It hit me as I was driving home tonight.
As I drove across the bridge above the Big Sioux River and saw the glimmer of downtown sparkle against the rain, the realization swelled over me like it'd been there all along just waiting for me to recognize it. It been a long day, but a pretty productive and uplifting one. Not all my days are like this, but this was one for the "good" category. As I thought about the day and took in the sight before me, it occurred to me that I found what I was looking for — happiness.
I'm not happy because of where I am geographically. I realized a short time ago that location doesn't make you happy. It helps, but if you depend on it you'll only end up disappointed.
I'm not happy because I've got money. Truthfully, I am barely getting by but money never impressed me.
I'm not happy because I'm in love. Also a short time ago, I figured out that another person can't determine your happiness. Only you can.
I'm not happy because of my wonderful friends and family. I'm not happy because I'm chasing a dream. I'm not happy because I feel more beautiful than any other moment in my life. I'm happy because of all these things.
I am happy because I have accepted the person I am and the one I'm evolving into. I'm happy in this moment, but know it's not exactly where I want to be. For the first time, I can enjoy what's in front of me and not look at what's behind or what's in front. I'm living for now.
Tomorrow might bring tears or anger, but today I'm happy. And today is all I got. Finally, I understand that. Finally.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
All you need is love
My life in commercial form. Sometimes you want to give up, but the feeling never lasts too long because you are cursed with passion. I'm cursed with passion and, deep down, I love every minute of it.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Grounded
Yesterday, a friend sent me a text message that said “Do you ever feel like you need to be grounded? Like everything is off?”
I did, especially that day. All my worries, frustrations, doubts, questions of fairness banded together to hit me hard. There is no one specific trigger, but several that caused me to put on my isolation cape and zone in on my sorrows.
Leaving work just before the panic attack hit, I fell apart in my car, which was parked outside my office. I cried, slammed on the steering wheel as if I was trying to get the air bag to come out and pleaded with my demons to take a day off. I told my colleague that I was but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be my in drafty, dark apartment alone.
Lately, I’ve been fantasizing about spending an evening in this small coffee shop near my house. I’ve lounged there in the morning and the afternoon, but never the evening. One night, I took a break from editing to grab some coffee from that place, and there was something magical about the environment. It was low lit with a few people, but charming and cozy. Since that night, I wanted to curl up on one of the leather couches with tea and my journal. In effort to find something that would calm me, I went there.
Following that same logic, I was delightfully surprised to realize the shop also sold beer and ordered one that I haven’t tasted since Idaho. I found my idyllic spot next to a lamp with a warm, hazy glow and furiously stroked my pen against the coarse paper. The tears soon started to fall and my attempts to muster them, and the sobbing noises, failed. The poor woman working must have been frightened by my actions because she pretended not to look in my direction and stayed busy stocking the cooler with apple juice boxes.
All my favorite people were present: loneliness, regret, doubt, hatred and self-pity. They laughed and howled as I tried to coax optimism to show up, but she just couldn’t find her way. The tears poured until the beer was gone. But when it was, so were the tears. And as a real friend show up to keep my company, the others left. The gnarled black pit in my stomach was unraveling and fading. Not completely gone, but it’s strength was severely weakend.
We chatted for a bit and laughed at a nearby conversation ripping on one of my favorite things to rip on. My stomach growled again, but this time for hunger. My friend had already eaten, but agreed to company me to feed it. Along with my coffee shop escapes, I’d been craving a meal at a sushi restaurant, also near my house. We walked across the street to the small local and were seated in a quaint booth. I filled my stomach to satisfaction with tea and veggie rolls. It was comforting, a good friend and good food. The mess of emotions from earlier still lingered, but not enough for me to not enjoy that moment.
When we left, it was raining. The downtown streets sparkled from the lights reflection. This city moment was another idea that retraced back to when my real life called for a timeout.
We hit up a movie and I went home and to bed with calmness. Again, those feelings were not obsolete and they could return another day, but they had surrendered for the night.
This morning I went for a run along the Sioux River. Besides one biker and a mother and child out walking, I was alone on the trail. I reacquainted myself with a few running songs and enjoyed the fast beating of my heart. My to-do list and left over feelings from last night soaked up my thoughts, but it was all pleasant.
Then I stopped. I stopped my music. I stopped running. I stopped thinking. There it was. It was wrapped in the fall trees that had lost a bit of luster from an early snowfall. It was presented with the thick brown river, looking still and fast at the same time, and the sound of water thrashing over chunks of rock. It was tied together with the coffee shop, the sushi restaurant and the downtown streets.
It was resolution; it was peace.
All that ailed me in the last few days, weeks, months all disappeared. The river and trees swiped them away and finally allowed me to let it go. I let go of the little day-to-day things that kept me up at night. I let go of the hurt caused by failed possibilities. And I let go of loneliness, regret, doubt, hatred and self-pity.
When I did that, I found me. I found the woman I know that I am and the one I know that I can be. A few tears fell, but they were peaceful. I was peaceful. I was grounded.
I did, especially that day. All my worries, frustrations, doubts, questions of fairness banded together to hit me hard. There is no one specific trigger, but several that caused me to put on my isolation cape and zone in on my sorrows.
Leaving work just before the panic attack hit, I fell apart in my car, which was parked outside my office. I cried, slammed on the steering wheel as if I was trying to get the air bag to come out and pleaded with my demons to take a day off. I told my colleague that I was but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be my in drafty, dark apartment alone.
Lately, I’ve been fantasizing about spending an evening in this small coffee shop near my house. I’ve lounged there in the morning and the afternoon, but never the evening. One night, I took a break from editing to grab some coffee from that place, and there was something magical about the environment. It was low lit with a few people, but charming and cozy. Since that night, I wanted to curl up on one of the leather couches with tea and my journal. In effort to find something that would calm me, I went there.
Following that same logic, I was delightfully surprised to realize the shop also sold beer and ordered one that I haven’t tasted since Idaho. I found my idyllic spot next to a lamp with a warm, hazy glow and furiously stroked my pen against the coarse paper. The tears soon started to fall and my attempts to muster them, and the sobbing noises, failed. The poor woman working must have been frightened by my actions because she pretended not to look in my direction and stayed busy stocking the cooler with apple juice boxes.
All my favorite people were present: loneliness, regret, doubt, hatred and self-pity. They laughed and howled as I tried to coax optimism to show up, but she just couldn’t find her way. The tears poured until the beer was gone. But when it was, so were the tears. And as a real friend show up to keep my company, the others left. The gnarled black pit in my stomach was unraveling and fading. Not completely gone, but it’s strength was severely weakend.
We chatted for a bit and laughed at a nearby conversation ripping on one of my favorite things to rip on. My stomach growled again, but this time for hunger. My friend had already eaten, but agreed to company me to feed it. Along with my coffee shop escapes, I’d been craving a meal at a sushi restaurant, also near my house. We walked across the street to the small local and were seated in a quaint booth. I filled my stomach to satisfaction with tea and veggie rolls. It was comforting, a good friend and good food. The mess of emotions from earlier still lingered, but not enough for me to not enjoy that moment.
When we left, it was raining. The downtown streets sparkled from the lights reflection. This city moment was another idea that retraced back to when my real life called for a timeout.
