I’m not an expert photographer. I’m not even a decent amateur. I’m just a girl who loves taking photos. Personally, I believe that any good shots I happen to capture occur merely because I was there at the right place, at the right time. (Or maybe it was because I took 15 photos to your one or two clicks of the shutter.) But no matter, it was just pure happenstance and running of the odds. Nothing more. I was ready, armed with my third eye and aimed at my target, and I got lucky.
For several years now, I’ve pondered pursuing photography more seriously. After all, I love it. It’s one of my favorite things to do. Wouldn’t it make sense to hone my craft and kick it up a notch? I’ve even considered taking a course or two, assisting with a real photographer on the side once again, or just reading and researching as much as I can on the subject. But something stops me – a part deep inside of me screams out “don’t do it.”
On the flip side, the perfectionist or over-achiever in me is pushing me to better my skills. Why do anything if you can’t do it right? If you have the chance to perform better with some training, why not take that next step to do so? Why settle for mediocrity (at best) rather than pursue brilliance?
I’m a passionate person. I rarely do anything half-heartedly. I’m a 110% girl. I’m consumed by my work, hobbies and activities. When I’m in, I’m all the way in, no-holds-barred. If I started pursuing photography like that, I’d be committed, dedicated and obsessed with it, even more than I am already as a novice.
And somehow, I fear that if I learned the “rules” or the “how-tos” of photography, the enchantment of this creative art would be replaced by someone else’s ideal. I’m afraid that I’d lose my love of the thing by over-pursuing another’s standard of it, and I don’t want to limit my scope based on someone else’s impression of what a good photo should be.
So call me crazy, but I think I’d rather continue to capture magic by mistake, for now.
DISCLAIMER: The author of the above article reserves the right to change her mind and reverse the decision made hereto at any time in the foreseeable future. She makes no apologies at the prospect of varying her opinions or disregarding her own solemn advice since she is subject to her own free will, the in-take of caffeine and the whims of an unfettered mind.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Europe, Here I Come!
My Grandfather (my Mom’s Dad) died in combat in World War II. He was killed near Berlin, Germany and buried in the Netherlands American Cemetery in Margraten. My Mom and her younger sister were small children when their father left for the war, and neither of them have ever been to visit his grave. So we’ve been talking about making this journey for years.
BIG NEWS!! Last weekend, we made our reservations for a river cruise along the Danube and Rhine Rivers for next year and included a 3-day extension in Belgium so that we can visit the cemetery in nearby Holland. It’s all very exciting! My Mom is over-the-charts excited already, and we've got months to go. But I love her enthusiasm (after all, I definitely get that from her), and I can't wait to tour Europe with her, my Dad and my Aunt Peggy. It will be another great adventure.
We’ll be starting our trip in Brussels, Belgium and then making our way to Amsterdam, where we’ll catch our river cruise. We’ll be making stops in Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic and Hungary as we make our way along the rivers. I can’t wait. I’m thinking that I might need to get another camera before our trip just so that I will have a back-up. It’s important to capture every moment, you know.
BIG NEWS!! Last weekend, we made our reservations for a river cruise along the Danube and Rhine Rivers for next year and included a 3-day extension in Belgium so that we can visit the cemetery in nearby Holland. It’s all very exciting! My Mom is over-the-charts excited already, and we've got months to go. But I love her enthusiasm (after all, I definitely get that from her), and I can't wait to tour Europe with her, my Dad and my Aunt Peggy. It will be another great adventure.
We’ll be starting our trip in Brussels, Belgium and then making our way to Amsterdam, where we’ll catch our river cruise. We’ll be making stops in Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic and Hungary as we make our way along the rivers. I can’t wait. I’m thinking that I might need to get another camera before our trip just so that I will have a back-up. It’s important to capture every moment, you know.
The Generous Listener
I know I’m not a perfect communicator. I’m flawed. I make mistakes. I say the wrong thing or circle the point instead of hitting it. But I do try. I try rather hard to make sure I am precise when communicating, especially via written words. In person or on the phone, I can get flustered or mixed up. My brain will go faster than my lips, and I never quite know what just got said. But when writing an email message or letter, I’m a chronic editor. I write and re-write even the simplest of messages just to make sure my words are saying what I want them to. [Believe me, I’ll edit this piece 10 times before I publish.] I take great pains to select my words carefully. I scrutinize each phrase, agonize over the meaning, consult my online dictionary and thesaurus. I want to get it right.
So my pride stings just a wee bit when someone misunderstands something I wrote them. After all I took the trouble to hand-pick each word and delicately phrase each line, and yet somehow, the reader read something else and missed my point. I spent all that time deliberating, obsessing over the right phrasing, making sure my message was clear and precise, and yet despite my best efforts, my intended meaning was missed by the receiving party.
Fact is that we can’t control how someone else will take our words. All of us can find different meaning in the same words. In essence we are each at the mercy of another's interpretation. We each have our own internal dictionary, our own experiences that taint our view, our own defenses and walls that keep us from the truth. We will hear what we want to hear, read what we expected to read, and often miss what the author tried to say. We’re human, selfish beings, focused on how the words affect us. We are so focused on ourselves that we often miss the author’s words entirely.
