tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60738740359039650842024-03-05T16:07:12.257-05:00Seven WondersChristina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-44349501306910184532021-12-21T11:11:00.000-05:002021-12-21T11:11:21.814-05:00Four Seasons<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJDGML6iLOylqKFfk3gevkDSfWxjwMoFCznv50bHnkpNqJBWgHyVp6Hscg0xCUKXRgiRPn8a1imIkYVDDXTfYA3NhnPsglh5_HYYt44tVq7AZ19Uy86aiNWNYFJOLKSb0qA7GEFMaxkLH7kWuv2RH-iSwi2s3ol6OKRUMx3YDVPyFWMo4l1TCqMUa61w=s1204" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="1204" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJDGML6iLOylqKFfk3gevkDSfWxjwMoFCznv50bHnkpNqJBWgHyVp6Hscg0xCUKXRgiRPn8a1imIkYVDDXTfYA3NhnPsglh5_HYYt44tVq7AZ19Uy86aiNWNYFJOLKSb0qA7GEFMaxkLH7kWuv2RH-iSwi2s3ol6OKRUMx3YDVPyFWMo4l1TCqMUa61w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Winter</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Blown in by the wind</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To a barren wasteland</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Whitewashed by the weather</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nothing here, but here I stand</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s cold and I’m alone here,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Stretching out my arms</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s still in all the snow here,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Forgotten frozen charm</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m free for a while</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So I step into the snow</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a while before I realize</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t know where to go</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The sun is bright and blinding,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm lost in an open space</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The snow is deep and heavy</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">With the chances that I face</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I dreamed of warmth and light</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On the other side of cold</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I dreamed of possibilities</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To have but not to hold</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Build a cage around me</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a safer place to be</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Draw some lines out in the snow</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Plant some pines and watch them grow</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Build a cage around me</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a safer place to be</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll break the cage one of these days</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll bend the bars and walk away</span></span></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><p dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline;">Spring </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">After walking quite a long distance in the cold</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She felt like giving up and letting go</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She wrote some messages in the snow </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Explaining how she got here</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She lay beside a river, nestled along the bank</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Her dress was white and her expression blank</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It wasn’t long before ice formed a hard layer on top of her</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She said, “Here I’ll lie, frozen in time.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">(A Sleeping Beauty of sorts)</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Well, you know what comes after winter: </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Spring</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Everything has a chance to start over again</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Let’s start with the sun – it grew stronger and burned longer every day, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It saw the messages in the snow</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It blazed at the girl and said, </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">“Let me shine on you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Let me warm your soul</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Let my light be your light</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Let’s shine on the world.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">As the sun said these words, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">A small fissure appeared in the ice,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And the girl moved her hand.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">An oak tree nearby felt the fissure as well </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">He, too, read the message in the melting snow</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The words were crooked now, but were still readable</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">He moved all his branches as breezes flew past and said to the girl,</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">“You belong and your roots are strong</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">They were made just for you, with great love</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You may bend with the changing of seasons,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">But the roots, your deepest heart, will keep you true”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It wasn’t long before the sun melted the river </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">In its deepest places</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And the sun told the river about the girl</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The river began to move and chant and flow </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Over the girl, waking up the girl, saying, </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">“Come along now; it’s time to get up and move</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">When the ground is slippery, and when it’s easy,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Just keep going;</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s not the pace but the space you cross,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Whether a mile or a misstep,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Enjoy the flow of the river always.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">As the snow continued to melt, in the grass along the river, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Flowers appeared, from one moment to the next</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Crocuses, snow drops, forget-me-nots</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Blooming in time, breathing in and out and onto the frozen girl,</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">“We have not seen this kind of beauty before</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You’re the most beautiful you</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Your character lights up your face</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You’re glowing beneath all that ice!”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The flowers swayed in the breeze—</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">A warm breeze from the south </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Blowing Spring across the land</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Blowing Winter away</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">As soon as the breeze saw the girl, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It slowed and stopped at the spot</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It whispered and whirled around the girl’s ears</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Layers of voices, lovely and clear</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Gently, quietly, wisps of words</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">A melody began to emerge,</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">“Everything will be all right</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Everything will be all right</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I’ll take you above all fear where it’s bright</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And everything will be all right.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">By now, the girl thought she was dreaming, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Hearing all these lovely sounds,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Hearing words in the wind and flowers singing</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She opened her eyes and saw clusters of birds, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Loud birds, on branches above her</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It seemed like a racket at first,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">But when you listened long enough, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You could hear them whistle and repeat</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Within chirps and tweets</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The most beautiful song,</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">“Do you know how important you are?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Do you know that your life is a light?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s springtime; wake up and be free</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Lift your head, look around, never fear</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I promise, everything will be all right.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And with that last line, the birds and the breeze entered a harmony</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Sweeter than anything the girl could have dreamed up </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And Sleeping Beauty couldn’t sleep anymore</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You see, it’s springtime, and her life was green and growing</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She sat up with a gasp as the last bits of ice shattered around her</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">She stood up with a shiver and wrung out her white dress</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And along the river she ran</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Along the river she ran,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">With Spring in her step</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">With the flowers and trees, the birds and the breeze</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Cheering her on underneath the bright sun </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And she knew that everything was going to be all right. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Everything was going to be all right.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline;">Summer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">In between the trees</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">All the trees nobody sees</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The forest becomes silent</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Heat comes up from underneath</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Slow down and let it simmer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want a simple summer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Just the breezes through the leaves</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Just the sun under my skin</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Summer’s under pressure</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Friday feelings all week long</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">A mess of summer memories</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Are strewn across the lawn</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Out there in the streets</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">People piled in SUVs</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">They’ve got to live their summer dreams</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And stay ahead of falling leaves</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Summer’s under pressure </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Hardly here before it’s gone</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">If you move too fast</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You’ll be forsaken by the sun</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Slow down and let it simmer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I just want a simple summer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Just the breezes through the leaves</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Just the sun under my skin</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Stop</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Don’t go</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Just take it slow</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Stay </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Maybe pray</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Maybe listen to Coldplay</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Lie</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Under the tree</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Go to sleep, go to sleep</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Freeze time</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Summer time</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Simple syrup, squeeze of lime</span></p><div style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><p dir="ltr" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline;">Fall</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Remember the river? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">First frozen, it quickened in spring</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Meandered through summer</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">And slowed as it approached the fall</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Everything is about to change</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Amber and maroon</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Marooned on the shore</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I cannot go furthermore</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I can't go like this;</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Something has to change</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I need to grow into my wings</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The Falls are thundering</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The fall is wondering</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The chaos calls me, beckoning</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">But not before I change</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I need the winds of change</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I want to fly above it all</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Every-thing ends up here, I’m here</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Waist-deep in the chatter, the debris of the year</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The river pushes conversations, turns them around</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Pooling and collecting, then absorbing in the ground</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s happening so fast, I feel the water pull me in</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Multi-coloured memories are flashing from within</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I’m waiting for my wings to form ‘cause I don’t want to fall</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I don’t want to let go; I can be strong, though I feel small</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">On my way to winter, whether well- or ill-prepared</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">My wings are all I have, I need them strong, I can’t be scared</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Down below, way too slow, it will be different, but I know</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">Whether feathers fly or fall, it doesn’t matter: winter calls</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">The river chatters and repeats the things I’m worrying about </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I look down and play trust and push aside the shifting doubt</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I spread my wings and let go and feel the rush and now I know</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">That I can fly and I can feel and I am free and now I know</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I started learning how to grow these wings a long time ago</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">I started learning how to grow these wings a long time ago</span></p></span></div></span></span></div>Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-79660076915620726002021-09-29T10:43:00.001-04:002021-09-29T10:46:54.134-04:00Version 40.0<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQahAyfjErrQ91YI_adgWOUfnqG4w94zxDRJwBHqMvcXSjymXc4bjOAOIM7F7m4MLA3KX_p3kBK4yhpas8ReQLTixKVJinH9GfNQSQ8hoZ4X9JVO1UAXUniHnV9B5zNEhSUtmAhpxL_wgs/s2048/adi-goldstein-Hli3R6LKibo-unsplash.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQahAyfjErrQ91YI_adgWOUfnqG4w94zxDRJwBHqMvcXSjymXc4bjOAOIM7F7m4MLA3KX_p3kBK4yhpas8ReQLTixKVJinH9GfNQSQ8hoZ4X9JVO1UAXUniHnV9B5zNEhSUtmAhpxL_wgs/s320/adi-goldstein-Hli3R6LKibo-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I turned 40 today. </p><p>40 feels, well, ten years older than 30. When I turned 30, I shared my thoughts about it <a href="https://christinas7wonders.blogspot.com/2011/09/three-cheers-for-thirty.html" target="_blank">here</a>. I sounded so much younger—ten years younger, to be exact.</p><p>At 40, you have a lot of life to look back on. The fact that 20 years ago, I was an adult, kind of blows my mind. </p><p>(I’m good at math, eh?)</p><p>I guess I need to do these equations to really feel the significance of 40.</p><p>Now, I say things my parents used to say. I tell my kids, “When I was your age, we didn’t have the Internet. We had to drive to a place called Blockbuster and rent physical movie DVDs to watch...and then we had to return them!” </p><p>Now, having a good night’s sleep is an emergency situation. I feel like I'm ahead of the game if I'm in bed before 10 p.m. Which is my bedtime. Because I'm an adult and I have a bedtime.</p><p>Now, the top shelf of my pantry is full of supplements.</p><p>Just like my body really craves and needs balance and yells at me when I slip out of equilibrium, my mind seems to need the same sort of balance now more than ever before. Imbalance is a problem that can't go ignored.</p><p>I've spent a lot of time, had a lot of conversations, filled a lot of journals and cluttered a lot of space in my mind trying to figure life out--trying to find the balance. My purpose. What I would do. Why certain things happened in certain ways. As though life is a complex math problem, not just simple addition and subtraction.</p><p>As my 30s ebbed away, I felt left with this determination, this intuitive warning, this desire to just be as much as I have been doing, doing, doing (but never quite doing enough). That duality of life, being and doing, requires equilibrium, and I've never appreciated that so much as I do now. </p><p>In the "being" is where I've found a lot of magic.</p><p>Maybe it's my age, maybe it's the fullness of life and all its relationships and responsibilities at "middle age" that grows a desperation to find calm, or rest, or peace, or a break, or a minute, or a moment, but I have never felt so indebted to nature as I have recently for its truth, its raw beauty, its honesty. </p><p>It only takes a moment for nature to astound you:</p><p>Lying on the grass and listening to the wind in the trees, the catbird's original song to the left, the deafening buzz of prehistoric-looking cicadas hidden in sycamores with peeling trunks to the right. Walking through quiet woods covered in multidimensional green from the sky to the forest floor, surrounded by the stillness and reassurance of friendly, old trees. Sitting in a kayak in the middle of a northern lake, a panorama of trees on hills outlining inky, sparkling water that diffuses all the anxiety in your stomach, replacing it with a weighted calm. The sacred moment of a striking sunrise at its height of intensity. The silhouette of a white pine shaped by the prevailing winds. I'm gonna cry.</p><p>I find myself desperate for it--a walk down a path, a bird song, a clump of moss, the texture of clouds in the sky, the joy of the sun, the earthy scent of the rain. When you're always "doing," you can easily miss these moments. Just "being" in nature allows you to fall under its spell.</p><p>The cartography of my heart has also become more detailed, more complex. I have always felt this way, but after 40 years of knowing and loving so many people, I can honestly say with conviction that there is no greater joy than what comes from an honest and unfettered conversation, a squeezy hug or a gut-clenching belly laugh shared with someone I love. The thrill of connection remains at the pinnacle of what I value in life.</p><p>I feel like the same person I was when I was younger, just the newly-released version: Version 40.0.</p><p>I've finally noticed and accepted things about myself that perhaps I never wanted to acknowledge. You know, the pesky attributes that simmer under the surface until you are ready to say hi to them, acknowledge their existence and either help them find a place in your life or deal with them so they are no longer that constant, annoying burden.</p><p>I've also had to accept the harsh realities of life that my Version 20.0 or even Version 30.0 self may have been too naive to understand. Amidst the many lovely and fun and exciting and rewarding and amazing experiences of my life, I've seen more unbelievable things happen the longer I have lived, and therefore had to believe that they could happen, which also means accepting that they could happen again. There is much to lose. I suppose one would have seen these things happen by the time your life is statistically half over.</p><p>But in a world like the one we live in right now, which feels more strange and less safe by the day, which has been infected by a pandemic of many things, and after having dealt with many challenges, I can see that all the dusky days, the cloud cover, the darkness, the strangeness, the difficulties and the disappointments are what allow me to realize and appreciate the good, all the little bits of happy that really matter SO MUCH...that glow and dance like fireflies against a sometimes dark backdrop:</p><p><br /></p><p>crafting the perfect cheese sauce</p><p><br /></p><p>coconut whipped cream in my coffee</p><p><br /></p><p>the memes and jokes shared in group chats</p><p><br /></p><p>the unexpectedly delightful things my kids say</p><p><br /></p><p>the whispered breezes of kindness from others</p><p><br /></p><p>the joy of making soup for loved ones</p><p><br /></p><p>the jeans that solve a multitude of problems</p><p><br /></p><p>karaoke and then more karaoke and then one more song and then JUST one more song </p><p><br /></p><p>finishing a fantastic book and wandering around for days in the after-haze</p><p><br /></p><p>the legacies we're all weaving together</p><p><br /></p><p>This is how I feel at 40.</p><p><br /></p>Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-34090999481280288582020-03-25T20:08:00.003-04:002020-03-26T09:12:03.034-04:00Living with Uncertainty<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobCR3-0H0gLrxFvI6D5gPW-fHVm7JzYIJjiVa9_ecEnt2NG5D6JqsIImXhcz4N78-Vtv8tM06qYeAdjVE_817HQFOhYV1PybjHbqTg7BjnqFU7EfsV50Kh31OCQV_d-BDlLk4AZX_PZBT/s1600/20200303_082733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobCR3-0H0gLrxFvI6D5gPW-fHVm7JzYIJjiVa9_ecEnt2NG5D6JqsIImXhcz4N78-Vtv8tM06qYeAdjVE_817HQFOhYV1PybjHbqTg7BjnqFU7EfsV50Kh31OCQV_d-BDlLk4AZX_PZBT/s320/20200303_082733.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Wow, eh?! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The last couple of
weeks have been a lot to take in. We are in the middle of a pandemic, it’s all
over the news, and it’s the only thing that we are talking about. In less than
two weeks, our lives have been upended and we are struggling with how to make
sense of what is going on and how to carry on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It's hard to believe that we were doing "normal" things only a few weeks ago, like going to hockey games, getting together with friends, running into a grocery store well-stocked with toilet paper and not thinking twice about the abundance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ve been feeling this
strange feeling every day. The feeling that feels “different,” that we are in
the midst of “unprecedented times,” that if we don’t try really hard to do what
experts urge us to do, that Canada could be in the midst of a disaster like China, Italy, Spain and other countries in the world are, all from a
virus that we can’t see, we don’t know where it is, but we’re all trying to
protect ourselves from it. This is truly a lot to take in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">All of a sudden, our
daily lives look really different. My most significant goal for the week is
planning out meals so I can order groceries that will last us for a week. This
is hard when you tend to forget things and end up having running backup lists
of the things you forgot and still need. This is hard when you have chocolate
cravings and are down to the last spoonful of Nutella. For many of us, we’re
home with kids and trying out some sort of new routine with homeschooling. Some
days are good, but others are pure frustration. By 6 p.m., I'm pretty exhausted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Whenever I look in the
mirror, I see a worried face. Lennon keeps apologizing to me, and when I ask
why, he tells me that I look mad and he thought he did something wrong. “No,
buddy, I’m not mad, this is just how I look now.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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{<i>Oh no, my frown lines
are deepening.</i>}<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">definitely</b>
need Botox when this is all over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“When this is all
over” is a phrase I’ve heard and said a few times over the past couple of days.
Coronavirus is like a dark cloud, and we don’t know how far it stretches. We
know it’ll be over some day, but we don’t know when. It’s shrouded in
uncertainty; we're walking into the fog. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">These are certainly
uncertain times. How long will this go on for? How long will we need to
distance ourselves from one another? How long with the kids be out of school?