We hit up a movie and I went home and to bed with calmness. Again, those feelings were not obsolete and they could return another day, but they had surrendered for the night.
This morning I went for a run along the Sioux River. Besides one biker and a mother and child out walking, I was alone on the trail. I reacquainted myself with a few running songs and enjoyed the fast beating of my heart. My to-do list and left over feelings from last night soaked up my thoughts, but it was all pleasant.
Then I stopped. I stopped my music. I stopped running. I stopped thinking. There it was. It was wrapped in the fall trees that had lost a bit of luster from an early snowfall. It was presented with the thick brown river, looking still and fast at the same time, and the sound of water thrashing over chunks of rock. It was tied together with the coffee shop, the sushi restaurant and the downtown streets.
It was resolution; it was peace.
All that ailed me in the last few days, weeks, months all disappeared. The river and trees swiped them away and finally allowed me to let it go. I let go of the little day-to-day things that kept me up at night. I let go of the hurt caused by failed possibilities. And I let go of loneliness, regret, doubt, hatred and self-pity.
When I did that, I found me. I found the woman I know that I am and the one I know that I can be. A few tears fell, but they were peaceful. I was peaceful. I was grounded.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
The 25th revolution
Here I stand, at the onset of 25. Never once did I expect my life to be where it is when I reached this milestone age. Am I content where I am? Not really, but I appreciate it. All those ideas of where I thought I would be at this point are small towns along the highway leading to my eventual destination.
At 18, I was in caught up in my first love, who was serving our country on foreign land. Naïve and shallow, I believed my happiness was found in a sold gold band. When my beliefs and opinions began to deviate from the traditional, conservative lifestyle, I quietly hushed those thoughts, saying “Heather, those are not appropriate feelings.”
At 21, I found a new love of my life, or so I keep saying with each hopeful relationship. On the night of my birthday, I assumed that there would be a small diamond on my left finger before 22 came. We were that couple – the one everyone envied and agreed would last. We didn’t. My idea of the future was marked with skyscrapers and airplanes. His didn’t go beyond state limits and he knew, long before I could accept it, that our futures would never align.
At 23, I sat in a chain Italian restaurant, scarfing down fettuccini alfredo, hoping the other customers didn’t notice my tears. I was in a new place, on my own, but it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as I imagined a new life would be. I wanted to be with my family, my friends, my latest boyfriend (who I broke up with a week later) and the life I left. I imagined a dinner party with genuine smiles and jokes, all in honor of my birth. Instead, a dinner that wasn’t a $1.00 frozen pizza before covering a high school volleyball game was my gift to myself. After the game and my story was filed, I met some coworkers at our favorite local bar. It was another month until I finally realized it, but that night, I made a small acceptance to this new life. And although I thought it was an insult to the people and life back home, I kinda liked this life, the one of a poor, young reporter. Maybe in a few years, I’d be at a bigger paper, in a bigger city. Yeah, I thought to myself as I took another shot, I’ll plan on that.
At 24, my Brookings apartment was filled with faces that defined yet another chapter. Many of these people were extras in my life before Idaho, now there were leads. The backdrop was not what I had hoped for this birthday, and the people not expected, but I didn’t care. For one day, I let go of the grudge I held against myself and soaked up the joy. I realized that this is where I was meant to be and maybe I was OK with that. I knew the next day I might not feel the same way, but tonight I would allow myself to be OK with my decision.
My 25th birthday is a week a way and I am having a hard time deciding what that means. For goodness sake’s, it’s 25. I am still so young, yet I feel like my life is chipping away with each October. I think about all those things I thought I would have by now: a husband, children, a thriving career, a big-city life. I possess none of those things.
Last April, I decided to run the Twin Cities Marathon, held six days before my 25th birthday. At the time, I was trying to find another way out of South Dakota, applying for jobs all over the world. Nothing worked out, but none of those jobs felt right, just temporary satisfaction that could lead to a huge mistake. Grasping for some type of definition, I made it my goal to run a marathon before I turn 25.
But, like with so many of my goals, life intervened. A new endeavor absorbed much of my free time. I still made some time to run, but not much. To screw up my training schedule even more, I moved. I settled on the idea that once I was in my new city and apartment, I would devote my life to this marathon. Three days after I moved, I went on my first run in Sioux Falls. The pain started about a one mile, but it was tolerable. Then stings shot through my inner knee, each surge gaining pain. By the third mile, I couldn’t walk. I hobbled back to my apartment, believing it was just this run. A few days later, I was almost finished a three-miler when the pain forced me to topple over. Each run was like that – surrendering to pain at mile three.
Still, I thought I could do the race. I even led myself to believe that I would run as much as I could and then drop out. On Wednesday, I ran three miles, without much pain. Until, I climbed my stairs. I could barely bend my knee or stand for long periods of time. Oblivious to reality, I still planned to go as far as I could go. My body strongly disagreed and I fell sick to the exhaustion of two jobs. In a fit of tears and the idea of potentially hurting myself even more if I did run, I finally gave in. It’s always been my goal to run a marathon and my first would not be a half-assed attempt. I would not run the race.
At 25, I’m single, watching each dime, drowning in the demands of two jobs and trying to figure how I am going to fix a bum knee. This marathon was supposed to help me accept this birthday and things I haven’t accomplished. But I couldn’t even do it. And failure is laughing at me, like it has done every single birthday.
Yet, failure doesn’t win this one. At 25, I am the editor-in-chief of my own newspaper, pay the bills with a job I still rather enjoy, live by myself and have the best friends I’ve ever had.
I am a very different person going into 25 than I was going into 24. A friend recently commented how much I’ve changed in the small time she has known me. That makes me smile.
In my 24th year, I finally started to adopt those beliefs and opinions that I silenced for so long and now they are reflective in my lifestyle. I let go of unworthy friendships and am more selfish to my own needs. I am finally stronger than my eating disorder and can smile in the mirror, thinking, “Man, I am beautiful.” And a relationship or the number of friends at my side no longer define my happiness.
My life is far from ideal and sometimes it’s too much. Most days are a battle, but it’s one I am fine with fighting. I accept where I am in life and that this is just another town I pass through. Unlike other birthdays, though, I honestly have no ideas or plans for where I’ll be at 26. I like it that way.
To 25 …
At 18, I was in caught up in my first love, who was serving our country on foreign land. Naïve and shallow, I believed my happiness was found in a sold gold band. When my beliefs and opinions began to deviate from the traditional, conservative lifestyle, I quietly hushed those thoughts, saying “Heather, those are not appropriate feelings.”
At 21, I found a new love of my life, or so I keep saying with each hopeful relationship. On the night of my birthday, I assumed that there would be a small diamond on my left finger before 22 came. We were that couple – the one everyone envied and agreed would last. We didn’t. My idea of the future was marked with skyscrapers and airplanes. His didn’t go beyond state limits and he knew, long before I could accept it, that our futures would never align.