There is such possibility, such promise, such overwhelming opportunity in language. So much of our existence and our future depends on our communication, and I think we all have room for improvement. (I know I do.) We need to embrace the listener inside of us. We need to read what is written, accept the words at face value and not over-analyze the meaning. We need to give people the benefit of the doubt and not seek out offenses wherever we look. We need to be precise and clear with our language and learn to listen even more carefully and generously.
So my pride stings just a wee bit when someone misunderstands something I wrote them. After all I took the trouble to hand-pick each word and delicately phrase each line, and yet somehow, the reader read something else and missed my point. I spent all that time deliberating, obsessing over the right phrasing, making sure my message was clear and precise, and yet despite my best efforts, my intended meaning was missed by the receiving party.
Fact is that we can’t control how someone else will take our words. All of us can find different meaning in the same words. In essence we are each at the mercy of another's interpretation. We each have our own internal dictionary, our own experiences that taint our view, our own defenses and walls that keep us from the truth. We will hear what we want to hear, read what we expected to read, and often miss what the author tried to say. We’re human, selfish beings, focused on how the words affect us. We are so focused on ourselves that we often miss the author’s words entirely.
There is such possibility, such promise, such overwhelming opportunity in language. So much of our existence and our future depends on our communication, and I think we all have room for improvement. (I know I do.) We need to embrace the listener inside of us. We need to read what is written, accept the words at face value and not over-analyze the meaning. We need to give people the benefit of the doubt and not seek out offenses wherever we look. We need to be precise and clear with our language and learn to listen even more carefully and generously.
Ode to Mountain Dew
I tried to give you up.
I walked away from us for more than a year.
I said my goodbyes.
I thought we were through.
But then, you found me again,
Reminded me of better days, younger years.
You reached out.
And you had me at the first carbonated sip.
Your citrus goodness soothed my troubled soul.
You quenched my thirst like nothing else.
You bring out the best in me.
You fill me with sparkle, energy and zing.
Yes, you complete me.
You make me a better woman.
I am yours.
I walked away from us for more than a year.
I said my goodbyes.
I thought we were through.
But then, you found me again,
Reminded me of better days, younger years.
You reached out.
And you had me at the first carbonated sip.
Your citrus goodness soothed my troubled soul.
You quenched my thirst like nothing else.
You bring out the best in me.
You fill me with sparkle, energy and zing.
Yes, you complete me.
You make me a better woman.
I am yours.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Everybody's Fine
I caught this Robert De Niro film on Netflix, and I would recommend it. Everybody’s Fine is an honest portayal of real family dynamics – especially between parents and their adult children.
A recently widowed father packs his bags and set off across the country to surprise each of his 3 adult children and their families with a visit. Along the way, he discovers how little he knows his own kids and learns how much his wife and children kept from him over the years. He sets out to change the status quo and create an open, honest sharing relationship with his children. He wants to know them as they are, not as he once thought they were.
The film made me think of both my parents, and I even teared up a bit. In fact, after finishing the film, I opted to call my parents and catch up for a few minutes. I’m much more candid and real with my parents than I used to be. I’ve learned that they can handle hearing the truth. They want me to be honest about where I am, how I’m feeling, what I’m struggling with, etc. They really want to know me.
I remember a few years back, I had a heart-to-heart with my parents about my single status. I described the good, the bad and the ugly. I opened up and was raw and direct with them, and then asked for their insight and feedback because I wanted to know what they thought. I was blown away with their response of compassion and love. They didn’t think less of me because I hadn’t paired off. They didn’t feel that I was letting them down. Those feelings were coming from somewhere else – coming from me. And I might never have realized how much they understood and knew me if I hadn’t opted to share that secret pain and longing I was holding inside. Our relationship has been better ever since.
Sure, there are things I don’t tell my parents or choose not to bring up, but I don’t lie to them. If they ask me a direct question, I answer it as best I can, but sure, there are certain things I choose to keep to myself. Some things are better left unsaid. But gone are the days where everything is always fine. Life is so more than that -- more than existence, more than just routine, more than just survival. It is a miracle, a gift, a journey filled with highs, lows and somewhere in the middle. It is heart-breaking and hopeful, marvelous and horrid, devastating and delightful. So much more than fine.
A recently widowed father packs his bags and set off across the country to surprise each of his 3 adult children and their families with a visit. Along the way, he discovers how little he knows his own kids and learns how much his wife and children kept from him over the years. He sets out to change the status quo and create an open, honest sharing relationship with his children. He wants to know them as they are, not as he once thought they were.
The film made me think of both my parents, and I even teared up a bit. In fact, after finishing the film, I opted to call my parents and catch up for a few minutes. I’m much more candid and real with my parents than I used to be. I’ve learned that they can handle hearing the truth. They want me to be honest about where I am, how I’m feeling, what I’m struggling with, etc. They really want to know me.
I remember a few years back, I had a heart-to-heart with my parents about my single status. I described the good, the bad and the ugly. I opened up and was raw and direct with them, and then asked for their insight and feedback because I wanted to know what they thought. I was blown away with their response of compassion and love. They didn’t think less of me because I hadn’t paired off. They didn’t feel that I was letting them down. Those feelings were coming from somewhere else – coming from me. And I might never have realized how much they understood and knew me if I hadn’t opted to share that secret pain and longing I was holding inside. Our relationship has been better ever since.