How long will businesses remain closed? How bad will things get before they get
better—where is the peak of the curve? Will I get coronavirus or do I know someone
who will get it? What will the summer look like? What will the rest of this
year look like? For how long will finances and the economy be affected by the
pandemic? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The answer to all of
these questions is the same: “We don’t know.” Nobody knows. We’re living in uncertain
times. In a year, we will be able to look back and comment on what happened, but right now, it feels like a complete mystery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Uncertainty welcomes
fear, anxiety and worry in with a flourish: “Come on in! Make yourself
comfortable! Sit down and stay awhile…let’s use our imaginations and create some
worst-case scenarios!” This is how I tend to deal with uncertainty, and I’ve
definitely had some panicky moments in the past couple of weeks. (Hormones make
it even worse – “pandemic PMS” feels a bit apocalyptic.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I feel, and maybe you
do as well, that the uncertainty here is the hardest part to come to terms
with. The not knowing what comes next. The news literally changes by the
minute, and it’s all happening so fast that we are still reeling from what
happened a week ago, not to mention what is happening right now. Being in a
state of not knowing is so challenging and frustrating because there is no way
to plan for anything past tomorrow.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only thing we can really do is learn to be OK with uncertainty. It’s such an uncomfortable feeling, but we <b><i>can </i></b>accept the fact that we do not know exactly how things will turn out, and then maybe uncertainty won't feel as uncomfortable anymore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">This reminds me of when I was pregnant, and the
only position I could sleep in around my huge belly was really awkward and
really uncomfortable. I would lie on my side with one arm kind of wrapped
around my chest and the other draped along the length of my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This frustrated me so much, and I remember
being upset at first because it was so uncomfortable (being pregnant is far
from comfortable as it is), so it took me a while to get used to sleeping that
way. In the end, I just had to learn how to relax enough to sleep in a very
uncomfortable position.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We can learn to live with this uncertainty without letting it destroy us with fear and worry. We can learn to relax in the face of a million questions.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So many people
throughout the ages have lived through an unprecedented time and did not know
what was going to happen next. We are here, living in this chapter of history,
and we can’t do anything about it but accept it and trust that everything will
be OK—that this will be over one day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because we are the
ones living in this chapter of history, we have a responsibility associated
with living in this time. We may not know exactly what it is right now (ask me in a year),
but we can start with being honest with our feelings, helping in whatever way
we can, putting on a smile for our kids and looking to God for guidance in
these day-by-day times. Knowing that we have a place here in this moment gives
a sense of purpose. We’re here for a reason, and even by just <b><i>being </i></b>here today, even if we don’t know what tomorrow brings, we are contributing to a
moment in history.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If we can be OK with
this feeling of discomfort, this feeling of uncertainty, instead of letting it
catapult us into a state of fear and anxiety about the future, we can survive as
best we can in “today.” It forces us to live in today, make the most of today
and be grateful for what we have today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What is helping me to
come to terms with this uncertainty is putting my trust in God, completely. He
knew this was going to happen. He loves us and He cares – He has a plan for
each of us to get through this and come through at the other end with a
positive outcome, both individually and collectively. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m really trying,
every day, to practice trusting God and being OK with the uncertainty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t know what the
future may hold, but I know who holds the future.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">-Ralph Abernathy<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Wishing you all safety and health during this time! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-65613178847259920972019-12-15T15:47:00.001-05:002019-12-15T15:47:34.034-05:00The Space Between Intention and Interpretation<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnXc-gpsvNnsQ_hmLWAgauxurvRoGmn2m6tlkNeJtMQiKIX_2076-Voidvwz97jPDfmnTQeIaBoTlP2Ked5M3CdO5FwRJtjvBu9gkGvOHddpprEebLm71Wy7JkoBswlL8qSh7gBGcs-85/s1600/Space+is+the+Place.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1366" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtnXc-gpsvNnsQ_hmLWAgauxurvRoGmn2m6tlkNeJtMQiKIX_2076-Voidvwz97jPDfmnTQeIaBoTlP2Ked5M3CdO5FwRJtjvBu9gkGvOHddpprEebLm71Wy7JkoBswlL8qSh7gBGcs-85/s320/Space+is+the+Place.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Communication goes
something like this: Person A says or does something—words or an action on a
blank piece of paper—which is then shaped and coloured in by that person’s personality,
life experiences, current mood, and of course, whatever intention Person A had
in the first place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Honey, I think you
should go with the red dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Then that piece of
communication falls into a giant space. The Space Between Intention and
Interpretation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Person B will
eventually receive that piece of communication and based on their own
personality, life experiences and current mood, will make a choice about just
how he or she will interpret that piece of information.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“So you’re saying I
look bad in the black dress. Jerk.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What happens in the
Space? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A LOT can happen in
the Space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The Space is the place
where the difference between intention and interpretation is established—where
assumptions reign supreme. The Space is the place where a good intention can
become transformed into a malicious one, where a meaningless exchange can morph
into a unkind gesture, where an action can be turned all the way around and
upside down—where not responding to a text message can change from “I forgot to
text you back” to “she must be mad at me…I must have said something to upset
her.” The Space is the place where something simple can become unnecessarily
complex, where an answer can raise more questions, where innocence can be
turned into something to feel guilty about. The Space is the place where
offense is born.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There is a potentially
massive disconnect that threatens between intention and interpretation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Whatever you say or do
is thrown out there and can very easily end up in that Space. You have no control
over what happens in that Space, or just how it comes out on the other end.
Your intentions may not be interpreted in a linear, simple way. Your intentions
may be unclear to the receiver, or Person B’s interpretation of your intention
might have gotten all messed up in the Space. It’s humanity, and we deal with
it every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">This problem is woven
into the fabric of TV shows, movies and real-life stories alike. Watch any
episode of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Thomas the Tank Engine</i> or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Daniel Tiger’s Neighbourhood</i> and you’ll
see that right from the start, we are showing our kids that we struggle as
humans with communicating how we feel and understanding just how our words or
actions are going to be received. We often need to have a reconciliation
conversation to clear the air and make it right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Watch any sitcom or
rom-com or plain-old com or the news or your Facebook or Twitter feed and you will see loads of people
feeling slighted, hurt or offended by something someone said or did. There are
a lot of memes circulating about that these days, which also speaks to the sort of
sociocultural climate we are living in right now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">People can be mean, of
course, and blatantly so, and we all have a right to stand up for what we
believe in and what we feel is right, but I also wonder just how many situations could be resolved by
exploring Person A’s actual intentions, and by Person B exploring how and why
he or she arrived at that understanding. I wonder how often intentions were either
communicated poorly or interpreted differently than intended. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Anais Nin said, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We don’t see things
as they are. We see things as we are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We look at every
situation through our own perspective, and even when we are trying to be nice,
trying to be helpful, trying to prove something about ourselves, trying to show
others that we want to feel important, trying to do the right thing or trying
not to offend anyone, there’s no guarantee that our words or actions will be
received in the manner with which they were delivered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I wish that all of the
things I’ve said to people and all of my actions were interpreted as I intended
them. But I know that’s not the case. I also wish that I could have tried
harder to shape my communications with a clearer intention so there would be
less of a chance of them being misinterpreted. But I’m not perfect, and I haven’t.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There are times when I
wish I could have said the perfect thing to comfort or encourage someone, or
said the perfect thing to break the ice and start a good conversation, or ask
the appropriate and considerate question, or just done what I know I should
have done, but instead I’m sure I have often peppered the Space with questions that seemed awkward or responses that sounded like flat, run-of-the-mill catch phrases that were just asking to be
interpreted as such instead of with the colour of caring or kindness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Maybe in some cases, particularly if it was someone who knows me well, Person B knew my heart and understood my
intentions, and interpreted them in the best possible way, but we can’t know
that for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There have been times
when I have felt hurt, stressed, jealous or angry and ended up speaking through
the filter of those things. There are also times when I know I have felt hurt
or misunderstood someone’s actions toward me, and letting it bother or offend
me when instead it was an invitation to look more closely at the intention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">How many times have
you lain awake at night, worrying about how you said something and realizing
that even though you meant it one way, your comment could have been interpreted
in a different way? We stress about how our intentions were interpreted, and
sometimes it was rightly so—an invitation to make it right—but other times, it could
be our insecurities telling us we did something wrong, when in fact the person
actually understood our intentions. How many times have you tried to clear your
conscience by bringing up a conversation you had with someone weeks ago, only
to find out the person doesn’t even remember the conversation, or didn’t
interpret it the way you worried it was interpreted? The Space can make things so messy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">How can we be clearer
about our intentions without becoming a robotic Captain Obvious? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Why is there such a
huge gap in understanding? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Why are more and more people choosing to feel
offended about things that could possibly be misunderstood intentions or just
someone having a bad day? Perhaps the Space is magnified because of social
media and the freedom and availability people have to use social platforms to
speak their minds and express their opinions, but then it's our responsibility to manage and navigate the Space with maturity, humility, strength, grace, mercy and love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ve noticed with
myself that I tend to interpret communication in a more negative way the more
hurt, angry and uncaring I feel. When my sense of
self-worth is low, I tend to be vulnerable to misunderstandings and
prone to impatience—that’s when I can make something out of nothing. That's when I can say hurtful things, even though I won't really mean them tomorrow. That’s
when the Space widens. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">On the other hand,
when I’m feeling confident within myself and understand all of my
imperfections, I am way more capable of loving and understanding others. When I
take the time to work on my own vulnerabilities, when I work through negative
feelings and let go of things, and when I take care of myself, things don’t
bother me or affect me nearly as much. I am way more adept at interpreting
intention. I love to understand. I can build a bridge over the Space.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I wonder if perhaps
humility and strength could bring us to a place where we can more easily understand others…a
place where we can receive words and actions with love and in the same way,
give our words and actions away with love. Love is definitely the strongest
material with which to build a bridge of understanding—to shrink the Space.
Love covers over a multitude of wrongs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What was my intention
for writing this? I want to
point out the existence of the Space between intention and interpretation with
the hopes of making it smaller—with the hopes of building bridges of understanding.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-76458173456837542762019-10-13T12:53:00.002-04:002019-10-13T12:54:11.297-04:00Purpose<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9L8fVwa4gbGvP4vkCHbHRiMjxYDrlGw9olZfTdBsQFncptIlNhMzUr6FYfakdlbt09LQF9Ak5xB-Y4ky7wR0f8jC3pdPs04WCTeAzEUBHI9oBCg9n7qjsWnM1zKzh2Hf0KnzVOJ0ZA9XF/s1600/20181108_081221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9L8fVwa4gbGvP4vkCHbHRiMjxYDrlGw9olZfTdBsQFncptIlNhMzUr6FYfakdlbt09LQF9Ak5xB-Y4ky7wR0f8jC3pdPs04WCTeAzEUBHI9oBCg9n7qjsWnM1zKzh2Hf0KnzVOJ0ZA9XF/s320/20181108_081221.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I had a conversation
about purpose with some friends the other day. The topic of “purpose” is one
that I am passionate about; everyone has a purpose in life and it’s what gives
us the motivation to continue when things get difficult, a sense of importance
and significance, a reason to live. Purpose is the fuel that keeps us going;
purpose is the baton we are given to carry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You and I will have
many purposes in our lives, and there may be one at any given time that feels
more urgent or important than the others. Your talents and your strengths and
your passions were given to you to help with your purpose. The place where you
are today—what you are doing today—is helping you carry out your purpose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">For years, I have
struggled with the meaning of purpose and what my personal “purpose” is. I
always saw my life as an upward arc that would hopefully bring me to some big “purpose”
in which all my dreams were realized, and then I would realize what it was that
I was meant to do. I always worried that I was on the wrong path, headed in the wrong direction, behind
other people, or that I might never figure out what it was that I was supposed
to do, and then would end up missing out on some significant accomplishment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I always saw it as
some “big thing” on the horizon, just out of reach. It's been stressful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Years ago, I was having
a conversation about purpose with a wise friend of mine, who asked me, “What if
you are doing what you are supposed to be doing, right now? What if you’re <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">already</i> doing it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">That honestly changed
everything for me. Then my wise sister suggested the same thing to me during
another similar conversation, months later, which resonated again. Then I realized that during
all that time that I’ve spent praying and trying to decipher my purpose, I was
actually already living it out; I was already doing it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We can’t always see
and we won’t always know how our existence, our actions and our words are
affecting other people’s lives. People don’t always give positive feedback. We
typically aren’t celebrated until after we die—and at that point, we won’t be
there to hear how we impacted others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But we do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I absolutely love to
see people living out their dreams and doing what they are passionate about. I
love celebrating those “big things” with people—it’s one of the true joys of
life. But just as much as that, I love to hear about the “little things” that
people do: random acts of kindness, paying strangers compliments, being brave
and acting on the gentle urging of that still, small voice inside that nudges
us toward our purpose. These are not little things. These are big things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m grateful to
another wise friend for reminding me that as parents, our children are one of
our big purposes in life. Sometimes I lose sight of that when parenting and
caring for children feels like a lot of work and cuts in to the time during
which I feel stressed that I need to be doing other things. But it’s true:
being there and caring for our family and friends, our significant others, our
children, is a huge purpose. If you can pop your head through the mountain of
dirty diapers that you have changed, take a deep breath after cleaning up a
dinner that took an hour to make but only 10 minutes to eat (for the millionth
time), shut out the worrying and overthinking and just listen to your kids talk
about whatever they are interested in, remember that you are carrying out a
very significant purpose. You’ll never know how you impacted your kids or
helped shape them into the people they are becoming, but it’s so important to
be there for them because in what will feel like no time at all, that stage
will be over and they will be making their own decisions and carrying out their
own adult purposes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that as beautiful
as it is to chase a dream, as satisfying as it is to work hard and achieve a
goal, and as important as you feel when you are publicly recognized for
something, that a lot of your life’s purpose is carried out in the cumulative
effect of repetitive daily activities, in a simple action, in simple consistency, in just
being there. The way that we connect with strangers and loved ones alike
creates various ripple effects throughout our communities. We can’t see how
everything connects, but I bet that God is looking down on the earth and sees a
simply stunning collage of purposes, intertwining and glowing with light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You’re here for a
reason, and you’re carrying out your purpose. You are an inspiration to others
and all of what you do doesn’t go unnoticed. There are many people who are
affected by what you do, and it’s so important that you are here. Never forget
that you have purpose, even if it’s just being you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-16067949803039523892019-10-06T12:15:00.000-04:002019-10-06T12:15:29.299-04:00A Letter to Yourself on a Good Day<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m having a bad day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe you are, too. Or maybe you're having a good day. Either way...there's something I'd like to say.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesy7NVWdeaddoY09cG0GEiZjFktYSK2a2XLA-8c48OtAqRhs1ikhnke9t2CRcCxdsqhlm5qIwkypo_DdIdenVBkdC6zqTWU7iOv5PuKXwWWZCzuvjsE7Ol4ffEsyNon-3o6iDMZAbNiPJ/s1600/20191006_121122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1272" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjesy7NVWdeaddoY09cG0GEiZjFktYSK2a2XLA-8c48OtAqRhs1ikhnke9t2CRcCxdsqhlm5qIwkypo_DdIdenVBkdC6zqTWU7iOv5PuKXwWWZCzuvjsE7Ol4ffEsyNon-3o6iDMZAbNiPJ/s320/20191006_121122.jpg" width="254" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Bad days have several sources:
situational, hormonal, depression-related, or just a day when things aren’t
going well for you and your mood adjusts to the circumstances and snowballs
into a Bad Day. You can’t avoid them, like you can’t avoid the rain falling on
you in an open field, but you also don't have to drown within them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Bad Days can descend
on you like an itchy, acrylic black sweater that doesn’t breathe and feels more
and more annoying as the day wears on, but it’s too tight that you feel like
you can’t actually take it off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I have good days, too—I’ve been lucky enough to have more good days than bad—and I’ll
have them again. I love those good days. I love being alive on those good
days. The acrylic sweater is gone and is replaced with a more breathable option, like cotton, and things feel light, airy, easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The difference between
your mood and emotions, your way of reacting, your overall perspective on a
good day vs. a bad day is <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">striking</i></b>. I sometimes have a hard
time reconciling the vast difference. Bad days are like bad dreams that you can’t
see outside of…the dreams during which you don’t realize you’re dreaming. When
you wake up—once it’s over—the Bad Day can often seem inconsequential and
insignificant—as though everything was a huge deal in the dream but then seems
so silly when you look back it. Sometimes it doesn’t even make sense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If you can take the
time to focus on the reality that this is just a phase, whether it’s just a Bad
Day or a Bad Month or a Bad Season, you can reach down into your heart and find
the Good Day feeling. That’s you, and it’s always there. Believe me when I say
it’s always there. It’s just being pushed down in favour of the dominant,
wretched Bad Day feelings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So how do you
reconcile the differences? How do you reach out and link arms with the
happiness and joy and the real you that is buried under the sadness?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Well, counselling or talking to someone is a great option—but
you could start with this: when you’re having a good day, when you feel like
you’re living out your life with purpose, when the stars seem to align and the
birds are singing a sweet chorus and you feel the warmth of God’s love
everywhere, when you recognize your value and when you feel happy and just want
to help others out of that surplus, write yourself a letter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Tell yourself how you
really feel about yourself. Tell the truth. Remind yourself of how lucky you
are and of all the things you have. Make a list of what you know you are truly
thankful for. Tell yourself all the things you like about yourself. Tell
yourself all the things you don’t love about yourself but you’ve accepted.