At 23, I sat in a chain Italian restaurant, scarfing down fettuccini alfredo, hoping the other customers didn’t notice my tears. I was in a new place, on my own, but it wasn’t nearly as glamorous as I imagined a new life would be. I wanted to be with my family, my friends, my latest boyfriend (who I broke up with a week later) and the life I left. I imagined a dinner party with genuine smiles and jokes, all in honor of my birth. Instead, a dinner that wasn’t a $1.00 frozen pizza before covering a high school volleyball game was my gift to myself. After the game and my story was filed, I met some coworkers at our favorite local bar. It was another month until I finally realized it, but that night, I made a small acceptance to this new life. And although I thought it was an insult to the people and life back home, I kinda liked this life, the one of a poor, young reporter. Maybe in a few years, I’d be at a bigger paper, in a bigger city. Yeah, I thought to myself as I took another shot, I’ll plan on that.
At 24, my Brookings apartment was filled with faces that defined yet another chapter. Many of these people were extras in my life before Idaho, now there were leads. The backdrop was not what I had hoped for this birthday, and the people not expected, but I didn’t care. For one day, I let go of the grudge I held against myself and soaked up the joy. I realized that this is where I was meant to be and maybe I was OK with that. I knew the next day I might not feel the same way, but tonight I would allow myself to be OK with my decision.
My 25th birthday is a week a way and I am having a hard time deciding what that means. For goodness sake’s, it’s 25. I am still so young, yet I feel like my life is chipping away with each October. I think about all those things I thought I would have by now: a husband, children, a thriving career, a big-city life. I possess none of those things.
Last April, I decided to run the Twin Cities Marathon, held six days before my 25th birthday. At the time, I was trying to find another way out of South Dakota, applying for jobs all over the world. Nothing worked out, but none of those jobs felt right, just temporary satisfaction that could lead to a huge mistake. Grasping for some type of definition, I made it my goal to run a marathon before I turn 25.
But, like with so many of my goals, life intervened. A new endeavor absorbed much of my free time. I still made some time to run, but not much. To screw up my training schedule even more, I moved. I settled on the idea that once I was in my new city and apartment, I would devote my life to this marathon. Three days after I moved, I went on my first run in Sioux Falls. The pain started about a one mile, but it was tolerable. Then stings shot through my inner knee, each surge gaining pain. By the third mile, I couldn’t walk. I hobbled back to my apartment, believing it was just this run. A few days later, I was almost finished a three-miler when the pain forced me to topple over. Each run was like that – surrendering to pain at mile three.
Still, I thought I could do the race. I even led myself to believe that I would run as much as I could and then drop out. On Wednesday, I ran three miles, without much pain. Until, I climbed my stairs. I could barely bend my knee or stand for long periods of time. Oblivious to reality, I still planned to go as far as I could go. My body strongly disagreed and I fell sick to the exhaustion of two jobs. In a fit of tears and the idea of potentially hurting myself even more if I did run, I finally gave in. It’s always been my goal to run a marathon and my first would not be a half-assed attempt. I would not run the race.
At 25, I’m single, watching each dime, drowning in the demands of two jobs and trying to figure how I am going to fix a bum knee. This marathon was supposed to help me accept this birthday and things I haven’t accomplished. But I couldn’t even do it. And failure is laughing at me, like it has done every single birthday.
Yet, failure doesn’t win this one. At 25, I am the editor-in-chief of my own newspaper, pay the bills with a job I still rather enjoy, live by myself and have the best friends I’ve ever had.
I am a very different person going into 25 than I was going into 24. A friend recently commented how much I’ve changed in the small time she has known me. That makes me smile.
In my 24th year, I finally started to adopt those beliefs and opinions that I silenced for so long and now they are reflective in my lifestyle. I let go of unworthy friendships and am more selfish to my own needs. I am finally stronger than my eating disorder and can smile in the mirror, thinking, “Man, I am beautiful.” And a relationship or the number of friends at my side no longer define my happiness.
My life is far from ideal and sometimes it’s too much. Most days are a battle, but it’s one I am fine with fighting. I accept where I am in life and that this is just another town I pass through. Unlike other birthdays, though, I honestly have no ideas or plans for where I’ll be at 26. I like it that way.
To 25 …
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Shameless self-promoting
Hello all,
First, my deepest apologies for the lack of activity on this blog. My life has been nothing but insane since the beginning of the summer and almost uncontrollable since Sept. 1. Nevertheless, life is good.
I promise to have a real update about my life and all the great things going on, but until then, I want to ask three little favors from my blog readers. These are simple things and they are actually directly related to my absence on this blog. Here they are:
1) Please visit www.ahamoment.com/vote/heather and vote for my video. The Aha Moment crew, a program sponsored by Mutual of Omaha, traveled the country to record peoples' aha moment. My video is one of 75 selected as semi-finalist in the Aha Moment contest. You have until Oct. 15 to vote for my video. The top 25 will move on to the final round and the top 10 will be featured on national television. So, please go vote for me!
2) Watch this great video KDLT did about the online newspaper I started.
3) When you are through with all of that, go check out the inspiration behind 1 and 2, The Post. We are celebrating our one-month birthday and it have been nothing short of awesome the past few week. So, please, go check it out.
I promise more later.
Love,
Heather
First, my deepest apologies for the lack of activity on this blog. My life has been nothing but insane since the beginning of the summer and almost uncontrollable since Sept. 1. Nevertheless, life is good.
I promise to have a real update about my life and all the great things going on, but until then, I want to ask three little favors from my blog readers. These are simple things and they are actually directly related to my absence on this blog. Here they are:
1) Please visit www.ahamoment.com/vote/heather and vote for my video. The Aha Moment crew, a program sponsored by Mutual of Omaha, traveled the country to record peoples' aha moment. My video is one of 75 selected as semi-finalist in the Aha Moment contest. You have until Oct. 15 to vote for my video. The top 25 will move on to the final round and the top 10 will be featured on national television. So, please go vote for me!
2) Watch this great video KDLT did about the online newspaper I started.
3) When you are through with all of that, go check out the inspiration behind 1 and 2, The Post. We are celebrating our one-month birthday and it have been nothing short of awesome the past few week. So, please, go check it out.
I promise more later.
Love,
Heather
Monday, September 14, 2009
Another post, another death
I didn't want to go most weeks. My mind was always on something else, something self-centered. I usually watched the clock click down to the last minute, ready to resume my life or join some evening plans. It never occurred to me what my time meant to them or how my presence impacted their presence.
Last school year, I volunteered to teach religious education at my church. To this day, I'm not sure what encouraged me to put my name on the list, but I did. With shaken and skeptical beliefs, I probably wasn't the best for the job, but I was there. I taught seventh grade to 12 kids transitioning into teens. Those kids taught me to look at life in simple terms instead of strings of hypothesis and assumptions.
Although it seemed like a struggle to conjure excitement about teaching, it was always pleasant when I got there. Their smiles, unending hope and youthful curiosity calmed me from whatever troubles I encountered. One day, I went in seething from the treatment of another individual. Five minutes with those kids and life didn't seem so bad.
There was one in particular that always put on a smile on my face. He was big for his age; in fact, it was easy to mistake him for a high schooler. He loved music and was smart with all As in his classes. He didn't always like class discussion, but when he added an interjection, it was usually a snarky remark far above the humor of the other students. He was a good kid.
Yesterday, he took his own life. At age 14, he decided his journey should end here. My stomach tightens and throat swells as I type those words.
Death seems to follow me this month. First my uncle, then childhood pet and now him. All different relationships to me and different kinds of pain, but I cry for them all. Each time the news was delivered, I wasn't able to show emotion. I had to wait until I was home to let the tears pour. I wait till its convenient for me to mourn and then I mourn.