Sure, there are things I don’t tell my parents or choose not to bring up, but I don’t lie to them. If they ask me a direct question, I answer it as best I can, but sure, there are certain things I choose to keep to myself. Some things are better left unsaid. But gone are the days where everything is always fine. Life is so more than that -- more than existence, more than just routine, more than just survival. It is a miracle, a gift, a journey filled with highs, lows and somewhere in the middle. It is heart-breaking and hopeful, marvelous and horrid, devastating and delightful. So much more than fine.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Little Class Goes a Long Way
Growing up, I didn’t really feel there were many advantages to my small, private, Christian school education. In fact, I would say that the reverse was my focus. I fixated on the negatives and the downside of being outside the norm. I wanted to be like everybody else -- dress similarly, know the same people, etc. But that wasn't in my cards.
From kindergarten through 8th grade, my sister and I were bussed 30 miles from home to a medium-sized Christian school along with fellow students from our church and surrounding areas. I think originally there were about 25-30 students per grade, which was a perfect size really. But then when I was in the 5th grade, the church that held my school had a large number of families leave the church, and they pulled their children from the school rapidly. Over night, I lost several great friends and classmates. And every year after that, our numbers dwindled down even further. I think there were 5 of us when I graduated from the 8th grade. It was sad.
As a further twist, the families at my church decided to make a big switch after my 8th grade year, and so for high school, I attended an even smaller school. The transition was hard at first, but I soon adjusted, and four years later, I graduated at the top of my class of 3. Yep, you read that right. There were 3 of us that marched that May evening in 1992, where I gave an inspirational, sentimental, suck-up Valedictorian speech. HA! Hard to believe it was more than 18 years ago now that I walked down that aisle with my 3” inch bangs and my cheap white pump shoes. Those were the days...
This weekend, I mused with friends who could relate that one advantage of graduating from a small Christian school is that it can sometimes be easier to keep track of your former classmates. Hee hee! Yes, I am proud to say that I have kept in touch with both of mine: Doug and Keven have not been forgotten. And I haven't forgotten the other "kids" from school either. I’ve found and been found by a lot of former classmates and alumni from both schools on Facebook. It’s funny how memories flood back when you get a friend request from an old chum. Oh the stories that could be told...
So maybe it was NOT a perfect childhood. Maybe it was a bit quirky and dysfunctional in a way. Maybe it felt a bit isolated and off at times. But during those years, I made some long-lasting attachments in our minute, tight-knit community. Friendships were forged that are following me still, and today finds me grateful -- grateful for every one.
I’m sure there are other advantage to a smaller-sized graduating class or school. Can you think of any? Feel free to share!
From kindergarten through 8th grade, my sister and I were bussed 30 miles from home to a medium-sized Christian school along with fellow students from our church and surrounding areas. I think originally there were about 25-30 students per grade, which was a perfect size really. But then when I was in the 5th grade, the church that held my school had a large number of families leave the church, and they pulled their children from the school rapidly. Over night, I lost several great friends and classmates. And every year after that, our numbers dwindled down even further. I think there were 5 of us when I graduated from the 8th grade. It was sad.
As a further twist, the families at my church decided to make a big switch after my 8th grade year, and so for high school, I attended an even smaller school. The transition was hard at first, but I soon adjusted, and four years later, I graduated at the top of my class of 3. Yep, you read that right. There were 3 of us that marched that May evening in 1992, where I gave an inspirational, sentimental, suck-up Valedictorian speech. HA! Hard to believe it was more than 18 years ago now that I walked down that aisle with my 3” inch bangs and my cheap white pump shoes. Those were the days...
This weekend, I mused with friends who could relate that one advantage of graduating from a small Christian school is that it can sometimes be easier to keep track of your former classmates. Hee hee! Yes, I am proud to say that I have kept in touch with both of mine: Doug and Keven have not been forgotten. And I haven't forgotten the other "kids" from school either. I’ve found and been found by a lot of former classmates and alumni from both schools on Facebook. It’s funny how memories flood back when you get a friend request from an old chum. Oh the stories that could be told...
So maybe it was NOT a perfect childhood. Maybe it was a bit quirky and dysfunctional in a way. Maybe it felt a bit isolated and off at times. But during those years, I made some long-lasting attachments in our minute, tight-knit community. Friendships were forged that are following me still, and today finds me grateful -- grateful for every one.
I’m sure there are other advantage to a smaller-sized graduating class or school. Can you think of any? Feel free to share!
Girls' Night Exit
On Saturday night, I joined my friend Sheryl and 2 of her friends for a girls’ night out on the town. It was a fun evening and meeting Heather and Holly proved delightful! I like finding new kindred spirits along the journey.
We started our evening at Maggiano’s for some family style fare. YUM! I haven’t eaten there much at all in the past, and so all of our shared selections were new to me. I discovered that the stuffed mushrooms were mouth-wateringly tasty, and the chicken and spinach manicotti was extra delectable with all it’s cheesy goodness. Can you tell that the diet was kicked to the curb for the evening?
