tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74321184463720735482024-03-21T13:23:14.599-04:00The Passion Spill~*Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.comBlogger91125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-7737522337235849062015-02-06T12:03:00.002-05:002015-02-06T12:20:00.819-05:00Five Years<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIyra9KpwmwCxsDF-u1U0LGwFfHRsUvZ-i0OP6sdSmbdkhyphenhyphenwKVvNoOu3o8gRlb4wbRh8WPWKNW0WAb6QDaqSm-CPZ4z8Ag8zgisXdK7C9aORnNsmisPk2AXVEB0-cZ975WXTdv58tAjg/s1600/Five+years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIyra9KpwmwCxsDF-u1U0LGwFfHRsUvZ-i0OP6sdSmbdkhyphenhyphenwKVvNoOu3o8gRlb4wbRh8WPWKNW0WAb6QDaqSm-CPZ4z8Ag8zgisXdK7C9aORnNsmisPk2AXVEB0-cZ975WXTdv58tAjg/s1600/Five+years.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>The day will come, and the day will go. You likely won't find it any different than any other Friday...anxious for 5:00, excited for the weekend, happy to wind down from a tiring week and to shut off the stress.<br />
<br />
For me, it will be somewhat different. It will mark a milestone of sorts. I will look across the canyon of 5 years, and see the life I once held as my own in the very far, smoggy distance. The life completely unprepared, the life immature to the swirl of grand, debilitating loss...the life before he died. <br />
<br />
It's a lesson in humanity, to walk the shadowed path of grief. There is no packing and preparing for it. There isn't a list of recommended accessories to get through it, and there certainly isn't a clear way into breaking daylight. <br />
<br />
In 5 years, I've learned about the power of choice and decision. I've learned that you can't love someone through or out of addiction. We are merely helpless spectators to someone else's self harm. I used to think it was as easy as offering support and unending love to an addict...<br />
<br />
I was wrong.<br />
<br />
Grief settles. It accompanies you through life like a quiet companion. The reminders are there everyday...lingering cigarette smoke, the end of a fateful song, the back of a person in the line at the grocery store who resembles the departed, and makes you wish....just for a moment. The edges come off... your breath becomes more steady, and the sun rises and sets everyday with your intentional admiration of it's beauty and impermanence. <br />
<br />
There are quiet reflections on who he'd be now. Maybe happily married...maybe thriving in a job he loved, maybe rested and whole and at peace...maybe...maybe...maybe. The maybe's don't get under my skin anymore. I know the past couldn't have been different than it was. I know he wasn't fated to make it through. I know these things. And in the midst of knowing and accepting, and being conscious of the precious anguish he suffered, and that which he has caused, I can say this,<br />
<br />
I loved my friend. In all of his broken humanity and frailty....I accept all truths of his existence. <br />
<br />
There are many gifts out of grief. They are the kind that are only accessible when you're stripped bare of all you know, and only have one choice:<br />
<br />
Rebuild. <br />
<br />
A new person awaits on the other side of grief. That person is someone you have yet to uncover, and thankfully, they're patient and wise and welcoming. The lessons from grief are singular and painstakingly your own. They dig out the ugliness of personal truths with an unforgiving, sharp brutality. At the same time offer the very raw experience of mirroring the potential we have to be better human beings on this remarkable journey called Life, and thus, challenge us to grow, and discover and become. <br />
<br />
I'm eternally grateful that I wasn't spared knowing him. I will bear the pain of losing him for the rest of my life with the humble acknowledgement that knowing him was good. Knowing him changed me. Losing him changed me. Accepting him changed me, and changes me still. <br />
<br />
Be well my friend, I know you're not far. xoJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-25656594009759817942014-02-07T13:50:00.000-05:002014-02-07T17:00:13.774-05:00He was Loved<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2fceSzzfGKU2ptrTY6LDgJ-5gexLay53a-soFa5goV_PXAV0AsDbRtzKyUlP81OEa8_HcGGOu_QA41nEiHtl-L0ooBcavblW4jj-idabXFxlwr0S0jGzzrSGfooJX-yy2taG5TTHNUA/s1600/loved.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs2fceSzzfGKU2ptrTY6LDgJ-5gexLay53a-soFa5goV_PXAV0AsDbRtzKyUlP81OEa8_HcGGOu_QA41nEiHtl-L0ooBcavblW4jj-idabXFxlwr0S0jGzzrSGfooJX-yy2taG5TTHNUA/s1600/loved.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a>Olympians are bundled up in Sochi, Russia today. They've spent 4 intense years since their last attempts at Gold, Silver and Bronze- training- striving, breaking barriers and smashing personal bests. Most people when working towards something...a goal, a new way at approaching life, a medal...they visualize success in order to drive themselves towards their intended destination. They determine a timeline, they set markers for achievement, they celebrate in the journey and just what they've learned along the way. These Olympians have been visualizing success and the podium, and many of them will conclude their time in Russia, where the world watched on...as champions.<br />
<br />
This time of year, especially this particular February, stirs the embers of a life changing Saturday in February of 2010 for me. The Vancouver Winter Olympics had just started, and we as Canadians were more invested than ever. We were unabashedly proud. KD Lang sang Hallelujah, and the world fell silent to listen to the prairie girl with the wind swept angel voice.<br />
<br />
An unforgiving wind changed my course that day- and has yet to stop. I don't remember much about my life perspective before that...I feel like I was so much more naive about life, about people, and about what I thought was fair. I feel like my understanding of humanity and frailty was juvenile, basic and short.The grief journey was about to take me on a winding trail of life's majestic heights, and perilous lows to which I had only ever been an inattentive bystander.<br />
<br />
You see, I lost a kindred friend. You see, My dear friend died. You see, my friend was a drug addict.<br />
<br />
His journey was like that of the Olympian. He determined in his mind that he wanted to achieve something- he determined what his goal was. He collected the necessary tools and supports to be a success....things like a support system for when he was low, new people who didn't know his past... a voracious coffee habit to offset the hunger, and a new life pretty damn unfamiliar to he, who had spent more than half his life in the grips of the demons hand. He stepped into the future with uncertainty and trepidacious hope ..because the path he had been on was like a spinning chamber in suicide roulette.<br />
<br />
The training was hard. He was frustrated, he was exhilarated, he was painfully lonely, and he was the exact shadow of the man he used to be. It was all coming into focus- the rewards for his efforts, the attempts to be a better man, the esteem of peers and those people he saw as gamechangers in our world...<br />
<br />
and one night the switch flipped...one night the pressure to keep trying was extinguished, one night it was all too much, and that night, he died.<br />
<br />
I love my friend in the wake of 4 years. I love the complex, funny, irreverant and inappropriate ways he built his human experience. I love that there wasn't a single thing he wouldn't share about his journey and how he got to be where he was right in that moment- usually with a cigarette hanging out of his half-cocked grin and a large triple/triple coffee in his hand. I love what he taught me about compassion and second chances. I love that I knew him with faults branded onto his history, and in a perfect time and place when I needed to understand more about loving people for where they are right now, in both the beautiful and unforgivingly cruel moments in life. <br />
<br />
Now, as I see the actor addict who dies alone, and as I love the addict in my everyday life...I remember my friends words, "you can't want it for them...". I don't like that answer, and I don't have to. But I accept that none of us will save another without their permission- famous, or otherwise. The choice remains to love more, pray more, and to accept more than ever that our lives are all bisecting for a million spoken and unspoken reasons. The ripple effects outlast life...and they step out of death everyday into the present with lessons and reminders.<br />
<br />
My friend was a great man. He was flawed. He wasn't a quitter. He made a million mistakes like you and I do everyday. But firstly, and most importantly- He Was Loved.<br />
<br />
Miss you much Michael. xo<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-42730347249276840762013-10-30T20:28:00.002-04:002013-11-04T00:19:30.576-05:00Little Impressions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNexGZ_-PQWt-aPmDQ2PwceXBuibl1ho8y_8tb-7mrOzrmPA9xuI8tM7h5LYsNThtOA2IcXeS-R7UmqmYjmcfPErzELiP0xOZiTHyGbEeYRxbb_hyphenhyphen-fLiTozpqHRm9HdGAruwNqCULaIg/s1600/littlegirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNexGZ_-PQWt-aPmDQ2PwceXBuibl1ho8y_8tb-7mrOzrmPA9xuI8tM7h5LYsNThtOA2IcXeS-R7UmqmYjmcfPErzELiP0xOZiTHyGbEeYRxbb_hyphenhyphen-fLiTozpqHRm9HdGAruwNqCULaIg/s320/littlegirl.jpg" width="320" /></a>She knows. Far too early, much too soon...right now, a breath between now and her 5th birthday, she exclaims matter of factly, <br />
<br />
"I have fat legs and a big bum".<br />
<br />
I am sad. I don't want her or them, the little ones to know...to know that this world hurls opinions and expectations at women, girls...little girls...about who they should be, and how the puzzle piece of their life fits into this world.<br />
<br />
I want to stand between her and the ugliness of conformity- I want to stand on guard as a 37 year old woman who dealt with ridicule and relentless teasing. I want to be armour, I want to be a wall, I want to be shelter. I want to be inpenetrable, because I can wade through the reason and the cause...I can be teflon, and I know where worth lies.<br />
<br />
I think about the lessons of growing up different...I think about the challenges of not being the smartest and nowhere on the spectrum of pretty. I think about not having all of the trendy touch stones that somehow qualified worth in those school time years, and I know that nothing material would have appeased my asymmetry to the middle and the norm anyway. I think on my learnings about people and kindness and acceptance and embracing the beauty of nonconformity...and I know that my hard won psuedo wisdom was preserved for moments like this.<br />
<br />