Maybe I'm mad at life right now. Maybe I'm just tired from all that's around me. Or maybe my hope in life is being tested so much that I can't lean on it anymore. Right now, I'm just angry. I'm angry that another life had to be taken in an unjust way.
Yet, my optimism is a bitch that won't go away. She calms me, cries with me and, like always, reminds me the grace that still exists.
On my home commute, I encountered a gorgeous yellow and pink sunset wrapping its arms around the rolling prairie. Single trees were the featured guest of the performance and I only removed my eyes for a second or two to check my status on the road. In that light, I saw that 14-year-old blonde boy. I saw my uncle. I saw hope.
The sun has set and hope is a bit harder to find in the dark, but tomorrow it will arise again. He is removed from the Earth, but his memory will always make me smile. He could always make me smile.
Last school year, I volunteered to teach religious education at my church. To this day, I'm not sure what encouraged me to put my name on the list, but I did. With shaken and skeptical beliefs, I probably wasn't the best for the job, but I was there. I taught seventh grade to 12 kids transitioning into teens. Those kids taught me to look at life in simple terms instead of strings of hypothesis and assumptions.
Although it seemed like a struggle to conjure excitement about teaching, it was always pleasant when I got there. Their smiles, unending hope and youthful curiosity calmed me from whatever troubles I encountered. One day, I went in seething from the treatment of another individual. Five minutes with those kids and life didn't seem so bad.
There was one in particular that always put on a smile on my face. He was big for his age; in fact, it was easy to mistake him for a high schooler. He loved music and was smart with all As in his classes. He didn't always like class discussion, but when he added an interjection, it was usually a snarky remark far above the humor of the other students. He was a good kid.
Yesterday, he took his own life. At age 14, he decided his journey should end here. My stomach tightens and throat swells as I type those words.
Death seems to follow me this month. First my uncle, then childhood pet and now him. All different relationships to me and different kinds of pain, but I cry for them all. Each time the news was delivered, I wasn't able to show emotion. I had to wait until I was home to let the tears pour. I wait till its convenient for me to mourn and then I mourn.
Maybe I'm mad at life right now. Maybe I'm just tired from all that's around me. Or maybe my hope in life is being tested so much that I can't lean on it anymore. Right now, I'm just angry. I'm angry that another life had to be taken in an unjust way.
Yet, my optimism is a bitch that won't go away. She calms me, cries with me and, like always, reminds me the grace that still exists.
On my home commute, I encountered a gorgeous yellow and pink sunset wrapping its arms around the rolling prairie. Single trees were the featured guest of the performance and I only removed my eyes for a second or two to check my status on the road. In that light, I saw that 14-year-old blonde boy. I saw my uncle. I saw hope.
The sun has set and hope is a bit harder to find in the dark, but tomorrow it will arise again. He is removed from the Earth, but his memory will always make me smile. He could always make me smile.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Saturday, August 08, 2009
The Baseball Game
I’m not sure I’ve seen blood that red before. Of all that should’ve shocked me about his appearance, my eyes were fixated on the crimson tube. It connected the sloppy bag of blood hanging near his bed to some deep vein in his arm. I couldn’t look at where the end of tube and were it was inserted, I just stared at the excess plastic filled with that deep red, scary blood.
It brought the whole situation to color - an ugly, overbearing red.
They warned me that his state of existence was not good, still, I insisted on seeing him. Just a month earlier, he had been admitted for a failing liver. He was moved to a larger hospital then a larger one. They moved him back to the second hospital a week before my visit and hope to move him back to his home hospital soon. When he left the largest hospital, he was embarking on a journey to the end. He was dying.
When I arrived at the hospital, he was taking a bath so we waited outside. Our casual conversation seemed grossly inappropriate to the fight for life going on in the next room. The nurse finished and allowed us to come in. She left the door open and the first site of him stopped me. He looked familiar, but was it really him? I couldn’t move my feet, I just wanted to stare from afar. I regretted coming without even walking in the door. I wanted to walk past his door, find the exit and go back to my nice comfortable life. I didn’t want to realize what I needed to realize. I wanted to forget I saw him like this and just remember him as jolly with plenty of high-fives to spare.
I was introduced as I was still outside the room and before I could run.
“And you remember Heather?”
“Nooooooooooo” he said jokingly.
Humor is comforting like that. I could do this if he still had his humor, I thought as I took those steps into his room. I believe he used it at that moment to reassure me of my presence.
Most of what he said was incoherent. We asked him about the lunch menu and he talk about a dinner for 20 people. The doctor asked him where he was and he said the loading docks of the university. Much, none of us could understand. We just nodded our heads, saying “yeah” and hoping he wouldn’t see through our fake comprehension.
It’s not easy thing to do, watch you someone you love die. It’s hard to find the right words to say or to say anything at all. I mostly listened as the others spoke to him, searching for one ounce of the real him. I wanted to find him beyond the hospital bed and the scary bag of blood. So we resorted to the one topic that is perfectly acceptable to discuss on one’s deathbed: baseball.
We told him that his team – the Yankees – was in first place. That made him smile. We then asked him if he was going to a baseball game.
“I am going to go to a baseball game and I don’t care what I look like.”
Even if the whole experience shook me, I needed to hear him say that. It reminded me of who he was and it destroyed the image of what he’s become. His story is not a happy one. It shattered my optimism that life ends well and wonder if evil won this one. But at the end of his life, if his love for something so simple is still pure, then I can accept the situation. And honestly believe that good will, and will always, prevail.
That was the last time I saw him. For now, he’s at the grandest of baseball games.
It brought the whole situation to color - an ugly, overbearing red.
They warned me that his state of existence was not good, still, I insisted on seeing him. Just a month earlier, he had been admitted for a failing liver. He was moved to a larger hospital then a larger one. They moved him back to the second hospital a week before my visit and hope to move him back to his home hospital soon. When he left the largest hospital, he was embarking on a journey to the end. He was dying.
When I arrived at the hospital, he was taking a bath so we waited outside. Our casual conversation seemed grossly inappropriate to the fight for life going on in the next room. The nurse finished and allowed us to come in. She left the door open and the first site of him stopped me. He looked familiar, but was it really him? I couldn’t move my feet, I just wanted to stare from afar. I regretted coming without even walking in the door. I wanted to walk past his door, find the exit and go back to my nice comfortable life. I didn’t want to realize what I needed to realize. I wanted to forget I saw him like this and just remember him as jolly with plenty of high-fives to spare.
I was introduced as I was still outside the room and before I could run.
“And you remember Heather?”
“Nooooooooooo” he said jokingly.
Humor is comforting like that. I could do this if he still had his humor, I thought as I took those steps into his room. I believe he used it at that moment to reassure me of my presence.
Most of what he said was incoherent. We asked him about the lunch menu and he talk about a dinner for 20 people. The doctor asked him where he was and he said the loading docks of the university. Much, none of us could understand. We just nodded our heads, saying “yeah” and hoping he wouldn’t see through our fake comprehension.
It’s not easy thing to do, watch you someone you love die. It’s hard to find the right words to say or to say anything at all. I mostly listened as the others spoke to him, searching for one ounce of the real him. I wanted to find him beyond the hospital bed and the scary bag of blood. So we resorted to the one topic that is perfectly acceptable to discuss on one’s deathbed: baseball.