We next headed to the cinema to see Exit Through the Gift Shop, a quirky documentary on Mr. Brainwash(MBW also known as Thierry Guetta) and other street artists such as Shepard Fairey and the elusive Banksy. Truth be told, this was my first introduction to the world of street art also known as graffiti, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the film was more comical than I thought it would be and highly enjoyable. For me, the film raised blurred some lines and brought up questions about reality and truth. The online buzz indicates that I am not alone in my query. Who’s truth were we hearing, etc.?
In defense of the film and whether the documentary was real or not, one film reviewer (Ty Burr of The Boston Globe) said:
We finished up our evening at the Cheesecake Factory for some dessert and coffee. You all know better than to ask if I indulged in coffee or not. Hee hee! But I sure enjoyed the blueberry white chocolate cheesecake along with our conversations. It was a fabulous, flourishing finish to our night out! Thanks, girls!
I’ll leave you with a funny quote from the movie, which I just had to jot down: “It was behind my expectation.” (I think he meant to say it was BEYOND his expectation. HA!)
We started our evening at Maggiano’s for some family style fare. YUM! I haven’t eaten there much at all in the past, and so all of our shared selections were new to me. I discovered that the stuffed mushrooms were mouth-wateringly tasty, and the chicken and spinach manicotti was extra delectable with all it’s cheesy goodness. Can you tell that the diet was kicked to the curb for the evening?
We next headed to the cinema to see Exit Through the Gift Shop, a quirky documentary on Mr. Brainwash(MBW also known as Thierry Guetta) and other street artists such as Shepard Fairey and the elusive Banksy. Truth be told, this was my first introduction to the world of street art also known as graffiti, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the film was more comical than I thought it would be and highly enjoyable. For me, the film raised blurred some lines and brought up questions about reality and truth. The online buzz indicates that I am not alone in my query. Who’s truth were we hearing, etc.?
In defense of the film and whether the documentary was real or not, one film reviewer (Ty Burr of The Boston Globe) said:
“I’m not buying it; for one thing, this story’s too good, too weirdly rich, to be made up. For another, the movie’s gently amused scorn lands on everyone.”Quite true! I just wonder who really has the last laugh? HA! Real or not, it was entertaining!
We finished up our evening at the Cheesecake Factory for some dessert and coffee. You all know better than to ask if I indulged in coffee or not. Hee hee! But I sure enjoyed the blueberry white chocolate cheesecake along with our conversations. It was a fabulous, flourishing finish to our night out! Thanks, girls!
I’ll leave you with a funny quote from the movie, which I just had to jot down: “It was behind my expectation.” (I think he meant to say it was BEYOND his expectation. HA!)
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Don't Let It Go
I like some kid movies. I do. And I love Meet the Robinsons. It’s quirky, heart-warming, fun and filled with dark sarcasm. OK, so maybe it's not so much a kids’ movie really.
One particular scene makes me laugh just thinking about it. A character (black bowler hat guy) goes back in time and runs into his childhood self, Goob, on what would prove-to-be a critical day in his young life. Poor Goob had just missed a possible game-ending catch in the ninth inning, costing his team the win and provoking his teammates to take out all their anger and frustration on him with their fists.
Now I hear or read those words, and I chuckle. I laugh a bit at the pathetic man in the black bowler hat. How silly! How absurd! Most of us wouldn’t advise a young boy to hold a grudge and allow bitterness to fester, and we certainly wouldn’t encourage someone to let hate take over and control them. Of course not! We would try to foster the very opposite character traits like forgiveness and love.
But sometimes, I think we live like that. I know I do. Even though I wouldn’t say I am really a grudge-bearer, somehow I still seem quite capable of holding on to a past wrong even if it is just in my head. Maybe I don’t simmer on it daily, but when I see that person or they come up in a conversation, that past misdeed is the FIRST thing that comes back to mind. I might not mention it. I might not bring it up at all. I might be all smiles and how-do-you-do, but that memory blip is still there, just under the radar. I might have forgiven, but I haven’t been able to completely let it go. I’m festering bitterness, and like the black bowler hat guy, I could let it grow until it overtakes me and turns me into a -- well, it turned him into a revengeful freak, and I don’t want that. Yep, I need to let it go.
Aren’t you glad that when GOD sees us he doesn’t just see all of our past wrongs? HE knows about them. HE saw it happen. HE was the ONE we really hurt, after all, and yet, HE puts all of that behind HIM and holds out HIS hand. HE’s let it go. Now why can’t I?
One particular scene makes me laugh just thinking about it. A character (black bowler hat guy) goes back in time and runs into his childhood self, Goob, on what would prove-to-be a critical day in his young life. Poor Goob had just missed a possible game-ending catch in the ninth inning, costing his team the win and provoking his teammates to take out all their anger and frustration on him with their fists.
He tells his future self the whole story and then with a sigh says: “Coach took me aside. He told me to let it go. I don't know, he's probably right.”
