hjqHJqMVZZMFuh_zBU6VpRHwzAiiGhJmGgJ-3Tp/s2048/IMG_6853.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZOQpnJIUcDUv9J-e8yMkzyPEg85E6JohUv65y3hi2ULjY3kt7djo76A2RkZlcSCe_DLcMiIHDkoj6GWYuZ_PNVoI28aV7yhcpV1OB6hjqHJqMVZZMFuh_zBU6VpRHwzAiiGhJmGgJ-3Tp/s320/IMG_6853.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJIHYMQsSZSff_bQ6u0TN2EmwMIVagbn-JR6PbkUylfuY8BZWWaN70xlJCJFuDdNTLk853HIPf7fBj4iKI-k2MIC9Or1SCE0wASBnMXs24o9NBf7KP5k8YrJnzSwxubBsQEj5sqOTaLGK/s1280/IMG_6861.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJIHYMQsSZSff_bQ6u0TN2EmwMIVagbn-JR6PbkUylfuY8BZWWaN70xlJCJFuDdNTLk853HIPf7fBj4iKI-k2MIC9Or1SCE0wASBnMXs24o9NBf7KP5k8YrJnzSwxubBsQEj5sqOTaLGK/s320/IMG_6861.JPG" /></a><br /><br /></div><br />How often do you listen to the critics in your circles and pick books, films or music according to their influence instead of your soul's? It is one thing to listen to the counsel of a treasured, trusted friend recommendation, but it is completely another to judge based on what SHOULD be. I found this was especially poignant on social media. I loved some of the connections I made there, but I can say, without a doubt, that my life has opened up in terms of time, authenticity and BEING since I have been off. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGnLKo_p27o2SDxZLaij0sAlzb2xkvw5MbxgUQnK4N637ddoZQ0a1H8569mzpnwCTGJn19gwu3cJ_fK94tyIYD7qx25FOm1D6Na180ig-Cgnn1FThB8idkbN6HOhNDeTHmi7ise1YLYI-/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c2ee.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGnLKo_p27o2SDxZLaij0sAlzb2xkvw5MbxgUQnK4N637ddoZQ0a1H8569mzpnwCTGJn19gwu3cJ_fK94tyIYD7qx25FOm1D6Na180ig-Cgnn1FThB8idkbN6HOhNDeTHmi7ise1YLYI-/s320/fullsizeoutput_c2ee.jpeg" /></a></div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I have stepped off of all news, reading the latest protocols or stats on Covid, or any other world news.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Occasionally, through natural conversations, I have heard whispers of hot topics, but in those circumstances it is less stressful and more of a discussion involving multiple perspectives and free will. I am not the type of person who believes a new leader or new year will bring only good...or to put my hope in such things out of my control. While I can hope that leaders become aspects of the beauty of the human spirit, I do not put my only hope in that. Instead I hope in the mystical realm where hope is born. I hope in the daily deeds. I hope for the future by BEING in the present. It isn't always easy but it does bring much more peace. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTliHi2Ku3b3EWVRAqloVy6ljXkNGcsYPC7kID2DNimpNZVAo-sL6-JOQbLBXCExrNhgIY-MdyKvhW8veY6whG7fEmcH8L2XVc7990s67eyJVXTpbVpLNV7_ZkjnMF-65ctYofjHM_AKG/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c2fb.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTliHi2Ku3b3EWVRAqloVy6ljXkNGcsYPC7kID2DNimpNZVAo-sL6-JOQbLBXCExrNhgIY-MdyKvhW8veY6whG7fEmcH8L2XVc7990s67eyJVXTpbVpLNV7_ZkjnMF-65ctYofjHM_AKG/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c2fb.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzem2hobIrgSoZiezapxdecI5ocW4kits0FVtS5djaD_3f4qtWYxraH5VZCnPRnTs_JIMM3EXj8ntI4im2tGghJLxHc89mXyZFSqT93BJSvLtKLJuvkxJtTj_hI1ZXUPfJH-HedLBQRXl/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c2f7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzem2hobIrgSoZiezapxdecI5ocW4kits0FVtS5djaD_3f4qtWYxraH5VZCnPRnTs_JIMM3EXj8ntI4im2tGghJLxHc89mXyZFSqT93BJSvLtKLJuvkxJtTj_hI1ZXUPfJH-HedLBQRXl/s320/fullsizeoutput_c2f7.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkXej5tl7TqC2fQdAd0kHXLxPOZGcdExSi581OABgX3n7qAXaFNZZAE0DOxYQGOho2UBiyv2VpbIVcPlAbHuaBSPy7j4GEv-9FvMrWqE5As5k1Y6RyaoImR4sqw0tf_Kai8CT7KWvZY7D/s4032/fullsizeoutput_bebb.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkXej5tl7TqC2fQdAd0kHXLxPOZGcdExSi581OABgX3n7qAXaFNZZAE0DOxYQGOho2UBiyv2VpbIVcPlAbHuaBSPy7j4GEv-9FvMrWqE5As5k1Y6RyaoImR4sqw0tf_Kai8CT7KWvZY7D/s320/fullsizeoutput_bebb.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-xJ5umCMspu3zoJftDha0UT5WE0I7Pt01dyOw0kG2-ajgsasRBtTuLwXECx0Wcudjuvt3rPFxmnhVsuavSn3nRzND18hCc3sw_n1mK2xKjLsqEL0hSIRLiMWUpBwezRoWjtITMnHqn4T/s4032/fullsizeoutput_bec9.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH-xJ5umCMspu3zoJftDha0UT5WE0I7Pt01dyOw0kG2-ajgsasRBtTuLwXECx0Wcudjuvt3rPFxmnhVsuavSn3nRzND18hCc3sw_n1mK2xKjLsqEL0hSIRLiMWUpBwezRoWjtITMnHqn4T/s320/fullsizeoutput_bec9.jpeg" /></a></div></div><p>"So, what should we do about it? Just ignore them. That will do more to save civilization than anything else you can possibly do ( except becoming a saint.) It will also make them very angry, for like teenagers, the critics' greatest joy is to be shocking, and their greatest fear is to be ignored."- Peter Kreeft </p><p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZw5b6gbpkrhOsPnEk5UpRcQhWuF75YJeEti-mr9s5AlyWGjm_60AZXXNfOdj0_tX29zKnnIRAGHlRXKnQISahV7HlfuceYgVh4yQPAu0xsCajFisi-qcniqNaS_2Hdga-aIzwQpvp6ge/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c4a1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZw5b6gbpkrhOsPnEk5UpRcQhWuF75YJeEti-mr9s5AlyWGjm_60AZXXNfOdj0_tX29zKnnIRAGHlRXKnQISahV7HlfuceYgVh4yQPAu0xsCajFisi-qcniqNaS_2Hdga-aIzwQpvp6ge/s320/fullsizeoutput_c4a1.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQWJvr8PyOD_ocIayv1rcGLyC8zCaH-TSHe-mcXJ__9RrISoHZr8I275CJtmx0bzHRW4hbEAR3wMITypv_dO4nKMYQms9uizMN5Fe5DwcvtW7QL5ot469-lgfD_EpnRATKJCQCl28rqka/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c4a5.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQWJvr8PyOD_ocIayv1rcGLyC8zCaH-TSHe-mcXJ__9RrISoHZr8I275CJtmx0bzHRW4hbEAR3wMITypv_dO4nKMYQms9uizMN5Fe5DwcvtW7QL5ot469-lgfD_EpnRATKJCQCl28rqka/s320/fullsizeoutput_c4a5.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>When you ignore the critics (and currently that includes all news feeds and current trends of "awareness") you enter into your own soul. While it is necessary to have other human beings in our process, those BEINGS should have some form of honest connection. In other words, they should be people who know of us enough to challenge, inspire, encourage, and give tailored information based on a mutual relationship.</p><p>Most people do not get my obsession with good witches or witchiness. Yet, it is a part of my soul so witchiness is in our home. Oddly enough, the people who enter our home, even of traditional christian values, still more often than not, come back. The vibes of the home and ourselves overrule their uncomfortability with any obvious symbols in our home. I believe Timothy 4:4 “ For everything God created is good and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving.” I believe God redeems and I only strive to look to the good . The people who are scared of that fact, perhaps need to be somewhere else anyway and that’s ok as we all need to protect what is true and noble for ourselves… </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE16bMzcF9Ud69NwamTzeOTeJE4pRyFEu3Emdyf1E7I84UdoxFjR1f4Qqvs8PbxRxI6wBL5KatmgKyM0muSXN2hodnniQdzdi9xDZE0q9X6NdC4fxUOm2h8XNxmlKEc_J8HNI9zcyfCjT6/s1280/fullsizeoutput_be95.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE16bMzcF9Ud69NwamTzeOTeJE4pRyFEu3Emdyf1E7I84UdoxFjR1f4Qqvs8PbxRxI6wBL5KatmgKyM0muSXN2hodnniQdzdi9xDZE0q9X6NdC4fxUOm2h8XNxmlKEc_J8HNI9zcyfCjT6/s320/fullsizeoutput_be95.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80iXtUYlXGIw4TKLGAUDG814hPjCvHa4ihg6pxb_SdH-eAM_cdO3s3jYS_5pxIqe-nKpvGpQOgYszIVdktfce5JMv6cMit1mJV9nP6yVS5XhC72PqqwJUe0nJLawXrBbbDCI8Xdct5vdb/s1280/IMG_5883.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80iXtUYlXGIw4TKLGAUDG814hPjCvHa4ihg6pxb_SdH-eAM_cdO3s3jYS_5pxIqe-nKpvGpQOgYszIVdktfce5JMv6cMit1mJV9nP6yVS5XhC72PqqwJUe0nJLawXrBbbDCI8Xdct5vdb/s320/IMG_5883.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYd0WuWdyTip4NoXtvKT2nEzjFbwA7oLadxjwcYPQlKaZ240UTNnEhAvWQyOEhDMAwxPssjOrqcht5xOzWWWGIq1j1nuJU5_SeBvLKoe4_P8khTO2TAC3x2lmzVRht1UMUrE0Q0epmEeEu/s2048/fullsizeoutput_bea0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYd0WuWdyTip4NoXtvKT2nEzjFbwA7oLadxjwcYPQlKaZ240UTNnEhAvWQyOEhDMAwxPssjOrqcht5xOzWWWGIq1j1nuJU5_SeBvLKoe4_P8khTO2TAC3x2lmzVRht1UMUrE0Q0epmEeEu/s320/fullsizeoutput_bea0.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiLPLbCXiJZDA624ZJwSBNgGqb_92dbdb-Jj_gxx6ku9ZYtlcC_XXwrbOqOH-32LdowTuRsDn6MYQyrbIcy3x45u-7El8uwxYlyoLz0MW0WK-XOvLmOYsdimlOT7At5B3dmCaF6buPKMy/s2048/IMG_7008.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiLPLbCXiJZDA624ZJwSBNgGqb_92dbdb-Jj_gxx6ku9ZYtlcC_XXwrbOqOH-32LdowTuRsDn6MYQyrbIcy3x45u-7El8uwxYlyoLz0MW0WK-XOvLmOYsdimlOT7At5B3dmCaF6buPKMy/s320/IMG_7008.JPG" /></a></div><br />There are individuals who need the general collective to tell them how to think or BE. That is sometimes a needed phase of life. However, if most of society is caught in that trap, we then lose our sense of beauty and our compass for true morality. I have been asked how we make our decisions in the current landscape of protocols, chaos and such. The answer is different in each situation. We try to morally balance what is asked of us in certain situations with the truth of our souls. We try to pair the health of the body with the health of the soul and mind (one should NOT have priority over the other, even in a health crisis. We MUST remember social, spiritual and mental health. While sometimes physical health must take priority, there are also cases where it is the reverse.) Thus again, each circumstance calls for a different respect of the rules of life. Some rules will be broken, while at other times made to honour- and often it is the SAME rule that is both honoured and broken depending on the circumstance.<p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV1qM1yM9hSiz6prm7kPRC-tXDbsMkXuhet7MA8nPUNWkojF6w9vNaRavQK1EVKqjwN1HLy_JHXPxlTfJ87GeEPAuILpIG5-vrwJDJRNCoVNxyKLAGaxeql46IiDQAIGslOkoruoXOsISg/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c4a7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV1qM1yM9hSiz6prm7kPRC-tXDbsMkXuhet7MA8nPUNWkojF6w9vNaRavQK1EVKqjwN1HLy_JHXPxlTfJ87GeEPAuILpIG5-vrwJDJRNCoVNxyKLAGaxeql46IiDQAIGslOkoruoXOsISg/s320/fullsizeoutput_c4a7.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN1TM9MMRSMM3P5EuWXL24Cqmu8RNoyqsJoyo4KUtAST5yghGhWqiAX-YSxadaI7vtgc8-d-WnsfT13k-WosoWwzcW-WNGHnaxQVwucaiH6-W1T21DoE2PtL-fgqlvO4NR89M1mCQuI4kc/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c4ac.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN1TM9MMRSMM3P5EuWXL24Cqmu8RNoyqsJoyo4KUtAST5yghGhWqiAX-YSxadaI7vtgc8-d-WnsfT13k-WosoWwzcW-WNGHnaxQVwucaiH6-W1T21DoE2PtL-fgqlvO4NR89M1mCQuI4kc/s320/fullsizeoutput_c4ac.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">To those that respond with, "Well isn't that a little dubious? To make the rules at will or according to your purpose?" My answer is both yes and no. IF you are a person who is in tune with WHERE you are planted and if you pay attention to the people directly of influence in your life...IF you listen to these people, if you seek out goodness over the bad of the world, and sit in the solitude of your own soul while also searching for a greater I AM beyond yourself yet also being in your own, smaller, I AM, then I have no doubt that much of your morality will be sound. You may make mistakes but that is what BEING human is. You may pay the consequences of breaking standardized rules but you may also reap the rewards. Seek out the good, pick company that fills, delights and challenges you ( and YES this is possible in these current times. There are many ways to BE in community.) </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapW0tyH8xrpIN-S7cHnBxWzYv3zvm69seSjebs78FyZgIgYyGIId6yPrWcdDrZmJ8nncXvjqZaw7kv77vM0Okn7nxkXfj7KGhkSyvF2M3zWjiGQHoVhNTUVteKP5hF1BhBUp9Pmq_rRHc/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c4b1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapW0tyH8xrpIN-S7cHnBxWzYv3zvm69seSjebs78FyZgIgYyGIId6yPrWcdDrZmJ8nncXvjqZaw7kv77vM0Okn7nxkXfj7KGhkSyvF2M3zWjiGQHoVhNTUVteKP5hF1BhBUp9Pmq_rRHc/s320/fullsizeoutput_c4b1.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA00NmEIlok0UhtzJk-GKhnx3-Gav4r8wm86gIYFXQReVqfP3bwt7S0SqmYoxrouRStT2kQKwwtl7vv5kb5R_NkOft2GvUHo3-Umn2pGIyzBOBSWk7_pIoE0_F7yHVrZ6vEdElhwB7E9eY/s2048/fullsizeoutput_beca.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA00NmEIlok0UhtzJk-GKhnx3-Gav4r8wm86gIYFXQReVqfP3bwt7S0SqmYoxrouRStT2kQKwwtl7vv5kb5R_NkOft2GvUHo3-Umn2pGIyzBOBSWk7_pIoE0_F7yHVrZ6vEdElhwB7E9eY/s320/fullsizeoutput_beca.jpeg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCapeGVP5fviJ1CL17Ds4svkmuOjwiHUhjBAlewpEWKjFp0TpRi0xQ8kuSrh179TKCRLYB158DPKBH3blNIrGukl3nEgHMI2hfCMwGEt5zEncrcjvY1JWx7rzk_P-5mreQ7WpXehH0K8Dl/s2048/fullsizeoutput_beda.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCapeGVP5fviJ1CL17Ds4svkmuOjwiHUhjBAlewpEWKjFp0TpRi0xQ8kuSrh179TKCRLYB158DPKBH3blNIrGukl3nEgHMI2hfCMwGEt5zEncrcjvY1JWx7rzk_P-5mreQ7WpXehH0K8Dl/s320/fullsizeoutput_beda.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLqZ6PgyUBweFgg8gwn8uGD5nr6uUu6IjNgt_0RR4aqxROBqlY0UXMJOO92a_S_oRr8r21eHl5LuDKWzlQjIoN8Z95MgJDNe1NfXanERyfqw5nPNBUFtzwzuUWuIl9hbZdYZ9y7e_mWuq/s2048/IMG_6116.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLqZ6PgyUBweFgg8gwn8uGD5nr6uUu6IjNgt_0RR4aqxROBqlY0UXMJOO92a_S_oRr8r21eHl5LuDKWzlQjIoN8Z95MgJDNe1NfXanERyfqw5nPNBUFtzwzuUWuIl9hbZdYZ9y7e_mWuq/s320/IMG_6116.JPG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Currently, most people's greatest fear IS to be ignored. Just look to social media, news feeds, or the latest political topics for proof. Everyone wants to KNOW. They crave being "in the know" and up on the latest ways to "make an impact." They worry if they don't read the news, they will be viewed as ignorant or un- educated. But are those two aspects of BEING human parts that give the most satisfaction? If one is living in nature and happily in their day to day is that type of ignorance such a bad attribute? They believe if they post enough pictures they will be remembered or thought of fondly. While pictures are beautiful mirrors of BEING and great for memory triggers of those whom were in the moment, we do not remember others pictures as we do our own. Are we living in fear, thinking we are living empowered?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnL5drG66dQgxkPnPXNJ4LFWRuJWMPj7KUzhPzVQdkEnFbY-HmnwPGDQzQ6ejp6-EdnkXu6h543G-ii4ugMIVsCp0FSd1QGuN71TvQTHyC7EHRitoxFEBB-rcpkB6JjDb-yX_yYkk9UeR/s2048/IMG_6864.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgnL5drG66dQgxkPnPXNJ4LFWRuJWMPj7KUzhPzVQdkEnFbY-HmnwPGDQzQ6ejp6-EdnkXu6h543G-ii4ugMIVsCp0FSd1QGuN71TvQTHyC7EHRitoxFEBB-rcpkB6JjDb-yX_yYkk9UeR/s320/IMG_6864.JPG" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Fellowship is just as important as the singular. The soul is a sole journeyer but it can also be entwined with another. We need both. It is crucial to health and BEING that we honour both in some safe way. The more we completely isolate or allow ourselves to be swayed by the critics, the less of life we will have. IGNORE the news. Ignore the critics. Ignore the rules that do not apply to your surroundings. If you find yourself in a place where the case count is so low locally and everyone you know is healthy, washing hands and BEING- Are you going to continue to be in your own home alone completely? Face time or digital has it's place but it is NOT the same as getting on a floor to play with a child or seeing the expression of a loved one. As my husband would state, "Saying that 'in person physical conversation' is the same as talking over technology, is akin to saying that making love is the same as self pleasure." There are times and places for most things, but if we have only ONE of something, what is lost? Where is the line? Days become weeks, weeks become months, months become years and patterns of behaviour can be set forever. We should never fear other people to the point of cruelty because a mask can hide. We should not fear germs alone as to be human IS to get sick at times. We must not confuse rigidity or rule following with pure morality. Nor must we forget that there are rules to adhere to or at least guidelines to respect.