We told him that his team – the Yankees – was in first place. That made him smile. We then asked him if he was going to a baseball game.
“I am going to go to a baseball game and I don’t care what I look like.”
Even if the whole experience shook me, I needed to hear him say that. It reminded me of who he was and it destroyed the image of what he’s become. His story is not a happy one. It shattered my optimism that life ends well and wonder if evil won this one. But at the end of his life, if his love for something so simple is still pure, then I can accept the situation. And honestly believe that good will, and will always, prevail.
That was the last time I saw him. For now, he’s at the grandest of baseball games.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Deserving
“The only people you need in your life are the ones that prove they need you in theirs.”
After my last relationship, I made a pact to only let people into my life who deserved to be there. Men, friends and employers all fell under this umbrella that would block out anyone who didn’t help me be a better person. It was my first step into truly understanding who I was and embracing whoever that is.
This little rule became crucial when I moved back to South Dakota. In Idaho, friendships that needed to die did because of this new life and 1,800 miles. It was a relief to put some faces and names in my past because I believed I would never go back. Well, I did, and those faces and names were still there, so was the guilt from the quivering friendships that weren’t quite buried. To keep true to my pact, I would really need to focus on the good and true relationships and forget about any that caused an ounce a pain.
Last night, I was lying on my living room floor with five other people, curled up in every blanket and pillow I own. Several visitors created the opportunity for a sleepover, so we moved my furniture to the edges of the room and told stories that made us giggle to sleep. Amidst the goofiness, it occurred to me that not one of those five people had ever done or said anything that degraded me or brought me to tears. Rather, they soaked up the tears when they poured and assertively reminded me of the great I bring to the world. Last night, I was surrounded by people who deserve to be in my life.
I smiled as I finally gave into exhaustion and fell into a slumber. These five wonderful people gave me peace, but I also realized that being surrounded by truly loving people has become my standard.
Weeding out certain individuals and learning to let go of estranged friendships wasn’t easy, but for the first time in my life, most of my close social circle is comprised of people who inspire me to be the real me, to be the best I can. It’s the friends who promise to buy a copy of my first book or the ones who hold and pray with me when another has broken me. It’s the friends who laugh at my jokes and the ones who seek my advice. It’s the ones who just want me a part of their life that encourage, inspire and remind me. These are the people, along with my absolutely wonderful family, that make life worth living.
Making myself believe that I only deserve good people is hard, and sometimes I don’t, but I like who I am and the life I lead because positive people outnumber the negative ones. When problems and hurdles arise, they are much more manageable and those dreams don’t seem as far off.
A good friend and I were recently discussing happiness and how to achieve it. Not the happiness that comes when you get married, have a child, finish school, buy a house or lose that extra 10 pounds. But the happiness that is found in everyday life no matter location, marital status, career, belongings or financial stability – true happiness. To be happy with all that is front of me is a struggle, one I continue with, but surrounding myself with only uplifting people is tremendous in the pursuit of that achievement. I’m happy because of the people in my life.
Choosing only deserving people to live your life with is a life-long goal. You won’t completely fulfill it until your last breath. I’m getting better at letting go of unworthy friendships and relationships, yet I’m not perfect. However, I’m already such a better person just because of a pact I made two years ago. What’s more rewarding, is calling all these great people friends. Nothing in life is sweeter than that.
After my last relationship, I made a pact to only let people into my life who deserved to be there. Men, friends and employers all fell under this umbrella that would block out anyone who didn’t help me be a better person. It was my first step into truly understanding who I was and embracing whoever that is.
This little rule became crucial when I moved back to South Dakota. In Idaho, friendships that needed to die did because of this new life and 1,800 miles. It was a relief to put some faces and names in my past because I believed I would never go back. Well, I did, and those faces and names were still there, so was the guilt from the quivering friendships that weren’t quite buried. To keep true to my pact, I would really need to focus on the good and true relationships and forget about any that caused an ounce a pain.
Last night, I was lying on my living room floor with five other people, curled up in every blanket and pillow I own. Several visitors created the opportunity for a sleepover, so we moved my furniture to the edges of the room and told stories that made us giggle to sleep. Amidst the goofiness, it occurred to me that not one of those five people had ever done or said anything that degraded me or brought me to tears. Rather, they soaked up the tears when they poured and assertively reminded me of the great I bring to the world. Last night, I was surrounded by people who deserve to be in my life.
I smiled as I finally gave into exhaustion and fell into a slumber. These five wonderful people gave me peace, but I also realized that being surrounded by truly loving people has become my standard.
Weeding out certain individuals and learning to let go of estranged friendships wasn’t easy, but for the first time in my life, most of my close social circle is comprised of people who inspire me to be the real me, to be the best I can. It’s the friends who promise to buy a copy of my first book or the ones who hold and pray with me when another has broken me. It’s the friends who laugh at my jokes and the ones who seek my advice. It’s the ones who just want me a part of their life that encourage, inspire and remind me. These are the people, along with my absolutely wonderful family, that make life worth living.
Making myself believe that I only deserve good people is hard, and sometimes I don’t, but I like who I am and the life I lead because positive people outnumber the negative ones. When problems and hurdles arise, they are much more manageable and those dreams don’t seem as far off.
A good friend and I were recently discussing happiness and how to achieve it. Not the happiness that comes when you get married, have a child, finish school, buy a house or lose that extra 10 pounds. But the happiness that is found in everyday life no matter location, marital status, career, belongings or financial stability – true happiness. To be happy with all that is front of me is a struggle, one I continue with, but surrounding myself with only uplifting people is tremendous in the pursuit of that achievement. I’m happy because of the people in my life.
Choosing only deserving people to live your life with is a life-long goal. You won’t completely fulfill it until your last breath. I’m getting better at letting go of unworthy friendships and relationships, yet I’m not perfect. However, I’m already such a better person just because of a pact I made two years ago. What’s more rewarding, is calling all these great people friends. Nothing in life is sweeter than that.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
A random burst of inspiration
So, I missed last Tuesday for inspiration. Sorry. I was locked up in a project that I am working on and hope to tell you all about soon. It's going to be GREAT. Also, there won't be one next Tuesday either because I'm going to Texas with this girl!
She is moving down there with her husband and they asked me to come along. Since one-way plane tickets are outrageously expensive, I'm going to take a bus a back. I've been told that will be an experience, and you know what, I love experience ;).
Anyway, on to inspiration:
1) Anthony Joseph Mangan, because last week was Father's Day and he is one of the most inspirational forces in my life.
My dad has impacted so many of my life decisions and is always the calm voice in my storms. His famous line to me: "If this is the worst thing that is ever going to happen to you, then you are going to be just fine." He reminds that life could always be worse, always. He is also the reason I went into journalism. He is such a hardworking reporter and is able to dance on the fine line of good rapport with sources and holding them accountable for their actions. That is a reporter's ultimate goal. I love you, dad.
2)
Charlie Brown
There is a bit of Charlie Brown in us all. Even with his grumpiness and lack of valentines and party invites, there is a hint of optimism that we can all relate to. Some good quotes:
"In the book of life, the answers aren't in the back."