But his future self, a tortured soul, proudly proclaims, “NO! Everyone will tell you to let it go and move on but don't! Instead, let it fester and boil inside of you! Take these feelings and lock them away. Let them fuel your actions. Let hate be your ally, and you will be capable of wonderful, horrid things. Heed my words, Goob: don't let it go!!!”
Now I hear or read those words, and I chuckle. I laugh a bit at the pathetic man in the black bowler hat. How silly! How absurd! Most of us wouldn’t advise a young boy to hold a grudge and allow bitterness to fester, and we certainly wouldn’t encourage someone to let hate take over and control them. Of course not! We would try to foster the very opposite character traits like forgiveness and love.
But sometimes, I think we live like that. I know I do. Even though I wouldn’t say I am really a grudge-bearer, somehow I still seem quite capable of holding on to a past wrong even if it is just in my head. Maybe I don’t simmer on it daily, but when I see that person or they come up in a conversation, that past misdeed is the FIRST thing that comes back to mind. I might not mention it. I might not bring it up at all. I might be all smiles and how-do-you-do, but that memory blip is still there, just under the radar. I might have forgiven, but I haven’t been able to completely let it go. I’m festering bitterness, and like the black bowler hat guy, I could let it grow until it overtakes me and turns me into a -- well, it turned him into a revengeful freak, and I don’t want that. Yep, I need to let it go.
Aren’t you glad that when GOD sees us he doesn’t just see all of our past wrongs? HE knows about them. HE saw it happen. HE was the ONE we really hurt, after all, and yet, HE puts all of that behind HIM and holds out HIS hand. HE’s let it go. Now why can’t I?
Monday, June 7, 2010
It’s All About the Journey, Right?
I love road trips. Always have. Something incredibly inspiring and thrilling about driving across America’s roadways and seeing other parts of the country. It appeals to me. And the truth be told, I don’t require exotic locales or extreme distance driving either. I’m rather fond of my roots, and the Midwest is full of “fresh territory” to explore or old haunts to reclaim, and so I have much more to investigate nearby. Day trip visits to Newark, Ohio or Fairmount, Indiana work just fine for me, and those locations are easier on a single girl's budget and her time, too.
Yes, eventually I’d love to make it out West to California, Washington, Arizona, Nevada, Texas, Colorado and Oregon someday. Those are all on my to-do list. I also have the urge to return to New Mexico and revisit the Dakota badlands as well. I’d love to re-discover the East coast again as an adult, and it is common knowledge that I never tire of visiting the South (like the Carolinas, Tennessee, etc.) or Washington, D.C. either. However, when I can’t get away for an extended retreat, a short road trip is good for all that ails me.
Last Friday, I had scheduled a quick trip to Dayton, Ohio to pick up the bridesmaid dresses for my niece Janet’s wedding in August. My sister and I are both in the wedding party, and since I have my Fridays off on my 4x10 day schedule, I volunteered to make the drive to collect them. Originally on this venture, I had planned to make a stop and visit the Dayton Art Institute again. It's a favorite of mine, and it made sense since I would be so close, but then another thought occurred to me the night before the drive. Hmmmm...I wonder where the Dawes Arboretum is again? Wasn’t it in Ohio?
The back story here is that several years ago, 3 friends and I took a fun-filled, breathless, blitz, weekend road trip to Washington, D.C. On the drive back through Ohio, we happened upon the Dawes Arboretum in Newark. We stopped for an hour or so to stretch our legs, did a running highlight tour of the gardens and then got back on the road towards Indianapolis. It was quite fun, the gardens were lovely, and the whole stop was rather memorable.
So back to Thursday around midnight, I got out my atlas and hopped online and chartered a route to the center of Ohio and back again. I immediately realized that Newark was NOT on my way to Dayton at all. In fact it was about an hour and a half beyond Dayton. AHEM! So I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to make that long of a day trip or not, but I headed back to bed, my head pondering the many possibilities.
I woke up Friday morning, still debating what to do. I started out for Dayton and along the way called my sister and told her I was opting for the longer, scenic tour. I was going to go to Dayton and beyond. This girl was out for an adventure and a chance to revisit a spot I had enjoyed once before.
Nearly 4 hours later, I arrived at the Dawes Arboretum and set off to explore the many gardens, snapping photos along the way. It was a hot, muggy day, but I was still in my element. I was elated to be back again, strolling through the Japanese gardens and marveling at the hedge that spells out “DAWES ARBORETUM.” I had a marvelous time, and I’m so glad that I opted to head out on such an amazing excursion on my own. Honestly, I think Friday’s excursion gives me some real spontaneity points! COME ON! I earned them! I wanted to be more spontaneous in 2010, and so my “to-Newark-and-back” trip definitely deserves several points. I showed real spontaneous promise what with my lack of decision-making and unplanned detour along the journey. It was a win-win situation really!
Bridesmaid dresses safely and timely retrieved from the Alfred Angelo store in Dayton – CHECK!
Savoring the view of the Japanese Gardens (and plotting my future wedding on location there) – CHECK!
Life enriched with spontaneous nature adventure and discovering new roadside scenery – DOUBLE CHECK!!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Saying No
Do you ever catch yourself doing something merely out of guilt? You don’t necessarily have the time or energy to give to another person or ministry, and yet, you participate anyway just because you would feel guilty saying no?