The building of a girl is directly related to a blueprint - and to the character of the women in her life. Her influencers...her models...the ones who live life in front of her, and what they hold important. <br />
<br />
To grow a self confident, unapologetic, self accepting game changing little girl, I believe she must have role models who are fearless in their own lives. She must observe on a daily basis, women who are embracing themselves fully...spiritually, emotionally, physically. She must look upward to women who keep trying, keep loving, keep failing, and keep getting up. Her little eyes must watch women who love themselves, her little hands need the assured grasp of the confident, and her little feet must charge into the future in the clear tracks of those who have blazed a clear trail.<br />
<br />
Surely she is more. More than her appearance, more than her physical presence. She is smart. She is funny. She is strong, and silly and all things lovable. What she thinks matters. What she feels is real. And all of those things, as a woman who is around her? They MATTER to me. They matter deeply. They matter more than anything else on this earth, because she is the future. <br />
<br />
Your mission, should you choose to accept it- is simple:<br />
<br />
Keep trying to be the one that shows her how it's done. After all, everything you are, is who she will be in the future. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-40076809525575812382013-09-21T02:47:00.001-04:002013-09-21T02:50:28.239-04:00The Memory Quilt<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_rsn_1vcVzMbmPgWP8nfamzEOOGMvq2hkdvP5P-sQh3AJd_cZemPdH3qe64DEtvOJYtUffHaaUKaBw11e5RNq-PVIAvCBDfgZNTgyH_mEgNdGa6FvSvDN_9U6qFY0r8eOP2WnqpIwGo/s1600/quilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6_rsn_1vcVzMbmPgWP8nfamzEOOGMvq2hkdvP5P-sQh3AJd_cZemPdH3qe64DEtvOJYtUffHaaUKaBw11e5RNq-PVIAvCBDfgZNTgyH_mEgNdGa6FvSvDN_9U6qFY0r8eOP2WnqpIwGo/s400/quilt.jpg" width="342" /></a>I have a carefully folded tower of clothing sitting at the whitewashed doorway of my bedroom. It was marked for a second hand shop, after doing a closet purge once upon a time. That leaning tower has sat at the door much longer than I care to admit. Those garments that once covered me and shielded my nakedness for a certain time in life, were nearly destined for a new life in someone else's closet, and a quiet and safe corner of my memories.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow morning though, I'm going to make a quilt. I'm not going shopping for remnants of fabric, or brightly coloured, pre-determined and perfectly cut squares. I am going to sew together the memories of my nearly passed on threads, and reposition them in my life. Those fibres after all, hold as much sentiment and reminiscence as any round edged memory. Seams may be frayed, and brilliance of colour may have faded through wear, love, and time, but the breadth of their value to me in those past moments cannot be measured. They, for a time, were a part of me.<br />
<br />
There was a swirling September night when the the covering of innocence tore- and the world forever changed for my dearly kindred friend...and a family I love very deeply. The rawness stripped like the edge of an unguarded blade... the world was quieted and shouting all at once. The silence felt deafening, and the noise seemed sharply numbing. For a long time, those memories have served as a reminder...a blanket if you will, of just how quickly it can all change...the "it" being everything that is, and everything that life seemed to be headed towards. <br />
<br />
That canopy came off. That shelter from the elements of this world seemingly blew away while the world slept. The less familiar our world became and becomes 17 years later, the more I try to piece together the remaining precious, dearly loved, closely worn memories of a boy who was incredible. Incredibly funny. Incredibly smart. So incredibly special... inextinguishable, and insurmountably loved.<br />
<br />
The piecing together of what still remains physically here, feels right. My foot bears a tattoo memory of a childhood friend who left this world much too early. I took her hand written, left handed message in my grade 8 autograph book, and inked it on top of every right foot step in my life. I finally feel like she's really with me now that I can look down and see her name everyday. That outside marking of the 15 year old girl I carry in my heart, somehow acts as a small patch of mental fabric when it comes to the protection of my memories of her.<br />
<br />
I'll carefully piece a dear friends faded, blue checked American Eagle shirt into my quilt- right down to the buttons, wrist cuffs and the label. My grandma's paisley kerchief will find its spot amongst the less sentimental pieces, and a pale green sweatshirt sent to me a lifetime and a heartbreak ago..they'll all become a part of my hopeful masterpiece.<br />
<br />
The combined value of each memory stamped garment, will contribute to a covering of recognition, gratitude, and peace. After all, those I love are still very much with me...and what's left now still has the very real ability to warm me and speak softly alongside my listening heart,<br />
<br />
"We're all around you. We'll hold shelter over you. Always".<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-30429381807986872482013-08-22T22:27:00.002-04:002013-08-22T22:27:29.142-04:00Signal Your Intent<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNM9mokl7pxJlqPh_OA3O458qSD7dSFI3hhDFQzoytU4fvzadmvHveEmkwB9lVOGzzQeAWrlDMdxbpHmGFM6ZaKaiKJDYavW-_CCzw1vaTq_0Szp_eLk934XQXl-kneqvi4FkDGxT148/s1600/indicator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNM9mokl7pxJlqPh_OA3O458qSD7dSFI3hhDFQzoytU4fvzadmvHveEmkwB9lVOGzzQeAWrlDMdxbpHmGFM6ZaKaiKJDYavW-_CCzw1vaTq_0Szp_eLk934XQXl-kneqvi4FkDGxT148/s320/indicator.jpg" width="320" /></a>Roundabouts are quite new to Canada. They don't put me off or confuse me as I have spent considerable time in countries that use them on their roadways as a way of keeping traffic moving, and eliminating stop lights.<br />
<br />
The newest roundabout has just opened in my city, and it's the biggest one in the area. Upon approach, there is a flashing sign for the newbies:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;">SIGNAL YOUR INTENT</span><br />
<br />
I read it, and clearly knew what it meant- but somehow, it spoke to me on another level.<br />
<br />
Instead of driving forward in life, at a speed sometimes too accelerated...with inertia directing at its whim, maybe life is more intentional and more focused if, we signal our intent.<br />
<br />
I sometimes feel adrift...dizzy with the pace of life, but seemingly without a determined destination. The "getting there" is less important than the "getting through." I feel sometimes like there is a revolving door that I'm stuck in, and somehow, I am always being tossed out at the beginning of the next school year, or the next first snowfall. Except...it's another year later, the landscape of my life is morphed into a hybrid of the year before...and the year before that...and so on.<br />
<br />
I've always found that writing things down makes things come alive. It brings my lifes dreams out of that fairy land of wispy make belief into tangible, attainable, in my face realities. Those times that I have signaled my intent have been the most rewarding, concrete and measurable seasons of being on this human journey.<br />
<br />
I dream of living far away, and have for a long time...I've been afraid to write it down. Writing it down has meant that I am accountable. Now, today in fact, a dear friend has returned home to Australia after a year of great adventure here in my beautiful Canada, and another kindred friend will step into a new life in 12 days as she hops across the pond to England. I love and admire their bravery- and I hope someday to be in their shoes. So, I am writing it here...for me, and for you, and for the world to take notice of...Hey, I want to move somewhere new and exciting. Someday...tomorrow, next week, next year...20 years from now. I am signaling my intent...I am letting the universe know it has a job to do.<br />
<br />
Maybe think about it. Writing down the things in your life that your heart wants. It teaches you so much..it's a beautiful and fragile expression of honesty between you and destiny.<br />
<br />
xoJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-84103413066066121462013-06-28T20:17:00.001-04:002013-06-28T21:32:09.714-04:00We Are...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pMvFClXM3d71aDLweV1KSeK0Ede8ZQ2ISLbO1etmBV5qNTsrulOtYoHaMLnZXDQt_M0uVeqXBDUSI4V5CJp-CmUIdmwOu8BTCR8X9jhCpPteI8Pc2WMleTKi9URjssNx6DipzU9h3YU/s827/cntower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pMvFClXM3d71aDLweV1KSeK0Ede8ZQ2ISLbO1etmBV5qNTsrulOtYoHaMLnZXDQt_M0uVeqXBDUSI4V5CJp-CmUIdmwOu8BTCR8X9jhCpPteI8Pc2WMleTKi9URjssNx6DipzU9h3YU/s827/cntower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4pMvFClXM3d71aDLweV1KSeK0Ede8ZQ2ISLbO1etmBV5qNTsrulOtYoHaMLnZXDQt_M0uVeqXBDUSI4V5CJp-CmUIdmwOu8BTCR8X9jhCpPteI8Pc2WMleTKi9URjssNx6DipzU9h3YU/s400/cntower.jpg" width="265" /><br />
</a><strong></strong><br />
<strong>I</strong><strong>t</strong> quietly, and stoically stands. It's dignified, strong, and confident. It doesn't draw unnecessary attention to itself - but it will be celebrated...by me, by we - those far away, and those safely within the borders - we will think of all it is to be <strong><span style="color: red;">Canadian</span></strong>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>It's</strong> Wheat Kings, and pretty things.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> skyscraper sized white icebergs drifting in the North Atlantic.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> small towns and big cities, the corner store, and the CN Tower.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> mountain air, and campfires...stargazing and satellite spotting over a Great Lake.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> a hybrid North American- less fearful, more self assured.<br />
<br />
<strong>It's</strong> a blazing red maple leaf in October.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> poutine in Montreal.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> a quiet and brash government- from Chretien to Trudeau.<br />