“I've developed a new philosophy... I only dread one day at a time.”
"I just laughed about it, ... I just thought if you're going to align yourself with somebody, it might as well be champions. He made his own decisions, not doing something just because you have to do it. He had his own sense of purpose."
3) Speaking of champions, lately I've been thinking and preaching the philosophy of Muhammad Ali.
Ali told the world he was the greatest. He believed he would be the world champion and never once doubted that idea. He never said could or maybe, he just said he would. And he was the world champion and is one of the greatest athletes of all time. I used to think Ali was cocky, but as I've matured I've realized what that kind of confidence can do. The first step in accomplishing anything great is to believe in yourself, and he did. It probably wasn't easy and some days quitting was probably easier, but he rested in that belief and never gave up until it happened. It's a lesson I've been pulling from a lot lately and it inspires that I too can be the greatest.
4) Prairie Sunsets
Nothing sets my heart on fire like a prairie sunset. Over a bed of green crops, the sun takes on this luminosity as it retires from our eyes for the evening. It can't be compared. They usually encourage me to write, paint, sing, dance or just be happy.
5) “This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun, and animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence towards the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown, or to any man or number of men; go freely with the powerful uneducated persons, and with the young, and mothers, of families: read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life: re-examine all you have been told at school or church, or in any books, and dismiss whatever insults your soul.” - Walt Whitman
6) Being silly with people who love me for all that I am
7) Fireworks
I love fireworks, but probably won't see any this year on Independence Day. Bursts of light through the air seem to give me this "I like life" attitude. When I was living in Pocatello, the Fourth of July was a miserable day for a variety of reasons, but those sparkles gave me a bit of hope. I returned to Poky the following year for the Fourth and it was a wonderful patriotic celebration. Here is video from last year's fireworks show. We enjoyed the lights from the hill in my former editor's backyard. Commentary brought to you by Kellis, Cy and myself. I miss them. Oh, and Osa is a dog.
Have a wonderful week.
H
She is moving down there with her husband and they asked me to come along. Since one-way plane tickets are outrageously expensive, I'm going to take a bus a back. I've been told that will be an experience, and you know what, I love experience ;).
Anyway, on to inspiration:
1) Anthony Joseph Mangan, because last week was Father's Day and he is one of the most inspirational forces in my life.
My dad wearing a tux at the annual Parade of Lights, because people who announce the parade over the radio should be dressed in tuxes.
2)
Charlie Brown
"In the book of life, the answers aren't in the back."
“I've developed a new philosophy... I only dread one day at a time.”
"I just laughed about it, ... I just thought if you're going to align yourself with somebody, it might as well be champions. He made his own decisions, not doing something just because you have to do it. He had his own sense of purpose."
3) Speaking of champions, lately I've been thinking and preaching the philosophy of Muhammad Ali.
Ali told the world he was the greatest. He believed he would be the world champion and never once doubted that idea. He never said could or maybe, he just said he would. And he was the world champion and is one of the greatest athletes of all time. I used to think Ali was cocky, but as I've matured I've realized what that kind of confidence can do. The first step in accomplishing anything great is to believe in yourself, and he did. It probably wasn't easy and some days quitting was probably easier, but he rested in that belief and never gave up until it happened. It's a lesson I've been pulling from a lot lately and it inspires that I too can be the greatest.
4) Prairie Sunsets
Nothing sets my heart on fire like a prairie sunset. Over a bed of green crops, the sun takes on this luminosity as it retires from our eyes for the evening. It can't be compared. They usually encourage me to write, paint, sing, dance or just be happy.
5) “This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun, and animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence towards the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown, or to any man or number of men; go freely with the powerful uneducated persons, and with the young, and mothers, of families: read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life: re-examine all you have been told at school or church, or in any books, and dismiss whatever insults your soul.” - Walt Whitman
6) Being silly with people who love me for all that I am
7) Fireworks
I love fireworks, but probably won't see any this year on Independence Day. Bursts of light through the air seem to give me this "I like life" attitude. When I was living in Pocatello, the Fourth of July was a miserable day for a variety of reasons, but those sparkles gave me a bit of hope. I returned to Poky the following year for the Fourth and it was a wonderful patriotic celebration. Here is video from last year's fireworks show. We enjoyed the lights from the hill in my former editor's backyard. Commentary brought to you by Kellis, Cy and myself. I miss them. Oh, and Osa is a dog.
Have a wonderful week.
H
Monday, June 22, 2009
A reminder
One of life's honest realities is that tragedy acts as a reminder to the blessings before us. What rips us apart sheds light on what holds us together. What crumbles us allows us to find strength.
Some how, and I'm not sure why, I've never had to experience true tragedy. Sure, I've had my heart broken and been betrayed by a friend, but nothing has ripped my life apart. And I forget that sometimes. I forget how freaking great I have it.
Something painfully awful happened to someone I care about. No pain I've experienced can measure to one percent of what this person might be feeling. My heart hurts for this person and I wish I could find the perfect words to deliver. But I can't. All I can do is send my love, prayers and support.
I can also be thankful for what's in front of me. The life I lead is not a mistake. All that has happened to me and all that has been brought to me are blessings, even if it took me awhile to realize it or still can't. I can't change the world's activities but I can learn from them. And I can love all those that make me who I am.
To my friends and family, I love you more than life itself. You are my strength, my air, my ground. What I am and who I am is because of the people around me. I owe you all of my accomplishments and blessings.
It's a beautiful, messy life, but it's all we've got. Please, please don't take that for granted.
The deepest of love,
Heather Marie
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Resolution
We strive for resolution the way we strive for happiness and love. It's intangible, but something we desperately seek. To have resolved, is to put a sleep and never waste worry upon again.
More than two years ago a situation arose that shattered my dream-like attitude and caused me to constantly check my actions. It made me doubt myself in the one area I'd always been confident, and the idea it could happen again was permanently stuck in the back walls of my mind. Although it's fairly common, I couldn't shake the wrong I felt. Even a year later, I lashed out at the other person involved - on the web - and dug a deeper trench between us.
This week, I met face-to-face with that person. Neither of us expected to see the other and carried on for most of the time like nothing occurred. As we were to part ways, the other stopped and said the second most powerful set of three words, "I am sorry."
Instead of accepting those words, I repeated them. I wanted my deepest apologies to be known the way the other wanted them to be known. To say it and to hear it removed two years of pent up anger and regret. It was freeing to rebuild that connection and know it's safe.
That tiny hint of resolution was reaffirmation for my future. The journey I am embarking on now may involve similar situations, but I have confidence and courage, knowing that it never had anything to do with my character. It's just part of the gig.
That person is not a bad person. I am not a bad person. And we both know that. It might have taken two years for us to reach that point or just for us to run into each other, but it's over. It's an ended chapter, one with lesson and humility. We now move on, better for having gone through that situation because resolution was ultimately reached.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Inspiration, a bit late
Hi, lovelys,
Sorry about the lack of attention to the blog lately. Lots of great things going on and, unfortunately, the blog suffers a bit. But, I haven't forgotten about inspiration. Here is what is inspiring me this week:
1) Tattoos
My momma and I got tattoos this past weekend and it was painfully fun. There was no one else on this planet that I would rather get a tattoo with than my mom. A pic of mine:
Belief is what gets me through the day, so I felt it was an appropriate permanent mark. Words are my passion so I went with type over an image and I am a fan of one word sentences, thus the period. Also, the tat is in one of my favorite fonts: myriad pro. And now you've seen my geeky side.
