tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53318555128577862052024-03-13T11:29:16.877-07:00Forget-Me-NotA personal journey of my life that I have chosen to share with the world.
An true autoethnography in the making.Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-40584971691022482292022-09-22T15:56:00.005-07:002022-09-25T11:30:09.918-07:00Slow Suicide <p>Flashback to 25 years ago: My mom, "<i>When you are sad, you need to think about all the people who are worse off than you. Count your blessings</i>."</p><p>What my <b>#autistic</b> brain heard: "<i>Stop complaining about your pain, it isn't as valid as everyone elses. They have it worse</i>."</p><p>Regardless of what my mom's intention was. Regardless of whether this was <b>#toxic</b> <b>#positivity</b>.</p><p>It changed the way I would view life's challenges for the rest of my life. She didn't say this once, she said this many times because that is what her mom told her too. <b>#generationaltrauma</b></p><p>But that isn't what this post is about. In a few days it will be the anniversary of the day my mom died. There is a student in my 12th grade speech class that was born on the day she died. It has been an entire person's lifetime since I heard her voice. As I reconsider my last 18 years, I realized that she had died before that time.</p><p>I am going to suggest a term and explain something I have been been considering for a while as I have been reflecting on my life and my mom's which were both full of <b>#trauma</b> and <b>#resilience</b></p><p>I believe my mom committed <b>#slowsuicide</b> </p><p><b>What is slow suicide?</b></p><p>It is when someone's altruistic nature provides them with the perfect excuse to never care for themselves. </p><p><b>What does it look like?</b></p><p>When a person doesn't seek medical care even when they don't feel well, because they prioritize caring for someone else. It's cancelling those yearly check ups and not priorizing their own personal health. It's never going in for routine bloodwork. It's never seeing the doctor because you already know there will be criticism and you feel fine. It's the little things that a person does, who has given up on actually living - when they are just going through their daily routine and ignoring the obvious signs that something is wrong.</p><p><b>Who does it effect?</b></p><p>People without support networks. Single parents. Those with disabilities. Those caring for people with disabilities. People who are at an economic disadvantage. And many more...</p><p><b>Look around...</b></p><p>I can guarantee if you look around, you know someone doing this. You know young woman, who takes care of her kids plugging away without asking for support. You know a young man, taking care of his ailing father and that is all he has time for: work and caretaking. You know a grandmother who is caring for her grandchild because some tragic event has left the child without parents. You know a cousin who is suffering from addiction, while the spouse tries to support the family on a single income and is holding in all the emotions of the world on their shoulders.</p><p>If we want to prevent <b>#suicide</b> we need to look deeper into the <b>#trauma</b> that causes it and identify the family, friends and colleagues who are suffering in silence. <b>#slowsuicide</b> is how one ends up with a terminal illness because they neglected to care for themselves regularly over time. When one burns the candle at both ends, there is no candle that remains.</p><p>I know that this post is leagues outside of my comfort zone when it comes to sharing, but I am hoping the <b>#vulnerability</b> that I share today helps save a life. And as Bréné Brown puts it, “<i>Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it's having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it's our greatest measure of courage</i>.”</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-89956753102476974352022-08-30T10:15:00.002-07:002022-08-30T10:15:31.390-07:00Thoughts on Trauma in Work Situations<p> I was relieved from my full-time position at the beginning of this month. I say relieved because the details don't really matter... the feeling does.</p><div><div>I am frustrated that I have no financial plan, but I feel better to not report to toxic leaders who don't know my full name or only want to be corporate bullies. </div><div><br /></div><div>The situation had become so toxic that it became untenable. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the middle of July, I cried on my couch sharing with a friend, that I didn't know how I could leave the role because I felt so much obligation. However, I knew burnout was right around the corner. I had been there for more than ten years. I didn't even know how to leave in a respectful way because of those I reported to.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ever since the RIF in January, I knew my days were numbered. It was painfully obvious that my direct leadership didn't respect or appreciate me. No one lasted more than a year in the role, there was no reason that I would be different. </div><div><br /></div><div>What has this situation taught me?</div><div>Well, I am once again evaluating what I feel is most important and who is supporting me during this traumatic experience. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm also selecting what I want to move forward with and it's not exactly the same as what I thought. I am considering switching industries ... but honestly right now, I am just trying to heal my soul.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-26114101641960677552022-01-25T05:49:00.002-08:002022-01-25T05:51:02.392-08:00Barely Hanging On<p>I haven't written in a while. It's hard because I am so overwhelmed all the time. I know that isn't really a valid excuse but it is the reason none-the-less.<br /><br />In 2000, when the yearbook people went around to the seniors and asked what we most worried about. I said, "A Plague". I really wish I hadn't predicted the future of 2020. </p><p>2020 was hard. </p><p>2021 was harder.</p><p>2022, I am barely hanging on.</p><p>I am tired of being the only supporter of my family. </p><p>I cry all the time. I feel like no one sees all that I do, or cares.</p><p>I can't continue with working 60 hours a week, then helping my children the entire weekend... only to complete it week over week, week over week.</p><p>I just want an end, I need it to end.</p><p>The song that has resonated the most lately... <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQwVKr8rCYw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQwVKr8rCYw</a> </p>Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-5710815380511540492019-06-16T01:21:00.001-07:002019-06-16T01:39:31.517-07:00The Complicated Process of Discovering Birth ParentsMy Aunt Jodie sent me an article with the headline "I did Ancestry.com DNA submission and now I need psychiatric therapy." It's funny because it's the truth. For as simple as finding my biological mother was... discovering my biological father was the exact opposite.<br />