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iNPKxZ-jr99CyW3rWS2wuyEbWnrbBedT3bD935f0eXWKvG52gQtSbLHCn-hT6YpzCt_T6fBkZSljeLsAWCPYOdwcZvG1SjjCNSEXXomZkZyB7b6W0YT3L6h-JeLGkkqjDEOMPiYPxenz/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c4b4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iNPKxZ-jr99CyW3rWS2wuyEbWnrbBedT3bD935f0eXWKvG52gQtSbLHCn-hT6YpzCt_T6fBkZSljeLsAWCPYOdwcZvG1SjjCNSEXXomZkZyB7b6W0YT3L6h-JeLGkkqjDEOMPiYPxenz/s320/fullsizeoutput_c4b4.jpeg" width="320" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our leaders worry that if we ignore all of their advice that their power will diminish. We share because it is in human nature to share. We crave belonging. Without it, we slowly fade into shells of ourselves. We also crave being individual. Without that diversity, we become shadows of everyone else. BOTH are needed. Life is a tightrope of the tension.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYjlUSvKKRJoJrGr_mU98-ofeccmHMAFH0hhLq-g3w2qc385Npm6ASa-SQxgzdFkUWKkdrKGKRppFMDtFoSMahb-VOGFLqmuqS4Fxd3XocytiK3REmFLhqEHuPWvoKQLqiinXpZQqNAMX/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c311.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYjlUSvKKRJoJrGr_mU98-ofeccmHMAFH0hhLq-g3w2qc385Npm6ASa-SQxgzdFkUWKkdrKGKRppFMDtFoSMahb-VOGFLqmuqS4Fxd3XocytiK3REmFLhqEHuPWvoKQLqiinXpZQqNAMX/s320/fullsizeoutput_c311.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFGmoCIKKgqnII1vMWtTi2e-h2HWpTOYN6exW-Pw_meuRmj_XbGBtpC5rq1ouUZF8sDBcy0hPUl5eelXl41UPnkS7XDZTHKaPxaFsVzZjq-Osm37UVXKwHTx8kbuBkLsRCRas8lknAQd6/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c307.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLFGmoCIKKgqnII1vMWtTi2e-h2HWpTOYN6exW-Pw_meuRmj_XbGBtpC5rq1ouUZF8sDBcy0hPUl5eelXl41UPnkS7XDZTHKaPxaFsVzZjq-Osm37UVXKwHTx8kbuBkLsRCRas8lknAQd6/s320/fullsizeoutput_c307.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN121EJDXnb_nk78mywskOe1Z_dvRooRhry_OsiFTWFB8EywnimOr8jD6cDGSEo5QkAxS3wMdn_89KJW1JoecK7L2G9a8WXH3qEqAcYVnNbA4hQOmfLvdmFwVj7RsZiVf7qFjo_-FNcvMv/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c304.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN121EJDXnb_nk78mywskOe1Z_dvRooRhry_OsiFTWFB8EywnimOr8jD6cDGSEo5QkAxS3wMdn_89KJW1JoecK7L2G9a8WXH3qEqAcYVnNbA4hQOmfLvdmFwVj7RsZiVf7qFjo_-FNcvMv/s320/fullsizeoutput_c304.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCTkvM6ZwqzE7aOZjOHA66_XRYVaOq8gA6wi0SBbpB5YA98KL_27bCL_3OFNqgJ-wx8J1xy6jQQt5hec1luZPOH7NY6Ep_oa4OulBqY-A7hEcKDUYwuI4ToN-lDkaYhvsRLQhujF92ymZ/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c30a.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCTkvM6ZwqzE7aOZjOHA66_XRYVaOq8gA6wi0SBbpB5YA98KL_27bCL_3OFNqgJ-wx8J1xy6jQQt5hec1luZPOH7NY6Ep_oa4OulBqY-A7hEcKDUYwuI4ToN-lDkaYhvsRLQhujF92ymZ/s320/fullsizeoutput_c30a.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy630DJAg4mo5pFtUooRHcaTGs-7tiMMmNkEm9WqfMqUxGF4IFtGlcbNdoBzjhSkmAEzMV6UPYKiijN_o3-0cVisVGUBppLWP5pcmAh4BmRuj6FFWm8GtdnZqbj0GvYZsgGs32CwrW9ocC/s2048/17466AA6-C206-4E8E-99ED-2409B33AB718.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy630DJAg4mo5pFtUooRHcaTGs-7tiMMmNkEm9WqfMqUxGF4IFtGlcbNdoBzjhSkmAEzMV6UPYKiijN_o3-0cVisVGUBppLWP5pcmAh4BmRuj6FFWm8GtdnZqbj0GvYZsgGs32CwrW9ocC/s320/17466AA6-C206-4E8E-99ED-2409B33AB718.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div>How do we fill our time? Because each day is another precious moment of life we will never recover again. How we spend our days is how we spend our lives. The people I have the honour of conversing with lately, are not solely stressed by current events, the weather, the news or the political temperature of life. A version of these things will always be with us in many ways. There is nothing new under the sun yet there ARE new ways of viewing them or BEING with them because each new person is an I AM. I AM is ineffable. Each soul is diverse and new in itself, even if the concept of the soul or how souls tend to present, are not new. In this, we are both new and as ancient as each day.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqlOOep5jQWlJFptAPgEeu4_pxSRHUoIPVZIx02xpMo1SnF-c7MyB49DQ0jw4f5x1ZnQFnzYP2JxxZamQgKUHriQh9-SeEErNidTFnu6Izkc4TReIIjKm68MzIBDq5upxMJjOj4E0ak6kp/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c492.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_PsmnUJt4lmthacCQa2PmiNXcSnuHVfQEBMRwVgVQij-s8_dnwkFVRU2kFGI_L6QpnVUkZBpoJ-pbT62tdrtASrdk6nPClWhUCBDAuWe2YIJDVlluMES3cUiPbIgLcjnqguqg19rHlq3/s2048/IMG_7077.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_PsmnUJt4lmthacCQa2PmiNXcSnuHVfQEBMRwVgVQij-s8_dnwkFVRU2kFGI_L6QpnVUkZBpoJ-pbT62tdrtASrdk6nPClWhUCBDAuWe2YIJDVlluMES3cUiPbIgLcjnqguqg19rHlq3/s320/IMG_7077.JPG" width="320" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3i7SpkgvnUI-2C4DRYjsaFi6fJ1WNzWk7c2ikH1m-Bzvhdcp1KiPwqAhDczXg7DTeqZmEwb0yRUI-De3rIlLSoRs2RCwkLzpsasnkGglLu56IUUSs0mVbZxrWfbsll3Dmox5c_ilXAtGk/s2048/fullsizeoutput_c497.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3i7SpkgvnUI-2C4DRYjsaFi6fJ1WNzWk7c2ikH1m-Bzvhdcp1KiPwqAhDczXg7DTeqZmEwb0yRUI-De3rIlLSoRs2RCwkLzpsasnkGglLu56IUUSs0mVbZxrWfbsll3Dmox5c_ilXAtGk/s320/fullsizeoutput_c497.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6dgcniektDuw6zwGSOi0DN55_fqvKDi3a_twUKI3h8rmST-uSUFCaVfIjn2NSgyKLTqQChyphenhyphen2gkKqhMPrF0IGc1MJIVB4vCPtTSZ7-FTa0pj6j5NCXg3Xm5-zwwpjNTLWPWEVHd3OYOfx/s2048/IMG_7165.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6dgcniektDuw6zwGSOi0DN55_fqvKDi3a_twUKI3h8rmST-uSUFCaVfIjn2NSgyKLTqQChyphenhyphen2gkKqhMPrF0IGc1MJIVB4vCPtTSZ7-FTa0pj6j5NCXg3Xm5-zwwpjNTLWPWEVHd3OYOfx/s320/IMG_7165.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GQ2lom5sczHRxUBZtCYV9FS9k7POgKDmBYsvNbbhEG1IXfYgX3huLPeKgzExxyy3SAEzH7AkhEv7tsYComrEfzJO40iJ4qvGZ_Pa7xSvDFF6JS6BZDqYZFx_exqc6nvRHt9AgZgQnKIN/s2048/fullsizeoutput_be88.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GQ2lom5sczHRxUBZtCYV9FS9k7POgKDmBYsvNbbhEG1IXfYgX3huLPeKgzExxyy3SAEzH7AkhEv7tsYComrEfzJO40iJ4qvGZ_Pa7xSvDFF6JS6BZDqYZFx_exqc6nvRHt9AgZgQnKIN/s320/fullsizeoutput_be88.jpeg" /></a></div><br />Find the true and beautiful. Read the books that you love despite the critics opinion. Consume the shows that uplift or give your family laughter. Choose the people who are safe to be around, keep your secrets and challenge you to grow. Find souls that believe in the interconnected individuality we all encompass. Do not choose to live life out of fear but try to also incorporate respect. Take the D and C supplements, use the S.A.D lights, wash your hands, paint a room a colour that FEEDS you even if it is not currently in or considered "too dark" or "too light" by others. It is YOUR ANAM CARA. Your soul friend. It is YOUR place to seek solace. BE a soul friend in every sense of the word to yourself and to those around you. Do not live for others but BE there for others.<p></p><p>As Mr. Shakespeare once summed up;</p><p>"To BE or NOT to BE- That IS the question."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div><br /><p>Song Choice: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9g1YpDK7Dcg" target="_blank">Scarecrow- Alex and Sierra</a> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jx_ZEL-1WHw" target="_blank">Who are They- Tim McGraw</a></p><p><br /></p><br />
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Jx_ZEL-1WHw" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-3748299508614826732020-12-29T12:07:00.022-08:002024-01-02T20:37:15.567-08:00For the Sake of Our Children: The New Instagram User Agreement/ Alternatives to Media Privacy Violators/ Why we Left Instagram/ The Social Dilemma/ Dealing with Withdrawal and Grief<p> For a more peaceful post on the benefits movement months after this decision please click here: <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2023/02/making-room-off-of-social-media-beauty.html?m=1" target="_blank">https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2023/02/making-room-off-of-social-media-beauty.html?m=1</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijg242DaiARScyArbpIX_4KASAo-Ufgnmob7kX26BjJHmE6ZkABtxUxqh1xStxUd0G6iHdW6prk0T6VQAcAjKGr_bCaWHpI3dul_ywEN0yWyCx6IYdOeAFZQktVpnslP37wPBG98g4EVX/s600/christmas+2013-TWINKLE.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="450" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijg242DaiARScyArbpIX_4KASAo-Ufgnmob7kX26BjJHmE6ZkABtxUxqh1xStxUd0G6iHdW6prk0T6VQAcAjKGr_bCaWHpI3dul_ywEN0yWyCx6IYdOeAFZQktVpnslP37wPBG98g4EVX/s320/christmas+2013-TWINKLE.gif" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><u>Why We Left Instagram/ The NEW USER INSTAGRAM AGREEMENT:</u></p><p>I was censored on Instagram for sharing my last post below (Stories from Covid.) It was simply an image without hashtags, nor words. On the bottom it told people to go to the government website for accurate information. That was one of my wake up calls.</p><p>I read the new terms of Instagram's User Agreement a month ago and knew I would not be able to stand by it...but what to do about it? Not only do they have access to other devices around your app device, but they have "ownership" of your user name and any of your content. They can access banking, your messages ( and it states that they can get into disputes on your messaging) and censor or modify your content. They also state that you can't sue and if you do you are agreeing to only 100 dollar settlement if you use their site. There is no accountability. On cell phone agreements there is still a higher law that the company is called to. We CAN demand better privacy. There ARE other sites that honour privacy to a degree. Facebook/ What's App/ Twitter/YOUTUBE/ TIK TOK and Instagram have similar privacy agreements. Even though it is boring- it is important to read what you consent to. Also, by using the apps you ARE agreeing. In my mind that is not true consent. Consent should be a box checked or an actual action. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_jd70b-cHeMTbIpwSKMfERGtHHga75c0W0Wqcw__-BjuwrRPHWqzF1bg47mkkb0b8-HfDxVN0IktnEdA-S2zxib-aX8LEricEJdNN6YZgPQHv2A_HZvu9JU4hHcf0sK-GeZLYJ_7UYuF/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_jd70b-cHeMTbIpwSKMfERGtHHga75c0W0Wqcw__-BjuwrRPHWqzF1bg47mkkb0b8-HfDxVN0IktnEdA-S2zxib-aX8LEricEJdNN6YZgPQHv2A_HZvu9JU4hHcf0sK-GeZLYJ_7UYuF/" width="237" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ZdX4BE0Gg5yo4hY0xafLL6v5WgmVnwb61Itwpy0NvseJXvmh8krAvx-uPTqwrqvXEqi1zXZyiA91c1Xtnk6FGTSmyp_PpVLzznCXsijpbKG5f2HoiT4UlOCZXGekjP3-5D_RJb3suuqf/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ZdX4BE0Gg5yo4hY0xafLL6v5WgmVnwb61Itwpy0NvseJXvmh8krAvx-uPTqwrqvXEqi1zXZyiA91c1Xtnk6FGTSmyp_PpVLzznCXsijpbKG5f2HoiT4UlOCZXGekjP3-5D_RJb3suuqf/" width="210" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51jHb1nE3bhUHosTao9iP8U1r9FaT5RhE8Lum7gf0WWYqMBN4ij6gKjO4MJkf_RdUIxax8bVUSF22utjaA8UcENX14J1LsCTqoVMtnNO-ptA6SccR5zUPOcISkCjLaLlfi0BBmeWxqdC4/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51jHb1nE3bhUHosTao9iP8U1r9FaT5RhE8Lum7gf0WWYqMBN4ij6gKjO4MJkf_RdUIxax8bVUSF22utjaA8UcENX14J1LsCTqoVMtnNO-ptA6SccR5zUPOcISkCjLaLlfi0BBmeWxqdC4/" width="199" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisa_NJuChnzQr7vIipjXbG9pnbXHoAcm2IApMl66PE0rukgFbnAP00Tos8wOlxr6jNCioclG9pOKHdQkpv-OXwflIkf4TefaaTqbStJCU_rAwcpUOCKqhnxgYDNpI5UAaG6fJnUyOwLNm/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="695" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisa_NJuChnzQr7vIipjXbG9pnbXHoAcm2IApMl66PE0rukgFbnAP00Tos8wOlxr6jNCioclG9pOKHdQkpv-OXwflIkf4TefaaTqbStJCU_rAwcpUOCKqhnxgYDNpI5UAaG6fJnUyOwLNm/" width="221" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u><b>How to Leave Instagram</b></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our family is leaving Instagram as of January. First we wanted to say goodbye, get contact information and download our data. To do this go into your account> Security> Download Data> Email Request. Then wait a few days for your download to your computer of your photos and history. Post your last post and give it a few days for people to see and then DE ACTIVATE. </div><div><br /></div><u><b>Alternatives to Instagram/ Facebook ect:</b></u><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://opensource.com/article/19/1/open-source-social-media-alternatives" target="_blank">https://opensource.com/article/19/1/open-source-social-media-alternatives</a></div><div><br /></div><div>This article gives a few alternatives like <a href="https://joinmastodon.org/" target="_blank">Mastadon </a>(click) and <a href="https://pixelfed.social/" target="_blank">PixelfedSocial (click)</a>which currently honour privacy and do not change the algorithm or use TARGETED data collecting ads. (As with anything, it is important every year or so to keep up on the terms of use. That COULD change.) I've also heard platforms like Parlour or Mewe have more free speech laws but I have also heard negative aspects of them. However, I do believe that WE make the change. If a platform that allows free speech turns to hate- we CAN go on and make it better if it's the users that are the problem. But if the platform is the problem - that is an entirely different matter. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigRy8TLoB-oYPMFaw1G2J3pdIEwJXzT3PMDvEnWsszHJHj7gYMeBY7u_D2_BiIqj2s8YmrewllNUkt_KSGofqXwjQuRvxQU_TXJWx6hW9CJuHhmgp9ltHdw6vbHm0vZ1UX0z9HLbP4KI6A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigRy8TLoB-oYPMFaw1G2J3pdIEwJXzT3PMDvEnWsszHJHj7gYMeBY7u_D2_BiIqj2s8YmrewllNUkt_KSGofqXwjQuRvxQU_TXJWx6hW9CJuHhmgp9ltHdw6vbHm0vZ1UX0z9HLbP4KI6A/" width="135" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRHL_QRiTR7XtTcjzFgfcz9YZm-xc6h1tK4xVbhJHBjyRpPTfYsbJEPbMTP7AZJizRrcKD7PIMDCBkI8I3Z9vWVoQMlbArddlo7YRWJKvO70q7pQIORNnZlQGekTzqR8VL_qqfXVgnJC0/s1103/fullsizeoutput_bcfa.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1103" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRHL_QRiTR7XtTcjzFgfcz9YZm-xc6h1tK4xVbhJHBjyRpPTfYsbJEPbMTP7AZJizRrcKD7PIMDCBkI8I3Z9vWVoQMlbArddlo7YRWJKvO70q7pQIORNnZlQGekTzqR8VL_qqfXVgnJC0/s320/fullsizeoutput_bcfa.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If you decide to go on a new platform try to connect or bring in at least two people with you for support. That way the appeal will be there. It is hard work to adjust to anything new. We need to transform the demanding, addictive technology back into a tools based one. We should be using our platforms as helpful tools to enhance our lives, not take away from them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">" There are only two industries that call their consumers "users" -illegal drugs and software."- Edward Tufte</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u style="text-align: left;"><br /></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u style="text-align: left;"><b>The Social Dilemma:</b></u></div><p>"It is the gradual, slight, imperceptible change in your own behaviour and perception to that IS the product." You ARE the product on these "free sites." Netflix has a docu drama called <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaaC57tcci0" target="_blank">"The Social Dilemma" </a>. Some people are opposed to it because Netflix is it's platform and I had similar concerns, however I felt that I could use critical thinking to balance out what was needed. It IS filmed in a drama documentary way and at first seems alarming, however, I was impressed as it went on, how positive it actually became. The points made were important and crucial to consider. The critics and outliers of society are the people who are actually optimistic for hopeful change. The previous CEOs of all these companies ( facebook/ twitter/youtube/ instagram) make important points. The information presented is grounded in experience, data, and proof. </p><p>"<span face=""Swiss 721 SWA", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, "Nimbus Sans L", sans-serif" style="background-color: #f4f4f4; color: #444444; font-size: 18px;">The biggest obstacle to growing and using online communities is getting people to move to them. Without growth, the services will go the way of MySpace and other sites that came before or after Facebook. We create our online communities, and if we can use open source, ethical, and privacy-respecting platforms, the internet and our lives will benefit greatly." (taken from <a href="https://opensource.com/article/19/1/open-source-social-media-alternatives" target="_blank">HERE</a>) </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFewQurESomjFAt-cYhyuCnveGh7ydcP_n3WkELM4NUv87K5VY2wMzZJoWhUqpz1XkxOKbp8yJ_ttAWmnXEiCO8BEjEXxA8aRemjdOBu6iev0eKljipAHsk56Epfzrfgd_n5v1KVMlzcn/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFewQurESomjFAt-cYhyuCnveGh7ydcP_n3WkELM4NUv87K5VY2wMzZJoWhUqpz1XkxOKbp8yJ_ttAWmnXEiCO8BEjEXxA8aRemjdOBu6iev0eKljipAHsk56Epfzrfgd_n5v1KVMlzcn/" width="191" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u><b>FOR PARENTS and CAREGIVERS:</b></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Since 2011 U.S. Hospital admissions for Non Fatal self harm for girls 10-14 has gone up 189 percent! 