Crack a joke. Dish out some wisdom. Reassure yourself that “the heart of life
is good,” as John Mayer says, and that you’re going to be OK. You can become
drenched in a rainstorm, but it’s just water; it will dry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Within feelings of
hopelessness, waves of crushing sadness, indecision, and scattered thoughts, it
can be really hard to remember these things, yet it’s extremely crucial that
you do. You know yourself better than anyone else does, so it stands to reason
that you will know what you need to hear when you’re going through a rough
time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I did this for myself
this year, and I’ve already gone back to that letter more than once. It has
really helped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We can struggle with reaching
out to others and saying that we need help, and I would definitely recommend
finding the courage to do it, but at the very least, as a small but meaningful start, you can have
something written in your own hand, for your own self, reminding yourself of your
value and your purpose. Remind yourself of the truth that exists underneath the
storm clouds that threaten rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Friends, family, mentors
and counsellors are all really important and can make a huge difference in
helping you through bad days. Just don’t forget the strength you have within yourself,
to help yourself gain perspective and emotional balance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Write a letter to yourself
on a good day, and read it on a bad day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-72830403582224050342019-05-12T15:16:00.001-04:002019-05-12T15:17:16.625-04:00Being a Mother in 2019<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdu9ngBfYIMNBSD7VLl79swFKkZBBfzairYGTQUqKdYH0_Irt7UvInFqCRMwHMouPeaxZAmJzmOYKi9172vF0um4Hp1ZKq2b1rj48QraRr9krnaMVmYt0owwF53M1h3dY8LSabsKAkz2t_/s1600/IMG-20190421-WA0000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdu9ngBfYIMNBSD7VLl79swFKkZBBfzairYGTQUqKdYH0_Irt7UvInFqCRMwHMouPeaxZAmJzmOYKi9172vF0um4Hp1ZKq2b1rj48QraRr9krnaMVmYt0owwF53M1h3dY8LSabsKAkz2t_/s320/IMG-20190421-WA0000.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Happy Mother's Day! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Over the past couple of weeks, I have been thinking about what it's like being a mother in 2019.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Throughout history, mothers
have loved their children fiercely, with a love that’s hard to adequately describe,
and they have wanted their kids to be safe, strong, happy and healthy. Those
feelings and desires, however, have been affected by the moment those moms have
lived in history and the issues that they faced at the time, depending on the world
those moms have lived in, and where in the world they have lived. I don’t know
what it was like to be a mother in any age or any year before 2010, and I know
that every mother throughout the ages has struggled with different problems,
but what I can do today is describe what I feel it’s like to be a mom in 2019. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In talking with
friends and managing my own feelings, I have noticed some themes surrounding
motherhood in this current moment, and I want to acknowledge them here because
I think we can be really hard on ourselves as moms—I think we feel a particular
2019 sort of pressure—but together, we can work toward relieving that pressure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Pressure—I certainly
feel a lot of pressure. Sitting like a heavy cloud, ready to rain, is the pressure
to be a badass, hardworking, hustling mom. Pressure to do all the things.
Pressure to plan kickass birthday parties, to look and feel your best, to feed
your kids all the right foods. Pressure to keep it together. Pressure to keep
up. Pressure to post great pictures. Pressure to #girlboss your way to the top
and take advantage of the opportunities that women have today, for which other
women have fought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We have the Internet,
and thousands of moms who blog about their lives and even more thousands of
moms that comment with their opinions about things. There are quickly-passing
trends to follow and opinions to read about in order to make up your own mind
about anything and everything related to raising kids. What’s the safest car
seat? What should you feed your baby first? Should your baby sleep with you in
your room or in their own room? Should you vaccinate or not? How much screen
time should you allow? When should you give your kids their first phone?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There is so much
discussion, so much banter about motherhood and its surrounding issues that we’ve
created a lot of pressure live up to certain standards; otherwise, we can feel
like failures. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Being a mother in 2019
can also be very isolating. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We have social media. We
have Facebook, which “connects you with others.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What they don’t
advertise is the side effects, which may include: comparison depression, lack
of absolute honesty (it’s just impossible), high risk of offending others, may
actually separate rather than connect, or feelings of anxiety and fear about
what’s going on in the world and what other people are doing that you aren’t
(but should you?) This only threatens to compound the pressure we’re already
feeling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Platforms like
Facebook and Instagram were intended to connect us with others, but they can
often, ironically, isolate us from others. We can more easily default to
communicating through our phones and computers. It makes sense because when you
are home with the kids and can’t go out, you connect through social media. When
you are up at 2 a.m. feeding your baby, you go on Facebook. When you are up at
4:30 a.m. because you woke up worrying and you can’t sleep, you scroll through
Instagram. It seems like it takes a much greater, more conscious effort to make
plans to actually see someone face-to-face. It’s just easier to go online. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Life in general is
gradually feeling more isolated. We have self-checkouts, mobile orders and
grocery delivery, all very convenient things that I use, but they do remove us
another step from person-to-person interactions. We are encouraged to “visit us
online!” or “book your appointment online!” instead of picking up the phone and
calling to talk to a real person. We don’t call friends as much anymore; we
text them. If someone calls me who usually texts me, I worry that there’s an emergency.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And what’s going on in our phones? We’re
simultaneously in the middle of about 40 different text conversations or
message threads that never really begin and never really end. It’s distracting.
It can feel lonely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A mother in 2019 also
has a lot to worry about. Every mom has had worries when it comes to her child
or children, and being a mother has probably been much more stressful in other
ages, but 2019 has its own stresses; 2019 has its own brand of anxiety.
Currently, there are staggering statistics about suicide in teens and young
adults, the continuation of cyber bullying, sex trafficking, the dangers and
effects of screen time and the creeps who post videos on YouTube that kids
watch. We have to worry about what to allow our kids to do online, how to
monitor their own social media accounts and who or what they may have been
exposed to on the Internet that they may or may not tell us about. These
Internet-related issues are parenting problems that our own mothers didn’t
have—so how are we supposed to know how to deal with them?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I want to point all of
this out because in this age of all of this pressure, the isolating world of
our phones, all of these choices we have to make, all of this commentary we
find ourselves reading online, all of these people we may offend, all of this
hustling we have to do—this “proverbial” hot mess we find ourselves in that is
2019—we can help each other. We can relieve the pressure. We can dismantle the
walls of isolation. We can support one another through these anxieties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Go easier on yourself.
I don’t know what it’s like to be a mom before 2010, but I can say that being a
mom in 2019 comes with its own brand of hardships and challenges, and this
doesn’t mean that you’re not a good mom. You’re living your life; you’re doing
what you need to do, what you want to do, being the mom that only <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i></b>
can be for your kids. It wasn’t a mistake that you ended up with the kids you
have. They ended up with you because you were the best one for the job. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that even if
you live your life differently than someone else, you were both faced with many
of the same decisions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that we all
just want our kids to be OK. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that mothers
have such a crucial, vital characteristic in common, which can be the point of
connection with any other mother: we love our kids, and that’s what matters the
most. It’s the quality of motherhood that has been innately within every mother
since the beginning of time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that this is
a LOT of pressure; we’re dealing with things that our parents didn’t have to
deal with. To any parents raising kids since the Internet was created: we’re
the first ones to navigate motherhood with the backdrop of the Internet.
Googling our kids’ maladies in the dark hours of the morning, only to find out
that it could be something more serious than just the flu. Wanting a few
minutes of peace and letting the kids play video games for another half an
hour, only to feel guilty about it later. Sending emails or booking appointments
on our phones while half-listening to our kids. Struggling to “have it all,”
whatever that means, and wondering why someone else on Instagram seems to have
it together, but we don’t. Comparing instead of connecting. Setting our sights
so high and feeling like failures when we can’t do the impossible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that we’re
all meant to do different things and be different people, and if you can’t or
don’t want to do what someone else does, well thank goodness; you are being who
you are supposed to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Remember that we need
community; we need face-to-face connection. Whatever you can manage, communicating
with someone—period—is so crucial to our well-being as individuals and as
mothers. Being part of a community relieves the pressures of motherhood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We need to wrap our
arms around one another, encourage one another, love one another—be 2019
mothers with one another. If you need someone to talk to, I would be honoured
to listen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I hope that
acknowledging what it’s like to be a mother in this particular age, this
particular millennium, century, decade and year, brings perspective and helps
to justify all of the pressures, all of the guilt, all of the 2019 brand of exhaustion
we face. If you had nothing else to do or to worry about except for the safety
and well-being of your children, life would be complicated and challenging. But
it’s more than that because we have a whole host of other things to worry about
and do and succeed at, all at the same time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Cheers to you, raising
your kids in 2019. It’s a challenge we share, and if we don’t lose sight of it,
we can build a community based on it and thrive. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-11127383438757561042019-03-06T20:35:00.001-05:002019-03-06T20:35:12.455-05:00You Are Important<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKreXx9NEKkGaOW_TPuqBzBCbz0CBN0ZGjkdYYHH6qGSAOgYcb-MHRJaoj6O3PkOmJBbw_mCEJImulAsUvFM-ulm2f7MJC-FO3-y1S0S-k4dL6-Z3M4hBBRz39gwiflOEIXM0QKBcJDVw/s1600/You+are+Important+Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKreXx9NEKkGaOW_TPuqBzBCbz0CBN0ZGjkdYYHH6qGSAOgYcb-MHRJaoj6O3PkOmJBbw_mCEJImulAsUvFM-ulm2f7MJC-FO3-y1S0S-k4dL6-Z3M4hBBRz39gwiflOEIXM0QKBcJDVw/s320/You+are+Important+Image.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">When an artist dies, their work increases
in value. When loved ones pass away, we acknowledge their value and we mourn
their loss—we talk freely and openly about how much we loved them and about all
of the ways they made a difference. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">If our lives are ultimately going to be
recognized as having so much value and importance and significance, why can it
be so hard to see our own value, importance and significance here when we are
alive? I have struggled in this area, and I know I’m not the only one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We don’t really know
the kind of impact we are having on the world today; we can’t know. We just
don’t get the feedback from everyone we have impacted, inspired and helped, and
we will never know our full impact. We won’t hear all the things we mean to all
the people we mean something to, and know about all the times we made a
difference in someone’s life, just like we won’t hear our own eulogies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Most people don’t tell
those they love just how much they love them, all the time. We just don’t do
this as often as we should and maybe we can’t really express the depth and
complexity of what loved ones mean to us, especially directly to them, and not
on a regular basis. People (in general) tend to be critical, especially through
social media, and often talk about the things that they don’t like and don’t
spend enough time talking about the things they do like and appreciate about
people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You have no idea how
many times you have encountered a person and said or done something that has
stuck with them forever as an inspiration. I have encountered countless
strangers who have impacted me in this way. They have come in the form of comments
from customers when I worked at a grocery store, or comments from employees at
counters where I was the customer, or the person who said something funny and
made me laugh, or the elderly who are looking back more than looking ahead in
their lives and want to bestow all their wisdom on younger generations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">These are not even
necessarily planned interactions or rehearsed comments; they are simple
statements, actions and gestures that we do without really thinking about them,
going about our lives and being ourselves, but they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">matter</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We are living and
moving and growing, every part of every day, incorporating ourselves in
countless ways into our communities and the world, and people notice what we do
or don’t do. They may not tell you about it, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t
inspiring your loved ones as you go about your life. I remember a lot of things
my family and friends have said to me or have done throughout my life that have
inspired me as well. We don’t always say it, but love and motivation to action
are often born in these conversations and moments and encounters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you ever feel
unseen, overlooked, unimportant or undervalued, please remember that the value
that others place on you isn’t always equal to what is expressed back to you.
Your value isn’t equal to others’ perceived value of you. Your value isn’t
equal to your own perceived value of yourself. Your value is exactly equal to
the <a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+139&version=NKJV" target="_blank">value that God placed on you</a> when He made you. He definitely thinks you are
important; He definitely thinks that you matter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The world wouldn’t be
exactly the same without you. Everyone who has lived and is now gone is
missed—we all ache for those we have lost—every day. So don’t for a second
question your value and your importance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">We may never know how and to what extent we
inspire the world and how much we matter to others because of the fact that we
can’t and don’t always share exactly how others make us feel. We can’t go back
in time and locate strangers who said something we will never forget and tell
them how it helped us. The opportunities don’t always arise and it can be hard
to summon the courage to say these kinds of things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">But you know what? You can be bold. In any
way possible, tell people today, right now, on the green side of the sod, if they
said something or did something that you appreciate. Take any and every
opportunity to show appreciation for people and reinforce how much they matter.
