everything and nothing

For those of you who still read blog posts. For those who don't live in a fairy tale. For the ones who don't judge other mothers (or try hard not to). For those who love me anyway. For those who may be struggling themselves.

I was going to start this post with the age old "mothering is hard", but really it's not about mothering at all. This is about life. Real and raw and rounded out - mothering is just one part of that. That might be shocking enough for some people. To know that "mother", although a role I hold sacred, is not who I am. And if I were to be honest, some days I want something more to look forward to than housework and homemaking. I long for adventure. Today was one of those days. What I didn't want was to face the sink full of dirty dishes. I didn't want to be grown up and responsible and, well, required. Required to be here and do this and clean that, and do it all again tomorrow.

This is also not about gratitude - for there is a difference between that and happiness. Feeling sad or discouraged is not sinful. It does not mean that you are ungrateful for or have left unnoticed the things heaven sent. I can generate a lenghty list of the blessings in my life that split my heart wide open and make me weep with thanksgiving. Being grateful and being happy are not the same thing. And discouragement can strike even the most stalwart. How we feel is not always a choice, but it is ours to decide what to do about it!

I believe I am a daughter if God. I believe He created me in love and sent me here with high hopes. I believe that I have a purpose and a mission while alive on this earth. I believe that I have been abundantly blessed. I believe that part of my journey will have me writing about real things, real feelings, and real life. And real life, although beautiful, is also imperfect and hard. I believe that I was meant to write. I believe that both hope and healing can be found when I do, not only for myself but for others as well.

You see, how we feel has very little to do with the outcome of our lives, or rather it can be everything or nothing at all. These things called "feelings" can take hold of the rudder and steer up places we never intended on going, or we can hold fast and decide that no matter which way the winds blow (or our feelings compel us) we will press on in the direction of our dreams. The shocking thing that we will discover at the end of our journey is that whichever course we took we never really let go of that wheel. For better or worse the choice was ours all along. I can blame my situation on the feelings I face, even though they are present and powerful, or I can decide that even though I feel tossed to and fro and a little bit lost, I still steer the ship! We each will have moments when we feel as though we'll be lost to the raging storm and other times we drift with no sunshine on skin, nor wind in our sails. Sometimes these moments are hardest. In the midst of chaos my heart turns quickly to the Lord. But it's different in the lulls. It is quieter there and more room is left for fear and doubt and discouragement to creep in. It is then that He reminds us, if we listen and if we'll trust Him that He is right beside us and this is simply a chance for us to make our own wind! The going may be slower than those moments of smooth sailing, but we will be made stronger. Failure does not lie in the feeling; success lies in the choice we make to keep getting up, keep making dinner, keep washing those dishes and folding that laundry and kissing sweet cheeks and holding soft, sticky hands and CHOOSING to do what you don't feel like doing. In the very act of doing what we don't want to do, simply because it is the right thing to do, we gain momentum. We change the feelings from the outside in, until we are no longer just going through the motions. Until we find our adventure, looking a little different than we thought it would. Looking a lot less glamorous and a little more like life.

I can be grateful, not always for the feelings, but for the fact that, in spite of, I can get up out of bed, put one foot in front of the other, and keep on living. Because to live, simply to wake each day, good or bad, happy or sad, sour attitude or sweet disposition, all of it, the whole crazy thing, in the words of Peter Pan, is an awfully big adventure.

"Nothing is impossible. The word itself says, "I'm possible"! ~Audrey Hepburn

A few times a week at least, I remind one or another of my children, when they say, "I can't . . . ", that anything is possible. When they argue the point - for example, "man cannot fly, mom!" - I hop onto the internet and show them a video of "Jet Man" on TED Talks. "Still, he cannot fly by himself, mom", they say. "Yes, that is true," I respond, "But the point wasn't that he could do it by himself, the point is that he can do it!

And such is life - we cannot do anything by ourselves. If you believe in a God, which we do, without a doubt, and you understand His nature, you understand that He has given us the air we breath, the strength to carry on, and the means wherewith to do whatever we can imagine. The point never was whether we could do something incredible by ourselves, the point is that we can do incredible things, with whatever help is necessary.

My daughter has taken quite an interest to pinterest. I have two very conflicting feelings about this. But that is not what this post is about . . . . On the plus side she finds these incredible quotes. She never fails to run and find me to share them with me (such as, most recently, the title of this post). Why? She feels something when she reads them. Likewise, I feel a strong desire to share things with others that have impacted my mind or my heart. Also, she knows that I will appreciate them, every bit as much as she does. Why? Because I have taught her what I value . . .