189! For girls ages 15-19 it has gone up 62 percent since 2009. It's up TRIPLE. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Since 2010 the US suicide rates for teenage girls has gone up 151 percent in the 10-14 age range in comparison to the national average from 2001-2010. That IS the influence of social media. That is just for the USA. FOr teen girls ages 15-19 it has gone up 70 percent. Do we want our preteens and teens subjected to this??</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We are viewing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaaC57tcci0" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">The Social Dilemma" </a> with our teenage children. However, we have paused it occasionally to discuss and explain with them. There is ONE part I will not be showing my sensitive viewers. That is from the time stamp of 1:06 to 1:12 ( just fill in the blanks you wish to fill.) If your children make the brave and very tough decision to go off some social media platforms, applaud, reward and support them. Even as an adult, I am going through some legitimate grief. I enjoyed many aspects. We are MEANT to share. We are meant to have community and look for approval in our tribes. However, we are not meant to look for approval from hundreds or even thousands at a time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Your child WILL go through withdrawal, boredom, temptation, isolation and grief. During Covid this is especially prominent. It is why I feel it is important to still offer alternatives to connection. The alternatives I have thought of thus far: Texting, phoning, sharing private home videos on Vimeo, sharing pictures on a private or public blogs, picking slower but still privacy respecting media alternatives like Pixelfed or Mastadon above ect. Also engage with them personally a bit more. Take them sledding, skating or out for a walk. Connect in conversation. Allow a bit more video gaming initially or movie viewing ( for a time period.) Encourage them to find two friends who can view the Social Dilemma too and discuss. Encourage them to find a few friends who are committed to finding new ways to connect. Use DUCK DUCK Go for searches instead of GOOGLE. It will not appeal to your history or give you targeted subliminal messaging the same way google does. Be active with them and give them more attention for the first 30 days at least.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I would also recommend that you encourage old skool ways of viewing shows instead of YOUTUBE. If you DO use Youtube, search via DUCK DUCK GO and monitor usage. "There is this narrative that says we will just adapt to this or learn to live with these things but there is something newer going on here we have never dealt with in history before... our brains have not evolved to this fast pace yet..." ( <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaaC57tcci0" target="_blank">The Social Dilemma" </a> )</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVoubI3IfPx-EjBLgL4ZwBwEe_Gzqo4mj9YM4dBfDSmwaWkxAwyfu8ZTcUyrhZO3y67Y8mScjb3D8_au5rr9ufHEqDoMefqP6_v_hTW28NPV8EDyLl2ZssPSoXi0vzcu2RgxoXJ2y41Ml/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="993" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVoubI3IfPx-EjBLgL4ZwBwEe_Gzqo4mj9YM4dBfDSmwaWkxAwyfu8ZTcUyrhZO3y67Y8mScjb3D8_au5rr9ufHEqDoMefqP6_v_hTW28NPV8EDyLl2ZssPSoXi0vzcu2RgxoXJ2y41Ml/" width="155" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9Jh8XrFcE389Y10Y1NYDzzHXiKjYLhHE0QT6QvjpVms0i7HHtac5IeOtHpxRWzJFqHFzkqzlobm_x1Cu0eJyzoGvolAPlkpOR8DGIxMIYm-DdFhAzrjAZHT7XZTEI84TmsQxLbXcY_Jf/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9Jh8XrFcE389Y10Y1NYDzzHXiKjYLhHE0QT6QvjpVms0i7HHtac5IeOtHpxRWzJFqHFzkqzlobm_x1Cu0eJyzoGvolAPlkpOR8DGIxMIYm-DdFhAzrjAZHT7XZTEI84TmsQxLbXcY_Jf/" width="153" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JnYWnwdPM0uszTkjBp74yw4cezPaynQJQqM9vIa_EabLhbZNtO7GVZK-mr1h-V6ZxIk6s_IOmk9F2pdFMhJQECrWVI_oIhFFlxIuHTGibXRgZTS_btbEqefi6YZZFOQI8ZrBTrKy0sPT/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JnYWnwdPM0uszTkjBp74yw4cezPaynQJQqM9vIa_EabLhbZNtO7GVZK-mr1h-V6ZxIk6s_IOmk9F2pdFMhJQECrWVI_oIhFFlxIuHTGibXRgZTS_btbEqefi6YZZFOQI8ZrBTrKy0sPT/" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbpHs1lVvd1j2e34X5qaT54NQ6JSrz7_fwWCGgZGwq3QIZZax6gjIcPTUDAgc-3J3zwoI6mWFyaZa6gmTQQ5sl0x_ImNwKAHD8tA6lv5iKKJ3g8a7bl0AJLQ-A8dOykUgfevC6jt2_XKj/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="993" data-original-width="993" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbpHs1lVvd1j2e34X5qaT54NQ6JSrz7_fwWCGgZGwq3QIZZax6gjIcPTUDAgc-3J3zwoI6mWFyaZa6gmTQQ5sl0x_ImNwKAHD8tA6lv5iKKJ3g8a7bl0AJLQ-A8dOykUgfevC6jt2_XKj/" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33MAP0nogZSgYfLbtJgEIjC6FpQn57CKIZ_joheinmOIs65zUNObRovif4_6RE2yKFhRqLdsHa2_djXP7w6W8QkgsqapAc_zxGy5MxWASwal1MyCG0lvC632__bfp6VK_H21u_XSMzLlG/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img alt="" data-original-height="986" data-original-width="986" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33MAP0nogZSgYfLbtJgEIjC6FpQn57CKIZ_joheinmOIs65zUNObRovif4_6RE2yKFhRqLdsHa2_djXP7w6W8QkgsqapAc_zxGy5MxWASwal1MyCG0lvC632__bfp6VK_H21u_XSMzLlG/" width="240" /></b></a></div><b><br /><br /></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u><b>For Pre teens/ Teens or Children Who Wish to Make a Change:</b></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><u><br /></u></div><p></p></div><blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lEg3_pzgcE92rauLTpjW-nmoniJiUeXz4sPbJGXJ-tvem5X_WA4kJz-gNVJul8qJJodnd7TQcQ4aRT2SYC8Wk82EjOkcWHOZSfPmQxg2-2rW8QugDZhwD1hhc4HLxjMn97cBD3VtnWpn/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lEg3_pzgcE92rauLTpjW-nmoniJiUeXz4sPbJGXJ-tvem5X_WA4kJz-gNVJul8qJJodnd7TQcQ4aRT2SYC8Wk82EjOkcWHOZSfPmQxg2-2rW8QugDZhwD1hhc4HLxjMn97cBD3VtnWpn/" width="135" /></a></div></div><p></p></div></blockquote><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: inherit; text-size-adjust: auto;">The Internet is here to stay. It’s like the wild west. It took<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; font-family: inherit; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">y</span>ears to get free from lawlessness to vigilante to law and order to civilized ethics. The wild west mattered and it’s beautiful because different people demanded more. Person by person it began to change. The way social media is can change but we must cause that change. People do still have the patterns and intelligence to change the larger AI systems. We do!</span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; font-family: inherit; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"> It’s just a matter of choice and balance. Social media can be beautiful. We were meant to share. Just not with hundreds or thousands which affect our brains and our stress levels. We are meant to find new people to inspire and influence us and the Internet is a great tool. But we also have a responsibility to what we agreed to. It’s very tricky. </span></p><p><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; font-family: inherit; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;">To the youth whom I know: You will make the most difference! You are<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; font-family: inherit; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;">tomorrow</span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; font-family: inherit; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;">! You do not need a platform to make the world beautiful. But if you must have one- choose it wisely. You are the ones whose suicide rates are unprecedented in history. You are the ones whose anxiety has been up since 2009. YOU are the ones whom this matters the most to and I wish to reach some of you because YOU MATTER. We care about protecting you. In older TV programs there were laws on what was advertised to children. We protected the rights of children and what they saw, but with YOUTUBE etc. those laws are out the window. </span></p><p>Ask your parents or two good friends for support. If you have no one to support you, reach out to me at worldwecreate@gmail.com. I will be happy to discuss the film <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaaC57tcci0" target="_blank">The Social Dilemma" </a> with you ( and recommend if you are sensitive to skip time stamp of 1:06 to 1:12 . ) I will try to support you and encourage you if you are lonely or down. You can email me and we can set that up if you have no one. Your self worth and identity MATTER. "We have not evolved to be aware of social approval being put on us on a daily basis"...especially from more than even thirty people. It's insanity that way. "It's fake, short term, brittle popularity that leaves you empty and vacant..." Try to get outside if you can. When Covid is over try to join more clubs/ social events/ local outdoor things. Learn to watch videos with friends WITHOUT having your phone around. Visit with friends without using your device and see how much deeper it can be. Read books and discuss. Start a blog or a private place only a few supportive loved ones can view your thoughts and pictures. Choose platforms that respect your privacy and do not rely on constant feeds, targeted ads or constant likes. If you love photography migrate to a better photography website or try PIXELFED SOCIAL or something different. Use an actual camera instead of your phone and leave your phone at home or in a separate room when you are engaged in other activities. Use your phone for emergencies, driving and out on errands but leave it for walks and take your camera instead. </p><p><u>FINAL THOUGHTS/ POLARIZATION OF SOCIETY/ WE ARE NOT SEEING THE SAME THINGS:</u></p><p>Do you want to engage constantly with an entity that knows a lot about you but you don't know it at all? Do you want to give your rights to something that can predict your behaviour, know whom you are within a radius mile too ect? There ARE wonderful aspects of technology. I love it for finding important directions, the camera ( although I am thinking of going back to a singular camera to have my phone on me less), texting occasionally and phoning. I am glad though that I still have a landline. I am happy to still have time limits on my computer. I am thankful that I have stopped getting junk email or random emails. I am glad I can connect to people globally in a way that is quicker than snail mail. I DO feel we need to explore and make connections that are new and inspiring. It is fun to find products that suit us. But we don't need more...we actually now need less. A few less connections is not dire. Less stuff is not the end of the world. Less connection that is frail and empty is actually more. </p><p>Turn OFF your notifications. Get your attention back.</p><p>"Where you happen to google from, even of two friends who are so close to each other whom have the same friends, think that they will go to google and see the same set of updates...that is untrue. Each person has their own reality, with their own facts... We accept the reality of the world to which we are presented. We get the false sense that everyone agrees with us...once you are in that state you are easy to be manipulated. That is how Facebook works and google works...THEY are in charge of your newsfeed. You are no longer able to consume information that is contradictory to what you are consuming...you begin to look at the other side and think, "How can those people be so stupid? How can they not see all this information that is on my feed?" But the fact is they are NOT seeing the same things you are. " (The Social Dilemma) </p><p>This is causing a grave polarization in politics, life and could eventually lead to civil war if we do not recognize this and change our patterns. The algorithm can change behaviours by feeding us what we think we are aligned with ( an example is Pizza Gate.) "<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Fake news spreads 6 times faster than true news. "- Social Dilemma </span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">What does that mean for our future? Where is the shared understanding of reality? AI can not solve the problem of fake news. It’s a program. It doesn’t know what “truth” is. We need to begin to agree and interact. It begins with us.</span></p><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima; font-size: 13px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: small;">“There I am with the phone scrolling, texting. clicking…Where is the existential threat? It’s not about the technology being the existential threat. It’s the technologies ability to bring out the worst in society. And the worst in society being the existential threat…If technology creates mass chaos, outrage, instability, lack of trust in each other, loneliness, alienation, more polarization, more election hacking, more populism, more distraction and inability to focus on the real issues, that’s just society and now society is incapable of healing itself and devolving into a kind of chaos. This affects everyone even if you do not use these products…we have to have the platforms become responsible… This is not going away…the AI is gonna get better at what keeps us on the screen not less...”- Tristan the Social Dilemma. </span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima; font-size: 13px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima; font-size: 13px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: small;">“If we go down the current situation for the next 20 years we will probably degrade the democracies as we know it and ruin the global economy… it really is existential.”- The Social Dilemma </span></div><div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima; font-size: 13px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima;">“How do you wake up fro the matrix when you don’t know you are in the matrix?”- Tristan Social Dilemma “A lot of what we are saying sounds like doom and gloom…no it’s confusing because it’s simultaneously utopia and dystopia."</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima;">“These are choices that human beings have been making and human beings can change those technologies…”- The Social Dilemma</span></p><p>We can demand more. We can do better. "It's the critics that drive improvement. It is the critics whom are the true optimists." </p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">“The miracle is collective will."</span></p><p><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">(Many people who created this tech don’t let their kids use it or have screen time. Think about that. The CREATORS don’t allow their children on devices or have strict rules. They do not allow Social media until aged 16 at least and work out time budgets.) Just getting a few people to delete their accounts MATTERS. </span></p><p>Technology is here to stay but how we use it, consume it, or even choose to stay with certain programs because it makes our lives easier, MATTERS. We have to change our patterns, find better platforms, find a balance between making it a tool for us and living our lives. Look around. There is beauty. There is a lot that is positive. It is not all dire. We can make a change.</p><p>There is a lot of beauty out there! Go and live it!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>NOTE: If I come up with new sites or anyone else does- check the comments:) I am also thinking of posting just pictures and quotes sometimes as blog posts in lieu of Instagram. My husband pointed out if I do about 2 hours of blogging every two weeks ( posting and reading others blogs) I am still 80 percent less in time, clicking and scrolling in comparison! </p><p>Song Choice: <a href="https://vimeo.com/96085818" target="_blank">Man in the Mirror - Michael Jackson</a> Vimeo has better privacy setting than youtube- case in point below:) but watch it there!</p>