All of these events can be good and truly could make positive impact in the lives of others. Not to mention that our participation would probably be appreciated. But what about our motives? Why are we there?
I often catch myself with less-than-perfect motives. OK, let's face it -- I’m a flawed, sinful creature. Of course, my motives are often going to be purely selfish. And while I don’t want my motives to keep me from interacting with others or seeking out service opportunities, I find that examining my motives can sometimes help me focus and evaluate my priorities.
Several verses immediately come to mind, but one stands out. When asked which commandment was the greatest, Jesus replied: And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these. (Mark 12:30-31)
WOW! I need this passage ingrained in my head. I need to dwell on it and really ponder the depths of what GOD is asking of me. HE wants me to love HIM with all that I am and have, but not only that, HE asks me to love another person as much as I love myself. So should I ever really say no? I mean if someone needs my participation or assistance, how can I in good conscience refuse them?
I love Mercy Me’s song This Life, which is the first track on their newest CD...
I love those lyrics. We truly are meant to shine and burn brightly in this life.
But there are times, where in order to avoid burnout and to shine our brightest, we need to escape the demands and pressures of society. We need to pull back and free ourselves from the constant sense of obligation, duty, service and participation. We don’t need to accept every invitation or enroll in every service project. We need to know our own personal limits and endurance levels. We need to learn when to say no, when to politely decline and bow out gracefully.
I like reading those instances in JESUS' earthly ministry where HE chose to get away from the crowds that were pressing in on HIM with their needs, requests for healing and spiritual help. More than once, HE pulled away from the masses, withdrew from society and sought rest and solitude. I love that. I love how HE was fully human and yet fully divine. It’s a magical mix that confounds me and somehow gives me peace. Seeing HIM take time off to allow HIS human body and mind a chance to recover and catch up on rest makes me feel better when I crave it, too.
As a singleton, I’ve heard some really lame things over the years about how I should be busy actively serving non-stop because of my single status. As if, my lack of a spouse or an immediate family means that I am an expendable resource, an inexhaustible commodity that should stop pursuing anything but heavenly matters because of the time on my hands. This stings more than little.
If the first commandment is to love GOD, then shouldn’t we all -- married, dating, single, divorced and widowed -- be pursuing “heavenly matters”? I know that Paul admonished those without spouses to serve, but Paul did not exempt the rest of the population from actively serving by default either. We are each to do what we can and be accountable to the only ONE who knows us inside and out.
I recognize that there is a delicate balance at play here. GOD wants me actively serving and reaching out to those in my sphere of influence, and I shouldn’t be lazy about it. On the other hand, I need to check my motives and remember my own human limitations and responsibilities.
LORD, help me to seek out opportunities to serve, while humbly recognizing that YOU don’t need me to do it all. Help me to identify my human limits and learn to say yes or no when I should.
- Attending a friend’s get together even though you could use a couple hours of time to your self after the insane week you have had
- Going to several graduation open houses even though you don’t know the graduates very well at all or perhaps you really only know a cousin of the graduate’s parents' friend, etc.
- Assisting with a move even though you are personally exhausted and should be resting up for next week’s busy project week
- Volunteering for a church work day event because very few signed up on the list
All of these events can be good and truly could make positive impact in the lives of others. Not to mention that our participation would probably be appreciated. But what about our motives? Why are we there?
I often catch myself with less-than-perfect motives. OK, let's face it -- I’m a flawed, sinful creature. Of course, my motives are often going to be purely selfish. And while I don’t want my motives to keep me from interacting with others or seeking out service opportunities, I find that examining my motives can sometimes help me focus and evaluate my priorities.
- Am I helping my friend move because I might need some similar help in the near future? Am I physically able to help out this weekend? Or on the flip side, am I not helping because he didn’t help with my own move, and I'm still a wee bit bitter about it?
- Am I attending this party out of obligation because she attended my cookout a couple of weeks back? I don't want her to think badly of me, but I'm so tired and drained, and when am I supposed to do laundry so I can go to work in clean clothes? Or on the flip side, am I not attending because she skipped my party?
- Am I volunteering for this event merely because others did not? I don't want to leave the project leader in a bind, and I know he could really use the help. But am I just doing this out of pride or sense of obligation? Am I just seeking recognition? He often brags about how he can always count on me, and sure, I secretly like to hear his praises. But the truth is that my home is a disaster right now, and I'm unprepared to host Monday's dinner party.
Several verses immediately come to mind, but one stands out. When asked which commandment was the greatest, Jesus replied: And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these. (Mark 12:30-31)
WOW! I need this passage ingrained in my head. I need to dwell on it and really ponder the depths of what GOD is asking of me. HE wants me to love HIM with all that I am and have, but not only that, HE asks me to love another person as much as I love myself. So should I ever really say no? I mean if someone needs my participation or assistance, how can I in good conscience refuse them?
I love Mercy Me’s song This Life, which is the first track on their newest CD...
“Hold your heads up high
This is our moment to rise
We were meant to shine
Not just survive...”
I love those lyrics. We truly are meant to shine and burn brightly in this life.