I believe in happily ever afters. I believe in fairy book endings. I believe we can accomplish anything we set our minds to. I believe we have little understanding of our potential. I believe in the goodness of humanity. I believe in a power above my own. I believe in a Maker with a plan. I believe that war can cease to exsist. I believe that no one need go hungry. I believe that suffering can be comforted and the helpless can become hopeful. I believe that we are what we think we are, and we can become whatever we dream we can. I believe in impossible missions and unlimited purpose. I believe we are our brothers keepers. I believe that we are instruments in the hands of God.

And even though most days I feel my words fly like pollen blown too hard over tiny flowers, passing right by my intended target, they are getting through. Those tiny, sunshine-colored molecules of hope are fulfilling their intended purpose - to fertilize young minds in preparation for greatness. That is what I believe lies in my children - in all children - greatness - the capability to change the world. Not in some abstract way, but real one-person-can-change-the-world change. And even if they choose never to believe me, never to open their hearts and their minds to this idealistic vision I carry, they will, with certainty know, that they had a mother who believed in impossible dreams. That alone may be enough.

a turning

Life is hard. Challenges come, and go...... but then come right back again clothed in different colors. When  life seems as bleak as the late November sky, heart knocks against chest and I wonder.....

As seasons have come and gone, prayers have changed from those of relief to that of acceptance. In the acceptance of what is offered there is hope. I pray for the best, hope for the best, but embrace whatever comes. There is something in those dark days for us to learn.

This becomes obvious to me as my little man sits filled with sadness curled up in a corner. Life is this moment for him. He does not see past the present. This is all that exsists in his world right now. This shortness of sight, what we cannot see is that this, all of it, is part of our path. It is not the beginning, nor is it the end. It is not a detour, as we attempt to get back on the right road. This is our road, all of it making up the miles we travel.

The path closes in around us. It is dense and thick, but what we cannot see is that just around the corner, the trees begin to thin and the sky opens up. Here - we have made it and now can see past the stumbling blocks that once stood in our way, out across wide sky.

How did I not see it before. Maybe I was not ready. Lessons needed learning so that once I got to the top they would no longer be the focus of my attention. I view again those things I thought were holding me back, those stumbling blocks which tripped me up and brought me to my knees. And I am grateful - for all the ugly, which when wound together with skillful hands with all the beautiful become just that - beautiful - through eyes of the heart. The view never changed. It was I who could not see what was waiting for me at the top. Of each new mountain I am asked to climb, I have the hope of a vista bathed in grace awaiting me at the end.

Children grow and I begin to understand. I have an immeasurable role here as mother. It is to love, most of all, and to teach, and train, and never give up on sweet souls. But it is not to change hearts. That role has been filled, long before, by hands much more capable than mine. How often do I try and fix it all? How much more often should I turn troubled children back to the Lord. My heart hurts for the aches of these little people, these pieces of my very soul. I want to sweep them up in my arms, and kick all trial out the back door. I try to fit pieces back together. In frustration, when I cannot seem to find the answers, my heart is hushed and I am told that they are old enough now. Never stop praying for their sake, but don't pray for answers that belong to them to find. What could be more important? Of all the things I teach, from nouns to fractions, this is the most valuable lesson of all. Teach them to come to Him. Teach them to listen. Teach them that only He can fix broken hearts and just how much He wants to do so. Teach them that they have endless potential, and through the grace of only Him, it can be reached. Trials cement character deep in young foundation.

A weight lifts from sagging shoulders. Turn them back to Him. He knows the way when one mom cannot see past crumbs and chaos. These are the wings we are to give our fledglings which will enable them to soar. On the updraft of one who will never tire or lead astray, at moments when one mom's flesh is weak, He will lead them on.

measuring up

I half listened to children and husband today as they talked at me, a caged bird wandering around in the dark recesses of her own mind. I wanted to lock myself away. I wanted peace and quiet. I moved furniture around the house as if somehow that external shift would shift the inner workings of self, only to add to the confusion. Nothing felt right. Where did this all begin? 