<iframe allow="autoplay; fullscreen" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/96085818?byline=0&portrait=0" width="640"></iframe>
<p><a href="https://vimeo.com/96085818">Michael Jackson - Man In The Mirror (Official Video)</a> from <a href="https://vimeo.com/user25026600">moseleyscience</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-42768395763911630122020-12-12T11:37:00.008-08:002022-06-23T08:30:04.544-07:00Stories During Covid-19 - Painting a Picture and an INFJ Approach <p>Important: In this post I am quoting other people's experiences and stories during Covid and the many views presented. Due to the volatile times we are in- I am keeping their identities anonymous. This is not a cut and dry topic. There are so many differing stories...Could they all be true even though they are different? Why do we doubt one over the other? These are just the few LATEST of the MANY differing correspondences I receive. Some are local, others are global perspectives. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vQhjcwszfhO5iJSO1aMxHI7So42DbxejWDXlyrLVVEG8iMvDzQMp0QhNA594l806zyXSl8-0AzpMWECg6ayzsmLpZ_k9X56LyJjAqOVU-YsDPoRCz1r-tiu2sQ970ip0tu-B94mtBe6O/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vQhjcwszfhO5iJSO1aMxHI7So42DbxejWDXlyrLVVEG8iMvDzQMp0QhNA594l806zyXSl8-0AzpMWECg6ayzsmLpZ_k9X56LyJjAqOVU-YsDPoRCz1r-tiu2sQ970ip0tu-B94mtBe6O/" width="135" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: inherit;">"<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: left;"> I have sadly been dealing with several deaths of my older friends (fondly called the Ancients in our circles) right here in St. Louis. I have lost TEN friends and acquaintances from back in NYC...old professors who would NOT stop riding the subway, and caught the virus from that contact, so we surmise. Have dealt with that (including retrieving a body from one of the meat trucks used to house cadavers in the early days of the wave that hit NYC by PHONE. Had to get one of the prisoners who were loading the dead to go into different cold trucks and find the toe tag of the "lost" elderly chum. That way was able to arrange for him to be buried privately as he had planned, and NOT in the mass graves dug in one the islands in the NYS harbor." It is like living on the edge of hell. The two ancients here caught the virus."</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"C</span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">ovid has been deadly for people.. and in the beginning they mistreated lots of people thinking ventilators would help ect. when it was hurting some. Also saw stories of nurses saying they watched doctors </span>literally<span style="font-family: inherit;"> not care and kill people ( in New York) just making stupid human errors."</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"</span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">Thanks Kmarie, for your good wishes. I am glad that you and your family is safe. The situation is very difficult indeed. We are also confined to home and people are also fined for stepping outside home ( beyond 2 kms). My husband is still working from home. Schools, educational institutions are still closed. My brother had 50% salary cut at first and finally, lost his job as our nation's economic situation is bad right now yet slowly recovering. Situation improved a bit but after major festival season ( in October- November) many people went out in crowds to celebrate and it led to more spread and contamination. Shortage of hospital beds, medical facilities and added pressure/ risk on healthcare workers forced our government to take strong steps and introduce some regulatory measures."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"My mom has worked on nursing homes for the past twenty years and she says every year they loose almost half of </span>their<span style="font-family: inherit;"> residents from common cold o</span></span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit; text-size-adjust: auto;">r flu because end on life even the simplest things ones body can’t handle. </span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">My mom said that this past year has been so hard on the residents and she has seen SO much depression and quick regression with dementia patients because they aren’t getting that family support they desperately need. She said people are dying very sad... she has called residents family m</span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">embers and told them that their family members are close to death and that if they actually want to be with them for the last days they needed to pull them out and have them at home because of covid protocals for a long time no one was allowed to see their families."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"I </span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">think we are at the point that we all know covid can be dangerous... now it’s up to the individual to live in a way that is authentic to them.. if you are wanting to stay closed up then stay that way... of you need to socialize and others are willing then socialize. Ect."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">“I had covid and while it was minor for many of my friends I am grateful for the nurses who knew to give my oxygen and helped my body fight. I am so thankful for healthcare."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"Yes, there are a lot of factors. Some nurses were laid off too, early on. And then they also close a whole unit with one positive case, so they have staff assigned to that unit only, which makes them unable to help out in other departments. Where I think staff are being overworked is probably in LTC homes. The cleaning and having to gown and mask up thoroughly between patients is probably taxing. Then again, some care homes the people are being totally neglected, so it's so hard to say what is really happening."</span></div><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"Some people say "my friend, or my sister, or someone I know works as a nurse in Calgary/ Edmonton and they are swamped"! The thing is the hospitals are being poorly managed, as usual. Covid has made it worse than normal, but by no means are hospitals overwhelmed at this point yet in many cases. At least in my area it is still pretty empty. Despite what the news says."</span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"As a practicing nurse, I can not say much for fear of my job but I will say that many of these protocols are damaging at the least and some things are being mis- reported."</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"I can’t even speak this side without being completely censored but I am seeing discrepancies in health care. Those of us whom want to both be careful but the individual needs of our patients have many concerns."</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"It’s very scary...there is deep division happening with a lot of stuff right now. It boggles my mind how the side that is pro v*ccine isn’t capable of looking at the other side. Good science would require you to do so and science is never settled." </span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My note on this- Think back to the "Science" and ads in the 1950's when they said "abestos" is healthy for the home. Where would we be if the scientific process of questioning and challenging was not in continuous motion? Think of the bloodletting for fevers...There are so many </span>examples<span style="font-family: inherit;"> from history where it was clearly wrong but the ones who called it or questioned it were seen as occultists, crazies or not worth listening to. Until later it was proven and considered mainstream and those people were still not thanked as they moved on to questioning other aspects. See picture below:</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dTJTXhW_ErA0gxlU8FmIBCkeoTZW-3cMWJd7kvz4Z2yEiWoHFc6ORH1pmSbnV1m6kPawaEgX1mxrlQtUSbGIcqet3wulAQncGZ58qNLuOL0_HvQ4jag74kXKoNoOR7kch7s7KPdN4HM1/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dTJTXhW_ErA0gxlU8FmIBCkeoTZW-3cMWJd7kvz4Z2yEiWoHFc6ORH1pmSbnV1m6kPawaEgX1mxrlQtUSbGIcqet3wulAQncGZ58qNLuOL0_HvQ4jag74kXKoNoOR7kch7s7KPdN4HM1/" width="135" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit; text-size-adjust: auto;">"M</span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">y general mindset is that I firmly </span>believe<span style="font-family: inherit;"> in lockdown and quarantine protocols."</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="text-size-adjust: auto;">"I consider myself far left but yeah, I don’t doubt that’s what’s going on, but I think we are being distracted by blaming it on either side.</span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">There are many videos and cases of this. Two sides of the government are at war right now- especially here in the States but it seems to be a global pattern."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">"</span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">So much suffering. A county near us has had 10 suicides already this year and they rarely see suicide. </span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">There is no easy way to say a life is more valuable over another. I’m not sure that came out right... like is the life lost to suicide less worthy then the life lost to covid ?... </span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: inherit;">I think we are going to look back on this historically and we are going to grieve and see the wrong steps that where made in the name of “health” and “preservation.'"</span></p><p>These are just a few examples of the myriad amount of stories and perspectives (within only my circles!) at this time. It is NOT cut and dry. We are not all in the same boat. Some of us are dealing with similar aspects or protocols in certain places but even the virus affects different people differently. Luckily, with a 99.9 survival rate, it is much better than many other instances in history thus far. The deaths are still sad, as any deaths are. The risks are still real. But I hear many people summing up the tragedy of 2020 as strictly the year. Or that ultimately Covid is the problem. But what if it is ALSO how we are responding? What if it is our protocols that also make each death in isolation so tragic? What if...since the rates are low for certain populations to die...what if we allowed those healthy populations the CHOICE to see their dying loved ones if they washed and wore a mask but knew the risks? What if we allowed the elderly their visitors IF they decide the risks are worth it for them? Some will and some will not. What if we made it easier for those who choose to stay isolated indefinitely because they do not want to chance it? What if we didn't force testing on anyone presenting colds ect but those who are severe or needing different medical help? What if we supported the body and gave people the knowledge on how to stay home while sick, but be their best selves with the best chance of beating it? What if, we only mandated protocols on the places that actually had problems staffing their hospitals and allowing this to change? Many hospitals that are swamped initially then become empty...what if we went with more of a flexible flow approach? Of course this is way more complex but what if we chose to not guise fear as "protection." Fear leads to many wrong calls. We must not makes choices out of fear but out of balanced, contextual accounts.</p><p>Personally, my personality as an INFJ will naturally challenge and question protocols - it's what I am born to do ( see memes below.) It's why I am not popular but fine with it. It is why certain friendships of mine ebb and flow depending on the agreeableness of current events. (If they agree mostly they like me questioning but then a few years later if I am questioning the side they take then obviously this won't be the most favourite trait to them:) It's also why my friendship group can vary dramatically and why I can maintain friendships that are opposing in almost all of their viewpoints. Sometimes it hurts feelings that I can be friends with someone on the opposites side of such an important standard to someone. It can come across as fake or a sort of duplicity...but it's honestly that I see validity in both and can relate in different manners. I understand that it's tough to understand. INFJ's make up less than 2 percent of the population which is a good thing. It is just enough to have people out there that do what I do ...as it is needed too...but not enough to drive the main populace which would probably spell out disaster. I have INFJ's who completely disagree with me on certain things so we are not all the same in what we question. The meme below is true that I often question my own sanity due to the accusations that can be thrown my way or the people I sometimes lose in the process. But I also need to still grow, challenge and BE.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC70mEtqQR6lXUJzFdsYGD6j7xxcXLQRnj-MLGukxldPbga9NToEhaaCvwfgqSvXYURwyRnsMcWLisBGzKHUYEIFVtSoE9JO542jPPM5s2sIIgxyC8GFvcg_wbFDTwWL_RJ3ElAt91p2Re/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="575" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC70mEtqQR6lXUJzFdsYGD6j7xxcXLQRnj-MLGukxldPbga9NToEhaaCvwfgqSvXYURwyRnsMcWLisBGzKHUYEIFVtSoE9JO542jPPM5s2sIIgxyC8GFvcg_wbFDTwWL_RJ3ElAt91p2Re/" width="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbBog_rtCh9ViVqVNQhK9sAj7a2UyklUUhWF0hTNeUVU8jE0QtjKGTB6EeGoxVUP1XNDLSbtoUAWUxRJA3KkOXUxdRGj0VTDYBsifE2PDXkBNOucAHbsLQz9uJoAQcTM_OcO-2Uz4RtzA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirbBog_rtCh9ViVqVNQhK9sAj7a2UyklUUhWF0hTNeUVU8jE0QtjKGTB6EeGoxVUP1XNDLSbtoUAWUxRJA3KkOXUxdRGj0VTDYBsifE2PDXkBNOucAHbsLQz9uJoAQcTM_OcO-2Uz4RtzA/" width="257" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguUlH4dbrLZMGY0xZg5qJWcwtdgXtlX-ARlOtfpmMh0ALu1PucGCmle2Vqhixb9dF-qvMtmFbU9vN_P7w5pMwlc7eoSVepp71AM0JvXfz6wAEJYH9d1si88MiaD5WtpehTTo31okqRT5ut/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguUlH4dbrLZMGY0xZg5qJWcwtdgXtlX-ARlOtfpmMh0ALu1PucGCmle2Vqhixb9dF-qvMtmFbU9vN_P7w5pMwlc7eoSVepp71AM0JvXfz6wAEJYH9d1si88MiaD5WtpehTTo31okqRT5ut/" width="252" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>I don't believe that my way is the only way. Or I have all the answers...far from it. The more perspectives I see, the more questions I often have. For my own sanity, I do come to a few of my own conclusions but I never force them on others. I do however, get severely irritated at those whom refuse to consider at the very least. Or acknowledge there ARE other repercussions, ways to live, or ways to BE. In any political, social, emotional, physical or spiritual ways of being people in ANY mindset can still afford to flexibly consider the other. <p></p><p>I am so lucky to have the friends that I do...recently I told a friend about my latest blog post and warning her that it may be upsetting for her but explaining why I wrote it...she wrote back; </p><p><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: inherit;">"<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ok dear. I will try to focus on your blog posts which addresses general topics and ignore the ones which may elicit a strong response from me. I will focus on our friendship instead and all the common things that we shared and not where our opinions are opposite/ different. Take care, 💕💖"</span></span></p><p>If only we could resolve some deeper issue with that much grace. If only we could address contextual differences honestly but then focus on the similarities for the healing part. Because differences MATTER. We are not all the same. Our medical history is not the same. Our reactions to vaccines are not the same. Our ability to wear masks are not the same. Our beliefs are not the same. Our toleration of being alone are not the same. We NEED to make different choices. But where we are the same -are our hearts to prevent pain where we can, protect those we love, honour the grief of those who are different, and be in gratitude for those who can make us feel less crazy about our differences. Maybe then we will be a little bit more tolerant of the outliers, rebels or the followers or sheep ( whichever side we feel we fall on more although we all have a bit of each in us.) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZ8Oz7MOW7Y" target="_blank">Song Choice: The Lakes- Taylor Swift </a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmrSJ0WQDsnL8SJwkDAWYZ4LdbvWvDFIgftIxQMgYhJzHmvF5dWh6kuA_jASPWO8bqAvHFwddyTFG2dJHOcMtQBHtvjw09ojALQsN4PoD3odnBmpwp__usWnyPvYoQAsQwDwjP6hu3GCJ/s2536/8A2E6FF2-ECC3-412C-B334-F5E14A698A61.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1240" data-original-width="2536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmrSJ0WQDsnL8SJwkDAWYZ4LdbvWvDFIgftIxQMgYhJzHmvF5dWh6kuA_jASPWO8bqAvHFwddyTFG2dJHOcMtQBHtvjw09ojALQsN4PoD3odnBmpwp__usWnyPvYoQAsQwDwjP6hu3GCJ/s320/8A2E6FF2-ECC3-412C-B334-F5E14A698A61.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>