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My biological mother told my siblings about me, when I found them it was like being reunited with the best lost things ever.<br />
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Now I cite, Newton's Third Law: "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."<br />
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Let's go back, to 1980. My father was 12. His mother, who has since passed on, told him that it was unlikely he could possibly father a child. He was too young. She signed the adoption papers on his behalf and they never spoke about it again.<br />
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There's a bit more to the story than just this, but only this is pertinent for today.<br />
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Fast forward to January 2019, I log into my ancestry.com account and see the name Jodie Brown (close match). I know the name because my biological mother Tammy told me my father's name and his sister's name.<br />
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I messaged her and say "I think I am your niece based on the similarity match." She replies, saying this is actually my father Tom Brown's DNA .... forgetting that my father's full name was Tom Brown Jr. I am confused. She proceeds to say I think your my father's niece. I didn't know that Tom Brown Sr was alive so after some short confusion and I bring up some of the facts my biological mother had shared, she seems pretty dumbfounded. Ultimately, it was "we never knew that it was his baby. My mom always thought he was too young."<br />
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Over several months Jodie and I got to know each other better. She shared my details with her dad and they both discussed how to tell my biological father Tom.<br />
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Tom is married with no additional children. Him and his wife are both school teachers in Florida. Considering that they had never had children and he had no idea about my existence I knew that this ancestry reunion would not be the same as my first.<br />
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I will say I found it really entertaining that both of my biological mother and father work in education. Sometimes genetics triumph over environment.<br />
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I still have not met or spoken to my father. There are obvious reasons why I have tried to take this slow. I don't want to upend his life, or upset his relationship with his wife. Most 12 year olds don't have their mistakes pop into their lives unannounced 37 years after the fact, so I try to keep that in mind.<br />
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I have made friendships with my Aunt Jodie, my Aunt Cherie and my Uncle Nate. Cherie and Nate are siblings from another mother, who lives in Girard. My Uncle Nate lives in Girard and we've been able to meet and hang out a bit. I am looking forward to meeting Jodie and Grandpa Tom in August when they come to Pennsylvania.<br />
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I am hopeful that someday I will get to meet Tom and his wife. So, Happy 1st Father's Day! From your 37 year old daughter. Hoping that I don't cause therapy for you or your wife.<br />
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Here's a fun comparison to how similar we look:<br />
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<br />Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-61319890620995301512019-06-10T01:21:00.003-07:002019-06-10T01:37:32.723-07:00You have a beautiful face."You are beautiful. Also, I really like your outfit," I said to the woman in front of me at the check out.<br />
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"Oh thank you!" she gushed, then she turned around and looked at me, top to bottom.</div>
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"You have a beautiful face," she said as she searched for a compliment to repay me in front of my 5 year old.</div>
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"And you are a gorgeous little girl," she gleamed as she turned to my 5 year old. "Make sure you keep busy and get in all that exercise."</div>
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My smile wavered and I turned away from her. She finished checking out and left. My daughter noticed that I was fighting back tears. </div>
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"Mommy, why did she say you have a pretty face? I think you are beautiful all over."</div>
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I stopped packing my groceries and hugged her deeply.</div>
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"Sometimes people don't know how to compliment correctly," I said. "What matters is that your compliment is genuine when you give one. It's about giving, not receiving."</div>
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We walked to the truck, I loaded my groceries and fought back some anger because I know that woman didn't know me or what I have been through, but it hurt nonetheless.</div>
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After I got in the truck, my daughter said, "Mommy why did that lady tell me to exercise?"</div>
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I sighed, "Well because she didn't want you to end up like me."</div>
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"Why wouldn't I want to be like you?" she replied.</div>
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"She meant <i>fat</i> like me."</div>