"She is slow, awkward. She doesn't participate. She doesn't fit in. She can't keep up." I was dumb. Those words, like searing summer sun to the tender, parched sprout of my 4 year old self, spoken by a person most adore - the Kindergarten teacher. Those words, or more so the lack of believing, the limited vision of one who should have been a blessing, turned harshest critic, formed my basic belief, the foundation someone else poured for me, upon which I built my house of straw. They became the tape that would play time and again in my mind. That was my introduction to life outside the home and the beginning of my educational experience. Over the years I would become conversant with soul aches such as this.

Those old wounds fester. They have never fully healed. Those scars are my place of default. They are where my mind retreats. No matter how much good I do, it will never be enough, and so I run faster, I push harder. I am abundant with weakness. And I hate it.

We don't talk about this, my parents and I. Among many other memories on that long list of unmentionables it is not brought up often, and when it is, I shrug it away as if no big deal. I don't go there. It is too painful. I try to preserve my heart as well as my parent's. I know that unrelenting ache when one of my children hurts. So it goes down, for my sake and theirs. Down into that deep cellar, where all pain gets stored, buried under these 30 years of experiences. Hidden away for none to see, especially me. Maybe if I forget it is there, it will be as if it actually never happened. I will heap more and more on top of those dusty boxes. I hide them away. I reject the pain. It sears hot.

My dad asked me not long ago if I chose to homeschool because of........

That is as far as he had to get. I knew where he was headed. I know that path well. I walk it day by day. 

The question.... Do I home school, at least partially, because of my experiences in the public school system? 
The answer.... YES. 

The scab is ripped off, and I am left to feel things I buried long ago. Did I really think one could escape such pain? These words that formed my basic beliefs, did I actually think I could outrun them? The fear lies not in the words alone, but the worry, what if they were right about me?

The tape plays - Thirteen. She walks into the girls bathroom and discovers her name among foul words written for all to see in thick black. She is cast aside by those she called friend, mocked and discarded. She wanders halls amid whispers and cold shoulders. She fears today might just be the day those threats leave her bloody and bruised. Teacher, after teacher, after teacher sees only broken, unusable bits of what is left from what was once girl. She packs more and more boxes and pushes them down and locks the door. But when it all becomes too much, she wishes she could just cease to be.

Like dead fish floating to the top, always floating back to the top, I curse those memories. I will them away. I do not see them for what they are, mere words. It was I who gave them power, each time I buried them, each time I pushed them down, I told myself that they were true, over and over. I can see now that their continuous reappearance is actually a gift. They will not go until I set them free, and I cannot set them free until I acknowledge that they are there, real and raw. I cannot move forward, not really, until those fears have been looked at in the face and that little girl is allowed to weep for what was lost and baggage that was carried for too long by shoulders too small to bear such burdens for so many years.

He, knowing the weight of such things, presents me with this 'gift' over and over. And over and over I push it away. I am not ready. Its repulsive appearance offends. I do not want it. Take it back. Take it right away.

I am learning, very slowly, that He does not offer bad gifts.

A heart that yearns to hold loved ones close and allow them in, cannot, because she is juggling too many boxes, taped up tight. She must not risk discovery. She will not be hurt again. And so she fakes competence. She pretends she is strong. She works hard to disprove that demon which holds her bound to a lonely existence, where no one is really friend, most especially herself. She blogs. And she feels like a fraud. She has so far to go. Do they know that her words are not sermons to the masses, but sacred prayers of self-discovery to that one heart that aches to be healed, her own?

Where do I fit in?

I read this and the flood gates are thrown open wide with realization:

"If the word 'inspiration' is to have any meaning, it must mean that the writer is writing something that he does not wholly understand." T. S. Elliot

I write. I find healing and hope in the words that these fingers type. Like the pearls strung on a silken strand, I string words. I do not always know what I am going to type when I sit here. But the words always come. He is trying to teach me. He is trying to heal me. He is giving me the tools I need. Could it be that we can write words come from Him that we don't even fully understand, yet understanding comes as our fingers type? These words wrap as bandages.

This is the gift I reject. Healing. I must acknowledge, accept. I must, so that I can ask Him to heal those old wounds. Wounds leave scars, like the scars on His hands. They remind us of those fiery furnace moments, the ones too valuable to forget. How could I have not seen it sooner? These are the stepping stones that will bring me father along the path, deeper into understanding, closer to Him. I prefer to imagine my path much prettier that it actually is. I omit those things I will away. Yet, those are the very things that have brought me here, to this place. I cannot forget, or I forget the help, the hope, the healing. I forget His hand in all things. I harden heart where flesh should be made soft.