<iframe frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://youtube.com/embed/GZ8Oz7MOW7Y" width="480"></iframe><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4M7c-JOnPdw" target="_blank">We are the World- Michael Jackson and Ensemble</a></div><div><br /></div>
<iframe frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://youtube.com/embed/4M7c-JOnPdw" width="480"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-22515363920481652242020-12-04T10:34:00.027-08:002022-04-13T09:16:23.931-07:0030 QUESTIONS About Covid 19/ Coronavirus 2020<p>One of the key signs of a free country, place or relationship, is the toleration of questions. Questions are not answers but they can bring about change, tolerance, acceptance and truth. The world is in conflict over opinions and differences, but there is harmony too. When questions CAN be asked without fear of judgement, anger, retaliation, or indoctrination - then we know we are in safe places. It is important for ourselves to be able to ask OURSELVES the hard or detailed questions about topics that are crucial around us BEFORE we take a full stance...and even then, it is important, above all else, to consider the questions.</p><p>(Disclaimer: Just because I put these on here does not mean I do not have my own answers to some of them. Nor does it mean I have completely set myself on ONE determining side. Some of these I am still questioning, others I would surprise many of my friends with where I stand, while still others I am fairly mainstream. Regardless, this is NOT about me but about the questions.)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTuH08F59j0hVJqr9rFoBEbZDGDHYEihrdJdetW-nC9h_3zyuvTYkbahdYTK-ZAd-fstNul8HiN3cBvbpFnJvPvlD4dF-uSFxbos_G8gR8fbWJxwfAatrN5TdpC2P27SkWhYMyPb9nbI7/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="165" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTuH08F59j0hVJqr9rFoBEbZDGDHYEihrdJdetW-nC9h_3zyuvTYkbahdYTK-ZAd-fstNul8HiN3cBvbpFnJvPvlD4dF-uSFxbos_G8gR8fbWJxwfAatrN5TdpC2P27SkWhYMyPb9nbI7/" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p><u>30 Questions on Covid- 19/ Coronavirus 2020:</u></p><p>1.) How do you feel about the Coronavirus situation in general? Do you have compassion for those whom are dying? Do you also have compassion for those that are healthy and need jobs to survive? Are there ways to honour both? </p><p>2.) Do you believe the government and healthcare has the best interests of the people at heart? If you believe that they believe they do- is that a separate issue?</p><p>3.) How does this compare to other pandemics in the past?</p><p>4.) How did past pandemics overcome their struggles? Is there a big difference between the Plague or Influenza of the 1900s and what we are dealing with now?</p><p>5.) How do you feel about statements like "It's only 6 months, It's only for Christmas, It's only until there is a vaccine"? In history, when statements like that were touted about, did things change permanently? What historical moments followed these movements? Were they followed up with more freedom or less? How long did it take for that country or situation to recover?</p><p>6.) Are most of the nurses you know in full support of current protocols or are many whispering their dissent but following the rules out of fear?</p><p>7.) Compare the hospital situation in most countries to the overwhelm of hospitals in previous years. Google it. Have hospitals often been understaffed, mismanaged and overworked before? Also have you talked to professionals who deal with the morgues? Do they usually, each season, have over capacity?</p><p>8.) Have you gone into a hospital in a overworked region only to find it mostly empty? How do you feel about staff being assigned to one person with a positive case in one ward at the expense of other departments?</p><p>9.) Are some care homes being neglected? Is it easy to make a clear statement on what is happening?</p><p>10.) Do you think it crosses a moral line to tell on your neighbour? Can loving your neighbour mean different rules in varying contexts?</p><p>11.) Do you think the amount of countries using emergency protocol since 911 has gone increasingly up? What does it mean if that continues to happen in regards to freedom and liberty? Or is it worth the exchange?</p><p>12.) Compare having to be tested to find out you have a virus to seeing the obvious signs everywhere (like in the Black Plague or Ebola) Does testing make you feel safer or less secure?</p><p>13.) A rule of good science is the requirement to look at the other side and it is never 100 percent settled. Do you feel that science is slanted in any way or is it giving it's due diligence?</p><p>14.) Are you pro or anti vaccine? If you are anti- vaccine have you read the past accounts of vaccines and their victories? If you are pro, do you listen to the stories of people who have had legitimate issues with vaccines and their stories? Are mandates ethical and a separate issue from vaccination? </p><p>15.) Have you ever researched the company of VIOXX ( for arthritis) which killed 55,000 plus people? Mereck pulled if off the market because they were sued so they went on to develop HPV vaccine Gardisal ( the same company- different information.) Do you find that there can be adverse side effects to drugs and vaccines or is it better not to question that? Do you think drug companies should be sued over vaccines? Do you think there should be more accountability? Do you prefer not to know the counter issues? Do you believe a vaccine and drugs can both save and destroy lives? Can it be BOTH/ AND? How would that change our approach to people who have differing viewpoints?</p><p>16.) Do you think it is possible that there is often an agenda on either side? Is one side more "righteous" in regards to vaccines or approaches to health care? What could an agenda look like?</p><p>17.) Are we asking who is developing these vaccines? What do they have to gain besides the obvious boon of curing people, if anything? </p><p>18.) Could vaccines be different for different people in regards to reactions or dangers? Is it possible that some vaccines are toxic while others change the world? Can it be a BOTH situation or is it clearly black and white?</p><p>19.) Have you researched the overall death rates in previous years (ex 2015, 2016, 2017) in comparison to the 2020 overall death rate? Do you know many people who had covid? How many of them only had a light cold ? How many had next to influenza symptoms but nothing more? How many were serious? Can this be comparable to other sicknesses? ( This changes from country to country and I am primarily asking Canadians in this question.) </p><p>20.) Could money be part of the equation at all in any of these situations? Even if the people who are down the lines honestly believe in the true nobility of all health care, could there be corruption at the top lines? Can we blame healthcare workers or politicians who are trying their best to make the situation better for coming up with protocols? Should we ask them to consider or is it better to leave the stressed alone? If we do feel the need to bring up counter points how can we do this in a considerate, kind way? Do they deal with opposite concerns of theirs, in a kind and considerate way? Or are the clear lines of what should not be discussed?</p><p>21.) How do you feel about the media content each day? Do news titles that constantly tell projected deaths as opposed to deaths happening, cause more fear or less? Is fear a useful tool in fostering compassion and trust?</p><p>22.) How would it look if each year the media reported each death and their causes? How often would we hear about Ecoli deaths or Influenza or the sicknesses we have lived with for years? Would we approach those topics differently? How is it comparable? How is it not comparable?</p><p>23.) Does the media have an agenda? What could it be?</p><p>24.) Are all anti maskers 'bad'? Are all maskers 'sheep'? Do these 'all or nothing' statements help foster an overall trusting and caring environment?</p><p>25.) How helpful are masks when cases have gone up since using them? Or is the argument that cases have gone up because people are not wearing masks at home social gatherings? Does the math add up? How do masks help? How do they hinder? Can you flexibly list three reasons on EACH side?</p><p>26.) Did Fauci once talk about how masks increased viral pneumonia in the Influenza of the 1900s? Are the bacterial load of breathing in one’s own bacteria in masks healthy for the wearer? Can face shields be just as effective for spittle in most circumstances so at least there is air flow? Why are they not allowed in places like shopping where it is possible to be distanced? What was the science on masks saying a few years ago? Do the contagions pass through most masks, and if so, what is the reason they are being worn besides medical instances in close proximity? Does fresh air build immunity? On a side note socially- Is it important to see facial cues and foster a sense of trust in community? Is it possible to lessen Covid without masks and physical distance and washing? Is it more of a safety blanket or signal? Does it foster a sense of community or are people being divided into 'rebels' and 'sheep'? </p><p>27.) Is it ok for anti mask rallies to be fined when the BLM rallies were not? What is the difference in these situations? Is there hypocrisy involved? Is it right for one protestor group to be favoured over another just because their causes are different? Where do we draw the lines? Is there a double standard according to whom is in charge at the time? What does this mean for our futures in any cause?</p><p>28.) Why are some Articles, Doctors and Scientists being censored or buried? Even if some of their arguments are flawed, is that a good way to foster balance, challenge or critical thinking? What does this say about the trust of most individuals to find their own way? Is this a form of control or is it an acceptable practice to weed out "wrong" sources? Why is this necessary now? </p><p>29.) Is choice an important factor in any decision? Most of our choices affect other people, and to be human is to make mistakes, sometimes deadly ones either way...When is it ok, if ever, to take choice away? How do you feel about peace officers enforcing laws against people in your home? How do you feel about fines being in place for breaking 'temporary' laws? Does this cross any charter of rights and freedoms? Is it ok to do this sometimes or can it turn into future encroachments on freedom? The government can do whatever they wish, but is it ok for us to question some of these laws and do we respect those that have the bravery to do so? How can we foster consideration of other people in our choices without enforcement?</p><p>30.) How are you taking care of yourself during these times of stress? How are you fostering community along with individualism? How can you show love but still hold your own opinions? How can you be flexible in thinking but still stand firm in your own ethics?</p><div class="widget Text" data-version="1" id="Text2" style="background-color: #fff7dc; color: #222222; font-family: Corsiva; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.4; margin: 30px 0px; min-height: 0px; position: relative;"><div class="widget-content"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand"; font-size: 32.4px;"><span style="color: #993399;">"I want to beg you</span><span style="color: #6666cc;">, as much as I can,</span> <span style="color: #339999;">dear sir,</span><span style="color: #cc9933;"> to be patient toward all that is unsolved </span><span style="color: #993399;">in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves</span><span style="color: #9999ff;"> like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. </span><span style="color: #cc66cc;">Do not now seek the answers, </span><span style="color: #00cccc;">which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.</span> <span style="color: #cc9933;">And the point is, to live everything. </span><span style="color: #993399;">Live the questions now.</span><span style="color: #006600;"> Perhaps you win then gradually, </span><span style="color: #ffccff;">without noticing it, </span><span style="color: #6633ff;">live along some distant day into the answer.</span><span style="color: #cc0000;"> To live the questions, it would seem, you have to first admit the questions to yourself. </span><span style="color: #ffcc33;">You have to admit the uncertainty in a world that doesn't value it.</span> <span style="color: #993399;">You have to be vulnerable in a world that considers it a weakness.</span><span style="color: #339999;"> You have to be you.</span><span style="color: #cc33cc;"> You have to live with a child's curiosity."