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"Oh," she frowned, "but there nothing wrong with you being squishy. I like that you're squishy. I don't want you to be dead."</div>
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"I am fine with being squishy too," I said with a chuckle, "I don't want to be dead either." </div>
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In my heart, I am not fine with being squishy. If I had a dollar for every time I was told I have a pretty <i>face</i> I would probably be a millionaire.</div>
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Why am I squishy? Well it's not because I have not tried everything humanly possible to not be squishy. The reason my daughter said I don't want you to be dead is because I almost died trying to be a thin version of myself.</div>
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It was 2010 and I weighed 400lbs. I was so depressed by my appearance I went to a gastric doctor who recommended that I get a lapband. A lapband is something that gets placed in your stomach to restrict the amount of food you can eat. I thought this seemed like the right thing to do.<br />
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"I have never really felt full." I said, explaining that part to my husband was weird but necessary. As I tried to sell him on the necessity of getting the surgery. "The doctor said the lapband pushes on a nerve, which tells your brain you are full." He reluctantly came around.<br />
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After I had the surgery, I thought for certain I would be able to lose the weight. I did, by 2014 I weighed 180lbs. I loved the way I looked and I enjoyed dancing hula even Taihitian. </div>
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However, I never felt full even with the lapband in place. Despite the doctor saying that would be what happened - it never did. The nerve the lapband was supposed to rest on, to signal to my brain I felt full - never did. Actually after the surgery, I always felt like I was starving. Often, I ate my meals grounded up with a blender to the consistency of paste just to try to get the feeling that I had eaten.<br />
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In 2015, I got pregnant with my third daughter and things took a turn for the worst. I couldn't even keep water down. I was constantly throwing up. We spent three months, in and out of the hospital, because the doctors were certain that I had hyperemesis and I would get over it. </div>
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I spent days hooked up to potassium, in tears because it was beyond painful to have it delivered to my body through an IV. I remember having a conversation with my maker begging for my life - so that I could take care of the two daughters I already had because I felt I was unfit to vessel the third.<br />
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My husband stayed by my side, he mentioned to every doctor we crossed paths with, that I had a lapband and struggled to keep food down normally. He tried to convey that he thought maybe something was wrong with it. One doctor listened, he ordered a scan and they discovered that the lapband had slipped and was obstructing my bowel.<br />
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I was fed up. This would be the fourth surgery, I would endure because of the lapband. The first was to place it, the second was to try to figure out why when they filled the port with the saline it wasn't filling. (They discovered that the surgeon accidentally sliced a tiny nick in the tube, so it was not filling at all.) The third surgery was to replace that tube. Now the fourth surgery (while I was 16 weeks pregnant) would remove it all.<br />
I would literally go back to square one after 5 years. I knew it would only be a matter of time and I would be fat again. I dreaded it. But I wanted to live, so it was removed.<br />
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Now, it's 2019. I have three daughters, amazingly enough I got through that pregnancy with my little firecracker. I currently weigh 360lbs. I am not happy with it, but most days it's bearable, unless I run into someone who gives a back handed compliment. I would certainly love to share with those people my story and the injustice that I have gone through trying to be thin. But I don't, instead I smile, hide the tears and relish in the fact that all three of my daughters, my husband and my cat love me squishy and just the way I am. </div>
Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-76247265626782951732018-12-29T21:59:00.003-08:002018-12-29T22:12:36.582-08:00The Grandmother My Daughters Will Never Know<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">Often I find my way through life through reflection. Reflecting can be amazing but it can be triggered by anything, like news article puts you into unyielding tears.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">"The double-edged nature of being a grandmother: Your thoughts turn powerfully toward the future — one that now includes the grandchildren you adore — at the very same moment you’re reminded of your own absence from that future. It’s an odd mixture of birth and death, which is what gives grandmotherhood its beauty, as well as its specific and poignant pain." <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/12/27/style/self-care/becoming-a-grandmother.html?smid=fb-nytimes&smtyp=cur" target="_blank">Link to article</a>.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">That's all it took. I am crying because even though my daughters have amazing living great-grandmothers and grandmothers, they would never know the person most responsible for me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">My adopted mother passed away from cancer almost 15 years ago. It feels like an entire lifetime ago, but yesterday at the same time. It hurts deep, the same deep hole I had felt not knowing my biological mother for 35 years. A piece of your heart is just gone. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">What weighs on my mind the most, are the things she would have lavished in and I mean, far more than birthdays and holidays. When my 11 year old pops off an attitudy remark at me... I imagine her in my mind laughing and saying "oh so much more to come my dear..."