<strong>It's</strong> standing on the top of Grouse Mountain- and looking out over tree tops to a twinkling Vancouver.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>We are</strong> First Nations and the Quebecois, cowboys and fishermen.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> a society of the unarmed...and the disarming.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> the Tim Horton's nation- double double loving, maple dip ordering, and "keep the change" kind of folks.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> Thank You and Sorry, we are You're Welcome, and No Problem.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> clothes sunning and bleaching on a line between July and September.<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>We are</strong> hockey lovers with hope- every season...every year, on the asphalt or an arena.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> Yonge St. and Robson St. and George St. and Rue St. Catherine.<br />
<strong>We are </strong>an Okanagan vineyard, and Molson Canadian, and Mill St.Organic Beer.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> The Hudson's Bay Company's blue, yellow, red and green stripes... 1670 to now.<br />
<strong>We are</strong> the mosaic- and you are welcome to live here.<br />
<br />
<strong>We believe</strong> that rights are streamlined- from gay marriage to health care.<br />
<strong>We believe</strong> in music- from dive bar indy cover bands, to a lesbian prairie girl with the voice of an angel.<br />
<strong>We believe</strong> in Christian values...and Buddhist values...and Muslim values, and Be a Good Person values.<br />
<strong>We believe</strong> in a greater connection- and that if we can just take care of each other- we'll all be good.<br />
<strong>We believe</strong> in our own contribution to the world- without attitude..but also without apology.<br />
<br />
Ask me what I am proudest of being- and there could be so many answers I boomerang back to you. But now, at this time of year, where we swell with the pride of being in this corner of the world...and belonging here, I will tell you, <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red;"> I. AM. CANADIAN.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: red;"></span></strong><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZv3rn42GMfqIGIBJrJ3WoAOdTnmWjtndt-2KpNQY0GbgtBgkOsR-SA2i5F41pTYYOH39Sz-Cgg9gITzI2IXe0ki1quHQ9g8ZP126PPhbMMTA1B-D34KChho0coBs8N08h-99z9CCdME/s570/flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-91503768943395517572013-04-30T21:42:00.000-04:002013-04-30T21:42:09.008-04:00Recharge<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPiUbIk76aUApKRj0cYA1aahujLu8EcZulDBOtnOKJ6TyEZzrNfBL73Kyywp7siUYPyzfXd2u-NlQH-AigTucsTWMZujGWjo74igjbsWFX08ePVR8XQE4DfM4xVKluYoPw1DGJMFAHDjc/s1600/recharge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPiUbIk76aUApKRj0cYA1aahujLu8EcZulDBOtnOKJ6TyEZzrNfBL73Kyywp7siUYPyzfXd2u-NlQH-AigTucsTWMZujGWjo74igjbsWFX08ePVR8XQE4DfM4xVKluYoPw1DGJMFAHDjc/s320/recharge.jpg" width="320" /></a>My phone battery is always depleting at a very rapid rate.<br />
<br />
It's annoying.<br />
<br />
I can unplug it in the morning before swinging at the day, and usually by mid afternoon it needs a plug in. All of those things running in the background- apps, programs....they're slowly and silently draining it's ability to perform. <br />
<br />
<strong>We</strong> are the same<span style="background-color: white;">.<strong> I</strong></span> am the same. A billion obligations, commitments, stresses and ways we're stretched beyond our personal limits...and the next thing we know...we are running close to the red line of empty.<br />
<br />
Figuring life out is an interesting project. Committing to happiness and completeness and peace isn't popular, because, after all, we are supposed to be living up to "her" trip to Italy, and "his" new shiny car..."their" monster house, that strangers beautiful....whatever. Whatever it is...we're focusing on the highlight reel of others lives, and benchmarking our humdrum everyday against it. And as we whip around quickly, and catch a glimpse of our life right now...it's just not good enough. So we try...and we diminish...and we run out.<br />
<br />
I was in BC last October...I went to Whistler on my own and had 36 hours of quiet. It wasn't what I thought it would be. I enjoyed the moments of "doing"...and cringed at the moments of trying to turn my mind off. I had nowhere to be...I was at the base of the most beautiful mountains in the world on a glorious Fall day...and I felt like I had to get going. I had to keep moving, keep busy...and get out of there. The thought of being still and soaking it all in...it felt wrong and entirely too indulgent. So I forced myself to sit cross legged in a daffodil yellow Muskoka chair...and to breathe. To absorb. To be present in the warmth of the sunshine....and unapologetic about the choice. The apology felt like it should be from me...to me.<br />
<br />
Jenn, I'm sorry for polluting your mind with a loop of inadequacy and sadness. Jenn, I am sorry for stretching you to accept those moments of untruth to yourself and your future. Jenn, I promise I will be kinder, more real and less critical. I promise that if you wouldn't say it to someone you love...that I'll try not to say it to you.<br />
<br />
Shut off the background. be fully charged, and do things that increase energy. Be surrounded by people who feed positivity and vision. Create. Love. Don't let others tap into the energy without permission.<br />
<br />
Be here. Fully. Because any other way is a disservice.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-1346491878466252932013-04-16T20:39:00.000-04:002013-04-16T20:39:56.670-04:00I Won't Apologize...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fY1Rk0iJ-NkGjfLRMTNabFa_w0lGwDGAz1DpIDBx0DnYSKQvDsr6QblNPEsucT0HJ46pn8LW_YKy566HVBofWblyHgU_4sO3JOZV-y22vupS7-54HH8yAZrpWL-HfpFi76qZNnc8xCc/s1600/no+apologies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fY1Rk0iJ-NkGjfLRMTNabFa_w0lGwDGAz1DpIDBx0DnYSKQvDsr6QblNPEsucT0HJ46pn8LW_YKy566HVBofWblyHgU_4sO3JOZV-y22vupS7-54HH8yAZrpWL-HfpFi76qZNnc8xCc/s320/no+apologies.jpg" width="320" /></a>When the world feels heavy, or maybe human frailty is just a little more top of mind, I am reminded of the things that I know to be true. <br />
<br />
In times of feeling inadequate, or questioned, or scrutinized, I love a perfectly placed reminder of each persons beauty and unique contribution to this planet. Sometimes, the reminders to be true to yourself propel you into the honesty of your being...and you make a list of things you're not going to apologize for.<br />
<br />
This is mine.<br />
<br />
<strong>1</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for being kind. Some see it as weakness, some see it as a fault... I don't care- I choose to be kind whenever possible.<br />
<strong>2</strong>. <strong>I won't apologize</strong> for loving all things girly- I love makeup and clothes and laughing at inside jokes with my friends, and singing into a hairbrush, and taking goofy pictures. I love smelling good, and getting my nails done. I'll never be a tomboy, sporty, competitive chick...and I like that about me.<br />
<strong>3</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for moving forward. I've long ago learned, that mulling over the past just steals precious moments from my present and future. So, if it's not working, or has stopped serving my happiness...I step forward, and don't look back.<br />
<strong>4</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for being a slow runner. So many people have asked me about my time, or my process when I run. I'll never be a competitive runner because I do it for me. <br />
<strong>5</strong>. <strong>I won't apologize</strong> for telling people to mind their own business, or to treat me with respect. <br />
<strong>6</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for loving my family, and spending a lot of time with them. They are my world.<br />
<strong>7</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for being single. It's not a disease- it's a time in my life. <br />
<strong>8</strong>. <strong>I won't apologize</strong> for having wanderlust. I love this world...and not seeing it isn't an option. Maybe that makes me less settled than most...maybe it makes me less rooted...or maybe it leaves me open to opportunity and adventure. <br />
<strong>9</strong>.<strong> I won't ever apologize</strong> for being an average sized woman. I refuse to buy into the media's insistance that I need to be emaciated and ripped. I accept the body I live in...it's an amazing place. When I treat it with respect, I feel even better...and that's part of my process in life. <br />
<strong>10</strong>. <strong>I won't apologize</strong> for trying to kill my inner cynic. It's hard work to look at a world where children are shot, bombs go off at a marathon and people celebrate the shortcomings of others. To remain optimistic and positive is essential to a fulfilling life. I could hate this world. I could live in fear. I could- but I won't.<br />
<strong>11</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for being true to my convictions, and 100% steadfast in what I believe. I believe in God, I believe in justice, I believe in mercy. I believe I know a mere shred of His goodness and plans for me. I believe that trusting Him is the best way to live my life. <br />
<strong>12</strong>.<strong> I won't apologize</strong> for choosing to travel through life by way of happiness and peace. Life isn't controllable, and it's so impermanent- so I choose. I choose to be happy at all costs.<br />
<strong>13</strong>. <strong>I won't apologize</strong> for seeking authenticity. Living life on the surface serves no one. I seek real people to surround myself with...brilliant, flawed and honest. Those who are journeying fearlessly through life...I like to think those are my people. <br />
<br />
What's on your list?<br />
<br />
xxJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-5800141438465123882013-02-10T17:05:00.001-05:002013-02-10T18:41:40.514-05:003 Years Later<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLpL_7MKkng1BkNNv1OFJx3UWG39JQJthxHOzgxYdrWWIl2ifXqXFDspKNKFKOiDqW2mvXNNFq-pM7_rpMVom_t6YUgZkaf78CXfPpXG84ZNB0RrUaNBBpWg1rEKYHgGGMwMMo1_lEk0/s1600/number-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLpL_7MKkng1BkNNv1OFJx3UWG39JQJthxHOzgxYdrWWIl2ifXqXFDspKNKFKOiDqW2mvXNNFq-pM7_rpMVom_t6YUgZkaf78CXfPpXG84ZNB0RrUaNBBpWg1rEKYHgGGMwMMo1_lEk0/s320/number-3.jpg" width="240" /></a>Dear Michael~<br />
<br />
It's time again. It's time to put my mind in reverse, and to remember when you left us.<br />
<br />
It's everso different this year. I am sure every year will have it's own imprint- it will be unique and singular. So much is learned in 365 days....or 730 days...or 1095 days...1 year, 2 years....3 whole years.<br />
<br />
We'd be different people if you had stayed...we'd be closer to 40 than 30, you would have hopefully, finally, ridden yourself of that flip phone- you'd be nearly 3 years employed at a job I know you loved. Things would be different....<strong>we</strong>- would be different. <br />
<br />