This we can do. Perhaps we can begin to recognize our own value and place in
this world as we recognize and appreciate the importance of those around us.</span></div>
<br />
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-2589521476965530642018-12-31T14:47:00.002-05:002018-12-31T14:47:47.687-05:00Press Pause<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpVQyvZoMipGHpmcxBhdTixsfz0YOQNWJqYJ621wa-pVRHbH9TsVy93AKZfgiBL5RaFfMw2JgBYubF1RM3biNIKjMf2YVsSV7s2HbO1uxdGsu_q_-tMWNQU5YAVLUsfGJB7z64PKN6Nnl/s1600/20181231_144314.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1386" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpVQyvZoMipGHpmcxBhdTixsfz0YOQNWJqYJ621wa-pVRHbH9TsVy93AKZfgiBL5RaFfMw2JgBYubF1RM3biNIKjMf2YVsSV7s2HbO1uxdGsu_q_-tMWNQU5YAVLUsfGJB7z64PKN6Nnl/s320/20181231_144314.jpg" width="277" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“The days are long and the years are short.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">How is it that another
year has flown by and yet at the same time, we are often struggling to get
through the day? How are the kids in our lives growing up so fast? How are we
fighting wrinkles already? How are the times changing so fast while the clock
often slows to a lazy crawl? How can we reconcile these two seemingly opposite
realities?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There has been a lot
of talk about being in the present moment (this of course is a huge part of
yoga practice), and I never really understood the way that this idea fits in
and affects our lives until I started thinking about it in terms of the passage
of time. Pressing pause on a regular basis, even when you aren’t sitting on a
yoga mat, enables us to grasp and hold on to time instead of letting it float away
forever. Pressing pause enables us to remember not just the really awesome and significant moments (which we remember really easily) but also the relatively insignificant, simpler, smaller moments...the ones that seem like ones we might want to forget in the moment but often turn out to be more significant in the long run.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I have easily gone for
weeks without taking the time to actually acknowledge the current moment I’m
in, and then, whether some days are challenge to get through or end up feeling
mundane, a month has gone by and I have no idea what I did a week ago. Whether
we fly or crawl through our long days, we often just try to get through them
instead of being OK with being <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in them</i>.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If we can press pause
a few times a day to acknowledge where we are, we can better justify the
passage of time because we’ll end up with a series of moments we consciously
recognized and stored in our memory bank. In other words, all this time went
by, but all of these moments were recognized and mentally noted. It’s not
enough to live the moments; you need to consciously recognize that you are
living these moments, sort of like the feeling of a lucid dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What day is it? Where
are you? What do you see? What are you doing? How do you feel? Why? All those
feelings, whether positive or negative, are so important to recognize. It’s
allowing you to be honest with yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Today is Monday,
December 31, 2018 (wait...is it actually Monday?), it’s New Year’s
Eve and I’m reflecting on the past year. I slept in way too long, but I’m not
going to feel guilty about it because it felt really nice. Right now, I’m
writing something, my neck hurts and my kids are playing upstairs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There. To some degree,
I’ve paused and noted where I am in the day. I’ve landed in the moment instead
of floating above and through it, whereby I’d probably be unable to go back a
week from now and remember any specific details or feelings about the day. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I have tried to do
this regularly for a lot of this past year, and I can honestly report that when
I spend a month or two straight just pausing a few times a day to recognize the
date, time and place—my physical and emotional setting—the time doesn’t seem to
fly as fast and instead of feeling like I have let go of a few weeks instead of
being in them, I can look back and feel like the actual passage of time aligns
with my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feeling</i> about that passage of
time. They match up more like two parallel lines than one scribble and nothing
more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Here and there, I’ve
managed to write things down in a journal daily, which is an even better way to
document the pressing of pause and remember the days, but if that’s not your
thing, just know that merely stopping to just be here will make a huge
difference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Press pause today, tomorrow
and the next day. Once it becomes a habit, you’ll feel calmer and more
refreshed. The days may always feel longer than the years in general, but you
can bridge the gap between the two by landing in the present moment, daily, to
take stock of where you are and drop a pin in that location. Perhaps you’ll be
better able to reflect on the path you took to get here and see how many turns
you made, how many ups and downs you navigated, to help reconcile the amount of
time it actually took to get here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I hope you have a very Happy New Year and a very awesome 2019!</span></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-81256120727445217582018-10-29T21:08:00.000-04:002018-10-29T21:08:21.187-04:00The Opinions of Others and the Muddy Puddle Problem<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkmTN3n_85RQiSNKQAoAsGYbw2lq5wOnTZfrFOgRDaVKf3qiIlCTKTzgO4zvOTg3UarkWwufkX6zpw1LTiQNzQ0SXqKThHCb-LILZj8Du0XhjpXW6NtbBOlJHFOZc57700Fq7inzV62My/s1600/Boots2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="293" data-original-width="390" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLkmTN3n_85RQiSNKQAoAsGYbw2lq5wOnTZfrFOgRDaVKf3qiIlCTKTzgO4zvOTg3UarkWwufkX6zpw1LTiQNzQ0SXqKThHCb-LILZj8Du0XhjpXW6NtbBOlJHFOZc57700Fq7inzV62My/s320/Boots2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t care about what
other people think of me” is a phrase that I have been unable to utter, my
entire life. I have always wondered at the amount of times I’ve read that
phrase or versions of it in interviews and heard successful people tout it in
terms of their successes. There’s a good chance that you, yeah, you, reading
this right now, think, “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me, and I never
have, big deal”; meanwhile, I’m over here thinking, “yeah that’s great, good for you
because it is a strong quality to have, but I could never not care about that.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I have always thought
that as a people-pleaser, someone who is emotionally crippled at the thought of
someone being upset at me, disappointed in me, or just plain doesn’t like me,
caring about what other people think is simply a part of me. It's my burden to bear. I could never
change. I never thought it was an issue, really; in fact, I’ve often wished I
could know how others saw me so I could have a better sense of what my good
qualities are, what to change and how to improve. In other words, I have used
my imagined sense of others’ opinions of me as a benchmark for my own personal
success.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A little tweak of the
way I dress here, a little twist of the way I talk there, I will confess that I
have slanted myself here and there in order to be the person that [I think] others
know me to be or want me to be or expect me to be. (That was hard to write because I’m not
proud of this.) These slight variations don’t go deep enough to compromise my
true self, but they are enough make me appear a bit wishy-washy at times. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have finally,
slowly, been able to uncover the truth of the matter: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that this is a <i><b><span style="color: #660000;">problem </span></b></i>because I’m letting my
own personal colours bleed into the colours of others, and letting those
colours bleed into mine, creating a muddy puddle of non-colour, much like the
cup of dirty water you use to clean a paint brush in over and over again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">By trying to be
several interpretations of one person, I just become a muddy puddle of
non-colour. What’s more is that this is all based on my perceptions; nobody
knows what anyone else actually thinks. We’ll never know what people actually
think; only what they choose to say. Everyone is entitled to their opinions anyway, whether they voice them or not. And honestly, we all probably don’t spend
all that much time thinking about other people and what we like about them and
what we don’t. And if we knew, it would be overwhelming, confusing, and ultimately not
worth worrying about. Right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">This type of muddy
puddle person is not the type of person that people like—a crushing revelation
to someone who is trying to gain approval! Be yourself, right? This is what people say all the time. After all, isn’t it refreshing to
hear someone say something true and honest, even if it is a shock? I love it
when someone speaks their mind without restraint or without painting it a
different colour than it actually is. Raw honesty is so beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’ve finally begun to
notice the negative effects of this way of thinking—of all the caring about
what people think. The muddy puddle. The subsequent deeper question of who I
really am—who one really is. The feeling of “not fully myself” vs. the
confident feeling of “really myself.” I have started to see a glimpse of the
crucial importance of outlining myself in some black permanent marker so my
colours don’t bleed as much and diffuse into a grayish puddle of non-colour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A huge part of not
caring about what other people think is letting go of things we can hold onto
as measurements of value. Letting go of trying to please people when the true
you just can't because your values don’t line up with that other person’s—and
being OK with being different. Letting go of the conception of beauty that you
are trying to embody when your own physical features just can’t reflect that
conception of beauty (instead, they reflect your own conception of beauty—your own
kind of beautiful). Letting go of whatever others expect you to be—letting go
of needing to be just that—by getting to know yourself better so you can
properly understand your own outlines and just what shape you take. Letting go of wanting to be something else and instead accepting the person you are, the space you occupy, the specific type of influence you hold. By
understanding these aspects of yourself, you can determine how you feel you
need to improve upon what you already are, rather than stretching in weird
positions to jump over to another, completely “not you” conception of yourself.
(It’s awkward.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I can’t believe how
many years I have been governed by the pressure to guess what others have
thought and modify accordingly, waiting for a tidbit of approval to keep me
going. I’m throwing this out into the open with the hopes that it will give me
some accountability to step out of my muddy puddle and stay out of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I hope that this can
shed some light for anyone else out there who has cared too much about what
other people think—cared to the point of allowing the opinions of others to affect
your expression of yourself to the world. Reinforce your own colours by
outlining your values, your awesome personality traits, your passions and your
strengths so that your colours brighten up and are clearer and more visible to
the world. We need you and your bright colours because nobody else reflects
them in quite the same way that you do!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Talk to me or message me about your thoughts on this topic! How have you been able to ignore or walk past the opinions of others? What gives you confidence in yourself? How do you walk the straight line without wavering to the right or the left?</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-49165246234907013592018-07-30T21:07:00.000-04:002018-07-30T21:13:01.257-04:00Modern Unhappiness<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAiSd9D18W4B-4MIbcjKTbaNpGrpJ4CUdrtwwBMjem9ZV5ixOIj_SIMo4IPCtbLGdRzKal1hAlUs1M-16Wl0K9MSe-0qG-1b9KLKItAqFoNSGug0AfoGVZUPTFONT_MZMKcMsWguCC_mYH/s1600/Cloud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="615" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAiSd9D18W4B-4MIbcjKTbaNpGrpJ4CUdrtwwBMjem9ZV5ixOIj_SIMo4IPCtbLGdRzKal1hAlUs1M-16Wl0K9MSe-0qG-1b9KLKItAqFoNSGug0AfoGVZUPTFONT_MZMKcMsWguCC_mYH/s320/Cloud.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two or three months ago, I couldn’t remember the last time I
had felt really happy. I realized that most of the time, I was just doing all
the things I had to do, and it felt like there was never time, opportunity or
energy to do anything I wanted to do. I felt like all my responsibilities were
weighing heavily on me, all competing for my attention, none of them getting
enough, leaving me feeling like a failure in all departments. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I even wrote about happiness (<a href="http://christinas7wonders.blogspot.com/2017/07/are-you-happy-now.html" target="_blank">posted on my blog here</a>) last
year. I had realized how important it was to find happiness right in your
current moment instead of waiting for it on some faraway horizon, and it helped
me a lot to go through that exercise. However, somewhere along the way, I lost
that happy feeling and it was replaced by worry, stress and the feeling of
being overwhelmed. I just felt like there were a lot of negative aspects of
life to deal with now, and they always overshadow the positive ones. I fell
into a woe hole and couldn’t get out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started to wonder if this unhappiness was just a part of
getting used to the stage of life I’m at now, compared to my life as a
teenager/20-something-year-old. More responsibilities, more things to worry
about, less free time, less opportunities to do the things that were considered
happy fun 15 or 20 years ago. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was depressing me even more, so instead of thinking
about the stage of life I’m in, I zoomed out and started thinking about the
stage of history we are in. We’re dealing with new technology to which nobody
before us has had to adjust. Every time something massively and significantly
new is introduced, it takes time for people to get used to it. Just like any
relationship, after we rejoice in the benefits, the positives, the novelties,
we start to see the detriments, the negatives, the realities. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the past ten or so years, we’ve begun to live in the world
of social media. We’re connected, but are we too connected? We see everyone’s
up close and personal lives (at least, what they choose to share) every day. We
see the best photos of someone when we feel our worst, exhausted from the day.
We see friends’ and families’ vacation photos, feel happy for them, but also
feel a side of sadness that we aren’t on vacation. We see people posting about
the positive relationships they have and can’t help but hold up the
relationships we have and compare them, maybe feeling bad about being bitchy to
our husband when someone just posted about how in love he or she is with their
spouse. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We can’t help but compare, I guess, even though we know we
shouldn’t. We can’t even be completely happy for the people we love because we
can’t help but position our lives against theirs, noticing all the ways we don’t
measure up. No generation before us has had the same barrage of images at their
fingertips on a daily basis to peruse and position and zoom in and react to as
the people alive today. And it’s hard. It’s really hard to not feel jealous of
a celebrity who just had a baby and looks beautiful and has full-time nannies
to help her. It’s really hard not to feel a twinge when you see people hanging
out and doing something fun when you are lying in bed, exhausted from the day,
not doing anything fun. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Isn’t it ironic that the advancements associated with the
Internet and smart phones that are supposed to make our lives easier and better
actually make them harder?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s great that emails come straight to your phone, but it
blurs the line between work and leisure time. It’s great that you can Google
anything, but that black hole of the Internet is easy to fall into—it’s a
slippery slope that blurs the eyes, overwhelms the mind and can eat up so much
time...and can we even remember all we read?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s great that you can buy clothes online, but now
companies pump out “new arrivals” at least monthly, and when you start looking
for a specific item, you can get lost in the Internet. Just lost in the
Internet. I have started looking for something I wanted and found myself on
boutique web sites based out of Australia, wondering, how did I get to
Australia? These are cool things, neat conveniences, a massive amount of
options, but also <i>way too many options</i>.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We see ads tailored to products we have searched for, we are
pressured to buy, we are pressured to keep up with trends in home decorating,
fashion, jokes, news, and it all flies by so fast, like running to catch up to
a train but never managing to jump on it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
New technology is always cool, but it has the propensity to
create just as much unhappiness as it does happiness. Modern unhappiness. The
unhappiness that comes from wanting what you don’t need and not feeling satisfied
with all your needs actually being met (first world problems). The unhappiness
that comes from having all the cool and fun things we have, but then wanting the newer model that comes out six months later. The dizzy,
headachey feeling you get from scrolling on your phone for an hour in your bed
in the dark. The empty feeling you have from looking at Instagram images and
wanting things you saw but then forgetting what you saw because you just looked
at 100 images in 1 minute. The slightly dissatisfied feeling, off to the side
of your mind, but noticeable enough, that results from being on Facebook for
too long, reading opinions in the form of posts and discussions in the form of
a series of comments and pictures upon pictures upon pictures of people and
babies and pets. Cool, but also not cool. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where we are in history, with the Internet and how it
connects and disconnects us, is the place where the cloud of modern unhappiness
hangs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To feel sorry for ourselves about this wouldn’t get us
anywhere, though. Anyone older than you would probably chide you and say,
“You’re lucky to have all that you have. We didn’t have [this] when I was your
age.” This is true. We are experiencing a new type of unhappiness, but all the
people who lived and died before us had reasons to be unhappy, too. Disease,
shorter life expectancies, world wars, outdoor washrooms, you know, there is a
huge range of things. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a lot of talk nowadays about the young generation
being entitled. They expect a lot without wanting to work for it, which anyone
over 25 would scoff at. But you know, every generation must look at their kids
and what they have and say to them, “When your dad and I were kids, we never
had this.” We say to our kids things like, “Did you know that we had to drive
to a video store, rent a movie, drive home, watch the movie, REWIND the movie,
and return it, and all you have to do is pick what you want to watch from
thousands of titles, from several databases on your TV and press play?” I
remember my parents would say the same sort of thing to me, just one-generation-up
sort of things like, “We had to go to the movie theatre to watch a movie!” And
then you get into the generation before it talking about walking to school
uphill both ways, barefoot in the snow. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You get the picture. Every parent will tell their kids they
have it sooo good, and life is so much easier with so many more amenities than
when they were kids. Doesn’t that mean that we are all a little entitled,
compared to the generation before us? None of us realize how lucky we are to
have what we have because we don’t realize how hard our parents had it? We take
for granted what we have and expect it to be that way and heaven forbid your
Wi-Fi cuts out on your back deck? We want what we don’t need and feel bad about
our lives if they aren’t as good as some famous person we don’t even know, living
in California, having followed her dream to design clothing for cats, and now
we want her haircut and the hand towels she has in her kitchen? We are told we
must follow our dreams instead of being told that if everyone had their dream
job, society would collapse?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every generation has faced different challenges to be
unhappy about. Even though there are different things that can cause
unhappiness, perhaps people have always been able to come back to the SAME THINGS
to build happiness. Perhaps happiness is that simple. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you think about happiness in the simplest way possible, what,
at the very root, are the things that make us happy? Going back to Abraham Maslow's ideas, here are a few simple ways to feel happy:<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>Having food to eat/eating good food (sometimes
in solitude, but a lot of the time with family, friends, at gatherings,
holidays)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>Loving others and being loved<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>Feeling safe, secure, cozy<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>Doing fun things (hobbies, vacation, parties,
down time), doing what you love to do and are good at doing</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "symbol"; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]-->For those who are religious, the fulfillment
that comes from having a relationship with God<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
These are a few. Perhaps you can think of more. </div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> Whatever your age, we can find happiness in these things, or
variations of these things:</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Babies basically eat, sleep and are held and made to feel
safe. Toddlers are happy when they are eating snacks, doing fun things, living
securely and safely within boundaries. Teenagers hang out with friends and eat
pizza; they need to feel like they belong. Eventually, parties transition from
pop-and-chip movie parties to parties with beer that you don’t want your
parents to know about to parties you host at the home you own to intimate
dinner parties with delicious food. Either way, it’s all a variation of the
happiness that comes from being with loved ones and enjoying food and drinks
together. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whatever your age, you probably feel happy
when you can share a meal with family, go out for dinner with friends, are told
you are loved, have a cozy bed to sleep in, and get to do fun things once in a
while. Perhaps as we get older, our opportunity for happiness grows and gets
more complex. For example, we want to be happy ourselves, but we also want our
kids and other loved ones to be happy as well, which is just as much, if not
more important than our own happiness. We can start throwing in more things
like the happiness that comes from working hard to achieve something, or the
happiness that comes from seeing our children grow up, or the happiness that comes from being a support for others and from feeling supported by others.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It would stand to reason, then, that if our capacity for
happiness increases by growing and becoming more complex, that we would have
more opportunities for happiness and be more happy. Why is it that so many
people tend to feel more unhappy? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How can we be happy in the long term? How can we develop a
habit of happiness? How do we combat our modern unhappiness?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Down to its very core, once you wipe away all the things
that tell us they will make us happy but actually don’t, we really could be
more happy. Did you eat today? Do you have food in your house that you can make
tomorrow? Do you have any plans on the horizon? Did you do anything fun in the
last few months, memories you can replay? Do you have a bed to sleep in
tonight? Do you have people in your life whom you love, and love you? Do you
have a cozy couch to watch TV on? Are your needs met?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These are just a few things, but really, if you boil it down
to the basics, the same things that have made you happy all throughout your
life, the same things that have made people happy all throughout the ages, then
you probably have all the ingredients. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bake a happy cake and eat it. IT WILL TASTE GOOD.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Think about your kids. Your parents. Your boyfriend,
girlfriend, husband, wife, sister, brother, friends. Think about what they have
done for you. Think about what you can do for them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you don’t like a certain part of your life, don’t
complain—change it or decide to accept it. Be realistic. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Be grounded in the day. Get out of the Internet; climb out
of the dark hole and tell yourself what day it is and what you are doing in that
moment. Find something to be happy about—find a positive thing. Take a moment
to let yourself laugh or joke about something. Spend more time being you in
person with other people also in person. Find joy in the everyday—you have
chores to do, but you are able to do them. You have dinner to make, but you
have good food to cook. You have work to do, but you have a job that is making
you money. All these things seem so basic, but they are so much more than what
so many people have. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We live in a very exciting time in history, and we are
learning how to navigate the Internet and all the inadvertent collateral damage
that comes from falling into it. We can do it. It’s our responsibility as people
alive right now to assess the downfalls of new technology and develop ways to
prevent it from hurting us. As adults, we can do what we want, I know, but we should
also set boundaries for ourselves so we don’t self-destruct. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
We will be subject to this new, modern unhappiness, but we
can fight it and find the same, reliable happiness here, too—just like those
before us did. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-26229933512028902382018-05-13T08:50:00.000-04:002018-05-13T08:51:08.990-04:00Be the "You" Kind of Mother<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyS8y6Zfi-48HkIxXtgpFJEtuYgcc6XlyrT5M8-KJLKTSfA1kYRvUIhn6rxkN6xgBt1zPrBYYVMEAMmNH2GTOcKLttyis8RDbJO3C5AwpNNel06yrRvrMFhx7hg9es6Io2Lw1iI1RTzFro/s1600/annie-spratt-370995-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyS8y6Zfi-48HkIxXtgpFJEtuYgcc6XlyrT5M8-KJLKTSfA1kYRvUIhn6rxkN6xgBt1zPrBYYVMEAMmNH2GTOcKLttyis8RDbJO3C5AwpNNel06yrRvrMFhx7hg9es6Io2Lw1iI1RTzFro/s320/annie-spratt-370995-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As a parent, I love my
children more than anything else in the world, and I want them to be safe,
strong, happy and healthy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I want to be a good
mother. I love photos of mothers bathed in the warm, peaceful light of the golden
hour, sitting in a field of wildflowers, holding their children affectionately while wearing a pretty floral dress. She has patience in abundance and loves to spend
every possible moment caring for her children. That’s the kind of mother I
dream of being. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sometimes being a
mother comes easily to me—like when the right thing to say leaves my mouth and
my kids’ faces brighten and I know I said exactly what they needed to hear. I
try and anticipate my children’s needs and meet them. I try to be patient and
kind, to listen and play with them as much as I cook and prepare for them. I
try and spend the time talking with them about the little things because as
someone has said, the little things are the big things to them, and I want them
to talk to me about the big things when they grow up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As many as there are
good motherhood moments, sometimes being a “good mom” feels like an elusive
quality that I just can’t grasp. It floats away from me, and I’m left feeling
impatient, snappy and frustrated, and we’re all out of joint and nothing goes
the way it should. I feel like I’m a failure of a mother as often as I feel like
I’m a good mother. I observe other mothers out in public, I talk with friends
who are mothers, I am part of a family in which many are mothers. I read about
them, I see them on TV and watch them in movies—these other mothers—and I see
in them what I am not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I often find myself
wishing I was more like “other mothers. “ “Other mothers” are more patient,
more kind. They have their tempers on a tight, strong leash while my temper’s
leash seems to be composed of threads that unravel a lot. They don’t care about
messes and embrace the adventures had in the midst of the chaos. They want
nothing more than to make memories with their kids. They look lovingly at their
child with the slightest air of displeasure when their kids spill an entire
glass of orange juice, and then wipe it up with one fell swoop of Bounty, and
they don’t chide the child to be more careful. They drop everything to answer
their kids’ questions, never telling them to “wait a few minutes, please; I
just need to finish sending a couple of important emails.” They have nothing to
feel guilty about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I started realizing
that by idealizing all the good aspects of all the “good moms,” I was creating
an archetype of the perfect mother, and distancing myself from her all the while. I could barely see her, that ideal mother, because she was so high up on
a pedestal, her pretty shoes barely visible. I could barely see her, but I
desperately strived to be her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">But I have also
realized that every mother is not the same person. There are so many kinds of
people with so many different childhoods, different life experiences, different
personalities and different lives, different challenges, different strengths
and weaknesses, different values and motivations, different family dynamics. Then, many of them become mothers.