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">I know she would say "You have a well-rounded group of women there, you're in good hands." But the selfish me wonders, why can't she be here too? I </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px;">read articles about how important grandparents are and feel a bit cheated by it all... then feel guilty because she would say "You gained more people to love, how can you be sad?"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">Those are two feelings that I got out of losing my mom: a deepened understanding of love and the inability to shake the regret of some of the idealistic youthful arguments I may have once had. Okay, actually... I had a lot of those .... or maybe an excellent memory of the number of things I said as an ignorant entitled little child. I realize that my nightly avoiding of washing the dishes</span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px;"> was absolutely petulant of me. In those moments I wish for grace and forgiveness.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">I dream about the conversations she and I might have about my biological mother. Those hypothetical discussions can provide a good distraction from feeling sad about all the things she is missing from not meeting her granddaughters and all they are missing by not knowing her.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-79179865561559042082018-11-19T19:49:00.000-08:002018-11-19T19:57:21.524-08:00I'm a Trauma Survivor Tonight, I was mindlessly scrolling through Facebook and came across this and it stopped me in my tracks.<br />
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I don't know the source, only the person who shared it. But I read it over and over. "Trauma Survivor". One of my earliest memories was my adopted mother teaching me to be grateful for everything because "<i>other people have it much worse</i>."<br />
I realized this was something she learned from experience, not information she was taught through education or family history.<br />
I have survived a lot in my life yet, rarely do I blame the trauma.<br />
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<li>I've been cheated on in every serious relationship I have ever had, except for my husband. I'm guessing that is a big suppressed reason as to why I keep him around. 😉</li>
<li>I have been abandoned more than once, but I have forgiven everyone and pushed to rebuild the relationships </li>
<li>I've survived a head on collision in a major city, which still gives me nightmares. </li>
<li>I survived a tornado as a child and that still gives me nightmares. </li>
<li>I have survived assault and rape. </li>
<li>I have survived a physically abusive relationship and a narsacist. </li>
<li>I've survived emotional and verbal abuse. </li>
<li>I survived addiction. </li>
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And even after all that... <i>I still believe there are others who have it worse.</i><br />
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I am pretty grateful to be a Trauma Survivor. Next time you judge someone, take a minute to contemplate what makes them a survivor.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-59328252012286726012018-11-05T17:14:00.000-08:002018-11-05T17:18:50.094-08:0018 years, 18 years and 18 more<div class="mail-message expanded" id="m8618265817295696112" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
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"Good Things Come to Those Who Wait" ... Who ever said that was full of bullshit. Good things come to those that are determined to face whatever odds are in front of those things. </div>
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The past three years have seemed like a war in my head. I have resisted all the odds and projections of my mental illness but that has taken a toll on my wellness and I have both physically and mentally suffered. </div>
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I have fought a battle against having to become a caregiver, more than a spouse or a intimate partner.</div>
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I've watched my children go through a lot of emotional turbulence from moving from Phoenix back to our hometown because we lost just about everything except for ourselves. </div>
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I've spent countless hours evaluating and reevaluating the things I find important in my life. </div>
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I have become this Buddhist philosophy practicing former Catholic, while being surrounded by churchgoers asking me if I lost my belief in God? (The short answer is no, but I stopped anticipating him to be there for me, many years ago.) Do I pray? (Absolutely for others and myself.) Do I attend church? (No, because I don't believe the church connects people to a higher power anymore than I think my cat can solve the world's problems.)</div>
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My life is pretty much filled with skepticism and cynicism. I rarely rely on anyone else to do anything for me. I have learned that the hard way, unfortunately people will only be there for you if there is mutual gain involved in most situations. There are exceptions but there are also strings attached to everything.</div>
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I respect everyone, but trust no one. I learned that the hard way, repeatedly, because for a considerably long time I believed others felt (or thought) the same as I did. Naive I know, especially because I teach interpersonal communication and know the "ins" and "outs" of personal perception and internal perspectives. </div>
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I was once a dreamer, now I am a realist. I'm not sure if that was something I learned or evolved into after having three children. But my personal bar got lowered and that disappoints me more than I will ever admit.</div>
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I have always and forever will be an empath, but I am slowly learning to say 'no' to the takers. Do I still help without bias? In a moment's notice, but I step back and aside when it comes to receiving credit for things. Credit is overrated and where many believe God will favor them, I believe karma will favor to me.</div>