The world is different now, you know. Things seem to be speeding up. The lessons I've learned about slowing down and being present in each precious moment likely wouldn't have been absorbed or observed as deeply had you stayed. It all matters- the people, the moments...the little ones who are learning everyday...it's all out in front of me, and us...<br />
<br />
the left behind.<br />
<br />
I've learned to live with no answers. I've learned to embrace the "why" like a close friend. I've learned to live with grief, and to accept its companionship at moments expected, and those when I am shocked at my frailty. A sound, a smell...cigarette smoke hanging in the air...the you and me conversations that I replay like a favourite song. <br />
<br />
I accept the man you were. I accept how you lived your life and did what you could to become emancipated from the demons. I accept the neverending efforts you threw out to the universe in hopes of being a game changer. I accept your absolute brokeness and rebuilding into a beautifully flawed, charismatic, complex man. I accept that you did what you could, with what you had...where you were, in those moments of choice. I accept the "why" as my friend...and I love you, stored away safe, in a guarded, warm and inpenetrable part of my heart and my life. <br />
<br />
The scar is evident. I don't escape you. I try to be free from the memories...I try to forget, and to say I don't care. I say I can't care. I hold myself now to the benchmark of my limits, and not who I think <strong>you</strong> were trying to be. Perhaps there are those of us who have tried to impact the world in the Michael way...because we don't want to let you go. This year has taught me that it's time...to let the Michael signature be honoured for where it is....3 years ago. And that's okay- moving forward isn't a forgetting as I have fought against...it's just an admission that the fight to keep you here is done. <br />
<br />
I don't speak for the we...I speak for me...and I say with tears..<br />
<br />
be free my friend. <br />
<br />
Be out there behind us...like a silent but ever present shadow. Be ahead of us, reminding us of what this life really is about.<br />
<br />
You'll always be my Mikey...and I'll always be your Jenn with 2 n's.<br />
<br />
xoJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-22349926928533779802012-12-03T19:43:00.002-05:002012-12-03T19:44:52.100-05:00Higher<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXejC9crc5oWYOKhSD7Fe1RTwbNw98XtduVv29SIN_6Ef47t1ePu6kci3w81v7rCIgOOWUEaIbsuo7r01lvQmZTd0g5BWS3IH3mkrPrpHcMAR9ShAWsq1n96xjRwMV6a3VwxFAtSxE5c/s1600/higher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXejC9crc5oWYOKhSD7Fe1RTwbNw98XtduVv29SIN_6Ef47t1ePu6kci3w81v7rCIgOOWUEaIbsuo7r01lvQmZTd0g5BWS3IH3mkrPrpHcMAR9ShAWsq1n96xjRwMV6a3VwxFAtSxE5c/s320/higher.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We trust. We believe. We have white knuckled hope and belief that the God we believe in will answer our prayers...and that His answer will be Yes. <br />
<br />
We hold on tight...til the end with that mustard seed faith and peace in our hearts; our trust being stretched to what seems to be snap back proportions. The emotions rise and fall like breath itself....<br />
<br />
and then it stops. Then it is just over...and a new journey begins.<br />
<br />
Faith is fascinating to me. Being a person of such a description, I can tell you that the pathway is often clouded with vapour, and winding....winding into places of unknown depths of self, of life, and of eternity. Being a person of faith allows a certain assured kind of shelter in seasons of monsoon. Life whips around you with destructive intent...and the One who holds you in the palm of His hand assures...<br />
<br />
My ways are higher. <br />
<br />
And there He holds me, and us, and any who will choose to believe. He holds us <strong>above</strong> our circumstances, He holds us tightly <strong>through</strong> our circumstances...and He stands beside us to <strong>endure</strong> our circumstances. While His answer may appear to be No to that which you've hoped for....for yourself, or someone you love...or someone you gave birth to and nurtured til their dying breath, I have to believe that the very maker of each and every one of our spectacular souls,<br />
<br />
knows.<br />
<br />
Knows the end of the story from the beginning, knows the depths that He will walk through with us, and still, assures quietly and sometimes with the likes of a starters bugle...<br />
<br />
I am here for you. I am FOR you. <br />
<br />
Today I choose to believe this. I am challenged everyday to believe this. I fail at believing...over and over...and over again, and still, He loves me, and walks with me. I trust His higher ways, and I believe He is conspiring for my good. <br />
<br />
For those I knew a long time ago, who buried their 11 year old daughter today, I pray that the shelter of peace will be palpable and gentle. I pray that the God we know will show you the miracles of who He is...everyday...every moment. I pray that everyday will continue to be a marvel for you and your family. May you be amazed daily. You are loved.<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-16847836945335790992012-09-06T22:54:00.000-04:002012-09-06T22:54:34.363-04:00Just Breathe<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-nvlrEZRv77qr_ETs6EyEinVMfNZY0WOFvdMJ2EPpyxj33lZpdstxSlQ5LLEcJQwdRjm5-9U0FxOx2VHePDQial8yv-Z2brTBwnEJhaVFRzwbMVO_sh0rjr76yYrhVNdcXXETBqwE7A/s1600/just-breathe_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx-nvlrEZRv77qr_ETs6EyEinVMfNZY0WOFvdMJ2EPpyxj33lZpdstxSlQ5LLEcJQwdRjm5-9U0FxOx2VHePDQial8yv-Z2brTBwnEJhaVFRzwbMVO_sh0rjr76yYrhVNdcXXETBqwE7A/s320/just-breathe_large.jpg" width="320" /></a>Breath. Breathing. Breathe.<br />
<br />
It's crucial, and yet, it's automatic. It's absolutely essential to life, but it's rarely pondered unless you're an athlete, someone working to relieve stress...or someone who is dying.<br />
<br />
I used to be skeptical and quite cynical towards those people who say, "just breathe" when life gets tough or hectic or unmanageable. Secretly, on the inside, I wanted to tell them where to go, how to get there, who to meet when they check in, and what to order on the menu. I didn't buy it.<br />
<br />
At all.<br />
<br />
But as with so many things in life that we learn, we either choose to open up to something new, or we are forced to face the newness anyway with resistance and resentment. I am learning...the first one is way easier for everyone. Being defiant to learning new things is really just an unyielding to change, don't you think?<br />
<br />
I have found my breath. It couldn't have come at a better time. Everyone has stress, and deals with it in their own unique ways.... mine has always leaned towards being introverted and introspective. It's something I have chosen to work on...and it's hard. It's very hard. It's hard to change who you've always been. <br />
<br />
So it came back to a rebirth. It came back to the beginning...and that place where all I have to do is commit to one thing.<br />
<br />
To breathe.<br />
<br />
It's restored focus. It's restored peace. It's allowed me to be a kinder human being. Kinder in life, and to those I do life with...and mostly, to myself. It's healing with each calculated inhale...and exhale, and it clears my mind of the daily information hurricane.<br />
<br />
I allow it to be a prayer. I allow it to be an expression between myself and my Creator. I allow it to be an outward expression of my gratitude, and am mindful that each breath surely has purpose, has restoration in it's very fibre...and is a measurement of my life. <br />
<br />
xo<br />
Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-18908575853761268032012-08-02T20:43:00.002-04:002012-08-02T20:53:24.814-04:00Things That Matter<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRPzMT0YS22Cf7zKzU961MuoxMDzYIg27uzITiraFho3Gt-ijR8qfsR8s_wdhcVngyPAXdz_ya16HCqV-B5sZ66-WR1j8XYMKdYjLZzyTa50QCza7yQmStbGb6vzoQ5VZgDMXjAi8TII/s1600/ThingsThatMatterMost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRPzMT0YS22Cf7zKzU961MuoxMDzYIg27uzITiraFho3Gt-ijR8qfsR8s_wdhcVngyPAXdz_ya16HCqV-B5sZ66-WR1j8XYMKdYjLZzyTa50QCza7yQmStbGb6vzoQ5VZgDMXjAi8TII/s320/ThingsThatMatterMost.jpg" width="273" /></a>When I look at the world I know, I see a bright prism of things I love. <br />
<br />
If you were to ask me my perspective on any world issue, I'd have to tell you I am a black and white kind of gal; fiercely driven by the right, the just and the kind.<br />
<br />
You wanna know what matters to me? Here goes:<br />
<br />
<strong>1</strong>. <strong><u>Tolerance.</u></strong> Not that tug of war between your opinion and my opinion, or either of us trying to convince the other of <strong>our</strong> rightness, and the <strong>others</strong> wrongness. No. Tolerance is a chosen skill, and it takes <strong>work. </strong>Tolerance does not require acceptance, but it DOES require understanding and a glimmer of respect for someone else's opinion, conviction or chosen path in life. <br />
<br />
<strong>2</strong>. <strong><u>Having a heart for the world and the things I believe God holds important.</u></strong> This excludes politics and agendas, and national opinions and big mouths with small minds. The God I know grieves at the starving child in Africa, or in the grade 1 classroom in your city. The God I know weeps for those caught in a storm of genocide and a world that turns a blind, unimpacted, indifferent glance. The God I know looks at the grieving, the broken hearted, the discarded and societies "less than's" and sends out a charge...to YOU, and to ME. His question is, "What are you going to do about it?" The God I know doesn't measure sin on a sliding scale of bad to worse, nor does He punish this way. The things that break the heart of the God I know are real heart issues, NOT whether or not gays can marry or be given the same rights as everyone else. Any Christian thinking of throwing their opinion and hatred at this issue should remember that Christ always had a heart for the opressed and shunned, and when asked to pass judgement or mercy? He ALWAYS chooses mercy and love.<br />
<br />
<strong>3</strong>. <strong><u>Making a difference.</u></strong> It used to be abstract to me. Out there, inspiring me in my highschool classroom with a guest speaker, or an amazing trailblazer being featured on a TV show. It has hung over my head for years, without a form or an identity, until I ventured to do something revolutionary. What was that, you may ask? It's one small, 3 letter word. <br />
<br />
TRY.<br />
<br />