I have, for so many years been trying to climb these prison walls of self doubt, seeded in a young, tender heart. They took root, and never weeded out, have dug deep in soft flesh. I did not realize that instead of burying memories I was burying myself alive, box by box.

The straw house built upon faulty foundation must be brought down in order for it to be built up again according to the master architect's design. Brick by brick, on firm foundation, laid gently in soft mortar. Time will set that mortar until it becomes a part of me. I must trust. These are the trials He knew I would face, and for a greater purpose in Him I have been asked to endure. I cannot live life in-between exiled memories.

He has felt my pain. He knows my losses. And I ache for that. But there is hope. And I wait for inspiration. It will come, it always does. I need to be willing and honest and listen. I need to open those hidden closets and let Him in, even there, into that dark, ugly place. And I will be made whole, better than whole, I will be made, from those thousand broken pieces, into a window of beautiful stained glass, for He knows what to do with shards. And He will fit me in. I will fit in. I do fit in, into the hands of my wee ones, clinging to me, as I cling to them. I fit into the heart of my husband as he loves without limits. I fit into this house that I keep for the care of my family. I fit into this skin that is wrinkling with wear. And I fit into the hollow of His hands. This suffering, did it bring me even here? I am filled to over-flowing. The mortar of one more brick sets.

light

I found her the other day. 

Her name is Ann Voskamp. I read her writing. I am one of thousands who will. 

She calls me back to Him.

I have made this new schedule for school, and things have been going really well. I have felt so pleased with myself. Aren't I clever!? Things go well, so long as things go according to "the schedule". Otherwise, I begin to feel lost. I begin to feel behind. I begin to lose the joy. Then I look up, through the window and God gently whispers through the sunshine in the leaves of my favorite tree, "You are missing it. You are missing the point." 

There is a place for schedules, order is good, even commanded. But there is more. The more that is missed in the activity of the making and keeping of schedules. The more that goes unnoticed as I plan my life, this life, this gift from Him. There is so much more than I could ever plan. I go through days wishing for more. I have everything, how could I want for more? I want to use this life to make a difference. Don't most people? But, truly, I feel it in my very core, I was sent here to do something that only I, Shelli, can do. How will I ever find out what that is? Why am I here? I know why in the grand scheme of things. I know some of my purposes and I do not dismiss then as small or insignificant, but still, there is something wanting. 

Could it be that He is trying to show me? Could it be that I am just to busy to see? Through the schedules and all the activities, all the things that must be done in order to simply keep order, the sunlight dances through the leaves and He tells me that He is there. He is there in the sunlight. He is there in the words of others. He is there just when I need Him most, He will never abandon. He steps in like that sunlight through those leaves. He does not blow me over as would a storm. He will not burst through my door. He will dance through the cracks of my life, the soft spots of my heart, and if I will notice Him, He will bless me with that which He has been trying to bestow. Whenever I feel lost or lonely, He is never far behind. He comes in the shape of a friend, sometimes new, sometimes well known. He is there is their goodness, in the faith, and in their hopes for me and my success, if I will take notice of every good thing that He is, and is in. 

Slow down, is His message. Notice all that I have given you. Be grateful for the moments, of trial and tribute.

There is so much to do, there is no time to be. 

And then I remember another commandment, Be still.....

Opening your heart, your hands, and your home to all he has to offer, and in return, offer up thanks - that is Ann's message. This is a gift to ourselves - the place we will find peace. If we could change the means, how would that change the end? If we could pick a different path, one with a few less bumps, then would everything be different? And the truth is that yes, it would. But would it be better? Sometimes, for those of us who have gone through a trail on the list of unimaginables, we could tend to think so. But we cannot see the big picture. How could we ever orchestrate our lives from down in the audience? How could we ever tell if what we had in mind would have been better in the long run? Why do I have to go through these trials, we can ask ourselves. The answer is simple, though not always understandable. Because He is in charge, because this life is a time to be tested. Because He knows better, and thankfully so. He can see what we cannot. Through whatever He has to offer can we be grateful? Through the ugly and sad, not only the good? There is so much to be learned. That is where he would have us grow, but NOT where he would have us stay. 

He is here, in the kitchen, as children squabble, and I am weary. This is a chance for me to practice patience and long-suffering. It provides those much needed opportunities for me to teach, as would the master, those life lessons we (myself and my children), for some reason, need repeated over and over, until the natural man gives way to the light of Christ, and we become closer to that being God created, after the image of Himself. 

