importantly, you'll miss out on the experience of learning from your mistakes. Isn't that how we grow into something better, by failing? I think so. As long as we don't give up. Let's pick up our proverbial brushes and keep painting! We're never finished.
I woke up this morning, sat with my little dog and a cup of coffee and logged on to my website to try blogging. And guess what. Yup, those little white boxes are still missing. After a brief groggy grumble, I decided to improvise. I scrolled through my host's options for themed backgrounds and tried on a few. I could settle on a couple, but still wasn't super happy about them. Then I remembered Picmonkey, a crazy awesome photo editing website...
I went to Picmonkey and got to work, creating the background you see now (unless you're reading this in the future and I've decided to change it again). But at present day 9/19/16, you see old school lined paper with some scribbly bits at the top. I really like it! In fact, I feel like it suits me and my blog better than what my host has to offer, and prefer seeing the whole background to the containment of the white boxes I grew accustomed to. ...Well, there's a freaking metaphor if I've ever read one!
We grow accustomed to our little boxes that we're put in, don't we? We get comfortable in our walls (littereally and figuratively). Think about it. I opted to NOT blog last week because my boxes were gone. My morning started out grumbly because I didn't have the safety of my boxes. I had the free will and choice to gruble that nothing could be done, my website is unreadable, and avoid blogging again. Or, I could choose to look outside of the box, to improvise. I was forced to think creatively about my situation, looked outside of the boxes, and found something much better! So, if something so minuscule and no-big-deal-y as my blog can show me that I've manifested limits because of a preconceived "box" I've put myself in, then what ELSE am I not open to thinking more creatively/freely/unjudgementally about? I believe we all do this, with EVERYTHING in life. Do you? What are some boxes you think you/we could open our minds to?
The Pinterest logo is like the rising sun to me. It signifies the light that shines on endless possibilities, as well as a star that can blind me if I stare at it too long. Though I do have a love/hate relationship with this online scrapbook of sorts, I fall heavy to the love side. Whenever I feel like I just can't conjure up the spark to ignite my creativity, I look to Pinterest.
I'm always shocked, and a little saddened, when people claim ignorance of Pinterest. As we near the year 2017, in a world littered with things like Twitter, Vine, Snapchat, and the like, I'm baffled that a person doesn't know what Pinterest is. My own mother scoffs in disgust at the mere word. "Pintersted, yuck, I don't do that." Really? Do you even know Pinterest is??? My guess is, no.
Wondering how to use that giant zucchini from the garden?
Want to paint a faux finish on your counter top, but don't know how?
Want tips on how to reorganize your home?
Wondering where to take that next vacation?
You have questions, Pinterest has answers. And what's better, Pinterest will help you to save the inspiration/recipe/tips/etc. in an organized way, where YOU create your own categories. And it's all neatly tucked away in the internet. What's not to love?
Why do I hate it? I'd like to revoke my original claim. I don't hate Pinterest. I hate my lack of self dicipline. It's like being alone with a bag of Doritos. I can't be trusted to just grab a few and go on with my life. I'll eat the whole damn bag if there isn't someone there to watch my shame. The same rings true with Pinterest. It's a rabbit hole, and will suck you through an endless whirl if you're not careful. ...at least it's gluten free.
I'll also admit, I'm a Pinterest hoarder. I'm not certain if this is an actual clinical diagnosis, but if it isn't, it should be. I have literally (I just checked) 4,640 Pins, in 84 different boards. These are exercises, recipes, outfits, tattoos, art, ukulele stuff, craft projects, DIY shit, dog stuff, and on and on and on. I'm a rabid pinner. If I see something and somewhere inside me goes, "Ooo!" I hit my Pin button.
Generally, I think the idea is that after Pinning something the Pinner would then utilize this information by fulfilling the origial purpose of the Pin. For exapmple, you need a brownie recipe, you find it, you Pin it, you then the bake brownies from the Pinned recipe. When you want to bake those brownies again, go back to your account and repeat. I, however, pretty much just collect Pins. I spend countless hours Pinning, when I should be cashing in that time by USING them. But I don't. There are hair cuts I will never get, outfits I will never buy, collages I will never decopage. So why do I Pin them?
I think it's the possiblity I love. It's a collection of pretty things that I get to revisit by the touch of a button. It's inspriation for things that I am doing. Or, maybe, it's just another way to distract myself from actually organizing my house...
So, dear reader, if you're not versed in Pinterest, I would encourage you to go take a peek. But be careful. Pin responsibly.
was born without arms and makes these dolls with her feet.
This morning, when I was replying to yesterday's blog post (about the power of touch and using one's hands), I remembered Sabine, who didn't really have hands. So then my next question is this: Do we need hands to "touch?" I say no. And I think Sabine would agree.
I would encourage you to learn more about Sabine, if for any reason, for a little extra push when you're feeling like you "can't." She makes me feel like there really are no limits. Thanks, Sabine.
Here are two links to find out more about her [HERE'S ONE] and [HERE'S TWO]
If you don't know already, by day job is massage therapy. It's a job that I completely love, and feel crazy fortunate that I get paid to do. I think it's really important work, not just because I work to rehabilitate injuries or lower stress chemicals like cortisol, but because I get to touch people.
Touching is vital to our health. I strongly encourage you read this short article (or watch the 8 minute video). It quickly explains a little bit of research and science behind the benefits of touch. If you're a pioneer, I'd encourage you to do your own Google search on these benefits. They'll blow your mind. But in short, touch can lower your stress, deepen bonds between people, stimulate your brain, etc. It's amazing, and I get to do that for a living. Pretty rad. Of course, it's the intention that goes into touch that really matters. Touch can also do harm, so be careful with your powers, dear reader. I assure you, you're quite powerful, with your words, and your touch. Keep that in mind.
Anyway, this morning while I was getting the office ready I was thinking about touch, and art, or anything that is hand crafted for that matter. To create something with one's hands, is to touch it directly, be it a meal made from whole ingredients (not just junk in a box that gets nuked), a knitted hat, a sewn quilt, a painting, or a cabinet, etc. These are products of touch, a transference of human energy. And I think that's powerful and a little magical.
That said, is it possible that we can reap the benefits of having handcrafted items in our lives? Is it possible that if hand made goods are an extension of someone else's touch, that we are then indirectly touched by the creator? Hmmm... I like this thought. What are YOUR two cents on this topic?
talking about being physically able. Every morning, without fail, my body crawls out of bed and goes about it's day. Maybe there'll be some aches and pains, but I can still get myself out of bed. Each moment is filled with another breath and another heart beat. I. Am. Able. And that's huge.
I'm also reminded to cherish the things that I need to do. You know, like work, pay bills, do the laundry, exercise, get my teeth cleaned, etc. I have a job, I have the things which warrant the bills, I have clothes, I have an able body, I have teeth. There are many people who don't have these things, or didn't even get the chance.
Twenty-nine years ago today, my little sister, Christina, died from cancer. She was three. In her three years she was poked, prodded and pumped full of chemo. You know what else she did? She lived. She played, and danced, and sang, and wore fancy dresses. She demanded everything be purple. She, with a chest catheter and a bald head, lived, for three solid years.
I'm not trying to make anyone sad with this blog. I'm not trying to guilt anyone into loving paying their bills either. Honestly. I'm not. I am, however, reminding you that if you're reading this, you are able in so many ways that others are not. I'm just reminding you, that's all. I need reminding, too. Today is my day that I'm reminded. Today is my gift, and I'm sharing that with you.
I hope you're all well, at peace and can find something to love today. Have a great weekend (I'm taking it off, even Monday!) xo