Your foray into service doesn't have to be loud and splashy. Paying for a strangers coffee? You just did it. Serving in a soup kitchen once a month? Bravo. Offering to take the kids for a stressed out Mom? You'll never know the full weight of this kindness. You may never know the ripple effects of your actions, but I assure you, that your attempts along with millions of other people everyday who choose to do one kind thing a day...they matter. They bear value..and they restore those frayed edges of humanity.<br />
<br />
<strong>4</strong>. <strong><u>Love</u></strong>. It's so many things that create a happy life. It's patience. It's kindness. It's slow to anger. It's HARD work. But choosing everyday to love, those who you do life with, and those who life forces to the periphery...it's the only thing we've got sometimes. None of us will get to the end of our lives wishing for more time at work, more money in our bank account, or a bigger TV in our livingroom...but we will hopefully all be ushered into the next life surrounded by those who love us deeply and are sending us into the expectant arms of those who love us even more.<br />
<br />
<strong>5</strong>. <strong><u>Understanding</u></strong>. On so many levels, aren't we all just trying to understand and be understood? I have chosen over the last few years, that being around people who inspire me and push me, and are honest with me...those are the people I want to be understood by. The ones who have my back at the best and worst turns in life. I've turned my back on some who relentlessly question my judgements, or my intentions, or my heart...because they will never understand me, and I will never understand them. I wish them well, and I let them go. I'm on a mission to understand so much.<br />
<br />
I think the biggest queries are finally finding their resolutions as I knock on 37 this year. <br />
<br />
I hear a resounding response when I ask just what this life is all about. The God I know speaks to me so I understand...and do you know what He says to me?<br />
<br />
"Roll on Jenny...you've got this."<br />
<br />
Where's your list, friend? xoJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-64480386269917692972012-06-09T13:26:00.000-04:002012-06-09T13:26:06.611-04:00The Runner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivoXISzsfEyRjTourwP810QZ_TPKYO19IKJdfh5Eop7PyGQsGnDTvtp3zKFDKBATdkM93BbczmJF8gbr4spJIg2cmI9M5w8KMCoKpD_Q7p96vy3km3JgQS3TbUXOTQ7yZdFRlak3t7AAc/s1600/The-Runner-Web-Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivoXISzsfEyRjTourwP810QZ_TPKYO19IKJdfh5Eop7PyGQsGnDTvtp3zKFDKBATdkM93BbczmJF8gbr4spJIg2cmI9M5w8KMCoKpD_Q7p96vy3km3JgQS3TbUXOTQ7yZdFRlak3t7AAc/s320/The-Runner-Web-Image.jpg" width="320" /></a>Think of the thing that most scares you, and you will have found yourself in my Adidas pink and grey trainers a number of months ago. Throughout my whole life, there have been vapoured limits. Limits imposed by society...by my peers, by my very insecure self. </div>
<br />
You're not smart enough.<br />
You're not thin enough.<br />
You're not wealthy enough.<br />
You're certainly not fit enough.<br />
<br />
I bought a pair of proper running shoes years ago. I didn't know I had bought "running" shoes, until I looked the model up online recently, just to see what the heck I've been putting my feet into. Sure enough, this non-runner had the makings of destiny at her feet...waiting to be stepped into...<br />
<br />
and forward.<br />
<br />
Forward into a life where I don't give a damn about what you think I am capable of. Forward into a life where I am no longer the hopeless fat girl from highschool, because I run 5-10k four times a week. Forward into the race of one....the race of WON. <br />
<br />
Trying is scary. So I set my own pace...I run for me...and I run for the girls I see everyday who are special and unique and beautifully unusual, the ones people don't care to understand, or the ones who drown in the lonliness of not being "normal".<br />
<br />
My hope for them and for all of us really, is for us to realise that life is to be run in our own lane, without too much adherence to the negative darts of disillusionment that fly by everyday. We keep running, we aim to be better...we breathe air into our own lungs, we perspire our own sweat, and we achieve our own small and monumental goals.<br />
<br />
Why? Because we can.<br />
<br />
I am a runner. YES, I am.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-60502985239341617492012-05-24T00:00:00.002-04:002012-05-24T00:15:23.505-04:00Fragile Freedom<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gv6H2OOS4eY9iVXsAMrDYFxauk2VtL0H7SBiTk2HThL_46fH9DRydYTNZeiWWgfnz_UN4aLtpoe6B6GfaVL_lA6iNdRWGa5C__9Co1KpMqYCcdunv1ehyphenhyphenATR1bWiegJ80BaucO-VHng/s1600/feel_freedom_27651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gv6H2OOS4eY9iVXsAMrDYFxauk2VtL0H7SBiTk2HThL_46fH9DRydYTNZeiWWgfnz_UN4aLtpoe6B6GfaVL_lA6iNdRWGa5C__9Co1KpMqYCcdunv1ehyphenhyphenATR1bWiegJ80BaucO-VHng/s400/feel_freedom_27651.jpg" width="400" /></a>Take a deep breath.<br />
<br />
Breath is something we take for granted. Clearly, claiming a breath is something we do every few moments out of necessity and automatically. When that innate signal ceases we will fade from vibrancy into memory.<br />
<br />
There is a balance of elements in life that finitely determines our existence. Should oxygen and CO2 get tangled and lose their proportions, life as we know it would instantly change, and we'd be gone.<br />
<br />
But with all of lifes uncertainty, seemingly unparalleled unfairness and horrible injustice, I am confident in the questionless points in life.<br />
<br />
Good is everywhere. Expecting good actually changes your soul and the way you fit into the world. Expecting bigger, more beautiful things out of life propels you into possibility. That bottomless wishing well of chances, fullfillment and joy spills over so you don't even have to peek inside. Your feet will be immersed in the run off of life's promises. It starts with your glorious ability to use the most powerful word in our language (in my humble opinion) and that is:<br />
<br />
Choice.<br />
<br />
The beauty of choice, is that it has no stamped expiration date. Choosing to finally change, choosing to finally forgive, choosing to be kind in the face of aggression, and choosing to claim your own peace...all of these actions are valuable the first time, the tenth time...and the last time. They matter. They always matter. Not exercising these intuitive instincts is as a result of one thing:<br />
<br />
Fear.<br />
<br />
To stay in a bad situation is believing the lies...that we've told ourselves...and that have been projected onto us. Choosing to live in unforgiveness harms the the unforgiving much more than the unforgiven. The unforgiving fears a loss of control. Choosing to face aggression with kindness goes against our natural instincts, but I assure you, soft words turn away wrath. (Proverbs 15:1) <br />
<br />
Choosing your own peace is the lesson that serves the greatest personal reward. It actually allows the reclaiming of your life. It's hard. It's VERY hard. Choosing to release control of other peoples reactions and actions, and focusing on your own responses only is like loving the orchestra, but choosing to close your eyes and only listen with a headset. Realizing, your response to the situation, and your feelings from the situation are all that matter at the end of the day. Fear will tell you you need to own it all... peace will whisper, "you're truth is all that matters...and you only have to say it ONCE."<br />
<br />
Your freedom lays in your hands. It breathes, and lives...and deeply inhales hope...hope that you will create something timeless everyday no matter the size or the measure. It lies fragile, and full of anticipation...and it completely trusts you and that you're doing the best you can right now...and if you're not, don't worry...it knows you're trying and you will get there. <br />
<br />
“<a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/freedom_is_fragile_and_must_be_protected-to/296034.html">Freedom
is <b>fragile</b> and must be protected. To sacrifice it, even as a temporary
measure, is to betray it.</a>”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-23807382992957735182012-04-30T22:32:00.000-04:002012-04-30T22:32:55.661-04:00Phoenix<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibD6VBriE2eygdUJ4P-NxZpDj6XeXaV8jelHFTaLplixJB3SCRfcM2OilLepj8ohtOj94FRcVcAczrJSJj82yIP6CuXG2vhyphenhyphenyc92dC_2QeJoLsp3kjyFV7YSlGAiZVn18n_BRLhyphenhyphenmjE_0/s1600/phoenix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibD6VBriE2eygdUJ4P-NxZpDj6XeXaV8jelHFTaLplixJB3SCRfcM2OilLepj8ohtOj94FRcVcAczrJSJj82yIP6CuXG2vhyphenhyphenyc92dC_2QeJoLsp3kjyFV7YSlGAiZVn18n_BRLhyphenhyphenmjE_0/s320/phoenix.jpg" width="269" /></a>Dear P.~<br />
<br />
The road has arrived. The spinning, unsettled wandering has halted. You have caught your balance, steadied your stance, fixed your eyes on a point on the horizon...and you have begun. Begun to walk.<br />
<br />
The lost? It's over.<br />
The hurt? It's dying...and being compensated with unending fullfillment.<br />
The anger? It doesn't have to protect you anymore...you can lay it down and let complete healing begin.<br />
<br />
The life you have known, the past that chased you for so long, and pursued you with the intention of consuming you...it's finished. Those hard edges that provided an insurance of sorts...a sure fire way of keeping good out, they're slowly chipping away...crumbling and revealing what they have been so carefully concealing...<br />
<br />
An immeasurably valuable masterpiece.<br />
<br />
Don't be afraid, dear one. You're braver than you even know. You're infinitely stronger than you could ever fathom. I promise you that your life is out in front of you...and not behind you. All of the underground wishes in the deepest part of your heart for the life you want- they're out there and they're now pursuing you. You'll be amazed. Those things that have made your heart hopelessly thirsty...those real desires for an extraordinary life...they'll creep in, one by one.<br />
<br />
And you'll be ready.<br />
<br />
Feel it all. Don't run from the real. Take your stance. Whether it be on your tiptoes reaching, looking your demons in the eye and being able to conclusively dismiss them...or on your knees, mindful of the fact that you've layed down the biggest battle of your life...and in doing so...you've won. Feel it. Don't wish away the process. Embrace the fragile beauty of brokenness. Spark those dry and whithered parts inside, and set ablaze all of the pain, crippling disappointment and unending defeat. <br />
<br />
It's done.<br />
<br />
The rebuild is now. The ashes are glowing...and the phoenix is emerging. <br />
<br />
We're imeasurably blessed to bear witness to it.<br />
<br />
J. & T.<br />