Just because they become mothers doesn’t mean they all left themselves behind
and transformed into the same person: “good moms.” Yes, parents routinely “die
to self” for the sake of their kids’ needs, but trust me, you’re still in
there, and the truth about who you are will come out and be even more apparent
when you have kids. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There are so many
kinds of mothers because there are so many kinds of people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We’re all different
mothers, but it doesn’t mean there is only one combination of personality and
life experience that comprises a “good mom.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Many people say that
their mom is the best mom in the world, but if you lined up all of those best
moms in the world, you would see a row of vastly different people. If every mom
is the best mom in the world, then no mom is the best mom in the world. This
isn’t a bad thing; it’s a good thing. It means that every mother is what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i> kids need; every mother is an
imperfect human with good days and bad days; every mother is trying to do what
is best for their kids; every mother expresses their love for their children in
different ways. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">On this Mother’s Day,
I want to encourage all the mothers out there to just be the “you” kind of
mother. It’s what you were created to be, and every day, you are living out the
best kind of mother for your kids. God knew all this when He created you and created your children. Happy Mother’s Day, and much love to you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-32935296237503015422018-02-28T11:22:00.006-05:002018-02-28T11:22:58.587-05:00A Break in the Clouds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOucj8PhACMKMSuFaTIuhR_drWxxtZ1sB4sKauifOQwD0xpsKIuUMczZ52PZBNdR1mJ2NNsZkWvWVPTUoXgbs_ok9oXZpI4rw0pAahpTdH-ss3XbbOCfiF3npqaVx5uqiMsuUBGLHU263w/s1600/BC+Trip+2008+033+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOucj8PhACMKMSuFaTIuhR_drWxxtZ1sB4sKauifOQwD0xpsKIuUMczZ52PZBNdR1mJ2NNsZkWvWVPTUoXgbs_ok9oXZpI4rw0pAahpTdH-ss3XbbOCfiF3npqaVx5uqiMsuUBGLHU263w/s320/BC+Trip+2008+033+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I had a dream years
ago that Joel and I were driving in a car on the highway. Suddenly and
systematically, dark clouds gathered, becoming one huge cloud, and rain began
to pour down. We couldn’t see anything. I remember panicking, thinking, “We are
driving really fast, but we can’t see where we are going!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I was afraid and helpless.
But just as that thought materialized, I noticed a small break in the clouds up
ahead. It was further ahead, not right in front of us, and it allowed us to see
that the road was going to bend up ahead. The road was elevated and there were
trees on either side, so that if we hadn’t seen this bend, we could have driven
off the road and fallen down a forested cliff. That small break in the clouds
was <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all
we needed</i></b> to steer and drive through this blinding storm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The dream awakened me
with a jolt, and I have often wondered what it meant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If our lives are a
highway (and we’re going to drive it all night long), and we can’t see the
future or where we will end up, all we really need is a small glimpse in the
distance to keep us on track. It’s all we need. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I sometimes feel that
I’ve come to the point in my life where I need to steer. Do you know what I
mean? As teenagers and young adults, life happens and you can make not-so-great
decisions in the name of naïveté or simply not needing to accomplish specifics
yet. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have your whole life ahead of
you; you have years and years to live and react to circumstances and have fun
and make mistakes. But eventually you find yourself in this middle stage, where
you’ve done all of that, which is completely OK, but if you actually want to accomplish
certain things, you need to start focusing on specifics. You need to steer in
one direction or another. You can still “dream,” but it’s harder to “do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">To anyone who has
found themselves wondering in desperation, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What should I do? Who should I be?
Why am I here? What should I focus on? What should I let go of? I’m driving,
but I can’t see, and I don’t know where I am going or where I’m supposed to go!” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just know that while we don’t know what
is going to happen on the other side of this moment, God will always show you
enough so that you can steer in the right direction. There will always be a
glimpse available to you to help
you make the right decisions for you and your family. This glimpse or break in
the clouds could be anything from a passion that lights you up, a sense of
urgency for something that you can’t shake, a dream that gives you a sense of
purpose, a goal that resonates in your soul, a thought that breaks your
concentration, a sign that keeps popping up. It might be a person that enters
or re-enters your life, an idea that glows inside you like a lightbulb and won’t
be extinguished, a reminder of something you notice when looking at an old
photo. The glimpse might become clear while you are alone, deep in thought, in
prayer, or in conversation. It might be something your kid says or do, or something
the grocery store cashier says, or something you observe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Once you see that glimpse, all the fear and panicky feelings will fall away. That break in the clouds will give you a feeling of peace and purpose. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Keep moving, keep
living and breathing, keep driving. You will always get to where you need to
go. Believe that there will always be a break in the clouds, especially during
the storms that seem to blind you. It’s all you need. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-21538688593177346952018-01-25T09:21:00.001-05:002018-01-25T09:22:02.688-05:00Little Changes, Big Changes<div class="MsoNormal">
A couple of years ago,
I started seeing an osteopath to help with my scoliosis. It changed my life. He
helped to align and balance my body as much as possible, and it honestly feels
like I am walking on a cloud when I leave. BUT I’M STILL ON THE GROUND. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, the
manipulations he makes are very small. In fact, he generally has to
go by feel because the problem isn’t always visible to the naked eye. Just a small
tweak here, a series of movements there, and I’m on my way, on my invisible
cloud. The same goes for chiropractors and their adjustments. They make minor
adjustments to your spine, and all of a sudden, your whole body feels
completely different.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s another example
of a small tweak in our life that yielded a significant difference:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Emmett was not progressing with reading as fast as what his teacher
wanted to see last year. I asked his teacher for a second home reading book, so we had
two books on the go at home instead of one. This added another 5-10 minutes of
reading every day, which I found to be quite minor—a minor adjustment—but the
results were major. Emmett read literally double the number of books he would
have read with just one at home, and he progressed much more quickly, and
reading is no longer an issue. That small tweak made a world of difference.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You don’t have to
experience a massive upheaval or do things completely differently in order to
experience a significant change in your life. Sometimes those sorts of
upheavals need to happen to get the change you need, but not always. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This has changed my
way of thinking about change. I’ve always been big on big changes. Maybe this
is because I love the excitement, the new sense of opportunity and the bright light
that comes with the idea of a big change. However, you can still promote significant change
in your life without major life events happening by tweaking this here, and that there. Switch from one thing to
another if something isn’t working. Add 10 minutes of something here, or
subtract 10 minutes of something there. Eat this instead of that. Change your
hand cream. Drink another glass of water. Tweak the way you view yourself in
the world. Tweak the type of person you want to be—a mindset, a perception, the
stopping or starting of a habit. When you read something that resonates with you, repeat it or remind yourself of it, and it will change you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Honestly, sometimes if
you let yourself think a little smaller—a little simpler—the answer for things
that cause frustration, or aren't working, or take up too much of your time, are staring
you right in the face. The causes of misalignment—the notes that
are out of tune—are often corrected by a small adjustment, not major surgery. You can change your life for the better, a little bit at a time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Dr. Seuss is quoted as saying, “Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.” I
love that quote so much that it’s hanging on my living room wall. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaPUK8tFoW4NI2mVDj6JXS8X7cWY9FS3YGyIB7pN_spM91hE1GxymWu59nvMimZhG6Um7rYlD_vxqzBte_yLgwHTcZz0p4SQrEeOkg1LJdJG5Wu9CH6123-uJVwVx05o30ksSRywQUzcb/s1600/20180125_085644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1588" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaPUK8tFoW4NI2mVDj6JXS8X7cWY9FS3YGyIB7pN_spM91hE1GxymWu59nvMimZhG6Um7rYlD_vxqzBte_yLgwHTcZz0p4SQrEeOkg1LJdJG5Wu9CH6123-uJVwVx05o30ksSRywQUzcb/s320/20180125_085644.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-37486801145982660792017-12-14T14:18:00.002-05:002017-12-14T14:18:53.968-05:00Getting Into the Christmas Spirit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG16-bJcokB5SbtcPrx0oy1O-CW_hcQ8ClsEO1RyeBdWwga9ftzz-K0ZJS_q4dKAsDK8FxpczyeSj5kTzF0BdwzRYi1wIKaRCWVfSislht9DC3Kt-ef5_idB3gyILM46TDHM6X2JPQiyZ4/s1600/20171214_141124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1181" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG16-bJcokB5SbtcPrx0oy1O-CW_hcQ8ClsEO1RyeBdWwga9ftzz-K0ZJS_q4dKAsDK8FxpczyeSj5kTzF0BdwzRYi1wIKaRCWVfSislht9DC3Kt-ef5_idB3gyILM46TDHM6X2JPQiyZ4/s320/20171214_141124.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do you ever struggle with getting into the Christmas spirit?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Getting into the
Christmas spirit” can be hard because it’s more of a feeling than a formula. For me, it
seems that the further into adulthood I have gotten, the more challenging it can
be and the longer it can take to get into the Christmas spirit, compared to the
years when I was a kid. We adults have way more Christmas-related
responsibilities, compared to kids. They get gifts, we shop for them. They eat
cookies, we make them. They decorate the tree, we re-decorate the tree. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As much as Christmas
has been a huge highlight of every year for me because I love Christmas (lights
in dimly-lit rooms, mysterious choral music, <i>Home Alone</i>, events and opportunities for socializing and seeing
people I don’t see all the time), I honestly feel that Christmas often causes
bouts of anxiety, and it has often produced disappointment and sadness. I don’t
even mean the whole shopping, cooking, decorating, hosting, wrapping thing. I
mean the stress of needing to get into the Christmas spirit. Needing to
experience “Christmas” in its fullness every year. Needing to feel some magic.
Needing to have at least a few little moments in which the impact of Jesus’
birth blooms in my heart, or the snow falls as carols are played and a fire
crackles while you wrap presents, or you watch a cluster of children sing
Christmas songs in a concert and some kid does something cute and the audience produces a collective "aaaah!", or you drink some sort of a holiday-inspired
drink with friends and the atmosphere just feels special. Needing to feel that you
have given something to someone in need. Needing to feel insulated by snow,
protected, warm and cozy, the perimeter secured by loved ones. Needing to do
all the things, see all the lights, eat all the food, hug all the people, get
the best reaction from your kids when they open their presents. If I have ever
fallen short of this long, obligatory list, I have tended to feel a bit depressed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have accumulated a
variety of Christmas traditions, decorations (hello, White Rose wooden
ornaments from the 1990s), song favourites (hello, Amy Grant, the Edward Scissorhands soundtrack and the Vienna
Boys Choir), moments, menus, family and friends since we were little. This is
beautiful, but it can also be a daunting list of things to sift through to find
the Christmas spirit, with the hopes of dusting it off, sprinkling it over your
head and feeling its warm glow. Add to that the sheer responsibility of
creating a Christmas that makes all your childhood dreams come true for your
own children, and it can feel like a stressful challenge. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps as much as we
need to take the time to activate the Christmas spirit, we also shouldn’t try
so hard or overthink the process. This in itself is a challenge for me as I
tend to overthink everything. Perhaps instead of planning or making or buying a
million things, we could try keeping time open for opportunity. Perhaps instead
of needing to do all the things, we focus on doing just we are able to do and
leave at the door any guilt for what doesn’t happen. Perhaps we can believe that the spirit of
Christmas can come in many forms and in many ways. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you are finding it
hard this year to get into the Christmas spirit, just know that the Christmas
spirit is something that never really leaves us. It’s within us, not
necessarily attached only to objects and emotions but activated by moments and
memories, old and new traditions, and most of all, the love of God that covers everything
like a warm blanket. I try to remind myself of the fortitude of the Whos in Whoville,
the tall and the small, who had a sparkle of Christmas spirit within their
hearts even when they lost everything. No matter what life throws at you, no
matter who you miss at Christmas, no matter how you feel about Christmas this
particular year—whether you are grasping to hold onto it before it passes by or
just can’t wait until it’s over—don’t ever give up on the Christmas spirit, on
the magic of love and the opportunities that the heart of Christmas can bring to
you. It’s in you, it never leaves, and in whatever way specific to you, it can
be uncovered to shine bright this Christmas!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wishing you all a
wonderful Christmas season, full of the Christmas spirit!<o:p></o:p></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-44594032792952495602017-07-10T21:13:00.001-04:002017-07-10T21:13:22.844-04:00Are You Happy, Now?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfhj_YXFi0KIl_ZH20z9CwZbiajHqUgrUL7a6sIgU45xfrwNw13BjEFYIOaaytM4L5bGkIqgJ8Bvb00hQRASsdXznceLj3RjIiVh-EwjizUUABCQ08T_qh58c7RAb2lYg56KKMXoWSUHw/s1600/candle.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfhj_YXFi0KIl_ZH20z9CwZbiajHqUgrUL7a6sIgU45xfrwNw13BjEFYIOaaytM4L5bGkIqgJ8Bvb00hQRASsdXznceLj3RjIiVh-EwjizUUABCQ08T_qh58c7RAb2lYg56KKMXoWSUHw/s320/candle.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had a bit of a breakthrough this year with happiness, and I
want to share it with you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not sure what it was, maybe because it was a lot of
different things, but I definitely haven’t been as continuously happy over the past few years as I have
perhaps been known to be. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let’s be honest: the older you get, the more
responsibilities you have. The more responsibilities you have, the more of your
day you spend doing the things you “have” to do, and the less time you have to
do the things you “want” to do. For me, it was work, then babies, then babies
and work. I found myself desperately stretching my arms out with the hopes of
grabbing on to some spare time. Two hours to lay on the couch and watch
Netflix. An hour to think and let my thoughts run around and then settle down.
An afternoon at the mall. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I even have the winters off, and I still have felt that same
unhappiness creep in as soon as the spring busyness emerges. Everything seems
to happen all at once, we work a lot and things get stressful and difficult. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My husband called me on my misery and basically didn’t give
me the option of acting unhappy. I was mad at him for saying it, thinking that
he didn’t understand how much I had to do when he worked such long hours all
season long. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had found myself in the deep rut of very often holding happiness an arm’s length out of reach. I
put my happiness in different boxes. Happiness was vacations, parties and
gatherings with friends, a two-hour block of time when my kids are asleep and I
can do whatever I want. Happiness was coffee with my husband in the morning, the
opportunity to go to a yoga class, the opportunity to get dressed up for
something. The problem is that these things don’t happen all the time. They
maybe happen once a week or in some cases, once a month, or in terms of
vacation, once a year. Does that mean that for all the rest of the time, I am
condemned to being miserable?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then one day a voice inside said, “Christina, you’ve got to
learn how to be happy all the time. Otherwise, what's the point?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somehow that simple lesson was not one I had learned. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just because you are doing things you have to do doesn’t
mean you can’t have fun doing them. I learned to find enjoyment in those things.