Open your eyes. This is what the sunlight tells me this morning. Open your eyes to all around you. Find the goodness in the ugly. Give thanks for all. Here is where you will be led to your greater purpose. How did I ever expect to find it in my schedules? It is not there. It is in everyday. I, alone, can do something everyday that will make a lasting difference. Slow down....... and listen to the child who points out the simple wonder of the birds in the trees gathering up berries. Slow down....... and play a game with that child who is growing up faster than my heart would have him do. Slow down..... and see. Notice what is around you. Put down your list and let go of the schedule and follow my lead. Then, and only then, when I have learned these lessons of stillness, silence, acceptance, and thanksgiving, can I hope to be lead to those opportunities He will give me for greatness. There is a plan. But I will miss it if I don't follow an agenda greater than my own. And when my vision is blurred once again, with all the have-to's I will be grateful for His voice and His hand in the world around me, calling me back, as he did through his daughter Ann, to a better way of living, a life filled with gratitude, in all things.

Below are just a few of my favorite pieces of Ann's writing, which you can find on her blog.

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/10/when-youre-feeling-a-bit-lost-how-to-find-your-way-back-to-joy/

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/10/the-therapy-that-calms-the-heart/

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/07/how-to-make-any-relationship-better/

a collection of thoughts on perceptions

"May I speak, not to the slackers in the kingdom, but to those who carry their load and more; 

not to those lulled into false security, but to those buffeted by false insecurity, 

who, though labouring devotedly in the kingdom, have recurring feelings of falling forever short....

...the first thing to be said of this feeling of inadequacy is that it is normal." 

Elder Neal A. Maxwell

~ Soul Surfer. Seen it? I cannot watch that movie without shedding a tear. Bethany Hamilton is beyond words inspiring. And even more than that, so was her family. I watched this movie from two perspectives. First, through Bethany's eyes. Would I have the courage and strength to do what she did after facing what she faced? Secondly, would I have been able to help my child through a trail such as that?

~ I have been running 3-5 times a week for the past 3 weeks. I feel a sense of determination - I am going to run the half-marathon next year in Seattle. I am not an natural athlete. I am afraid. I have moments when I feel like I can do this. I can push myself. But then there are those moments when I am running, and I feel tired and I don't think I will ever be able to run for 21 kilometers. I would much rather speak in front of hundreds of people than run a half marathon. What if I can't finish? What if it rains? What if it is blistering hot? What if..? What if...? What if...? Some may ask, "Why are you doing it then?" It is exactly the fear that is the reason. Too often I let it take over my life. I am one of thousands of people who will run. This may not be a big deal to many people. But it means something to me. It means that I can something I never, ever thought I could do. What I need to remember is that I don't have to run 21 kilometers right now, nor do I need to worry about it. I just have to do the 5 or 7 or 10 that I am doing at that moment. I can do that.

~ The other day I lost my patience with a child of mine. Please don't misunderstand - this is not an anomaly, but I felt particularly sad about this episode. I immediately wanted to go back in time. I knew the right thing to do and it would have been so simple. I wanted a chance to do it. I could not go back, however. I was mad though, not at the child, but myself. I know better. I truly believe that there is no reason to ever lose my temper at my children. As much as this may be true it is, of course, not a realistic possibility. I am human. I will make mistakes. I will not always do everything, say everything, or be everything that these children need. All I can do is learn from these experiences, and take that knowledge on to the next opportunity, which would surely arise soon enough.  I must forgive myself, learn, and move forward. It is the forgiving I have a hard time with, and it is hard to move on without taking that first step of forgiving oneself.

~ I have been listening to an audio book about finding joy in our lives. The author makes this statement, "The devil was able to take things God meant for my good and turn them into torment." The moment I heard these words it all became clear. These tests and trails that I face are meant for good. Logically, I already knew this part of things. But instead of letting God work his miracles in and through me, to create his kind of vision with my life I let Satan take these experiences and turn them into torment with all the could haves, should haves, and not good enoughs. How often do I let my mind be turned to the negative? How often do I dwell on what I could have done differently? This is true in my parenting, my relationships with others, and even my running. 