</span><span style="color: #cc9933;">- Rainer Maria Rilke</span></span><p></p></div><div class="clear" style="clear: both;"></div><span class="widget-item-control" style="float: right; height: 20px; margin-top: -20px; position: relative; z-index: 10;"><span class="item-control blog-admin" style="display: inline;"><a class="quickedit" href="https://www.blogger.com/rearrange?blogID=2971383103866151443&widgetType=Text&widgetId=Text2&action=editWidget&sectionId=footer-3" rel="nofollow" style="color: #222222; cursor: pointer; opacity: 0.5; text-decoration-line: none;" target="configText2" title="Edit"><img alt="" height="18" src="https://resources.blogblog.com/img/icon18_wrench_allbkg.png" style="background-image: none; background: none; border: none; box-shadow: none; position: relative;" width="18" /></a><br /></span></span><div class="clear" style="clear: both;"></div></div><div class="widget Attribution" data-version="1" id="Attribution1" style="background-color: #fff7dc; color: #222222; font-family: Corsiva; font-size: 18px; line-height: 1.4; margin: 30px 0px 0px; min-height: 0px; position: relative;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s161/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s0/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Song Choice: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5TXXbd4Tjoc" target="_blank">The Show Must Go On- QUEEN</a></div><p>P.s. To be clear, I do believe that there is a more contagious virus happening and this is NOT an anti virus post. This actually isn’t about my opinions at all. <span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">These are rhetorical questions. Another one would be - if you have every single answer - are you ok with other people asking questions? Are you open to changing your mind on any or considering other viewpoints either way? </span></p><p><a href="https://trialsitenews.com/should-you-get-vaccinated/" target="_blank">https://trialsitenews.com/should-you-get-vaccinated/</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Update December 2021: My post on vaccine racial and economic discrimination; <a href="https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2021/10/vaccine-apartheid-who-is-it-really-who.html?m=1" target="_blank">https://worldwecreate.blogspot.com/2021/10/vaccine-apartheid-who-is-it-really-who.html?m=1</a></p><p>Another question: Why is the WHO and Oxford medical online not including information to at least protect immunity or boost it on their sites? Why is there not, at this point in the pandemic, information on what to do when you get Covid and ways to ease suffering? Often pneumonia cases are what kills or hospital protocol - yet most are told to stay home and suffer and get help only when it’s too late. In regular Influenza we are at least told to up our immunity, take vitamin C and other symptom easers, drink lots, rest and definitely go to the hospital at the first signs of distress or insist on a lung x ray if feeling heaviness… and we would get in right away. Why are very sick people told to wait, forced to drive to different towns for care , or immediately put on damaging drugs in some situations? Blaming hospital overload with current and past numbers does not fully add up in most areas. Instead of seeing the flaws in our health care system set up - why are we just blaming whomever is different in approach from us? Why are we not asking our systems for more infrastructure, revitalization and budget accountability? Maybe we need a new approach? Why are the unvaccinated being blamed when the cases have gone up in vaccinated people as well? Why have the variants directly coincided with the timing of more vx doses? Why has pneumonia gone up the longer society wears masks? </p><p><br /></p><p>Why are vaccine deaths being reported as Unknown cause on autopsy? (I have personally known two in my direct family as well as heard stories from other friends.) Part of this is because we haven’t had enough time for science to see the cause on autopsy to perhaps pick up on tiny clots - and many patients did not get a D Dimer test after vaccination… but why is the reporting unfair? Why are symptoms also going under reported. While there is the legitimate VAERS website, many don’t know about it? A close family member had facial paralysis right after their shot - luckily it eventually eased up but they were advised another dose would be dangerous. Why was their event not followed up and not put on their chart? Why did other people report the same story? Why does this person now have to argue with each new Dr. they see when the Pharmacist and Dr. witnessing the event clearly stated another dose would be dangerous? Are we so blinded by our own agendas that we are not seeing the full picture? Is there less time for data on these newer vaccines as opposed to vaccines in the past? ( See my link on vaccines above…) </p><p>In past history, without social media, if this virus was in your community eventually, you would have noticed more serious aspects, thought of it as a very bad flu, gotten treatment, hoped for a cure but it would not be what it is touted about in the news. Especially in isolated or rural areas. How does media hinder this situation ? </p><p><br /></p><p>Why are Drs getting in trouble for recommending ways to bolster immunity? Most of us are smart enough to know it’s not in the place of hand washing, time tested vaccinations or proper health care - so why does it cause such a fuss? Why are Drs. whom are legitimately helping people in unconventional ways being fired when we already have staff shortages? Especially if they are knowledgeable and respected in their fields? Can’t most of us decipher that vitamins may not save us but dosing can aid in bolstering immunity and body function? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignY5P2sEnjfT_14VXC1AJVMyU9V9wz77LX5OtDZn-MRT-mWJdUnmVVyToHG3WVgahCsZxzo125o51OepN71xnui2wH_JyoQz7kkrCjnpu3ybHyhr_AUtMCyliG2KkqeO2XkDQuB3ynsmK/s640/5E5E1BDE-7AFC-4688-8CB8-A43FAD86A9D6.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="466" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEignY5P2sEnjfT_14VXC1AJVMyU9V9wz77LX5OtDZn-MRT-mWJdUnmVVyToHG3WVgahCsZxzo125o51OepN71xnui2wH_JyoQz7kkrCjnpu3ybHyhr_AUtMCyliG2KkqeO2XkDQuB3ynsmK/s320/5E5E1BDE-7AFC-4688-8CB8-A43FAD86A9D6.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"><br /></span>
<iframe frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5TXXbd4Tjoc" style="background-image: url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/5TXXbd4Tjoc/hqdefault.jpg);" width="459"></iframe></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-66306350769989600582020-08-06T12:00:00.019-07:002024-02-08T15:08:45.573-08:00Another Witch Hunt <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Zl4QtsYHbrfRiZiIqitoc2jhKW_9x7RE2jXR49uJkIGwmQT5Gbkic0FkmATgCm_xq0FLq3uzP4Wnezcxq7QyFqixcND-L2eA1dXjpZxH32_DJZAolKniVujfYL8qE59EsTpwvnZoqoLH/s2048/FullSizeRender.jpeg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Zl4QtsYHbrfRiZiIqitoc2jhKW_9x7RE2jXR49uJkIGwmQT5Gbkic0FkmATgCm_xq0FLq3uzP4Wnezcxq7QyFqixcND-L2eA1dXjpZxH32_DJZAolKniVujfYL8qE59EsTpwvnZoqoLH/s640/FullSizeRender.jpeg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In the mid nineties my father was embroiled in the latest town scandal in which he received hundreds of letters because he allowed the Christian rock band "Petra" to play in the</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> l<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;">ocal college church</span> </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">in BLUE JEANS. He had threats to his job and hell fire . I did not know it at the time, but apparently I was scrutinized and attacked in some letters too...</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> <span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"> <span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;">For how</span></span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"> </span>I dressed in school or whom I associated with and how I conducted myself. My father loved Petra. He played it all the time when I was a child in the 80's. They were cutting edge in the Christian community at the time. Their long hair, ripped blue jeans and 'rock' music rocked the boat in multiple ways.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Since I have been little, I have witnessed many hunts on people due to many things. Growing up in a Christian community there were those who focused on grace and a smaller number who focused on hunting down sin and looking anywhere but themselves. Hypocrisy ran alongside compassion. I had to learn from an early age where to put my value, what words or people I should put stock into, and what hypocrisy looked like. Was it truly the devil in sheeps clothing on those accused as wolves? The outcasts or different or such? Or were the wolves the ones spreading the rumours, taking gossip or here-say and trying to make it truth, and destroying people's lives in the name of "God or goodness"?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">My dad loved to blast this song called, "Witch Hunt" that still gets stuck in my head. Petra mostly put it on an album in response to all the Televangelists (at the time) talking about how 'Rock and Roll' had hidden messages of "devil worship." In the 80's there was a huge focus on Satanism and calling out anything that could be remotely aligned with what people thought was "bad." Many innocent people were thrown under the bandwagon in the name of "justice." Lives were ruined or degraded in the name of Jesus. Those who did such things thought they were on the right side of ethics...many of them probably still have such self righteous thoughts. Those who had zero doubts of their morality were the worst. Those who did not look at the log in their own eyes before pulling out the speck in others, perpetuated the worst of the hunts.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">"Everybody look there's a new bandwagon in town<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Hop on board and let the wind carry you around<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Seems like there's not enough to keep us busy 'till the Lord comes back."</span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">There will always be another bandwagon to climb on to. Many are worthy in a sense, but anything can be taken to extremes. I got in a lot of trouble as a teenager with some of my friends for standing against aspects of "Christianity." I also got in trouble for speaking for grace or not talking about certain people. I often felt I couldn't win and spent hours alone in my room, detoxing with candles and music. But I am grateful for these experiences. While I would doubt myself often, that healthy questioning led to a solid sense of whom I was and what I stood for. I also learned that I wanted to be open minded when it came to anything... good or bad, before I took any side. I realized the people who hurt my family most, were people who did things in the name of "goodness" and "God." The friend who committed suicide was jaded and gave in to lies</span><span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> <span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;">of what worth was. Of what made a worthy existence.</span> I realized I never wanted to be so "right" that I was so wrong. I also didn't want to give in to any opinion that was the opposite of LIFE. By life, I mean, anything that is true, beautiful, noble, kind, merciful yet boundary filled and full of love. </span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">"Don Quixote's gotta have another windmill to attack<br />Another witch hunt looking for evil wherever we can find it<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Off on a tangent, hope the Lord won't mind it."</span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Mass hysteria and community panic led to the Witch Hunts of the 1400s- 1700s. Are we repeating them in our own modern way? The stories are absolutely horrifying. Women were targeted but men also received some of the torture and death. Those who were different...midwives, herbalists, the disabled, unmarried, poor...were often the accused. It was unjust. It was repulsive and yet many "upstanding", "morally inclined" "good citizens" in varied communities were the perpetuators of injustice in the name of justice. They were upheld as pillars of society "cleansing" the world of those who are "wrong." </span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">There WAS a minority of people who WERE evil. Who practiced disgusting rituals and did indeed need justice. But it was such a small minority compared to the evils that were done to the people who were accused unjustly. Most of the fear was unfounded and fed by fantasy gossip. But fear is one of the toughest forces in the world to fight. Many terrible things are done from responses of fear in the name of all that is "just/ right."</span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Persecution mentality reigned and combined with mass hysteria, death from plagues and wars, and a general state of malevolence in the majority was disguised as righteousness. How did this mass delusion happen? How did the insanity of torturing a woman until she either confessed or died show that she was indeed of the devil? How did this become accepted as standard procedure with citizens either supporting by ignoring it or cheering it on? (If she died during torture she was deemed innocent but if she survived she was burnt at the stake or worse. Either way being accused was basically a death sentence.) </span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">"Another witch hunt, takin' a break from all our gospel labor<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />On a crusade but we forgot our saber."</span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In Christianity there is a concept of "gospel labour" which is missionary work etc. Much of what Christians have done in the world is good. Many started the anti slavery movements globally, fought for the minority rights in places that were not even their own, and spread messages of love and tolerance. </span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Unfortunately, many also joined empty crusades in the "name of goodness." Instead of focusing on the goodness they could plant, they focused on the bad they could correct, take away or sanction/ censor/ educate out of/ cancel in others. The irony of their actions was not understood. The hypocrisy was a label put on anyone but themselves. Is this the type of person I want to be? Is it whom you want to be, no matter what belief system you are a part of?</span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">"There's a new way to spend all our energies<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />We're up in arms instead of down on our knees<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Walkin' over dollars trying to find another dime<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Never mind the souls 'cause we really haven't got the time."</span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In my twenties, my time was spent healing from aspects of my upbringing. In many ways, I had a lot to be grateful for and part of the process was recognizing the ever present "AND/ BOTH." Unfortunately, wounds and trauma can take a lifetime to process but when we allow them to be our main story, the damage is more pronounced. There is a fine line where we learn to BE all that we are, but also fight against the wounds and accept what there is to accept and move forward. Those who are unable to have the support to do so or the ability or choose to be stuck, suffer more wounds and give more wounds to the world. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Look to nature. The wounded animal can be the most dangerous. It’s imperative to safely transport it to a place of healing before it wounds itself and others more in its confusion.</span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">There were injustices done to myself and my family of loved ones in life. They demanded attention. But now I am thankful for the lessons they created. I can't change what was done, but I can take some good from it. That is my empowerment. That is where I choose to spend my energy.</span></span></span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;">I hope we see SOULS and giv</span></span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: trebuchet;">e</span></span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: trebuchet;"> the seeing of souls grace filled time.</span></span></div><div><span face="" style="background-color: #e5e5ea; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">It is only in my thirties that I have discovered a similar hypocrisy in the non religious environments/people I am part of. That was honestly a shock to me. From about age 25- 35 the non religious friends and environments healed me. In a way, it was so refreshing that no wrong could truly be done in my mind. I found so much excitement, acceptance, and healing from my new communities. It was akin to being newly in love and the first blush of exhilaration, strength, and entwined vulnerability. There is little time for the mundane or daily living. All things fall away in the face of new love. Becoming out of balance, if prolonged, is a large danger.