It started with finding a couple of things that I was thankful for while
running errands with the kids or cleaning my house. I was thankful that we have
enough money to buy food, and I was thankful for big, bright grocery
stores with so much food to choose from. I was thankful for the peaceful
feeling I get when I am at home, and how much I love the feeling of clean
floors when I walk on them (for five minutes until the kids walk into the house
with sandy feet, but that is something that I haven’t found happiness in yet,
so ignore that). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I learned to accept the fact that my life is structured the
way it is right now and that’s OK—it's good, even! I learned to accept each moment I was in, and to
appreciate all of the good things. I held up a positively bright candle and
found happiness in dark corners. I learned to laugh with my kids and enjoy the
phase of life that I’m in with them right now knowing that they are growing up
so fast. I have started looking at my kids through the sad and longing eyes of
the elderly people who look at my kids in the grocery store or the bank and
say, “Oh, they grow up so fast” and “Enjoy this stage” and “Wait until they are
teenagers!” (This was hard to do because I usually just disagree with these elderly people in my mind because they have clearly forgotten how difficult it is to raise small children.) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I threw away the mindset
that when I’m taking care of my kids, it’s “work” and not necessarily what I “want”
to do and try to remember my childhood, the special memories I had, and what
kinds of memories we are constantly creating for our kids.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thoughtfully appreciate all the things about the job I
have and the people I work with. I appreciate the challenges and the
relationships, the variety and the laughter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something really interesting happened when my mindset
shifted: free time just seemed to emerge and instead of seeming like a limited
resource, it became more than enough. I think this was because I accepted the
fact that I wouldn’t always have a ton of free time, and also because I started
enjoying all aspects of my day so much that I didn’t feel like I needed free
time in the same way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I found happiness in the moments, in the "right now."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having things to look forward to is great, and of course it’s
not all rainbows and sunshine with my kids, and of course I have to deal with
things I’d rather not deal at work and with Joel's business. But if I think of those things as
moments in time that will be over as quickly as the good moments, and things
that help me to appreciate the good things that much more, and things that
build strength and provide opportunities for growth, they don’t affect me in
the same way they would if I was generally unhappy. To an unhappy person, every
ounce of negativity is just another rock to add to an already heavy burden, but
to a happy person, negativity is like a few pebbles that can be easily brushed away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I still do the typical mom things like lose my temper with
my kids and then feel guilty, or dread the late Friday afternoon Costco
shopping trip with my kids and feel relief when it’s over (i.e. when everything
is unpacked). I still get quite hormonal and feel like the world is crashing
down on me on a monthly basis, and I
still feel like I routinely start to fall apart by Saturday afternoon after a
hard week. What has changed is my moment-to-moment mindset. That mindset is
everything. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you can light a candle and look into the corners for
happiness, you will find it. It’s there, and it has the capacity to multiply into even more happiness. That happiness is the fuel that will help you not only get through your day, your week, your month (or even your year), but to enjoy the time, be enriched by the experiences and feel grateful for the moments. <o:p></o:p></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-44371985992295755422017-04-26T20:52:00.003-04:002017-04-26T20:52:57.161-04:00Angels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqriv45rcL1CJFS6qpEYGxmqE73-HzrTJeKrYj1ec4o3CW0hYsz4GPaIM22lmBEiSfUrt55JTZ51m2fQOsC_FsjWBzO_IkQUBdLG1e_9JQKzKVrFIsMWhcoAtKXyXCfpEfv6r1zG30w1q0/s1600/angel-969873_1920.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqriv45rcL1CJFS6qpEYGxmqE73-HzrTJeKrYj1ec4o3CW0hYsz4GPaIM22lmBEiSfUrt55JTZ51m2fQOsC_FsjWBzO_IkQUBdLG1e_9JQKzKVrFIsMWhcoAtKXyXCfpEfv6r1zG30w1q0/s320/angel-969873_1920.png" width="290" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A couple of years ago, I was given a book called <i>Heaven's Host: The Assignment of Angels, Both Faithful and Fallen </i>by Bobby Conner. It was an interesting read, for sure. The author went into great detail describing angels and their purposes here on earth, including a lot of Biblical references and some descriptions of his encounters with them.<br />
<br />
What stood out most to me was his descriptions of angels - what they look like. According to Conner, they are generally attractive and young-looking, but they don't all look the same or have the same sort of countenance or expression. He also says that according to Hebrews 13:2, some may even appear as humans, and we wouldn't be able to distinguish them from humans (p. 77).<br />
<br />
Of course, at that point I wondered if I had ever seen a real angel before. I went so far as scanning back in my memories to see if I could find a notable person or face that I might recall, who might just suddenly jump out at me as being a supernatural being. (Oh my goodness, that man at the airport with the navy pea coat was totally an angel...I can see it now!) Of course, I didn't recall anything. If I ever have seen an angel, I was none the wiser. Or perhaps I have never seen one. There was really no point in even wondering about it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, my thoughts quickly shifted to people - real, tangible, beautiful people - who have helped me, supported me or done things for me in the most angelic way, and I realized that in addition to the angelic beings that are out there, there are human angels aplenty here on earth who protect, support, provide and bless us. I have a few examples:<br />
<br />
When my father-in-law was on his deathbed in the hospital about a year ago, the family had gathered and had spent the night at the hospital. During those dark, late/early hours of 1 - 2 a.m., I remember lying on a small and kind of uncomfortable couch in a family room down the hall, trying to sleep for a while. It was cold and kind of windy in there, and I was huddled in a fetal position, so tired but unable to sleep because I was too cold, but too tired to really care about doing anything about it. The door to the room opened at one point, and I heard soft footsteps and then felt the peaceful security of a soft blanket being placed over me. IT WAS AMAZING! I remember feeling so happy that I was less tired and couldn't sleep afterward. It is hard to describe the monstrosity of such a small gesture, but I will try: I had a simple need, and it was provided for, without me having to ask for it or do anything about it. It reminded me of being a child, when your parents do everything for you. When you become a parent, you do everything for your kids, and people just don't do things like that for you as much anymore. It literally felt like the greatest gift I had ever received in that moment.<br />
<br />
I found out later that it was my sister-in-law who came in and covered me up, and I will never forget that moment when my small, seemingly insignificant need was met so gracefully, so angelically. This gesture meant a lot to me in that moment, and still does.<br />
<br />
Another example: last year, I had mentioned in passing to Joel about asking our friend, who takes care of our lawn maintenance, to mulch our gardens. Usually, the spring is a busy time of year for all of us, and I assumed that I would have to ask a few times about the mulch and probably frustrate Joel with my nagging before it was done. However, I pulled into my driveway one day after work, not long after we had talked about it, and lo and behold, the gardens were mulched, and I didn't even know that Joel had talked to him about it. It was done, and I think all the angels in heaven were singing as I gazed upon my beautiful gardens. I didn't have to do anything, and it was done!<br />
<br />
In this case, sure, you could argue that we asked someone to provide us with a service for which we would pay, so it was just someone doing his job. No, it was more than that! It was something done for us so quickly and efficiently, without me having to follow up or ask Joel several times if he had asked his friend. It was just done, and we didn't have to do it, and it was done quickly, and it was angelic.<br />
<br />
The last example I have was around that same time, last year, when my father-in-law had just passed away, and I had so many friends say things like, "Bring the boys over!" or "I can watch them for you on [this] day." or "Let me bring you dinner next week!" or send flowers with loving notes. Honestly, I know these are things people do when a family member dies, but they are not to be taken for granted. I didn't ever expect or think that anyone would have to offer these things to me, but when they did, so much emotion erupted within me because they were just what I needed.<br />
<br />
I suppose that all of these human angels in these few examples, these lovely friends and family of mine, are angels because they provided me with the things I needed in those moments, things that were weighing me down and pre-stressing me out, and I received them without asking or having even really established the need in my mind consciously enough to take action for a solution. They filled a need that I hadn't even started to worry about.<br />
<br />
Bringing a blanket, mulching a garden or offering to take your kids may seem like relatively small or easy things to the person doing it, but these gestures that we can do for others could be things that bring a flood of light into their day and stay with them as glowing memories for the rest of their lives.<br />
<br />
We may never know just how much the acts of kindness we can show to people can affect them in the most positive ways, which is why we should always grasp the opportunities to bless, love and be kind to others.<br />
<br />
Books about angels are fascinating, but I have come to really love and appreciate the angels I get to talk to and be with here on earth.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-17573727254528003272016-04-08T16:12:00.000-04:002016-04-08T16:47:40.119-04:00A Tribute to Raven<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrp29m8EedigRK7eX7HVpSec26blO97BTAUgSLt31IvvEeYOnkjSdRW2oYimWsVXBQ0a0L37_N_l3hypzPYSZ_LzGPYzd1IyFIIdbZvu7gqup2Dx7xxXWHT8j7AA-eI7PJT-JjftzIblDI/s1600/Raven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrp29m8EedigRK7eX7HVpSec26blO97BTAUgSLt31IvvEeYOnkjSdRW2oYimWsVXBQ0a0L37_N_l3hypzPYSZ_LzGPYzd1IyFIIdbZvu7gqup2Dx7xxXWHT8j7AA-eI7PJT-JjftzIblDI/s200/Raven.jpg" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Raven. She likes birthdays, <br />
loud music and long rides on the highway.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
They say that the walls of houses hold many memories of the
lives that were lived within them. I would say the same goes for the inside of
a car. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This week, I said goodbye to my car of eleven years and
hello to a new one. During the past several months, when we were talking more
seriously about buying a new car, I started thinking about all the memories
that I shared with my car—all the life experiences I have been through since I
got it—and I wanted to write a tribute to her. (My car’s name is Raven, by the
way, and I am pretty sure it’s a girl.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Raven didn’t just prove to be an extremely reliable car with
almost no issues in all the years I owned her; she also progressively held more
and more significant memories in her interior as the years went by. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She drove back and forth every day from Grimsby to St.
Catharines, when I lived in Grimsby and worked in St. Catharines. Then, when I
lived in St. Catharines and worked in Grimsby, she said, “no problem; I will do
the opposite now,” without complaint, and proceeded to drive every day from St.
Catharines to Grimsby. She drove to Pennsylvania several times to visit friends
(that would be my friends, not my car’s other Toyota friends, just to clarify—that would be
weird; can you imagine?!), and those trips were always different—once I drove the entire way
without stopping once (Raven was so incredibly exhausted by the time we
got there), and another time, I painfully grinded her left wheels along the
curb of a toll booth while the toll guy just laughed at me (and Raven silently
cried). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cried many tears within the safe walls of my car when I
was going through a divorce years ago—for months, it seemed that any time I got
in the car and closed the door, I was alone and safe to just let out all the
emotion I was feeling and had been holding in since the last time I had driven
somewhere. Raven was a safe place for me to let go; Raven was a haven for me to
relax, gather my wits, get my s#%t together and process feelings. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember listening to Arcade Fire’s released-that-day album
<i>Neon Bible</i>, my emotional capacity
bursting at the seams when I heard “Intervention” for the first time, in the
winter of 2007, in my car. Really, any time a new album came out that I wanted
to really get to know, I would play it, in that car, on repeat, until I knew
all the words, all the key changes, all the drum fills, all the powerful
transitions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both of my babies were brought home from the hospital in
that car after they were born. We have transitioned through a variety of car
seat orientations in that backseat. Now I’m going to blame the boys here
because they can’t defend themselves: “the kids” even spilled some weird orange
goo in the backseat that I couldn’t get out of the fabric until we got some
highly-effective car interior stain remover about a year ago. I was excited to
clean that spot out, but I kind of missed it afterward. It just felt like part
of Raven after a while, like a new freckle or something. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After eleven years, naturally, I knew my car’s limits. I
could whip into a parking spot without hitting anything. I could adjust
everything I needed to with the speed and adeptness of someone versed in sign
language. Raven still kept some secrets from me to keep things interesting,
though—I just figured out how the child lock thing worked a few months
ago, and I am still not 100% sure how to pop the hood, but I was always confident I
could figure it out pretty quickly if necessary.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Getting a new car is really exciting. Everything is new,
smells new, and is so weird compared to the car that is twelve years older. I
mean, my new car DOESN’T HAVE AN ANALOG SPEEDOMETER OR A CD PLAYER. WHAT THE HECK. But
it also has a whole lot of amazing features and is so pretty. However, Raven
will always hold a special place in my heart; you know, in that place reserved
for all your car memories. There is a place in your heart for those memories
because cars are so important. For something that depreciates very quickly
financially, let’s just say that it <i>appreciates</i>
just as quickly as a significant part of your life. <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-34583185283847490772016-02-23T19:32:00.001-05:002016-02-23T19:32:15.451-05:00The Joy of Boredom<div class="MsoNormal">
I can’t remember the last time I felt bored.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhnKcYKpebgxldPSpQBLK-KKc8HctLOiLU6WHaII8Lj9I06DDOn32bolNFuHENbkDkf3ZG5o4rCX28Tt__SOkL2eaf9Te7UEQM7ydK3q3h5bnzo6j-_zctrKHBY4uHfBeIIPwNBeq_LIl/s1600/20160207_141649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOhnKcYKpebgxldPSpQBLK-KKc8HctLOiLU6WHaII8Lj9I06DDOn32bolNFuHENbkDkf3ZG5o4rCX28Tt__SOkL2eaf9Te7UEQM7ydK3q3h5bnzo6j-_zctrKHBY4uHfBeIIPwNBeq_LIl/s200/20160207_141649.jpg" width="112" /></a>Having a lot of responsibilities can definitely stem boredom
from ever blooming, but even if I didn’t have kids, didn’t have a job, didn’t
have a pet, wasn’t married, or had no other responsibilities to speak of and had
literally nothing but free time, there would still be no end to the potential
entertainment ideas to occupy my time and stop boredom from ever showing up at
my doorstep. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is always something bright, colourful, pretty and
perfect to entertain us with these days. You can read about anything online.
You can Google. You can spend hours on social media. Pinterest is so fun! You
can spend hours in its black hole, looking at countless variations on the
perfect versions of an outfit, of a birthday party, of delectable dishes for
any event and of any theme, of a beautifully-landscaped yard, of a dream house.
You can spend hours watching Netflix/Crave/Shomi/Crackle/Hulu/Hugely-Gigantic-Database-of-TV-Shows-and-Movies-for-a-Low-Monthly-Fee.
You can play games and read books, or you can play games while you listen to
books, or you can read books while you listen to songs or entire crafted-for-your-mood
playlists on a tens-of-thousands-of-songs-database-for-a-low-monthly-fee; there
is no end to the possibilities. All the while, don’t forget about the long list
of contacts in your phone with whom you can have conversations –all at once, if
you want, via text or Messenger or WhatsApp. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Seriously, though: remember what it felt like to be really,
truly bored? To have nothing to do? To sit quietly and think? To go to bed
early because there were no good shows on the few channels available? (To go to
bed without spending 10-15 minutes on your phone, in bed, until your arms got
too tired from holding the phone up in front of your face?) To think through
the boredom and find something interesting to do? To happen upon some
interesting thought or activity? To end up doing something or talking about
something or going somewhere new and perhaps having something to show for it in
the end, leaving you feeling like you really thrived as a human being that day?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have we reached the point in our civilization at which we
are no longer capable of being legitimately bored? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have so much to entertain ourselves with, which is great,
I suppose, in some ways. However, I think we might be losing something along
with the boredom that for me, at least, is growing scarce. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have a lot of options with which to fill our spare time.