<br />Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-65231167801658988402012-04-15T00:07:00.005-04:002012-04-15T00:55:06.978-04:00The Leap<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1HvhBFiLN87EBhDgO7xdAXQWzvlFG2e7m2fMlMTvSAhEyrDiei-rwqM8KDmP6h9eO92aoFsXqYEJCLibTNKLNTfppnXK_YGvlSjKLCM-IMh5nNfgwxZBuiVBif8qqBiTzeJ62uQhS_g/s1600/leap3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; height: 214px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5731485637827141730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq1HvhBFiLN87EBhDgO7xdAXQWzvlFG2e7m2fMlMTvSAhEyrDiei-rwqM8KDmP6h9eO92aoFsXqYEJCLibTNKLNTfppnXK_YGvlSjKLCM-IMh5nNfgwxZBuiVBif8qqBiTzeJ62uQhS_g/s320/leap3.jpg" /></a>The leap.<br /><br /><div> </div><div>Close your eyes....hard. Cross your fingers...tight. Take a deep breath...fully. Exhale slowly.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Jump.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It's in those moments of decision, that I believe, your life is created...right in front of your eyes. It doesn't mean it's clear. Not by a long, random shot. But it does mean that you've somehow flung faith out like a boomerang...and have begun to see the comeback.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It's also about doing those things that make little, to no sense to others. It's about surviving brutal scrutiny, mere patches of support, and championing what appears to be a lost or losing cause. It's doing what is non negotiable to you...at the risk of being inauthentic to your convictions for the rest of your life.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Being an innovator can be a lonely venture. Surveillance of actions and behaviours seem to be more scrutinized than any normal, daily activity. Why? Because it's not expected behaviour. It's following your heart while wielding a blade that clears the brush of a completely untrodden path. The excitement of discovery is exhilarating...the work is tireless...but it's worth it. It's all worth it, because it's a masterpiece in the making. What it is, is undecided....until the decision begs being made...and YOU make it. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>My journey is as much on the outside, as the inside. My work has found me...my passion has been ignited. I challenge you to find something that makes you feel useful, to feel purposeful...and to feel gloriously alight. So many people talk about finding their purpose...and I am solely convinced....</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>You don't find your purpose...it's on the inside of you, and is waiting to be detonated.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The first step? </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The scariest.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The first step?</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Is one of the best ways to feel ultimately ALIVE.</div><div> </div><div> </div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-33451857428578974192012-03-04T23:16:00.006-05:002012-03-04T23:43:33.337-05:00Masterpiece<img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; height: 254px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5716268982967143010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEK1T5AR0H_Qli1E8CwGlSkL34KEmmJDyv0T2IUHKZdX915nRKhpX4HzRwv27uVkSIsa4QkcUr-R35UV4xvH0ujNYmnFyrV_PFrW0TwqIL03BfJWJETJ5K3LBtTgp1r_JO0A9FG2ewmI/s320/masterpiece.jpg" />The conversations bear weight. They tip the scales on fluffy, light, airy chats....and shoot directly for the blazing target in the distance.<br /><br />The heart.<br /><br /> The soul.<br /><br />The challenges that invade life without permission...or apology. The helpless ones who stand empty handed and bewildered with spinning reality. The wounded who whisper for a lifeline..while life swirls around..and threatens to consume.<br /><br />We stand in the gap. All of us do, at different times. We listen...we advise...we console and defend. Sometimes...we lead. We do so by creating the way for someone who just can't anymore...<br /><br />can't stay the same... anymore.<br />can't face the day... anymore.<br />can't bear the grief... anymore.<br />can't believe the lies... anymore.<br /><br />We spread our own personal brand of magic over a life shattered...and with great care, reassemble the dust-like shards of devastation...and help someone build. The action isn't grand...the action is not overt...most often..the action is as simple as a conversation.<br /><br />We save each other. We do this everyday...we learn from each other, and grow from each other...and create our new perspectives, because of each other. It's a pretty powerful thing...to contribute to the shaping of the formless, into a masterpiece. We all create...we all have good blooming inside of us...<br /><br />I believe we're all creating ourselves while we create each other. What a gift. What a miracle. What a priviledge it is, for God to drop people into our lives...and to recognize it.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-43537725084182528442012-02-25T11:30:00.009-05:002012-02-25T13:36:49.414-05:00The Grace Effect<img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 320px; height: 213px; float: left; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713135431964576178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQ98HFUUL2e40M51c__LbAbWNcq7-GUyGH8XXcvOS-4Sj7olXoBrD3yjsHewws1a8-awWabwogpQ0tOhTztFKnMsxzzzlKkrxZnuCDQDIpJPRxwUWX2KmkfRcMUhA3jJrL-2VeNvS_wU/s320/grace.jpg" />It's a gusty, frigid Saturday morning. The view out the window to my right is bright and white. Overnight, the world as I know it has been blanketed, and frozen in time. The deep freeze is unexpected...it was forcasted for another time, but arrived fashionably late to the party. We wait for the rebirth...for the promise of Spring, and growth..and new life.<div><div><div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The access routes of my life will need to be cleared...ie: I will need to shovel the driveway and the stairs to my front door. I need to do it for my own safety and, of course, passage out into the world. But also...I need to clear the sidewalk, so others can safely pass by on their daily journey. In essence, what I clear for myself, I also, inadvertently, clear for others as well.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It's not enjoyable...to heave heavy snow...to endure whipping cold winds, and to clear the path. It's often thankless, and would seem pointless in a way...as it's just going to throw down snow again, anyway. After all... you're going to have to go out there again anyway tomorrow, a few days from now, or next week to do it all over again.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Sometimes...that thankless job is a place to demonstrate a glimpse of good. Taking on the temporary challenge of lifting someone elses load...and clearing the way for them to get safely where they need to go. Because this world can seem so utterly void of connection..and compassion...and basic kindness, the act can be shocking to the recipient. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The challenge is not to get discouraged. With the unending precipitation...or the burden of the lifting...or with a silent response to kindness. The challenge is to DO, because you CAN, not because you're expecting a return, or a response. The weight of your character lies in the willingness to act, not in expecting a response.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>And when the burden becomes too much...in shovelling snow...in the giving...in the negative responses to life...I believe, His Grace is enough for me. He calls me to act...not to worry. He calls me to be a person of action..even when the well seems dry. When I say I am weak, He says, " My child, I've got this"...and I know my cares are in His safekeeping. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>He COVERS all. He SEES all. He KNOWS all. He PLANS all. He BEARS all. What have I to fear?</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>2 Corinthians 12:9</div></div></div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-12785904337792104412012-02-12T22:17:00.014-05:002012-02-12T23:25:46.313-05:00A Prayer for the Lost Ones<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt91Y6etaX-g6iczgUMGwpPf39OeJETO0j-9dxbwi5k-RV7YBaeWNNYr0oYlDZixQB1yLNnfkx1GBAyoqoSPmKDoFtBFtomCOYictfjCTQDoDmLm2-vOaxUMLW8fgesZKiWbOOcTgL9fY/s1600/Whitney_Houston_Child_0.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 192px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708470141734534114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt91Y6etaX-g6iczgUMGwpPf39OeJETO0j-9dxbwi5k-RV7YBaeWNNYr0oYlDZixQB1yLNnfkx1GBAyoqoSPmKDoFtBFtomCOYictfjCTQDoDmLm2-vOaxUMLW8fgesZKiWbOOcTgL9fY/s320/Whitney_Houston_Child_0.jpg" /></a> I'm watching the 54th Annual Grammy Awards. The hours between February 12th, and 13th are quickly closing...1 hour, 41 minutes, and an anniversary will be upon me again...one which changed the course of my life forever, 2 years ago.<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am watching with more intent tonight than other years. I am usually quite bored by now, and am deciding to crawl into bed. But tonight, an incredible talent...a trail blazing pioneer for African American women...a superstar, an idol...a mother, and a daughter is being honoured.</div><br /><br /><div>Fair enough that a legend be honoured. Not unexpected for her to be recognized for her unmatched contributions to music and film. Celebrities love to honour each other for greatness and unparalleled skill...and even for overcoming unthinkable odds.</div><br /><br /><div>Whitney didn't overcome. Whitney, the breathtakingly beautiful, unrivaled voice of a generation...Whitney, the church choir songbird died alone in a hotel room in Hollywood. She brazenly taunted addiction for years, and last night, it devoured her...wholly, completely, and quietly. </div><br /><br /><div>I have heard varying commentaries on her death. From tears to indifference...and grief to anger, all emotions from one pole to the other have been expressed. I by no means think that people aren't entitled to their opinions, or their right to share them. But I will venture a guess, anyone with a calloused, hard, flippant comment or opinion hasn't ever loved and lost someone to addiction. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Addiction doesn't start out as such. It is a romancer of sorts. It often courts patiently, quietly and methodically. It fills a void. It whittles off the sharp edges, and it creates a need for habitual intimacy. It alienates and segregates....like an abusive, controlling lover. It seeks to consume, with consumption. It doesn't care about your position in life...who you're married to, who your father is, or what your bank account is... it's completely out for itself...and it takes no prisoners. It lies and deludes...and it makes tragic memories of incredible, broken and stained people.