You see it is not about the race, nor is it an issue of parenting. It is about what I believe about myself. When I listen to God and let him into my life, into the very center of my heart to do his work, I begin to believe in myself, and all that I can be through him. It is in the power to choose. I begin to see, contrary to what Satan would have me believe, I can do this. All of it. Step by step. Little by little. I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually I will reach that finish line. Like in life I need not worry about the miles I still have left ahead of me, I just need to take one step, one day at a time. 

"The adversary knows that if he can prevent us from recognizing our divine potential, he will have scored a major victory." 

Elder Baxter

This is my most favorite song to run to.

When it comes up on my play list it doesn't matter how tired I am, I feel like I can run further and faster. It makes me believe in myself. But it is more than just about me, even. It turns my mind to others. We all have struggles and dreams. We never know what another is going through, and maybe even more importantly we don't know what dreams and hopes their hearts hold. We each have the responsibility to help one another believe in and achieve those goals. We can do such damage with our cold shoulders. But, by simply seeing the best in others we can make a difference. We are, like it or not, our brothers keeper. 

"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop." 

Mother Teresa

It is not just a matter of self-confidence, but one of humility. Even if we have the confidence, maintaing a healthy sense of humility is so important. Realizing where every breath we take and every day we have comes from, will make us stronger, in so many ways.

Running a half-marathon is not an easy thing to do. It is going to take dedication, commitment, sacrifice, and sheer will power. I watched a good friend do it this year. It was truly inspiring.

Raising socially responsible, happy, hardworking, God-fearing citizens is no small feat. I feel the responsibility of this. I must do the best I can. This is my task.

Again, this is not about running or parenting. It is about getting inspired to do something hard, something that may scare you. It is about finding that confidence, and gaining that humility that God will help you in all things. It is about dreams and fears. We all have them. I will no longer let my fears stand in the way of my dreams and prevent me from becoming stronger than I am today. I will not listen to the critics, even, and most especially, if that critic is in my own mind. I will not let others drag me down. I will try my best to buoy others up. 

"We must remember that we did not come to this earth to gain our worth - we brought it with us." 

Ardeth Kapp

I hope for all who read this that you may follow that dream you hold secret. God believes in you. He will make weak things strong. He will propel us forward. We must believe in ourselves.

"I testify that no one of us is less treasured of God than another. I testify that He loves each of us - 

insecurities, anxieties, self-image and all. He doesn't measure our talents or our looks; 

He doesn't remember our professions or our possessions. 

He cheers on every runner, calling out that the race is against sin, not against each other."

Elder Jeffery R. Holland

in the shell of a turtle

Within 24 hours I heard about this video 2 times, from 2 different friends. Thank you Michelle and Katie. This is a message I think everyone should hear, introvert, like me, or not. So far, at least 40% of my children are introverts and as a parent of introverts I feel conflicted inside. One part of me wants to push them into the limelight more often than they would like. I want them speak up and find their voice among their louder peers. I want them to get a chance, to speak their minds, to share their greatness with others. The other part of me is filled with respect as I see them not needing to be the center of attention, they are happy inside themselves, self-confident and quiet. This is a hard balance though. In a world where the loudest child gets the chance, they are lost in a sea of the raised arms of the extroverts. This leaves little room for the introverts to take action. And as a parent I want to "help" them along. I can forget that they don't need this. This is not what they seek. I, of course, do it out of love and the desire for them to receive the same opportunities as their opposite peers, but this is not who they are. How can I, of all people, lose sight of that? I have for a long time struggled with others thinking something is wrong with me, not just me, but all who fall under this category. I love how this video empowers the introvert. There is a great need for both kinds of people in our world, and I hope to be able to be true to myself, and praise and encourage and nurture each of my children, introverts and extroverts alike. May we embrace what we are and allow others the respect of living true to themselves and the powers within.

automatics anonymous

I had the opportunity to spend the day in Victoria with Jen Smith at a 6 hour Chris Keating Better Photos Workshop. The very first thing he had us do was to turn our cameras to manual. I had never done this before. He then spent the day teaching us all about shutter speed, aperture, ISO, white balance, metering and much more. Chris is extremely entertaining and talented. He challenged us to not revert back to automatic, but to push through and learn how to create photos instead of simply taking them. I had such a fun time. I would go again the next time he comes to Victoria, to learn even more. So much of it was over my head, but as Chris said, "Don't call yourself an amateur, call yourself a hobbyist. And tell your critics to get off your back, your a hobbyist, not a pro." One of my favorite parts was when Chris pulled people out of the audience and created photographs, never using an on camera flash. Up until this point the flash was my best friend while inside. Now that I know how to actually use my camera I can take pictures inside without a flash, even at night....crazy!
I am so grateful that Jen decided to do this and that she didn't mind that I tagged along with her. And when she dropped me off only to find Darren gone somewhere with the children and the house locked up tight, she took me home to hers. I loved spending the day with her. She teaches me to not take life so seriously, but best of all, she just makes me laugh! 