Ours is such a “busy” society that I think we really guard our spare time with
swords and shields and feel this need to be efficient at maximizing our spare
time. I have definitely begun to feel less and less content with just one thing
to do at a time. However, in order to fill my spare time with lots of options,
these options have increasingly become <i>easy</i>
options—ones that require less and less thinking. I’ll sit in front of the TV
with at least one device by my side. I often prefer to watch shows or movies
that do not require my full attention so that I can both watch the show/movie
and scroll through [whatever] or text [whomever] at the same time. In other
words, I am doing “more” but also doing “less.” Quantity over quality.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Between social media, the glorious Internet with its
bottomless depth of information, email, texting, calendars, lists, and
everything else we do on our devices, it’s like we live our real life with part
of our attention and energy, and then we also live a parallel life on our
devices with the other part of our divided attention. Texting while making
dinner. Instagramming while watching TV with the kids. Looking up tracking
information for a package while folding laundry. Putting a reminder in my phone
to pay some bills after I finish up a phone call at work. Pulling out the phone
to take a picture of something “significant” that just happened, feeling like
it should be shared with the world. Watching <i>The Martian</i> and quickly Googling “Mars” to find out whether anyone
has actually set foot on Mars yet (spoiler alert: no one from Earth has yet). Unfortunately, the more these parallel
universes combine and overlap, they dilute each other.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have seen and read a lot of articles and quotes and
miscellaneous encouragements about being mindful, about being in the present,
about putting the phone away when you’re with the kids, about focusing on one
thing instead of many little things...all of these ways of life are so
important, but actually being mindful and focusing on the present is really <i>challenging</i>. To do anything on my phone while
I am doing something else in my parallel universe is really <i>easy</i>. Unfortunately, this has caused me
to become so over-stimulated with information that I forget most of what I read
and don’t actually allow my mind to process anything securely enough to build those
important connections in my brain—to really think things <i>through</i>. It’s like my mind is a landfill site, and front loaders
are dumping a heaping lot of bits of things in there, and I’m standing there
trying to clear a pathway...and basically see less and less of a point even
trying.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The feeling of boredom is something I miss. Sitting at a
restaurant before my friends get there, just taking it all in, people watching,
considering the tacky decorations—what is that like, again? Waiting before a
doctor’s appointment or a class, making small talk with the people around me and
learning something interesting about someone else there—what is that like,
again? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I miss a lot of that now because my first instinct when I
sit with two minutes of free time by myself is to whip out my parallel
universe—my phone—and check on the orbits of all the planets there. (This is
saying a lot because I am the type of person who likes to chat it up with
whomever, and I do love to observe people and restaurant decorations.) What am
I forgetting to put in my calendar? Whom do I need to text about something? What
happened in the 10 minutes since I put my phone in my purse and drove here? Wait...what—nothing
happened? So...did those 10 minutes actually <i>happen</i>? Two minutes later, after checking my email, and scrolling
through whatever app whose icon I tapped without thinking, nothing significant has
actually happened, really, whereas two minutes of just “being” there would have
been way more beneficial to my psyche...and more environmentally-friendly
to my mental landfill.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See what I mean? I worry about the loss of boredom. We need
time to sit at a loss of things to do and not have anything to fill our minds
with clutter sometimes—in order to declutter our minds. We need to take it all
in and remember what it felt like to be somewhere, to do something, to talk to
someone. We need to let our minds be innovative and curious—let our minds
process the information we have and navigate through boredom into creativity or
something meaningful and significant instead of always reverting to the easy
road, which for me is whipping out my phone, my tablet or finding something to
watch on Netflix, or all of the above. “Entertain me,” I exclaim. “Dance for
me, puppets!” The entertainment options are endless, but they push the memory
of a good, healthy boredom further and further away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This conflict, these parallel lives, the increase of
entertainment and time-fillers, the decrease of boredom, the need to be mindful
in the present pushing against the convenience of Google at our fingertips—all
of these forces continue to push against each other in this ebb-and-flow that
has left me wondering whether there actually can be a solution or a balance.
There is something to be lost and something to be gained with the conveniences
of modern-day entertainment and technology. There is something very significant
to be said of mindfulness and boredom and time to just be, but it is always
being held up beside this perfect, shiny, bright beacon of light and
possibility, which is our devices and all that they can offer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never thought I would say this, but if I ever feel that
real, authentic kind of boredom again, I will get really excited. I promise
that I will enjoy it; I will really try to enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
PS If you actually read this whole post until the end
without getting distracted by something: you get 1 million points. If you
read this whole post without getting bored: I’m glad this wasn’t boring and
thanks so much for that; now go, do nothing and feel bored, please. Your mind
will thank you and give you another million points.<o:p></o:p></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-17272198168921110852016-02-14T17:04:00.002-05:002016-02-14T17:04:54.923-05:00Dear Music<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJg7TSLcqU7y-i1NNPfEOxYI0wz2JBmri8AQH5wM98NbnD7CIDI1EuNb_mo_liI8Uy6lc7p23MRpRQgcFPCNvqapr6REuGUtXcNWN9m093E3N9_BjIJuLOtRSDdjmUAkyFvm46SWGumR8/s1600/Music.png" 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/AVvXsEglJg7TSLcqU7y-i1NNPfEOxYI0wz2JBmri8AQH5wM98NbnD7CIDI1EuNb_mo_liI8Uy6lc7p23MRpRQgcFPCNvqapr6REuGUtXcNWN9m093E3N9_BjIJuLOtRSDdjmUAkyFvm46SWGumR8/s320/Music.png" width="229" /></a>Dear music, dear songs, dear sounds, dear simple strands of
lyrics, thank you. Thank you for being there for me and providing a therapy
that neither anything nor anybody could provide in quite the same way. Thank
you for sound-tracking so many moments and seasons in my life and leaving a
forever print on those times, bringing me back to certain emotions more
accurately than looking at old photos would.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You get me to sing in
my car every time—and I don’t stop at traffic lights. You assure me that I can
dance (I can’t, but you convince me that I can, so I do). You
serenade me in my kitchen while I am cooking. You energize me through the killer
leg lifts in Pilates class. You inject my soul with happiness and make me feel
more alive. How do you do that? You weave your way through my mind and stay
there for as long as I need you. You never fail to offer a variety of sound
solutions—one for every mood, every problem, every side of me that needs to be
covered with soothing notes or encouraging words. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You offer me a way to worship God. You are the bond I create
with countless people. You bridge the gap between my spirit and its expression,
between soul and circumstance, between body and movement. You make me want to
express myself and make me confident to do so. You provide any and every type
of vibe I need in any and every scenario. You lull me to sleep, you bring me to
dreams and you wake me with the hope of a new day. You make me want to write,
to sing, to think, to dance, to feel, to love, to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Music is my steadfast companion. Sometimes our relationship gets complicated, when I long to hear a song that I know will make me feel sad, but I can’t help going back to it anyway—it’s good to feel strongly about something sometimes, even if it means feeling sad. Sometimes, just as I feel our relationship couldn’t get any better, a line in a song comes along and I am carried helplessly through the tunnel to the light, up higher, down deeper, and I am in a complete state of bliss. Sometimes I didn’t realize that I needed to hear a song until I hear it for the first time, and I experience this sort of reverse-desire-fulfilled kind of phenomenon. Whatever state our relationship is in, it is intimate, for I can attach my deepest thoughts, most tender memories and also the most vulnerable, the happiest, the most uplifting and reassuring moments to music.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will be forever grateful to those who created the flow of
sound that promises to fill any listener’s ears, then brain, then heart, with
therapy, with life, with a reminder of our own passions. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Grammys are airing tomorrow, so I thought I would share a
list here of my top songs of 2015, which are my favourite songs from records that
were released in 2015. (The whole albums that these songs were released on were
all really fantastic, though—in some cases, it was hard for me to pick only one
song.) My criteria: these were the songs I kept going back to and had on repeat
from the moment I heard them:<o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Half Moon Run: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45g9_WLkPoc" target="_blank">“Everybody Wants”<o:p></o:p></a> - this song's lyrics are so incredibly relevant and true to me, and they are nestled in a very beautiful and raw song structure. I sense that the musical interlude of the voices rising up partway through the song are like a plea--a "please, God"--that is making its way up to heaven. I am also a sucker for "the build," and this song has an awesome build, complemented perfectly by the desperation in the lead vocals. </div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->My Morning Jacket: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oT7xCWDQkXU" target="_blank">“In Its Infancy (The Waterfall)”</a> - Jim James' lyrics are just so amazing. He is so philosophical and interesting and just extremely cool. I love this song and how it evolves, both lyrically in the description of the waterfall, and also how the song keeps changing (there are three parts to it).<o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Gary Clark Jr.: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENFUyc8n5Co" target="_blank">“Star”</a> - This song came on one day when Joel and I were in the kitchen, and halfway through it, we were like, "Who is this?" This song will make you move from the moment you hear the bass. It's funky and jazzy and bluesy and chill, and it's also really fun to sing along to and pretend you have an amazing voice like Gary Clark Jr. does. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Mumford and Sons: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsP-MjIueL4" target="_blank">“Wolf”</a> - A very popular song, I know. "Wolf" is one of those songs that is so positive and uplifting, and it always makes me feel like everything is going to be OK. It makes me love life and feel so happy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->The Maccabees: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70Zr8Ri5iCE" target="_blank">“Spit It Out”</a> - I first heard the Maccabees when we saw Mumford and Sons last summer in Niagara-on-the-Lake. After Marcus Mumford told the audience that the Maccabees was one of his top two favourite bands ever, I was like, OK, I think I like them, too! This song is ridiculously awesome. That piano riff throughout the song is beautiful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Muse: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzbFxLNpguM" target="_blank">“Defector”</a> - As a loyal Muse fan, I was very excited for <i>Drones </i>to be released last year. This was my favourite track, hands down. I love it so much, and it quickly became one of my top Muse songs of all time. It's rocky, with lots of guitar distortion, and the chorus has an unexpected rhythm to it, with the standard Muse/Queen sort of sound. The bridge is gorgeous.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Foo Fighters: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h19xikSTRi8" target="_blank">“Iron Rooster”</a> - Joel showed me this song. It is on the Foo Fighters' EP, <i>Saint Cecelia</i>, which was released last year as a free download on November 23. This song is catchy and almost reserved in a way, and the lyrics are great - a bunch of questions that leave you thinking about them after the song is over.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Arcade Fire: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKrr1OPMSqY" target="_blank">“Get Right”</a> - This track was part of the deluxe edition of <i>Reflektor</i>, which was released last year (Reflektor was originally released in 2013). It's a really gritty, bluesy song that develops and builds into something more, something that sounds more like an Arcade Fire song. Being one of my favourite bands, of course I loved the songs on this deluxe edition. This song especially was one that I had on repeat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]-->Nothing But Thieves: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWpEZguQE8E" target="_blank">“If I Get High”</a> - I just discovered this band like a week ago. They sound a bit like Muse and a bit like Royal Blood. The singer has a very powerful and beautiful voice, and the songs are sometimes really rocky and sometimes really quiet. Warning: The video for "If I Get High" is really sad and emotional. I <span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">could hardly choose between my other two favourites on the album: "Graveyard Whistling" and "Lover, Please Stay," another ballad that showcases the lead singer's beautiful voice and reminds me of an Adele song without the hype.</span></div>
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Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-44474106293518077262015-03-09T21:09:00.002-04:002015-03-09T21:09:49.445-04:00Not Writing<div class="MsoNormal">
The winter months involve a different way of life for my
household compared to the spring-to-fall months. As Joel and I are both in
seasonal lines of work, we can truly hibernate from Christmas until almost
April. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Every year, as soon as Christmas is over and we settle into
January, my mind goes into overdrive. All the thoughts and issues and ideas
that I must have pushed to the back seat and stuffed in the trunk begin to hop
into the passenger seat and/or slide onto my lap, pushing me halfway out the
window, so I imagine myself like someone’s dog, enjoying the wind in my face
but also feeling awkward enjoying it, since I’m human and am supposed to be
driving in a composed manner, without all these ill-treated thoughts fighting
for a spot on my lap.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Regardless of how I feel, as soon as the temperatures drop
and the snow falls, so many thoughts are unleashed about so many topics. What
am I doing with my life? What should I have done? What should I continue to do,
and what things about myself should I improve on? What challenges should I be
throwing down for myself and my household? Am I a good mother? Am I a good
wife? How can I improve my life? What are the things I love to do but am not
doing enough of? What will this year bring? What can I do for others? Who can I
be for others? (I basically question everything about myself and my life.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Probably the worst offender is the pressure to write (this
is positive pressure, I should stress). I love writing, and I always feel like
I should be writing more. From April until December or so, I might think of
things to write about, or feel that passion booting up inside me that urges me
to “<i>just write something!</i>” but the
passion usually gets trampled by more urgent matters such as [at night], “My
body is insisting I need to sleep by pushing my eyelids down in slow motion;
it’s weird” or [in the morning], “Oh no; I didn’t lay out my clothes last
night, and I have no idea what to wear; therefore, I am either going to be
super rushed or I am going to feel mentally uncomfortable in an outfit I don’t
love today. (Which is worse?) Finally, [during the weekends], “Finally, the
weekend is here! Screw everything else! I’m going to put on cartoons for the
kids and sit on the couch with coffee and a book, and—[<i>flash, a poof of dust explodes and my alarm goes off Monday morning—what
kind of dark magic is at work here?</i>]”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyway, all of these more urgent, time-is-of-the-essence
moments end up pushing the passion to write into the very back of the trunk (of
the car I am apparently driving on the road of life) during the warm months.
You know, where the umbrella that doesn’t open and the poorly-stocked First Aid
kit are. Back there. That the passion to write jumps into my lap during the
winter and distracts my driving really is not surprising.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Probably more frustrating than wanting to write something
and not having the time or energy to do so is wanting to write something and
having ample time to do it, but being hit in the head with a writer’s block.
That hurts, emotionally. Think of the bricks that Kevin threw at Harry and Marv in <i>Home Alone 2</i>. You just can’t think
straight enough to come up with something inspirational or meaningful after
being hit in the head with a writer’s block.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSaMjxTmOUU7YXZzFh_bXkGp8vYgtcCYCkXVPteoyZGf1TgjnmQkkbw31seKBQYhSPnDrA5YD9C3qQus-ZwmE1MUq8OyS-DgsS_8Hi5uNiQIol4NESmYOepyVvpc4HHLuh0vhEWn1Z3YN/s1600/Bricks.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSaMjxTmOUU7YXZzFh_bXkGp8vYgtcCYCkXVPteoyZGf1TgjnmQkkbw31seKBQYhSPnDrA5YD9C3qQus-ZwmE1MUq8OyS-DgsS_8Hi5uNiQIol4NESmYOepyVvpc4HHLuh0vhEWn1Z3YN/s1600/Bricks.png" height="170" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look out! Writer's blocks are flying!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I think <i>of</i> a
topic, I think <i>about</i> the topic, I <i>like</i> the topic, I fold it up and unfold
it like a piece of paper, several times, and eventually it gets dirty and worn
out and I don’t think it’s good enough to write about. I do this several times
about several topics in a week’s time, and each time I think of something to
write about and then don’t like it, I feel worse and worse about my abilities
as a writer. My mind feels like a messy room, cluttered up with crumpled pieces
of paper. Seriously, where is the trash can?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can basically slam almost every idea I have, and sometimes
only moments go by after I dismiss the idea and then I am in the middle of a
random daydream such as imagining giving the kids in Emmett’s class an
inspirational pep talk or making a mental list in order of priority of who I
would call if I accidentally cut my finger cutting up vegetables for dinner and
Joel can’t be reached. (There is clearly no shortage of thoughts; just focus and direction.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then I think maybe I really should “just write something,”
no matter what it is, for the exercise.