Here is my mom's:
The initials are those of her children and the orange ribbon means happiness. It's pretty awes.
2) Today's daily reminder on my google page:
"Do not let difficulty conquer you. You must conquer it. My Strength will be there awaiting you."
3) Consignment shopping
My new Friday tradition is to hit up local consignment shops and add little sparkles to my wardrobe for less than two dollars. Here are a few of my finds:
4) My buddies Scott and John
These brothers are starting something pretty remarkable and I am pumped up every time they talk about it. They are going to do incredible things and they invited me along for the ride. They have brought truck loads of inspiration to my life the last couple of weeks. And to think, I met them less than six months ago. Via Twitter, nonetheless.
5) Micah, who never lets me forget my dream of writing a book. He is also one of the most creative people I know, and when I spend too much time with him, the creativity rubs off.
6) When I was younger, I was very careful with word choice when I wrote little messages in greetings cards. The objective was to make the person cry (good tears, of course). It's funny because I still consider it a success when my writing brings enough emotion to create tears. I love this quote because it defines a truly remarkable writer.
"The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart." - Maya Angelou
7) Another one of my favorite writing songs. So moving.
Sorry about the lack of attention to the blog lately. Lots of great things going on and, unfortunately, the blog suffers a bit. But, I haven't forgotten about inspiration. Here is what is inspiring me this week:
1) Tattoos
My momma and I got tattoos this past weekend and it was painfully fun. There was no one else on this planet that I would rather get a tattoo with than my mom. A pic of mine:
Belief is what gets me through the day, so I felt it was an appropriate permanent mark. Words are my passion so I went with type over an image and I am a fan of one word sentences, thus the period. Also, the tat is in one of my favorite fonts: myriad pro. And now you've seen my geeky side.
Here is my mom's:
The initials are those of her children and the orange ribbon means happiness. It's pretty awes.
2) Today's daily reminder on my google page:
"Do not let difficulty conquer you. You must conquer it. My Strength will be there awaiting you."
3) Consignment shopping
My new Friday tradition is to hit up local consignment shops and add little sparkles to my wardrobe for less than two dollars. Here are a few of my finds:
The shirt, jeans and shoes are all lucky finds
Love this jumper. So cute.
4) My buddies Scott and John
John, me, Scott
These brothers are starting something pretty remarkable and I am pumped up every time they talk about it. They are going to do incredible things and they invited me along for the ride. They have brought truck loads of inspiration to my life the last couple of weeks. And to think, I met them less than six months ago. Via Twitter, nonetheless.
5) Micah, who never lets me forget my dream of writing a book. He is also one of the most creative people I know, and when I spend too much time with him, the creativity rubs off.
6) When I was younger, I was very careful with word choice when I wrote little messages in greetings cards. The objective was to make the person cry (good tears, of course). It's funny because I still consider it a success when my writing brings enough emotion to create tears. I love this quote because it defines a truly remarkable writer.
"The idea is to write it so that people hear it and it slides through the brain and goes straight to the heart." - Maya Angelou
7) Another one of my favorite writing songs. So moving.
Have a wonderful rest of the week.
H
Monday, June 08, 2009
Inspiring
Hello, loves,
Big ideas are a brewin' for this girl so I need lots of inspiration. Want some?
1) David Sedaris
I kind of want his life- live in France and write stories about the odd things that happen from day to day. His audio books are great road trip companions. High Plains Reader, an alternative newspaper in Fargo, just did this story on him. The fact that it sometimes takes him 11 years to write his stories is ultra inspiring. The ebb and flow of his work astounds me and it always leaves me wanting more. This story was my first introduction to Sedaris and one of my favorite Easter stories, well next to the resurrection of Jesus Christ of course.
2) Nike commercials.
Big ideas are a brewin' for this girl so I need lots of inspiration. Want some?
1) David Sedaris
2) Nike commercials.
Nike's advertising is solid from year to year and many of them give me this "I can move the world" mentality. Here are a few of my favs:
3) Michael Scott
Sure, this The Office character is an idiot at times, but idiotically brilliant. His heart is as big as the world and belief stronger than the ocean. Some favorite sincere Michael Scott quotes:
3) Michael Scott
Photo from here
"Finishing that 5K was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I ate more fettuccini alfredo, and drank less water than I have in my entire life. People always talk about triumphs of the human spirit. Well today I had a triumph of the human body. That's why everybody was applauding for me at the end. My guts, my heart and well I eventually puked my guts out. I never puked my heart out, and I am very proud of that."
"Who would've thought, that the thing that would save this company would be work. And pancakes. In the end, this day definitely had its ups and downs. I realized that we don't have the biggest office, which is a surprise, because 165 square feet sounds like a lot, but we have people with the biggest hearts and I think for a small company, that is really-- [toilet flushes] someone went to the bathroom... that is really what's important."
4) My friends Dessi and Shelly
They are both taking huge leaps of faith and believe strongly in the paths that are set before them. To do what they are going to do, takes an amazing breath of courage, but neither one of them could imagine doing anything else. I spoke with them individually about the life they've chosen and they remind me that each of us has a destiny and this is theirs. And they wouldn't have it either way.
"I didn't find the perfect moment. Because I think that today was about just having today. And I think that we are one of those couples with a long story, when people ask how we found each other. I, will see her, every now and then, and, maybe one year she'll be with somebody and the next year I'll be with somebody. And it's going to take a long time... and then it's perfect. I'm in no rush."
"Who would've thought, that the thing that would save this company would be work. And pancakes. In the end, this day definitely had its ups and downs. I realized that we don't have the biggest office, which is a surprise, because 165 square feet sounds like a lot, but we have people with the biggest hearts and I think for a small company, that is really-- [toilet flushes] someone went to the bathroom... that is really what's important."
4) My friends Dessi and Shelly
I only had a photo of Shelli, but, take my word, Dessi is GORGEOUS
5) "Why ponder thus the future to foresee,
and jade thy brain to vain perplexity?
Cast off thy care, leave Allah's plans to him —
He formed them all without consulting thee."
- Omar Khayyam, The Rubaiyat
6) The Sanford's Children Hospital
I had the amazing pleasure of attending a gala Saturday night in support of the Children's Hospital. That beautiful building and the passionate people who made it a reality gave me goosebumps, but the bravery of the children who inhabit the hospital brought me to tears. If we all had an ounce of the determination those children do, peace would resound. Over 1,200 people, donned in classy attire, attended the event in honor of what's already been accomplished and to show support for what still needs to be accomplished. I was so blessed to be there and I want to thank the Meyers and the Blues for inviting me. Simply incredible.
7) My sketch book
When I was younger, I begged my mom to buy me oil pastels to draw flowers and houses. I bought a sketch book and pastels a few months ago and it's amazing the creativity that flows through me after a couple doodles. I hadn't touched them in a couple weeks, but last Monday, I had a strong urge to just draw something. I filled three pages before bed. The next day, I went to work bursting with energy and came up with a fantastic idea for email art that required me to play with sidewalk chalk. It was a hit with the people in charge of the email and gave me a renewed sense of creative confidence.