</span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">But as in any long standing marriage can attest to, as we age into things, time unravels the initial endorphins. While that is also real and a needed stage, the next phase in marriage takes it deeper. It is natural to mellow into the relationship. A new joy of comfortability emerges. But we also see the flaws we were blinded to before and have to learn to re balance. A successful partnership learns to work with the differences and similarities. </span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In the last three years, I have faced a steep learning curve in the non christian community. A place that I found healing in has now caused large disruptions. I am seeing a similar hypocrisy. I am seeing patterns that mimic the community I grew up in. And I am realizing there truly is nothing new under the sun. I am realizing humanity takes on similar aspects of belief, no matter what the position, and there are the same types of zeal played out on a different stage. It's a constant battle for me to face my own zealous nature, mistakes made, and give myself both grace and boundaries before I implement them on others. Therapy helps with this and thankfully my children and husband and copious amounts of alone time, off line. But it's hard.</span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">What do we spend our energy on? Do we spend it more on advocating for change without activating in our lives? By activating I do not mean participating in violent marches or dissolving other people's reputations, however strong the evidence is. By activating in life, I mean BEING off our screens and accepting people around us. Looking for the poor, downtrodden, depressed or isolated in our communities and giving in some way...our time if we can, or some of our garden extra's, or even a kind word or spreading kind thoughts. Are we spending our energy sending out goodness instead of accusations?</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br />"So send out the dogs and tally ho<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />Before we sleep<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;">tonight</span><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>we've got miles to go<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />No one is safe, no stone's left unturned<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />And we won't stop until somebody gets burned."<br /></span></span></div><div><span style="--font-size: 13px !important; text-shadow: none; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: x-large;">Read that last lyric again. Does it sound familiar in this time in history? Often we think we are the hunted but what if we, by a strange twist of perspective, we are the hunters? What if by thinking we are the prey we become the predators? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Do we stop to sleep and rest which enables our perspective taking? Do we harm safety in the name of safety? Are we protecting things that have multiple layers to them? Are we forgetting that the true evil of people often hides? Devious, manipulative, cruel, dismissive, d<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;">iscriminat</span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">ory, </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">hateful organizations/people often pull the strings of larger components from the dark corners. Sometimes, it is not until centuries later that we are shocked to find </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet; text-size-adjust: auto;">truth</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-family: trebuchet; text-size-adjust: auto;"> under the rubble of “good intentions.”</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">While it is good to strive for justice, love mercy, and engage in compassionate acceptance, often on "hunts" people are so concerned about condemning others for trivial matters that they forget the larger wrongs. The wrongs that are devious and gleefully taking pleasure in the fact that many are falling for the wrong reasons. Instead of being active and becoming what is believed to be right, it's easier to throw shade around and cancel another person.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Personally I don’t want to spend my energy looking for evil wherever I can find it. When it happens to me or my loved ones that is more than enough. Life brings disaster, injustice, grief and anxiety naturally to our door or it breaks it in. We rise and fight when it’s required. But other times it is not there. It’s what we choose to open our door for that says what we are about. I want to choose to look for goodness and shut the door on the evil I can, but definitely not seek it out in the name of all that is holy. I did that once as a teen and it was a disaster. Hopefully that lesson stays<span style="background-color: #fff2cc;">.</span></span></span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">Why are we requiring contrite apologies for people whose only mistake was living and surviving in the times they were put in? Where celebrities won roles and took the job honoured to be playing a part like Nina Simone but now have to confess to their “sins”? Fans banning the brilliance of J.K Rowling (Harry Potter) books due to personal statements? How have we come to this? How is this making the world better and more tolerable?</span></span></div><div><span face="" style="background-color: #e5e5ea; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">There ARE things we must fight for. But often they are right in front of our face. They are the moments when we bravely speak into a true moment of friendship. When we choose kindness over exploding or allowing our emotions to reign. It’s when we consider differences and invite them to our table in understanding instead of correcting. It’s that moment when we have enough change to give to the homeless even if we think it may not be used appropriately. It’s also that moment when we don’t give to the homeless because we only have enough grocery money for our children. So instead we send out good vibes and prayers and make our grocery money count. It’s when we see someone being mocked by our own friends or family - and even if we see merit in some of the things they say- we decide to leave the conversation, kindly change the subject or address it (but gracefully.) Its those moments when we can kindly diffuse a situation, by showing that it may not be ignorance, or intolerance, or brutality, but simply another difference. It may have been another time of history when the words we outlaw now, <i>WERE</i> a form of advocacy. Yes, we need to evolve, grow and change in our language usage too, but showing that it’s not all</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> <span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;">malicious </span>intent speaks to fear. The less fear</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">, </span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">the less disruptive violence happens.</span></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-size: x-large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">The more we can calm fear instead of escalate it, the less witch hunts will happen in the name of “justice.”</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span></span></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">In fighting against monsters are we creating larger, more nefarious monsters? Are we actually hiding the true monsters on our smaller witch hunts of dissection and cancellation?</span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 13px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>You can read more about this - The subject matter can get intense. I chose links that were less graphic than some I have read (in which I had to try not to throw up the details.) </span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet;">The </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">post can apply to so many aspects and nuances of culture right now that touches all forms of life.</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-size: 13px;"> </span><a href="https://www.britannica.com/event/Salem-witch-trials" target="_blank">https://www.britannica.com/event/Salem-witch-trials</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span><a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/witchcraft/The-witch-hunts" target="_blank">https://www.britannica.com/topic/witchcraft/The-witch-hunts</a></span><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-size-adjust: auto;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: inherit;">To those who personally love me- if I ever do this to you or others ( witch hunt) please gently remind me of larger issues of love and justice. I know I’ve been both the minority and majority . Both make mistakes and both make the world better. Help me spread love.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">*Yes, if you notice, I do have a lot of good witchy imagery. It started with Galinda in Wizard of Oz when I was young and then in adulthood - my love of the Broadway play "Wicked" in which I could relate to Elphaba during my Autism diagnosis and it spiralled from there... Also, witches do not believe in the devil or satan so getting Witches/Wicca mixed up with Satanism is vastly missing the mark. They are two different belief systems/ lifestyles.*</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FjZtYteCBVM">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FjZtYteCBVM</a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G8I-05bV-E0" target="_blank">https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G8I-05bV-E0</a><div><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">Song Choice witch hunt - Petra :<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18CDRT7d_PM&app=desktop" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18CDRT7d_PM&app=desktop</a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ablaze - Alanis Morisette </span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/18CDRT7d_PM" width="480"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971383103866151443.post-29745812112271213052020-06-30T13:00:00.012-07:002022-06-20T12:49:48.155-07:00Home. Being Canadian. Summer Solstice.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Midsummer sweetness is about savouring the celebratory aspects of life. Living to the fullest while acknowledging the life doesn't "owe" anyone anything- so the delights are that much more profound. Sometimes people or society ask us to hold back our fierce love of life and we silence ourselves or try to squeeze ourselves into tiny compartments of BEING. We forget it's our ONE life. Being grateful does not negate hardship. If we can, living fiercely is our best gift to LIFE. I try to find the ripeness in life, amongst health scares, oven fires, mini house fire scares, water furnace break downs, anxiety, world issues, weather conundrums, extended family struggles, marriage work and children's needs. Inside the energy of beauty, love, joy and the focus on the positive is where I want to aim to spend most of my mentality when I can. I will readily admit I am in a legitimate depression and struggling with some things, and at first, it took a lot of effort to do anything or see the good. But after a daily habit of the "next right thing"...I still work in energy deficit...but my ability to see the beautiful is getting more poignant and my fortitude to rise to the energetic occasion is taking less time. There is struggle. There is beauty. There is trauma. There is grace.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We all have different desires, meanings and relationships to celebrate. For myself: It's knowing my chosen partner is beside me every night and taking joy in his sleeping face and being in constant awe of his facial perfection. (Also trying not to be envious of his looks as he doesn't even have to try!)</div>
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The daily joy is found in the preparation for Summer Solstice Day! One of my favourite afternoons this summer was preparing Rosemary Gluten Free Biscuits, Herb Roast, Fruit infused Juice, and Summer Solstice cake with my children.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">I have taken a hermitage lately. I am off of most social media (deleting apps and checking in only once a month for the summer.) My creativity has gone into overdrive again which it tends to do after built up stress or when I actually have more time to myself. I love the little things in life. I love gardening (especially with my roses), hugging trees, re decorating, dusting crystals, preparing baking, ordering solar lights online, shopping for groceries, snuggling my children, loving my husband and taking back roads empty for miles with the music blasting, walking to my parents for quick hello, visiting old and new friends via email or in person when time permits, and talking to kind costumer service agents. (That last one is weird but A LOT of my time lately has been dealing with costumer service in all industries due to break downs and orders etc and I am finding that I am enjoying many of the kind people which is another shock!)</span></div>
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I decided that we needed to build a few structures in our backyard including a stone wall. We had a bunch of free stone we need to use up so why not? Luckily my husband is excellent at literally building my dreams. I decorate, stain, and help with whatever parts I can and then read to him while he works. My children will participate in heavy lifting and learning how to use all the tools etc. I LOVE working together. My family may grumble at times but I think they mostly like it too. Probably not as much as me. People often ask me how I have fun. THIS IS MY FUN:</div>
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Since I discovered oil based paint pens, my eldest son ( he is my drawing artist) and I have a new list of things to do!</div>
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I also love my Seasonal Holidays. My sister usually joins us for the marking of these occasions. This time my mother and her crafted summer wreaths for her contribution to the feasting day. </div>
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My mother knowingly joked that my house was too full inside/decked out that I had to move outside. Actually, that was exactly it. I wanted to decorate and I could not find a free space that I felt like changing, so I looked outside and thankfully it's a season where I can expand the magic. I now have five mirrors in my backyard. I love it!</div>
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We have had an unusual rainy season with loads of mosquitoes. Our town also experienced unusual winter kill on many of our trees and plants so working outside has been interesting! However, we have found work arounds and bits of time between weird weather patterns. The last few weeks I have concentrated on paint/ stain touch ups, solar light and rose maintenance, weeding, transplanting and creating a fairy land of differing traditions into our landscape. My husband found two maple trees on discount begging to be taken home so we now have our Canadian symbols sitting on either side of our front steps. I was so upset that our little pine trees died but the Maple trees are their own beauty. I am finding that what feels like a curse can often be a blessing and what can feel like a blessing sometimes is a curse. When my son woke to the sound of our water being pumped out of our water boiler, I thought curse. Turns out it was good it happened and we had a quick, fairly cheap fix in what could have been way worse. I love the town we live in and how each business is attainable, friendly and unconcerned about the Covid rules which do not make full sense or foster true kindness, but concerned for overall health of each citizen (which is how it should be.) It's such a beautiful aspect to just BE. (Of course hand washing and light social distancing happens but it's business as usual and many people are living out rich lives due to this mentality. We minister to the sick when possible and protect the innocent but still live.) My kids have had their friends over and are happily adjusting back to life in community.<br />
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Tomorrow is Canada day. I loved that DISNEY PLUS honoured it in their own small way:</div>