But there are times, where in order to avoid burnout and to shine our brightest, we need to escape the demands and pressures of society. We need to pull back and free ourselves from the constant sense of obligation, duty, service and participation. We don’t need to accept every invitation or enroll in every service project. We need to know our own personal limits and endurance levels. We need to learn when to say no, when to politely decline and bow out gracefully.
I like reading those instances in JESUS' earthly ministry where HE chose to get away from the crowds that were pressing in on HIM with their needs, requests for healing and spiritual help. More than once, HE pulled away from the masses, withdrew from society and sought rest and solitude. I love that. I love how HE was fully human and yet fully divine. It’s a magical mix that confounds me and somehow gives me peace. Seeing HIM take time off to allow HIS human body and mind a chance to recover and catch up on rest makes me feel better when I crave it, too.
As a singleton, I’ve heard some really lame things over the years about how I should be busy actively serving non-stop because of my single status. As if, my lack of a spouse or an immediate family means that I am an expendable resource, an inexhaustible commodity that should stop pursuing anything but heavenly matters because of the time on my hands. This stings more than little.
If the first commandment is to love GOD, then shouldn’t we all -- married, dating, single, divorced and widowed -- be pursuing “heavenly matters”? I know that Paul admonished those without spouses to serve, but Paul did not exempt the rest of the population from actively serving by default either. We are each to do what we can and be accountable to the only ONE who knows us inside and out.
I recognize that there is a delicate balance at play here. GOD wants me actively serving and reaching out to those in my sphere of influence, and I shouldn’t be lazy about it. On the other hand, I need to check my motives and remember my own human limitations and responsibilities.
LORD, help me to seek out opportunities to serve, while humbly recognizing that YOU don’t need me to do it all. Help me to identify my human limits and learn to say yes or no when I should.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Sex and the City 2
I recently went to see Sex and the City 2 with a friend, and I came away realizing how unlike Sex and the City my life is.
Admittedly I can identify with aspects of a couple of their personalities. But Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, Samantha and I just don’t have a lot in common with each other, and I don’t think we could really be friends. Sure, we’re all women interested in men, pursuing a career, defining our role within our family or network, but there isn’t much else we share.
I never watched the show on HBO and have never caught an entire episode on reruns either. I’ve watched snippets over the years and did catch the first film on DVD, which had some charming moments. In fact, over all, I thought the first film was all right. But after viewing the second film, I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss much by not becoming a fan of the show and watching the series.
The writing might be decent and perhaps even clever at times, but the show does not match my definition of what a woman is. This ultra-modern feminist is crass, crude and derogatory to both sexes, and that doesn’t spell entertainment for me. Maybe you could argue that the writers have merely turned the tables on how men objectify women by reversing the scenario! I’ll admit that there might be some truth to that, but regardless, this film did not provide me with viewing pleasure. I wanted less not more. And I seriously wanted to just go home and take a shower afterwards.
I’m a nugget person. I try to find the redeeming qualities in just about anything I watch, read or encounter, but I really struggled with this film. Sure, I found a couple of things I could pull out, but I had to really search for them, buried deep within. Call me a prude, a moralist, an old-fashioned girl or a goody-two-shoes, but there just went 2 hours of my life I can’t get back.
Admittedly I can identify with aspects of a couple of their personalities. But Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte, Samantha and I just don’t have a lot in common with each other, and I don’t think we could really be friends. Sure, we’re all women interested in men, pursuing a career, defining our role within our family or network, but there isn’t much else we share.
I never watched the show on HBO and have never caught an entire episode on reruns either. I’ve watched snippets over the years and did catch the first film on DVD, which had some charming moments. In fact, over all, I thought the first film was all right. But after viewing the second film, I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss much by not becoming a fan of the show and watching the series.
The writing might be decent and perhaps even clever at times, but the show does not match my definition of what a woman is. This ultra-modern feminist is crass, crude and derogatory to both sexes, and that doesn’t spell entertainment for me. Maybe you could argue that the writers have merely turned the tables on how men objectify women by reversing the scenario! I’ll admit that there might be some truth to that, but regardless, this film did not provide me with viewing pleasure. I wanted less not more. And I seriously wanted to just go home and take a shower afterwards.
I’m a nugget person. I try to find the redeeming qualities in just about anything I watch, read or encounter, but I really struggled with this film. Sure, I found a couple of things I could pull out, but I had to really search for them, buried deep within. Call me a prude, a moralist, an old-fashioned girl or a goody-two-shoes, but there just went 2 hours of my life I can’t get back.
Missing A Part of My Self
I recently received some rather devastating news. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t ready, but the facts were there, and I was forced to face them. I’m coping as well as could be expected and am just holding back the melancholy and depression, but it hasn’t been easy to adjust or acknowledge reality. I’d much prefer to go back to the way things were before and live oblivious to the truth, but we can’t go back and live in the past.
I always knew that this day would come, but I thought I could easily hold it off until after I turned 40. I thought I had time to mentally cope and brace myself for future alterations. Unfortunately, that is not to be the case. I’m there already. It’s time to embrace the truth. I’m currently only 4 feet 11 and 5/8 inches (sniffle, sniffle). Yep, I’m now officially under 5 feet tall. SIGH!