</div><br /><br /><div>The lost ones. Wealthy and famous....nameless and penniless...they are the same. They fall into the same short life club. Addiction is not reserved for junkies or losers, freaks or screw ups. It finds all kinds of people...talented, charismatic, loved, compassionate people...mothers, fathers, daughters, sons...cousins, friends, nieces, nephews...people you know, and people you hear about. They share life with you...and if they don't...trust me, they will, or they do so without your knowledge.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>My prayer, for every addict, is for them to find compassion, and to find peace - inside of their life here on earth. I pray that their race from the demons that pursue them will be conquered...just one day at a time. I pray that they will find the answers...the why's to the unanswered questions of their pasts, and that they will live out life with purpose and healing. I pray that they will find support and strength...I pray that they find Hope.</div><br /><br /><br /><div><strong>Dum Spero Spiro ~ While I breathe, I Hope.</strong></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Hope will rise tomorrow...for the lost ones will find their way. And I'm going to be a part of it however I can.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Keeping my promises to you MB, always. xo</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-59447811916322558562012-02-08T22:10:00.013-05:002012-02-08T23:24:04.261-05:00Fate Deal<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67A1zqr5EFliyxGiyHsSk1vCX2WzTLFVLlnHWYJ5Y9SIhEklTvd9FDyxLcJM60HZ_H9RBqlwZ3Z5oj0cmkTfHpLICec1Es7g29fxuQz1jBcMsHA5XBb7PPjv3ur7nGNufcvHFcP9tCRA/s1600/deal.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 171px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706986629049504466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67A1zqr5EFliyxGiyHsSk1vCX2WzTLFVLlnHWYJ5Y9SIhEklTvd9FDyxLcJM60HZ_H9RBqlwZ3Z5oj0cmkTfHpLICec1Es7g29fxuQz1jBcMsHA5XBb7PPjv3ur7nGNufcvHFcP9tCRA/s320/deal.jpg" /></a><br />Dear Michael~<br /><br />It's happening. I know you know. I know you're in the middle of it...giggling...smirking, and winking at fate as it comes into focus for those of us here.<br /><br />It's lifting. That hazy, thick, stifling blanket I've been using for shelter. It's protected me from the storm, in it's own way...from the drenching down pour...the flood I've lost myself in for 2 years. It's felt good to be under it's safe keeping...it's felt right to be shadowed by the sadness...and the comfort of unparallelled grief.<br /><br />I see it fraying...I look through the threadbare thinness of the fibres that once used to block the light...and I see the sunlight. The warmth feels old and new all at once...and the familiarity is starting to awaken what's been left behind...it stimulates me, to bloom again.<br /><br />I peek through the unravelling edge...I inhale a breath of the newness, and of the opportunity waiting out there where the world is bright. I grab both edges, and in one swift motion, throw off that weary blanket that was eclipsing the future, for a brief, but necessary interval.<br /><br />I stand momentarily blinded by the embrace of the daylight. I realize I've been half alive in a way...dealing with the disbelief and apprehension of your abscence. I accept daylight's embrace... and listen closely to the whisper of hope urging me to believe in the bigger picture.<br /><br />And as I talk to fate again like an old friend, and a patient teacher...I am caught distracted. A man in flipflops, a white American Eagle t-shirt and an old pair of blue jeans is standing in the distance...his unforgettable laugh rings out, and he slowly nods. Fate turns to look at him, and then looks at me and confidently exclaims,<br /><br /><br /><strong>"All is well. All is going according to plan. Trust in the bigger picture."</strong><br /><br /><br />I can finally tell you friend...I'm smiling again. I know you and fate have struck a deal for the future, and I am proud that it includes things so near and dear to your heart. I'm making you a mountain of promises, and I know you're good on arranging the rest.<br /><br />Thanks for the 244. Thanks for TBW. Thanks for MH.<br /><br /><br />Thanks for being my Michael.<br /><br /><br />J. xoJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-73200874410401710862012-02-01T14:44:00.016-05:002012-02-20T14:58:05.956-05:00Dear Michael<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnahyyoW3seRbfPdCCqKC_AQTSWnvvgkDVFJK2U1eGhVHrX5fLC5qB-q_33DiXoC_9iSCGQcggbwL7lY77ovuHTFVaHPC7BZm3mGmIKSrtuclq89YsUcQNLVnM8MT0kBkqVBMYlsGZhtQ/s1600/michael.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 108px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704274762748007458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnahyyoW3seRbfPdCCqKC_AQTSWnvvgkDVFJK2U1eGhVHrX5fLC5qB-q_33DiXoC_9iSCGQcggbwL7lY77ovuHTFVaHPC7BZm3mGmIKSrtuclq89YsUcQNLVnM8MT0kBkqVBMYlsGZhtQ/s320/michael.jpg" /></a> February 1st, 2012<br /><br /><br /><div>Dear Michael~</div><br /><br /><div>It's coming again. You know, that time of year when the storm looms in the distance...and I throw back the curtains of my life...and watch it approach. There's no way to stop it, or avoid it...it will find me wherever I am, because it's not something I can outrun, escape, or turn my back on. It's that day...and I will live it, and remember that there have been 2 years with you not here. The briskness of winter winds whip around me..and my memories. They feel hollowing, and comforting all at once. I embrace the sleeping, frozen world at this time of year...because it reminds me of when you left, and somehow, that feels like the right correlation between the living, and winters suspended consciousness of life.</div><br /><br /><div>My sister met someone who knew you yesterday. She told me the story of this elderly lady who was your Sunday School teacher a million years ago...and how you were the most charming child she has recollection of. She said how proud she was to know you, and to witness all of the good work you did in those few short years, reaching out to the worlds forgotten ones. She spoke of how she felt when she said goodbye to you on that unthinkable February day...how her heart shattered...like the rest of us. </div><br /><br /><div>I think of you often when I am left to care for my nieces and nephew...and how your world too, revolved around the little ones in your life. I love them more, in your abscence...because I know you would advise me to do so. I picked up 5 bags of clothes yesterday to pass onto an out of the cold program. I will speak of you with gentle fondness, and fierce pride...my fearless, dear friend who left a countless number of hints behind...for how to live...who to be, what to believe, and where to go.</div><br /><br /><div>There's so much I want to tell you...so much I hope you now know. I loved you unendingly, my friend...and that doesn't stop. Life has moved on in ways...but that magic spell, that Michael impression is forever appearing my life...like drawing a heart into a frost laden winter window. You've left me with a, "do it now" attitude...whether it be to reach out...reach up, say something, or to create something that didn't exist before..it's you who has shaped me into the Jenn with 2 n's I am today. </div><br /><br /><div>Keep finding me, in your way. You know I am still looking for you...and trust my gut when I feel you around. I know you're still present...I know you're okay. Thank you for what it was that we had...for what we were. Thank you for the honesty...I have yet to go there again with anyone...you were special Michael...very special, my kindred friend.</div><br /><br /><div>You've become my go to answer for so many of life's questions. Why do I: Care about the homeless? Walk through grief with people? Choose to do what's right, and not easy? Tell people I love them? Give second chances?....Pick up pennies?</div><br /><br /><div>It's because of you, Michael...and always will be.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Miss you much kiddo..every moment, every day.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>J. xo<br /></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-43090470602259343172012-01-21T23:33:00.013-05:002012-01-22T09:50:05.552-05:00The Tangibles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAwJVOZXQqnwtj64DXiYvBaubKM_TbLUJxi-gQkxizMA1im9RCAA1-tIE0NdDQV3MCPIoqO6_X0jM-KB2QLzf2xa7TY2uf6X-msHWTIcDsMr_BRIQTLdhyphenhyphen99CeF2RCZwYHRNWDrL-tl4/s1600/tangible.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700320189733530626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAwJVOZXQqnwtj64DXiYvBaubKM_TbLUJxi-gQkxizMA1im9RCAA1-tIE0NdDQV3MCPIoqO6_X0jM-KB2QLzf2xa7TY2uf6X-msHWTIcDsMr_BRIQTLdhyphenhyphen99CeF2RCZwYHRNWDrL-tl4/s320/tangible.jpg" /></a>Some set goals. Some resolve to be resolute. Some make promises, either private or public...and some don't venture into commitments they feel they may not be able to uphold.<br /><br /><br /><div>At the beginning of a new year, I don't make resolutions. I do step into the newness though, mindful of where I want to be at the end of these 365 days...and where the past 365 have brought me to. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I spent 2011 choosing to be mindful in the big and small moments of my life. I'm becoming progressively more and more aware of how the past can either paralyse your future...or it can prepare you for it. I am 100% choosing the latter. Choosing to forgive others, and myself for imperfections and flaws...indifference and lack of awareness. For I am trying to believe, that we really are all doing the best we can with where we are in our life.</div><br /><br /><div>One truth that has become brightly lucent and luminous, is the fact that all things tangible, when related to people...are of the highest worth. Relationships that are lived out loud...in real life, face to face. Those good, bad, ugly and sometimes confusing exchanges...are still better than any kind of cold and empty text message, email or contact through social media.</div><br /><br /><div>We live so much of our lives in places that actually aren't real these days. We talk about Facebook like it's a busy, happening place, and Twitter like it's the coffee shop serving up hot, steaming 140 character shots of caffeine to our ever insatiable habit for information. We are relentlessly bombarded with the endless pressure to be happier, wealthier, thinner and more fashionable..and funny enough...we're doing it to ourselves.