a fair divided excellence

I have been wondering what to do above our bed, and have been trying different ideas, but nothing really seemed to work. I wanted it to look very relaxed and random. Then I saw this post from At Home. Jaimie has an amazing eye and an inspiring home decor blog. And she just so happens to be a fellow British Columbian - an Islander even! Maybe someday I will get the chance to met her. She has created the most beautiful vignette in her home (I love the pinwheels she made! I think they would be so great at a birthday party or a shower even!). So inspired by her I was able to take items I already had around the house to do my own version and fill this space with things that are sentimental to me. 

Being over the bed, I of course had to think practically. Everything is attached to the wall or to the window attached to the wall, so they won't be falling off in the middle of the night (or when our children go jumping on the bed!!)

When Darren and I were married our good friends Jeff and Toby gave us a card with this Shakespeare quote on it - it has been my very most favorite ever since.

Master Bath

Since the bedroom is pretty much done, we have started on the master bathroom. We are going to be spending as little money as possible and working with almost everything we already have. But if I could I would.........

{I tried really hard to source pictures this time and had no luck. Thank you to all for your inspiration.}

I started with this armoire which use to be in the school room. 

I am needing more book shelves in there instead and more storage in the bathroom. 

So out it went. I gave it a fresh coat of paint and some new knobs. I used the leftover paint from the master bedroom walls (free). 

It looks much fresher and brighter.

 {before}

{during}

 {after}

Inspirational Folders

I have been gathering pictures from the internet for a couple of year now. I try really hard to be careful about asking permission when using others photo's. Sometimes I do not have a source for the pictures I have collected, and as I always say, if I have used a photo that belongs to you and you would like it to be removed or if you would like me to source the photo and link it back to you, I will be more than happy to do so. But please know that I am so grateful for all of those who do share their idea's and photography with everyone. I love to look at them every so often when I have a couple of minutes to myself. They give me ideas as to what I would like to do in our home. Even if I don't do exactly what is pictured, they inspire me to do something. It helps when you re-decorate a room as well. I have, in the past, jumped in too fast without doing a little bit of research first, only to not really like what I ended up with. A inspiration file helps organize thoughts and ideas. You can also make a collage from with your collection and get an idea as to how it will all look when it comes together. Go get inspired!

{Thank you to all sources unknown}

How could I forget?

A BIG huge thank you to Ana White for the design plan for the bed we made. We love it! If you have never read her blog, go and read it. She will inspire you to pick up a tool and build!

Bedroom Dreaming

I cannot remember where I found these pictures. And as always, if these belong to you I thank you and I hope that I have not offended you in using them. They have inspired me. I am so excited to finally be creating a nice place to go to at the end of the day. 

I like the mirrors on either side of this bed. They have some round ones at Superstore right now in black or white. 

They would work really well.

I love the white dresser beside this bed. We have night stands on either side of the bed right now, 

but I think they will be dwarfed beside the new bed that Darren is going to make. 

Scale has to be considered when decorating a space. 

The letters! - I think it is the most lovely of sentiments to have your initials above your bed.

The walls - I cannot help it - the white is just so clean and fresh and happy looking.
How could you ever feel sad opening your eyes up to this.

This... I just love.

 I love the look of the pillows stretching right across the bed. Here...

and here.

A friend (you know who you are, Deb) once told me that she was advised to decorate her bedroom first. 

It can be the last place we do, as it is often the last place we showcase. Don't forget this space. 

You should love going into your room at night - even if no one else ever sees it - make it yours and love it!

Utter Cuteness

         {Restoration Hardware}

8 & 1/2 weeks!

That is all!
 I LOVE this holiday - cozy fires, warm drinks, blankets, white lights, green trees, and everything else that goes along with this celebration. I cannot help myself! I am one of those annoying  excited people that starts playing Christmas music in November and has the tree up on December 1st. So for those of you who can relate, here a are a few pictures for inspiration.
Sources - I don't have them. But if they are your pictures, I thank you for sharing. The credit goes to you!