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Seeing the Maple leaf always makes me smile. I adore my country. Some say it is a country that lacks identity- but hasn't each country in history struggled to find their way in their first 100 years of establishment? When we are children we have in born identity but we also have much of our identity to discover, grow, and grapple with. But to give a child no sense of identity or to say they don't have one can be misplaced and dangerous. We need to remind children of the traits they show, while giving them the possibility and freedom to develop a sense of place within and without. While Canada may have some past mishaps and has it's own con list, overall, it is a place that has offered freedom to most who have sought it out. Most countries also have had to grapple with first discovers, Indigenous peoples, and the tricky nuances of that. Whenever I get confused, I just remind myself to treat everyone with respect and dignity, that there is essentially one people group- the human race- and it is essential that we all treat each other with that value. We need to rise rooted, even if we feel displaced or injustices have been done. We also need to reconcile and heal in our individual relationships. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Canada is a place that gives wide open spaces and camera free drives for hours. The landscape changes drastically an hours drive away. There are gorgeous streams, mountains, prairies, and badlands. We are free to worship as we choose, school as we choose, and love whom we choose. Our businesses provide prompt service in emergencies or when our power or utilities go out. Our weather may be crazy and we may have 8 months of winter, but the seasons are that much more poignant. We have mostly equal opportunities for all who seek to work or BE. Our history has some injustices, and healing takes time. I do not have all the answers in that regard... but as far as country history goes, the years of remedying injustice equal out to far less than most other places in the world, some of which took centuries or more to change. This is also because we are one of the newest countries in that regard. Canada is still a baby. It's important to celebrate the good and the victories because if we only focus on trauma, pessimism and grief, anger and sadness and bitterness take prominent root. While all the above are legitimate emotions and phases in life, to stay inside them is a travesty too. Otherwise where is the hope? What is there to LIVE for? What is the point of healing if we can not grasp, in gratitude, the good while also making space for trauma healing?</div>
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My grandpa is Indigenous. He grew up with some racism/ discrimination. He went unjustly to jail for punching a man who committed a grave crime against my grandmother. Yet, he still loves Canada and what he was able to have in this country. He still respects the police force- he did blame the one bad cop, terrible guard, and the one discriminatory judge, but he liked many of the other friends on the force that he made during his time. (I do not know if I would have the same balance if I went through what he did but I admire it.) Does he have issues with some aspects and carry trauma from his experiences? Yes, but I love what he has taught me about the place that I live. I love that he still takes great pride in his country. It was an example of both the pros and cons of my country from a young age. He gave a realistic, sad glimpse but provided a larger story full of determination, opportunity, and work ethic for me to honour and cherish.</div>
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On Father's Day we stopped in to see him and my father, while providing breakfast for my husband's dad. These men all helped us become who we are today. We are thankful for their roles in our life. It is not always easy to see eye to eye on some aspects and we all have our histories, but there is great beauty in so many aspects of our relationships too. </div>
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My dad cracked up when we gave him two trees, one of which was very Charlie Brown ish and my son serendipitously drew a Charlie Brown card (purely coincidence but my father noticed the similarities right away!)</div>
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I love that near where I live tacky dinosaurs are on Grocery store walls. I love that there is disinfectant everywhere but in most places there are also pretty lax rules again. I love that people are semi careful but also living, smiling and greeting each other again. I love that in one store I see people from all different countries, skin tones and abilities, being polite and kind to one another. It's not the exception but the norm. Cruelty is the exception. How are we shaping a better society if we maintain a dialogue that the majority are racists, cruel, bigotry, ignorant people? While it is a sad fact that some people do in fact struggle with these terrible states, look around the grocery store to see the diversity and respect. As Mister Rogers often stated, "Look to the helpers." Look around at the helpers and your faith in humanity may be restored slightly. Is that not a heart healthy perception? It's tougher to do, perhaps, and takes time and attention to notice, but off of social media, people are not all ignorant racists or uneducated bigots. Most people want other people to be treated with respect and kindness. Just be a good human being and circulate the conversations that install hope and beauty in the world, while compassionately dealing with the trauma that may come up in healing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRp38r8-M5K43hEetu5qbqijUNU8ufeWtzxJo663IWXUVKcwHFeFg34FZPxFwsTp_O76oguN6h17hU7C8k6oytyqLR6TPUniIQV45CwYPkg-znpjktOUSd_CKRNN15h20V3SrSo6UoN508/s1600/IMG_7667.jpeg"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRp38r8-M5K43hEetu5qbqijUNU8ufeWtzxJo663IWXUVKcwHFeFg34FZPxFwsTp_O76oguN6h17hU7C8k6oytyqLR6TPUniIQV45CwYPkg-znpjktOUSd_CKRNN15h20V3SrSo6UoN508/s320/IMG_7667.jpeg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIb7MFckEl-5zyGKEuqB3Pc8H8TVeNOAgoy9_GquVMOLr2vZNIOGLZDjcZlX3RwlFbVk2aRUq3PVWIBmod0bLQHZ1mGNJ2a53K2Ute93Le8d-3suvUkAcEMxHDgsN0JNd8tGkpJP_6ePJ/s1600/IMG_7833.jpeg"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIb7MFckEl-5zyGKEuqB3Pc8H8TVeNOAgoy9_GquVMOLr2vZNIOGLZDjcZlX3RwlFbVk2aRUq3PVWIBmod0bLQHZ1mGNJ2a53K2Ute93Le8d-3suvUkAcEMxHDgsN0JNd8tGkpJP_6ePJ/s320/IMG_7833.jpeg" width="240" /></a><br />
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I love people but I struggle with people. Thus, I am hermiting into my surroundings. Because I see more good than bad with my own eyes, which is vastly different from what media/news is feeding me. I have had my share of strife, cruelty and personal differences in the last month, but I still see the beauty of the human spirit everywhere.<br />
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While we are seeing more people than we did for months, it is still with plenty of alone time in between. I am allowing myself to sleep longer, skip social stuff, and stay off world news. I am still detoxing. But good food, laughter, nightly tuck ins and fabulous birthday celebrations help.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMQMc_CnPAhfRY6jWnjzG4Z3zCVagHEH6GLkldhMcA65fOP4ltWVRRTVXC00rg2imUaEp3tycOKjUS0qmW43ifcrQhGaN3BrElSQ_l5jCSCgHMgkRdZhIB6Dt3RhPX4HfduPeymV1loNP/s1600/EF0739E7-C8FD-40D8-AE91-2332CEE1E981.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMQMc_CnPAhfRY6jWnjzG4Z3zCVagHEH6GLkldhMcA65fOP4ltWVRRTVXC00rg2imUaEp3tycOKjUS0qmW43ifcrQhGaN3BrElSQ_l5jCSCgHMgkRdZhIB6Dt3RhPX4HfduPeymV1loNP/s320/EF0739E7-C8FD-40D8-AE91-2332CEE1E981.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGg1kZ2u6MDGvg1K52DJjXaE2iUXbUIVuQ1oJSMLNt-8T6be76xQuWSIpoQtNm0T53ly7RUWYi68-8Vjnm-haOwy4tls2dR1RViaWcXpGrkM9McKQqWeUuwVJWRXM0FAljgBUEC_QBhrUN/s1600/IMG_8327.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGg1kZ2u6MDGvg1K52DJjXaE2iUXbUIVuQ1oJSMLNt-8T6be76xQuWSIpoQtNm0T53ly7RUWYi68-8Vjnm-haOwy4tls2dR1RViaWcXpGrkM9McKQqWeUuwVJWRXM0FAljgBUEC_QBhrUN/s320/IMG_8327.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxmunjc8aQd-M0DDSo5Rb_MR0FcXRBc2OQwFkSFnapDaA7GEPUKf7oSI5XDEKF4HoJIKc45U51LsWvaL9YOymkD8gt9D6Yx4AzQS9fxiCTn_iNtVbTgs1UMFn7H6jVU4Bi8bZPECVpKQW/s1600/4DB721B9-9FA2-4A18-8B42-A63A30FCEF70.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxmunjc8aQd-M0DDSo5Rb_MR0FcXRBc2OQwFkSFnapDaA7GEPUKf7oSI5XDEKF4HoJIKc45U51LsWvaL9YOymkD8gt9D6Yx4AzQS9fxiCTn_iNtVbTgs1UMFn7H6jVU4Bi8bZPECVpKQW/s320/4DB721B9-9FA2-4A18-8B42-A63A30FCEF70.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZrMl-ES11aRFJyaCuIhga7FpkLxtZPS-GbKyQFLJ4MuoXJFtkReJbI1G1M7WQJFsbB4MwnWZn_hhJN6nQvTHmh7c0mifUEySHaoerb2sm2I1bXkMR87WxpSICzZxie3ewIcTxsLD-HmI/s1600/F63B9501-7D21-4402-83DA-E74D3F1D7D9A.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZrMl-ES11aRFJyaCuIhga7FpkLxtZPS-GbKyQFLJ4MuoXJFtkReJbI1G1M7WQJFsbB4MwnWZn_hhJN6nQvTHmh7c0mifUEySHaoerb2sm2I1bXkMR87WxpSICzZxie3ewIcTxsLD-HmI/s320/F63B9501-7D21-4402-83DA-E74D3F1D7D9A.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Beauty is in the moment that my grandmother goes through her jewellery with my daughter and tries to hide her tears because she has a few more months to live. It's when they both lovingly touch each piece. Or when my daughter comes back home and bawls because she remembers Grandma wearing and cherishing it all and hates that she has to part with it now to get ready for her next phase of the life cycle. Beauty is in Grandma making sure each of her grandkids and her last living daughter have what they need for memories.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51zwsorE1Ypwrhy3T5ZajoM7IJvTsSjwf-YDVjfsfk7lEeAFzECgN3od5o8W2SdaLAkirRQ06IbPLQ4T6-L7-BokDBHmNG7ZRYz4qj4DuiTrXEFJB0uarDvk-mpIpW2MvxEIdxKp4FrzL/s1600/IMG_7708.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51zwsorE1Ypwrhy3T5ZajoM7IJvTsSjwf-YDVjfsfk7lEeAFzECgN3od5o8W2SdaLAkirRQ06IbPLQ4T6-L7-BokDBHmNG7ZRYz4qj4DuiTrXEFJB0uarDvk-mpIpW2MvxEIdxKp4FrzL/s320/IMG_7708.jpeg" width="319" /></a></div>
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Beauty is my mother showing up with lunch ingredients on the last day of the month because our fridge and pantry are always empty on the last three day’s ( we wait for our cheque to put our bank account back up from forty cents till next month again.) It's her enlisting my daughter to help because she knows I had 4 hours sleep. They allow me to "blog rest" while they work.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PqdYkDVfcYBtPzocWw7o4S0JRyZlicoy4bOqDZ8RgNUnhqFYIRPrrYJ6gfie6hTHRDPNIGlceuczQDkYyvXsbvwzqBq1DTdJ-4Mjh4tlUxp3XsFNa9vGwbAj6nqML8wHDvpHvtmKk0g-/s1600/IMG_8626.jpeg"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1PqdYkDVfcYBtPzocWw7o4S0JRyZlicoy4bOqDZ8RgNUnhqFYIRPrrYJ6gfie6hTHRDPNIGlceuczQDkYyvXsbvwzqBq1DTdJ-4Mjh4tlUxp3XsFNa9vGwbAj6nqML8wHDvpHvtmKk0g-/s320/IMG_8626.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Beauty is in my therapist sending me the poem "If" by Rudyard Kipling (*below) because it reminds him of me. He encourages me to frame it on my wall to remind me not to lose my both sides perspectives ,even if it gives me more grief from others...it's worth it for my life.</div>
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Beauty is in my family. Sometimes I forget to truly look at their faces. To notice the freckles, smile crinkles, gap teeth or pointy smile...all parts of them I love. Aspects individual to them that remind me of the fragility and strength of life.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9I-GgaNo5LF5tQ24Do5jS7dXposIlhtw34EQXA5Z1w5JHamVTpl7JiNpK1PCwiDqvtN9_FEO5gpuKwUar5UqGE0-jvE_HSVQmN7U2phLigi4KL8DCRfcDEY7Axqz7N3B9Wv3sF5pH8J2/s1600/IMG_7904.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9I-GgaNo5LF5tQ24Do5jS7dXposIlhtw34EQXA5Z1w5JHamVTpl7JiNpK1PCwiDqvtN9_FEO5gpuKwUar5UqGE0-jvE_HSVQmN7U2phLigi4KL8DCRfcDEY7Axqz7N3B9Wv3sF5pH8J2/s320/IMG_7904.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLvXtIfXpTqWN8s-RDtGSDiRTBu7zi65TzxZOfIS_C9zvCXoSIlQ6eE5u7YP7CGJ4iru71KB-hLH_PLWgbHOfd93ZccB_PH30uyNjvz-5hu6b69fC-jeXkH6QX1qMchhMV1XBj_Niie5r/s1600/IMG_8537.JPG"><br /></a><span style="text-align: center;">Beauty is preparing my body and treating it as part of myself. It's allowing rest days but also remembering to adorn, pamper and even restrict at times for an outcome I wish to achieve. It's to see myself as part of nature. Beauty is to see my body as not just a vessel but a large aspect of the way I am in the world and to honour it.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKG2YCKzHVWABMWRaoSkk1F0aHlks_PwXQzqsFqUYsWtwSQFwR8l3heBy5nGu-xVsjhfdka0ElhQaeItkPOFbXPX2jClp3VoD_CRTg8Y2S4WNlloU6TuCgm_XkkLGt-fKc-oBt00uS8aq/s1600/IMG_8614.jpeg" style="text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKG2YCKzHVWABMWRaoSkk1F0aHlks_PwXQzqsFqUYsWtwSQFwR8l3heBy5nGu-xVsjhfdka0ElhQaeItkPOFbXPX2jClp3VoD_CRTg8Y2S4WNlloU6TuCgm_XkkLGt-fKc-oBt00uS8aq/s320/IMG_8614.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Beauty is my window crystals always begging me to take a moment and stare. I watch them sparkle. I look beyond them at the ever changing sky. And I find that I am breathing deeply again. My eyes fill with gratitude. I can't seem to get enough and at the same time it is everything.</div>
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To my fellow Canadians: Happy Canada Day- Savour the parts of home you love! To the rest of the world: May you have aspects of Summer that bring you HOME.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaAfypEeqJt81O6lPuRRWBKlbaOByKWopzixlzClpsFCK9eL31MCdH78PH5dxepYw72AfQHKQcgXNST3lEsGX18xXH2qx61gjOJ1Pz2dkaSuCwSOAIvtLK3aJW9Llvytvek1PQ-6mr5NQM/s1600/temp+%25283%2529.png" /></a></div>
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Song Choice: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_a7rfkmZ_M" target="_blank">Blossom- James Taylor </a> (This song has been on repeat lately. Love it.)</div>
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<span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">I<span style="background-color: #fff2cc;">f...</span></span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Rudyard Kipling</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can keep your head when all about you</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">But make allowance for their doubting too;</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Or being hated, don't give way to hating,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And treat those two impostors just the same;</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools:</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can make one heap of all your winnings</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And lose, and start again at your beginnings</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And never breathe a word about your loss;</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">To serve your turn long after they are gone,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And so hold on when there is nothing in you</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If all men count with you, but none too much;</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">If you can fill the unforgiving minute</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Optima-Italic; font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;" /><span face="Optima-Italic" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son! </span></span><br />
<span face="Optima-Italic" style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span>
<span face="Optima-Italic" style="background-color: #fff2cc; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 16px; text-size-adjust: auto;">(Written at a time when women were treated differently- luckily that has changed so just translate. Words still are amazing and sentiments.)</span></div>
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