</div><br /><br /><div>I have chosen, in 2012, to be present in the tangibles. The conversations, interactions, heart to heart moments...unforgettable songs, hysterical laughs and all of those blissful moments that life is throwing my way. I have in the past, often chosen to picked up the phone to check a bbm message, or check my Facebook, when a real- live- breathing human being is sitting in front of me, and engaging me in aunthentic relationship. That kind of disregard is to me now, painfully rude, and unforgivably selfish....we are all worthy of 100% attention when we are spending time with those who we do life with.</div><br /><br /><div>Choosing to be present is hard work at first. It requires moment to moment decisions to be out in your life...and not creating a semblence of a life on a laptop. With 2 small children now in my life, the recognition of my role in their development of self and worth is paramount. They need to know that what they say, do, dream, and believe is all important to me...and that I am 100% passionate about the quality of their lives. Truth be told...I hope any and every person who is in my life feels that way, from my family, to my friends to my co-workers and clients. I am craving authenticity...out there, in that place we call the world.</div><br /><br /><div>So go get it my friends. That life you're dreaming of...I assure you, is just past the other side of your first step towards it. There is a great big, marvellous, spectacular world out there...now stop reading my blog, and go get it already! </div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-84248499604842405212011-12-23T19:15:00.010-05:002011-12-23T20:08:57.352-05:00The Auntiehood<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPLTr_lpiB8a6onxCBDsQWUF3VdcddJK_PD73sW3SoCLVB50jllHJWVE5xo-0cCjE9tUYRDvv5jm8e_St6dSmyVNiTXioAa5EFdcbN5mjMOwc_Rl8A5KKpgq22JdykKdRLFjYFSpeZlA/s1600/aunt.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 215px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689495318902406962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPLTr_lpiB8a6onxCBDsQWUF3VdcddJK_PD73sW3SoCLVB50jllHJWVE5xo-0cCjE9tUYRDvv5jm8e_St6dSmyVNiTXioAa5EFdcbN5mjMOwc_Rl8A5KKpgq22JdykKdRLFjYFSpeZlA/s320/aunt.jpg" /></a> She has wet hair. It looks like unravelled rope, and hangs wrecklessly almost to her waist. She is indigo eyed, with a perfect little girl giggle... she liked chocolate and can't wait for Ho Ho to get here on Christmas Eve.<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>He is a toe head. A term I had heard a bazillion times..even when explaining me, and mine. But trust me when I say, you will n'er see a more ideal specimen than you will in this boy. He prefers white chocolate, and likes ketchup on his Kraft dinner. He's one of the sweetest souls I know.</div><br /><br /><div>I live with them. My niece and nephew are under the same roof as my sister and I, for an undetermined amount of time...and life is perfect.</div><br /><br /><div>As someone who has wanted a family of my own...a home a flurry with plastic cups and dishes, milk before bed, and unceasing, brightly tinkling laughter - I was certainly at a loss on the timeline of the arrival of these things. When life spun a wee bit off course, and circumstances presented...life fell into place. It's not in the manner of my expectations...but it's exactly what I have wished for.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Children change you. Any parent would tell me I surely don't know the half of it. Perhaps because they are fluttering through that brief, yet flawlessly radiant time in life when all things are new...expectation is paramount, and disappointment lasts about as long as it takes to kiss someone on the end of the nose - I am aware pretty much every moment with them, that I am priviledged to be a part of this. The shaping of their ideas on happiness, and security...what is right...and what is wrong... all of those fundamental core beliefs about life are being formed...right before my eyes, right in the very shadows of my grown up life...every minute...everyday.</div><br /><br /><div>As I watch the precious littles dance in my room, often to music far too complex for their minds... I am breathless with the realization that they have had no disappointment...no one has told them they're not good enough, pretty enough, or too chubby to do it...they just feel it, and go. My nephew thinks he's an A1 breakdancer at 4 years old...and my niece is the baddest little spinner this side of the talisman in Inception. Perhaps I am biased? They, along with my other 2 angelfaced nieces are the best thing that ever happened to me.</div><br /><br /><div>Christmas will come in the wee hours of the dark just a little more than a day from now. We'll create our traditions for them...we'll be the fearless memory makers, just as our parents were...and theirs before them. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#333399;">Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see. ~Neil Postman</span></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-71084105918434564982011-11-06T22:08:00.013-05:002011-11-06T23:17:52.857-05:00Let It Be<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC7wlp2o4Lh09vGVe24WEU_eCSDC_TJG4jZ7STgsvCkc351HqLfwPYgcsAXef8aQhqrP6ldlHjPYBG_49hyWhF85cDfr7Zt7k0GwNVrk4AUTPminFc1Ot1wEB7_8ZtRf7LRcKzkbM3uz0/s1600/let+it+be.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 314px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672102359874051474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC7wlp2o4Lh09vGVe24WEU_eCSDC_TJG4jZ7STgsvCkc351HqLfwPYgcsAXef8aQhqrP6ldlHjPYBG_49hyWhF85cDfr7Zt7k0GwNVrk4AUTPminFc1Ot1wEB7_8ZtRf7LRcKzkbM3uz0/s320/let+it+be.bmp" /></a> Sometimes I find life quietly lulls along...it feels as if it's bobbing lazily along with the stream of my life. Of course, things are plodding along as normal, but those "shake you awake moments" seem to be sitting dormant and silent on the sidelines. And all at once, I seem to be whirling and buzzing with the bittersweet beauty of clarity...and those snapshot moments that I wish so desperately I could put on the inside of my deepest, most secret pocket.<br /><br /><br /><div>Goodbye's. Or maybe those moments you realise something is, in fact, over...are rarely happy. October presented a chalk full 31 days. A television appearance...an unforgettable vacation, a car accident, 2 brilliant concerts, a double dose of goodbye...and a night spent with 2 children caught in the wonderment of Halloween. I can say the month didn't end without my heart brimming to uneqivocal overflow.</div><br /><br /><div>Those perfect moments of the month keep everything in perspective...and the good surely does outweigh the bad. But with honesty, the goodbye's are bruising. They leave dull, aching pain and reminders of when life was a little less complicated...and when the unknown was exciting, and not scary. Learning that things aren't as you thought they were...well, who is prepared for that? </div><br /><br /><div>Goodbye means change. Sometimes it means a reboot of sorts, and a chance to start afresh without the constraints of ankle weights holding you to the past. It frees both sides to grow...if they weren't meant to grow and intertwine together. It inevitably, administers relief to one, or both parties. Sometimes, amidst the release...there is still the unresolved, hanging in the air like wispy smoke. Sometimes...you choose to live with the "why"...because "why" lives in a place called 10 minutes ago...and it just doesn't matter anymore.</div><br /><br /><div>So, now 5 days into a new month...I look back on October with a grateful smile...a renewed sense of what I want for my one and only life...and a few tears that I won't wipe away just yet. I accept what is...and I will let it be...whatever that may be.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432118446372073548.post-90718789684391131602011-10-23T12:59:00.008-04:002011-10-23T16:10:53.110-04:00Fair Trade<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzP-n0TE55XNhOMotp91X-QHXLI9oNycarzrFqBwFE337Avt0PV0bYcz8Qv8g_YSDIU-56xiHjPnQxUwN-WNtqnjTVuqnN-zskpQ3K2FQRpI-_dzSGCjAKHNWt6eNBInzYxYrLvkJ-tE/s1600/fairtrade.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666782365825433586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzP-n0TE55XNhOMotp91X-QHXLI9oNycarzrFqBwFE337Avt0PV0bYcz8Qv8g_YSDIU-56xiHjPnQxUwN-WNtqnjTVuqnN-zskpQ3K2FQRpI-_dzSGCjAKHNWt6eNBInzYxYrLvkJ-tE/s320/fairtrade.jpg" /></a> Everyday we trade things. I began trading stickers in primary school. Two scratch and sniff stickers were fairly negotiated for a puffy Scooby Doo. I was an avid reader as a girl. Library books were traded and consumed over and over again. Global economies are upheld by a trading system of commodities and stocks, and our financial stability is waged on the culmination of good and bad, long term and short term decisions.<br /><br /><br /><p>I traded 2 days of travel for an adventure between the Sea and Sky. I spent many hours in airports and airplanes, so to visit my incredible friends on the west coast, and one hell of an amazing city. As I flew across the country last week...over mountains and prairies, through cumulus clouds and time zones...I thought about the trade off.</p><br /><p>If we place the highest worth on those things that are most precious and impossible to duplicate, then the expense of our time should have the highest trading value in our lives.</p><br /><div>Sometimes we realise after a transaction, whether it was financial, emotional, spiritual or an increment of time, that perhaps, we made an unwise decision with our investment. As it may be, the pay off wasn't equal to the contribution. Or we realise what exists, was bound to change and develop...and the initial investment grows into a very valuable and strangely prismatic personal masterpiece. </div><br /><br /><div>We don't get our time back. Hopefully, we mindfully trade into those things and people that are going to provide a continual and flourishing return. A fear faced and conquered provides the most gratifying return on your trade. A fear faced and failed at, still provides valuable lessons and tools for the future. When we know better...we do better.</div><br /><br /><div>So think about what you're trading...your time..your heart..your money..your peace. Choose honesty. Work to follow your heart in your trades. Be fearless. Even if the only outcome you land with after the leap is clarity...I venture to declare, it was worth it.</div><br /><br /><div>“You have to let go of who you were to become who you will be.” ― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4415.Candace_Bushnell">Candace Bushnell</a></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01763589249363720410noreply@blogger.com0