It would be like my creativity going out for a run. My creativity’s
muscles need to be kept strong so that it will be ready for the big race.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Big race.<o:p></o:p></div>
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[<i>I imagine myself running
a race, breathing in the dust of an old track and breathing out things like
frustration, but unfortunately, I am wearing basically a retro running outfit
with tall socks and short shorts, and I worry about whether I am running in a
manner that makes it obvious that I am self-conscious about my knobby knees. I
reason that if I run fast enough, none of that matters. By the way, what does
it feel like to run Olympic-runner fast? Does it feel...easy?</i>]<o:p></o:p></div>
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So...it’s almost mid-March, the snows are beginning to melt,
my many extra hours of available writing time are running low, and so here it
is...a piece about not writing. At least it’s something!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-71727184833577445662015-01-10T19:53:00.002-05:002015-01-10T19:53:38.602-05:00Review: The Den<div class="MsoNormal">
About ten years ago, a talented friend of mine, together with a crew
of local actors, friends and family, made a low-budget, dark comedy "creature feature" called <i>The Den</i>. Here we are, ten years later,
and the creature has been revived in webisode form: the movie is now being
released by Eclipse Media Productions in a six-part web series on YouTube. Episode
1 was released yesterday, and the following five episodes are to be released weekly.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Upon watching the trailer for <i>The Den</i> and seeing the word “horror” in brackets after the title,
my shoulders tensed up and I thought, “Oh crap.” I don’t like dark and scary
movies because I don’t like to be scared. It’s just not fun. Years back, I
watched <i>The Exorcist</i>, and I remember
that by the time the movie was over, I was sitting on my neck, and I was doing
neither Yoga nor Pilates at the time. That’s what watching scary movies does to
me (although, I guess at least I was just sitting on my neck, not spinning my
head around in circles).<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyway, thankfully,
the other adjective used to describe <i>The
Den</i> is “comedy,” so I figured that even as a dark comedy, as long as
there’s some lightness within the darkness, I should be able to handle it. I’m
an adult!</div>
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Episode 1 was a perfect helping of gritty, dark suspense with a nice side of comedic antics, and at just over seven minutes long, it was plenty long
enough to draw me in and leave me with that “aaaahh!!!” (tense-up-your-arms-and-make-half-hearted-jazz-hands) combination feeling of
anticipation and frustration that you get when you’re in the middle of watching
something, just getting to a good part, and then it stops and you have to wait
until next week for the next episode. I generally have so many questions about
so many things on a daily basis, and now these seven minutes of viewing time have
effectively sprinkled even more questions on top of my ever-present Question
Heap: questions about clan dissension, the characters, the mysterious battery
waste, the backwoods setting and of course the creature...and I’m happy to
report that I sat on my couch as a normal person would (so far).<o:p></o:p></div>
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One more notable item in this first episode is the guitar
shredding in the background soundtrack at one point, playing up the backwoods
characters’ edge and lending some intimidation to their grammar-slaughtered
speech. This cover of “Stairway to Heaven” is courtesy of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/CRCanada" target="_blank">Cole Rolland</a>, a talented
guitarist who is definitely worth checking out on YouTube.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I really like the way that this movie is being released, in
episode form. During these next weeks, anticipating the next section of the
story will be fun. I subscribed to the channel, and I am really excited to keep
watching because doggonit, I wanna see how this here story’s gwine t’ end!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Watch Episode 1 on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/ajheclipse" target="_blank">Eclipse Media Production’s YouTube channel</a>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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To find out more information about the original release and
making of <i>The Den</i> (an interesting
read), follow this link to <a href="http://eclipsemediaproductions.blogspot.ca/" target="_blank">Eclipse Media Production’s blog</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-28919529385141238342014-11-04T21:27:00.001-05:002014-11-04T21:27:10.119-05:00Embracing Winter<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmCEJStMLL6jM1EYNBHFTD_x5dAzD4TKSO6gckdxTsx1LnSHum_HkmPoSSwBQVdWuGGF-X0Z5F3Aik6u57c9yZgMbGsTgXDRyYLVHs8wmKCzhVa1fW8DwUQ1cSQ9NulXxZeR5kond_Cy8/s1600/IMG_1665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmCEJStMLL6jM1EYNBHFTD_x5dAzD4TKSO6gckdxTsx1LnSHum_HkmPoSSwBQVdWuGGF-X0Z5F3Aik6u57c9yZgMbGsTgXDRyYLVHs8wmKCzhVa1fW8DwUQ1cSQ9NulXxZeR5kond_Cy8/s1600/IMG_1665.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is one of the nice things about winter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I broke down a couple days ago and turned the heat on in my
house. It’s that time again...fall is letting go as winter begins to crush us
all.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Seriously, though, I really did not enjoy last winter at
all. Even though I was fully aware that yes, we’re in Canada, and part of Canadian life is surviving winter year after year, I still honestly don’t think we had suffered through a winter
as bad as last year’s in a long time. </div>
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The fluctuations in temperature combined
with other stressors, and I had a series of migraines (which I hadn’t had in
years), from January through to March. My hands got so dry that cracks appeared
around my fingertips and throbbed at night. We decided against going
tobogganing several times because it was just too cold. I wondered, Did the
wind have something against me personally? because it attacked me with ferocity every time I left my
house. We started running out of ideas for what to do to keep the kids
entertained inside, and then indoor hockey with small sticks in the basement it was (and our basement
walls really suffered, plus, I’m not good at hockey). We looked, but could not
find our marbles—those pretty, shiny, happy sanity marbles we had lost amidst toys,
slippers and scarves and desperate attempts to kill some time by throwing the
kids in the car and driving around with a coffee for an hour before dinner. We just could not find our marbles.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Last winter, Joel said to me, “You just have to embrace it! Embrace the cold and the snow! Embrace winter!”
I fully and completely decided against embracing winter last winter, but this
winter, since I have a little bit of time here to anticipate and brace for the storm (and because resisting winter didn't make it go away), I am thinking that I will try the “embrace it”
tactic this year. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This <i>does </i>make sense. If you repel something that is
imminent, you are exerting stress and effort against something you can’t
change, which results in exhaustion and frustration, right? I mean, we can’t
control winter here. The best we could do is get away somewhere warm for a while,
but unless you migrate to Florida from now until next April, that would still only be a temporary reprieve.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So...here are a few of my ideas for embracing winter this
year...yes, accepting it with slightly hesitant chicken arms into an awkward
embrace, during which me and winter both move our heads to the same side and
kind of bump up against each other’s shoulders—awkward but with good intentions.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Buy a
parka.</b> For years, I have survived
with dressier wool-blend coats because I’m just not the sporty type and I
generally avoid “warm weather” coats because I prefer the trench coat/pea coat
kind of style. That, however, won’t cut it if this upcoming winter
is anything like the last. So to Sport Chek or something like it I go! Maybe I’ll
even get some snowpants so I can trudge through the snow like a clumsy toddler. When in Canada!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Force
myself to get out in the sun.</b> Someone pointed out to me that while last
winter was snowy and cold, it was still quite sunny. I missed that, but I could have capitalized on at least the sun last winter. This past summer, every time I
was in the sun, I relished the happy and calm feeling that the Vitamin D
infusion gave me. I don’t want to miss any happy Vitamin D opportunities this winter. Whenever I can, whenever it’s
sunny, I’m going to do my best to get out there and expose as much skin as
possible, even if it’s just a square inch of my face, for like even ten minutes at a
time, to absorb some of that goodness, so that I can stay “level” instead of
falling into the icy clutches of Mr. Winter Blues. He’s mean.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Remember
all the good things about winter.</b> This is a short list, but hey, I’ll keep
repeating it and maybe even add to it! For me and Joel, it’s the few months off because we are both in the seasonal business and the free time it affords to do some relaxing and some home improvements, the
quiet stillness outside (even though it’s because most living things have
booked it out of here or died and because nobody works outside when it's -30C), the snow activities
(OK, I don’t really do any of them except sometimes tobogganing, but anyway)...the warm, soft sweaters? The hot drinks? The crispness of freshly fallen snow? ummm... Hmmm. I might have to work on this,
but I plan to keep reminding myself of the positives of winter!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Keep
planning things to look forward to.</b> January through March can be pretty
depressing because there never seems to be much to look forward to, especially compared to all the events and things that fill up spring through fall. Last year,
once Christmas was over, I found myself flailing around in a figurative pile of
snow (not a real pile because I didn’t have a parka and snowpants), not sure if
it was Monday or Friday, January or February, cold or ridiculously cold. Planning
some fun things every couple of weeks or once at month at least would be really
helpful to orient myself to the calendar and keep the spirits up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>Oh, speaking
of spirits, spirits.</b> Let's be real here. A drink goes a long
way to warm up a chilled body and brighten one’s outlook. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]--><b>When all
else fails, give up and run away down south for a short vacation.</b> I really
want to go away this winter. We’ll see how that works out, but thawing out on a
beach getting massive doses of sunshine would be blissfully awesome. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When I started out writing this post, I kind of thought I
would end up with a sizable list of really great ideas, but this list is kind
of lacking. Old man Winter sure is a tough guy to embrace. <o:p></o:p></div>
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If you have any ideas (other than skiing or snowboarding), please let me know - I'm desperate! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-56674447476926870042014-04-23T16:25:00.000-04:002014-04-23T16:25:54.188-04:00Just a Migraine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS2zPosXm7PlhWayvJdG3V1nFNFYZzhYkidL9gbrJjn9o7_VZJQep0K9DA1sj53cWjVi-AFp7UXb7XZCubpFEZNd6LcbR4_HlThyphenhyphenC1AwwjnOJowIDHSa7vQuVbRPQNTtX_oLUzSzw2MOp/s1600/Migraine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS2zPosXm7PlhWayvJdG3V1nFNFYZzhYkidL9gbrJjn9o7_VZJQep0K9DA1sj53cWjVi-AFp7UXb7XZCubpFEZNd6LcbR4_HlThyphenhyphenC1AwwjnOJowIDHSa7vQuVbRPQNTtX_oLUzSzw2MOp/s1600/Migraine.jpg" height="320" width="316" /></a></div>
<br />
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The only warning it spares me is a
slight jolt of imbalance. My centre of gravity is thrown off a fraction of a very little bit because a penny-sized space on the vista of my vision has gone blank.
I have to glance here and there and here and there to see if the blankness remains. My hands—I
always go to my reliable, familiar hands to see if parts of them are missing—to see if I
am seeing the aura.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Aura...what a beautiful word, and
what a mysterious word, and what a fearful word. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My heart rolls over and then
quickly gets back to pumping, a bit faster now. I never know how to announce
it, in order to excuse myself from whatever I'm doing. Words can never describe
the foreboding intensity. “Oh no, I’m getting a migraine” are just flat words
in comparison to the havoc my brain is starting to contend with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The blank spot moves as my eyes
move. In the mirror, half of my face fades away, so I look away. Everything I
look at slowly fades away. To see something in its fullness, I need to look all
the way around it instead of directly at it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My fragmented reflection in the
mirror is a fairly accurate representation of the fracture in my thoughts, the
fissure in my sense of existence. Now the aura has become a
distressingly-beautiful streak across all I sort-of-see, a streak altogether
full of black and white and sharp bits of moving light and nothing. A slice of
silent sound, a sunset of disconcerting incapacity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The aura denies me both thought
and action. It has stopped me in my tracks, leaving me with no choice but to
turn myself off and expect nothing of myself for a little while. Sometimes the
aura recedes behind my peripheral vision, idling there, only to throw her
sparkling, silent, violent streak of blankness across my vision once again, and
again, as though I did something to anger her and she is lashing out at me in a
personal, vindictive way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Is Aura a mystic? Surely there’s
something more to it than just constricted blood vessels and a sensation
spreading across my brain causing sensory confusion. Surely there’s something
more than just the science of it. What is she trying to tell me? What is she
trying to do to me? As much as I try to contemplate these complexities, she
cripples my powers of reasoning. The aura always eventually dissolves, but
though I know this, she always delivers a dose of panic from the edges of her
glimmer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When that sharp, jagged streak of the
aura’s horizon recedes, I am left with the dust and ashes of her mysterious
fury. The aftermath that the aura leaves me with varies, but it can range from
a shiny, golden box with a nail inside, which is figuratively hammered into my temple,
shattering my thoughts with exploding pain, or an assorted basket filled with
blurred vision, unclear thoughts and difficulty articulating words (which
delivers a fresh dose of panic because these types of symptoms are consistent
with those of a stroke), or perhaps she decides to leave me with a small bag
that when opened, reveals a blinding light that my eyes are so sensitive to that
I can’t help but hate the sun. The
aura may even migrate the visual streak of black-and-white-and-light-filled
nothing to my teeth and tongue, my hands, my ears, my left thigh—the
nothingness feeling numb and the sharp bits of moving light tingling my skin.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am spent, I do not fully know how
these constricted brain blood vessels have affected my overall health, I have lost
time, it will take some time to recover back into myself, I do not know when this
aura will blot out a spot of my sight again, or where I will be when it
happens, or exactly why, and now for some time, my heart will do a somersault
whenever I look at a bright car headlight and then look away and see a flash of
nothing, mimicking the aura, and my blood will run cold whenever a dividing
line such as a cell in Excel or a line on the pavement fades or comes to an
abrupt stop, and my stomach will lurch whenever the light starts to divide
objects in my sight into dark and bright momentarily, and I will feel a punch
of panic when my balance has the tiniest of hiccups—all because of the debilitating
mystery of migraine and his most dangerous offensive attacker, Aura.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6073874035903965084.post-60411472274936805802014-03-31T19:20:00.000-04:002014-03-31T19:20:00.063-04:00Yay for Yay! (and some thoughts on fashion and style)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9jA_2j_DmCup-h8Gna5mJwgrp6BFzN2uhIKIkGn45buZEX8IUvAVuefyalvQy12qOAFjhDOD9oRGezyr_lXD5uBL10zFFzYmiCGT0Sf71PLllI5w-rvC7VMh0ns8lnIQG3S3BuXSqBYm/s1600/for+six+month+fast+last+post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9jA_2j_DmCup-h8Gna5mJwgrp6BFzN2uhIKIkGn45buZEX8IUvAVuefyalvQy12qOAFjhDOD9oRGezyr_lXD5uBL10zFFzYmiCGT0Sf71PLllI5w-rvC7VMh0ns8lnIQG3S3BuXSqBYm/s1600/for+six+month+fast+last+post.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear Clothes in my Closet: Thanks for pulling me through this experience! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Today is the last day of my six-month fast from buying
clothes. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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Not buying clothes for half a year* was challenging, but it
was doable. I missed retail therapy, but I survived without it—here I remain,
craving a trip to the mall, yet completely unscathed! Having the luxury of
starting off with a closet full of clothes to choose from, even without being
able to add to it for six months, is much more than what so many people have,
so this six-month fast from buying clothes can really be summed up as a “first
world inconvenience.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve also realized that while having a sizable clothing
budget and a lot of time to spend shopping would be a dream come true—oh it
would be so very awesome—it’s actually quite rewarding, in its own way, to
piece together a functional and interesting closet of collections by being more
cost-conscious. (This is where my Dutch heritage mingles with the passion-for-fashion
platelets in my blood.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Here are some examples of how the cost-conscious collecting
mindset developed through this fast:<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before the fast started, I made a list of items that I
needed (and wanted, let’s be honest) to “get me through six months,” and I had
a lot of fun finding things during the fall seasonal promotions and through
searching online—I really thrive on the hunt. My sister hosted a clothing swap about a month into the fast, and so I acquired a few things that way, and I
also scored several really great items from a friend who cleaned out her
closet—so all in all, I managed to add to my wardrobe (and was also inspired to
subtract items that I wasn’t making good use of) without spending too much
money before this whole thing started, and I even continued to add to my
wardrobe while into the fast without actually buying anything (which was legit,
right?). <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have also found myself really anticipating doing some
thrift shopping again—just as much as I’m anticipating doing any on-line,
in-mall or a-la-boutique shopping. I love to hunt through racks of pre-owned
stuff, checking labels and material make-up, envisioning outfits, and then
paying a fraction of the original price. Seriously, some of the pieces of
clothing that have brought me the greatest number of compliments over the
years, the nicest quality and the staying power season after season, were
thrifted. I absolutely love bringing home those interesting treasures, and I
have missed hunting them down! Honestly, thrift stores are an inspiring
alternative where you can find things that are different from the usual fare,
have been broken in to achieve the highest comfort level, can be of very high
quality, and make a Dutch heart happily and excitedly pump Dutch blood through
Dutch veins at the price (<i>especially </i>when
compared to the value—the “Dutch inquiry,” as a friend dubbed it). You just
need some time and patience, and you need to know how to identify a well-made
item (like knowing your brands). <o:p></o:p></div>
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All in all, fashion doesn’t always come at a high price. Yes,
the best quality items are obviously more expensive, and they should be because
you are paying for high-quality craftsmanship and materials (and those big
names, which are generally big because of their quality), and I definitely
think that wardrobe basics should be regarded as investments, and I definitely
agree with “quality over quantity,” but I’ve also learned that you can have a
lot of fun compiling an interesting wardrobe that reflects your personal flair
by swapping clothes with friends or shopping at secondhand stores, and you can
modify existing pieces and switch up things you already have to freshen up your
look. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyway, through all of this, my thoughts and observations
have continually been faithful in leading me to the same truth: <b>The essence of a great outfit is in the confidence
of the wearer.</b> Confidence is so incredibly magnetic. When you wear
something you love, something that makes you feel like “you,” something that
compliments you—that satisfaction and confidence is like an attractive light
that warms you up and transcends the trends. Whatever the piece of clothing,
however much you paid for it, wherever you bought it, whatever kind of a
treasure hunt you went through to find it, however old it is—while these facts
may be interesting—none of it essentially determines the awesomeness of an
outfit. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have just recently come to love that essence of
fashion—that opportunity to wear something you think is just great and the tingly
feeling of blissful satisfaction you feel when it slips on like a second skin,
expressing something about you, making a statement, telling a story. Whatever
it is, the confidence that emulates from “that jacket” or “those heels” or
“that dress” or “those jeans and a t-shirt” is the intangible quality that any
piece of clothing can bring you, whether it cost you $500, $100 or
nothing—whether you bought it yesterday or over six months ago—it’s the way you
combine the pieces, the way the clothes reflect you, and how it all makes you
feel, that form the foundation of style.<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<i>Let me come clean here and get this one teeny thing off my
conscience: I had one slip-up a couple weeks ago. I bought a pair of pants and
a t shirt. The t shirt came free with the pants. I haven't worn the pants or the t shirt yet.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
Christina Durksenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15863220691801342200noreply@blogger.com0