I’ve lost part of my self, and I don’t think I’ll get it back. I’m shrinking, and it’s not the good kind of shrinkage that I’ve been working so hard at. No, the inches lost are all height, which basically means that I’m getting more and more compact and losing weight is going to be more difficult. Just great!
But life must go on. I can’t get my pinnacle back. My peak days are gone, and all the wishing in the world cannot return my glory days to me. It’s time to let it go and walk on as tall as I can manage. Perhaps I need to stop sporting my ballet shoes and sporty extra-comfy Sketchers and go straight for the platform or stiletto heels. Yeah! That’s me. Next time you see me, I might be limping your direction or have a seriously sprained ankle or two, but I’ll be walking proud and tall. HA!
I always knew that this day would come, but I thought I could easily hold it off until after I turned 40. I thought I had time to mentally cope and brace myself for future alterations. Unfortunately, that is not to be the case. I’m there already. It’s time to embrace the truth. I’m currently only 4 feet 11 and 5/8 inches (sniffle, sniffle). Yep, I’m now officially under 5 feet tall. SIGH!
I’ve lost part of my self, and I don’t think I’ll get it back. I’m shrinking, and it’s not the good kind of shrinkage that I’ve been working so hard at. No, the inches lost are all height, which basically means that I’m getting more and more compact and losing weight is going to be more difficult. Just great!
But life must go on. I can’t get my pinnacle back. My peak days are gone, and all the wishing in the world cannot return my glory days to me. It’s time to let it go and walk on as tall as I can manage. Perhaps I need to stop sporting my ballet shoes and sporty extra-comfy Sketchers and go straight for the platform or stiletto heels. Yeah! That’s me. Next time you see me, I might be limping your direction or have a seriously sprained ankle or two, but I’ll be walking proud and tall. HA!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Just Commit Me Already...
Sometimes I get the distinct impression that some married people feel that thirty-something singles just can’t commit, as if all of us are unstable beings in a constant state of flux that just haven’t grown up yet and can’t take responsibility. That just makes me laugh!
I’m committed. I’m very committed.
JOB: I have been with the same company for nearly 6 years. I’m committed to do my job the best way I know how and to explore new opportunities to grow myself and my career within the company.
APARTMENT: I probably shouldn’t mention this one, but I have been in the same apartment for 9+ years. I know, you probably feel I should be building equity by purchasing a house or condo, right? Well, home ownership has not been within my financial means or personal comfort zone in the past, and so, I have chosen to invest in other ways and have enjoyed the benefits of a nearly-fixed rent rate. (And when I say nearly-fixed, I mean that my rent went down a few years ago, and it is just now back up to where it was when I signed my first lease. That is a nice perk!) I’m currently saving to buy a house/condo, and I’m committed to pursuing that dream.
CAR: My car and I have been together for nearly 9 and a half years. Madison (aka “Maddy”) is an amazing, spirited, midnight plum Honda Civic. She and I have shared a journey of almost 125,000 miles, and I hope we have many more roads to travel together.
FRIENDSHIPS: I have maintained many friendships that began when I was a child, and I love keeping connections going. It's important to me to continue making contact with other people. I love building on old friendships as well as exploring new ones, and once you are my friend, it's hard to get rid of me. Hee hee!
No, I don’t think loyalty and faithfulness are areas I struggle with in my personal or professional life. I'm committed, and I’m quite capable of more commitment. I just haven’t found a suitable match of my own to commit to yet, and if he’s out there, if he actually exists on planet earth, I’m committed to finding him... [Please insert a dramatic movie musical theme of your choice here.]
I’m committed. I’m very committed.
JOB: I have been with the same company for nearly 6 years. I’m committed to do my job the best way I know how and to explore new opportunities to grow myself and my career within the company.
APARTMENT: I probably shouldn’t mention this one, but I have been in the same apartment for 9+ years. I know, you probably feel I should be building equity by purchasing a house or condo, right? Well, home ownership has not been within my financial means or personal comfort zone in the past, and so, I have chosen to invest in other ways and have enjoyed the benefits of a nearly-fixed rent rate. (And when I say nearly-fixed, I mean that my rent went down a few years ago, and it is just now back up to where it was when I signed my first lease. That is a nice perk!) I’m currently saving to buy a house/condo, and I’m committed to pursuing that dream.
CAR: My car and I have been together for nearly 9 and a half years. Madison (aka “Maddy”) is an amazing, spirited, midnight plum Honda Civic. She and I have shared a journey of almost 125,000 miles, and I hope we have many more roads to travel together.
FRIENDSHIPS: I have maintained many friendships that began when I was a child, and I love keeping connections going. It's important to me to continue making contact with other people. I love building on old friendships as well as exploring new ones, and once you are my friend, it's hard to get rid of me. Hee hee!
No, I don’t think loyalty and faithfulness are areas I struggle with in my personal or professional life. I'm committed, and I’m quite capable of more commitment. I just haven’t found a suitable match of my own to commit to yet, and if he’s out there, if he actually exists on planet earth, I’m committed to finding him... [Please insert a dramatic movie musical theme of your choice here.]
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