That's all I have. Have a lovely Tuesday.
Heat
7) My sketch book
When I was younger, I begged my mom to buy me oil pastels to draw flowers and houses. I bought a sketch book and pastels a few months ago and it's amazing the creativity that flows through me after a couple doodles. I hadn't touched them in a couple weeks, but last Monday, I had a strong urge to just draw something. I filled three pages before bed. The next day, I went to work bursting with energy and came up with a fantastic idea for email art that required me to play with sidewalk chalk. It was a hit with the people in charge of the email and gave me a renewed sense of creative confidence.
That's all I have. Have a lovely Tuesday.
Heat
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Musical love
Today, I sat my in the middle of my living room bawling, asking God to give me strength, hope and clarity.
A few hours later, I received two song dedications from two people who I love so very much. Both of them wanted me to know they love me and are there for me. And now I can’t stop crying because these are answered prayers.
Here are the songs they sent me. Share one with someone special today. It’ll probably make their day. It made mine.
To those two special people, you are my blessings, my rocks. I love you.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Hope
Hope makes us believe in the impossible. Hope leads us to depend on silly notions and unrealistic expectations. Hope makes the bruises purple and the pain sting. Hope paints dream pictures that cover the hard truth.
Hope, though, gets us from day to day. Hope is the helping hand after a long fall. Hope makes life worth living.
And I'd rather stumble and lose 1,000 times than ever lose hope. Never, ever lose hope.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Tuesday of Inspiration
It's Tuesday and guess what that means? Inspiration! Here are my inspiring things for the first week of June :)
1) If you have not seen this movie, you must.
It's simply amazing. I may or may not have cried. Twice. This film reminded me it's OK to still believe in the magic of balloons, adventures happen every day and it's never to late to follow you dream. If you haven't seen this, go. Now.
2) Amy
I'm so freaking proud of this girl. She decided to move to Portland. The world gave her several reasons not to go, but she didn't listen. She stuck to her dreams and reached the West Coast Monday. To pick up and move away from everything you know takes great courage. It won't be easy, but it will be worth it. I'm already looking into plane/train tickets and hope to visit her soon. Amy, you are a star and Portland is blessed to have you!
3.)
I tore this headline out of the Argus Leader a few years ago. It was the Sunday center package and a story I still love to hear. The article was about SDSU's version of Rudy and his desire to wear the Jackrabbit uniform. His college career topped out to less than minute of actual game time, but he didn't care. Just a year out of school, this particular player sent a check to Coach Stig. He loved that program so much that he wanted to support young athletes who felt the same way. That story inspires me to donate, to never give up and to always be thankful for what you achieve, great or small. This headline has been with me at every job and I'll carry it with me until it disintegrates into yellow mush.
1) If you have not seen this movie, you must.
It's simply amazing. I may or may not have cried. Twice. This film reminded me it's OK to still believe in the magic of balloons, adventures happen every day and it's never to late to follow you dream. If you haven't seen this, go. Now.
2) Amy
I'm so freaking proud of this girl. She decided to move to Portland. The world gave her several reasons not to go, but she didn't listen. She stuck to her dreams and reached the West Coast Monday. To pick up and move away from everything you know takes great courage. It won't be easy, but it will be worth it. I'm already looking into plane/train tickets and hope to visit her soon. Amy, you are a star and Portland is blessed to have you!
3.)
I tore this headline out of the Argus Leader a few years ago. It was the Sunday center package and a story I still love to hear. The article was about SDSU's version of Rudy and his desire to wear the Jackrabbit uniform. His college career topped out to less than minute of actual game time, but he didn't care. Just a year out of school, this particular player sent a check to Coach Stig. He loved that program so much that he wanted to support young athletes who felt the same way. That story inspires me to donate, to never give up and to always be thankful for what you achieve, great or small. This headline has been with me at every job and I'll carry it with me until it disintegrates into yellow mush.
On a semi-related note: The development directors in my office give out a monthly Roadie award to someone who plays a crucial role in helping them accomplish their goals. They gave it to me for the month of May. It comes with a gift card to the University Bookstore. That made me happy :)
4.) This wall art at one of my favorite places.
5.) Lucy
The most inspirational thing in my life is people who follow their dreams. Lucy is a prime example. She's dream chasing and, at times, it sucks. But she believes in her dream so she keeps running after it. I believe in her dream and I believe in her. This girl is going places and I'm so inspired by the leap of faith she took to convert those dreams to realities. It's a long and tough process, but I have all the confidence that she can and will conquer those dreams. I can't wait to say I knew her when ...
6.) In my humble opinion, this is the best song ever written. It inspires me to write, to live and to love.
7) Modern Love essays
These move me and come from the softest part of the heart. I have a great idea for one, and hope to write it in the next month or so. Watch for it :)
Hope you feel inspired :) I do. Rest easy, children, and I will see you shortly.
Heat
4.) This wall art at one of my favorite places.
5.) Lucy
The most inspirational thing in my life is people who follow their dreams. Lucy is a prime example. She's dream chasing and, at times, it sucks. But she believes in her dream so she keeps running after it. I believe in her dream and I believe in her. This girl is going places and I'm so inspired by the leap of faith she took to convert those dreams to realities. It's a long and tough process, but I have all the confidence that she can and will conquer those dreams. I can't wait to say I knew her when ...
6.) In my humble opinion, this is the best song ever written. It inspires me to write, to live and to love.
7) Modern Love essays
These move me and come from the softest part of the heart. I have a great idea for one, and hope to write it in the next month or so. Watch for it :)
Hope you feel inspired :) I do. Rest easy, children, and I will see you shortly.
Heat
Monday Blog goodness
So, remember how I wrote about my geeky obsession/inspiration from Elsie and her bf Jeremy? Well, Elsie is doing this awesome 24-hour blog session and I really think all of you must check it out! It makes me so excited because when I check her blog seven times today, like I do most days, there will be an update! And I'll probably have Jeremy streaming on last.fm. today. Woot. That is fabulous news because I have some major designing and writing to do today and Elsie and Jeremy are great inspirations for my creative process :) Melissa and I have made it our goal to make the nine or so-hour trek to Springfield to visit the RVA store and maybe meet them both. So, go check out her blog and check out her RVA store for some cuteness :)
Sunday, May 31, 2009
An unexpected path
A friend of mine recently lost his job. After I spoke with him about the situation and what his plans are as a member of the unemployed world, I began to wonder what if that was me. What would I do if my source of income was shut off? What would I do if I no longer had a steady job that occupied 40 hours of my week? What would I do if I had no plan?
Then, a piece of me almost envied him. Sure, I know where my next pay check is coming from and I enjoy my job, but maybe he's going to experience something truly remarkable. Maybe by wandering a bit, he'll find what he's looking for.
I told him that this is a blessing in disguise, and today he called me saying the unemployed plans have changed. He is now employed and moving to Boston. For him, it worked out and the unknown only last a few days.
I know exactly what I would do if the rug was pulled out from underneath me. I don't have to think twice. How about you? What would you do? Maybe that's what you should be doing.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I think someone's trying to tell me something
This quote appeared on two of my tea bags today. I only drank two. It's a God wink, in more ways than one. Probably needed to hear it twice.
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