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I still get taken advantage of in every outlet of my life. It hurts deeply and angers me greatly, but I am able to walk away from the fight much better than I once was.</div>
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I cry, but I also boss up because I learned that unless you speak up about your morals and values, you will never grow as a person. Yet, I choose my battles... arguing over the clothes my daughter wants to wear to school is not worth the effort or agony.</div>
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All and all, I'd like to think I have evolved over the last 18 years much more than I did the initial 18 years, but there is still much work to be done. I pray that I face the next 18 years with more courage and class, because those qualities seem more rare and rare every day.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-77793569815051634752018-10-26T23:32:00.003-07:002018-10-26T23:37:25.308-07:00The Worst Night of My Life: To the Unknown Defilers I lay here in bed recalling the event, as if it occurred today. The night I was was a victim and desired prey. You should know I lost more than my innocence that night. I met you at a bar on State street, how naive I was when I agreed to meet. I remember clearly walking into the bar, then only moments until I woke up in my car.<br />
<br />
I do remember thinking how odd it was that your friend met us during our date. I wasn't even tipsy when I met you there that night, and I suppose it happened when I first left my seat for the restroom<br />
<br />
Shortly after, I remember feeling tired and weak in the knees. I remember your offer to help me to my car, even though I indicated it wasn't very far. I even remember you telling the bartender that your girlfriend wasn't feeling well, and you would safely take her home while your friend half carried me out the door, because I had nearly fallen to the floor.<br />
<br />
I remember your friend aggressively pushing me into the backseat of my vehicle.<br />
Then its mostly black. I felt pain in my soul that night. I woke up in the backseat in an abandoned parking lot, with no idea where I was or how I got there. And 2 hours late to work. Not knowing what happened other than my torn skirt.<br />
<br />
I drove to work and changed to my khaki pants and red top. I wish this was the end, but the agony didn't stop.<br />
<br />
I continued to lose track of minutes and time that night, not sure what I did other than try to finish my shift. I remember a kind older colleague see how broken I was and I am pretty sure he was the only one who cared. He made sure to wake me up after our hour lunch break, so I wouldn't get in trouble.<br />
<br />
By the end of my shift, the HR manager had arrived and I was swept into a meeting without a moment's notice. Where I had no excuses nor did I know what was going on, until it ended. I was terminated on the spot because of a minor HR violation. I misplaced my box cutter.<br />
<br />
As I cleaned out my locker, I found the box cutter and returned it to the HR manager, but it was already too late. That was what happened the night I was raped.<br />
<br />
I sometimes wake up in a panic to see your evil eyes, it turns my stomach to think I was some sort of prize. You and your buddy know who you are, I was not just some dumb girl you doped up at the bar.<br />
<br />
My mother had died only 3 months before which was why I avoided my home and worked swing shifts. My best friend wasn't talking to me because of decisions I continued to make with the fake confidence that I was unstoppable. I avoided my dad because it just meant more awkward conversation and not healing from the void my mother left.<br />
<br />
So that night, I was raped, terminated, and devalued while already feeling worthless and lost. That night, I was alone. That night is what I think of as the worst night of my life.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-88487283485251081212018-10-22T21:06:00.005-07:002018-10-22T21:06:49.094-07:00Why Does this Mean I'm Mediocre?<i>I recently read this <a href="https://nosidebar.com/mediocre-life/">blog</a>. I felt a little guilty that I didn't immediately resonate with the author, because I have always been a dreamer. I will admit I never thought I would change the world, but I had these ideas that I wanted to share. I wanted to share these visions with anyone who would listen.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I had a 5 year plan, another 5 year plan because I thought planning would help get me where I thought (at the time) I was to be.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>What I didn't plan for was <b>life experience</b> to change how I <b>valued</b> my time, life and work. However, I refuse to say my life is merely mediocre. I am still a dreamer. I have not given up my inspiration or idealism. What I did find was a deeper meaning and value in myself.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I found that I value my time more than what others did including employers. I have learned some amazing lessons over the years, a great deal of them I learned the hard way.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I learned that my time spent doing things like interacting with others about self-perception and their personal perspectives was rewarding to me intellectually and it brought great value to my life. I also learned that listening to my daughters play with legos at a small table next to my computer bureau was also just as valuable.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I guess I feel my life will always be more than mediocre because it is based on choices I have made and experiences I have survived. Maybe this is why I have come to the conclusions I have.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>My husband is not perfect, our relationship is a struggle but we still share some amazing moments with our children and our families whenever we can. As much as I hate the weather where we live, I am grateful that I have so many people around me that I love and treasure.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The more years I live, the more I find I appreciate the small things, just as much as the big things. Each night I go to bed, wishing for a better day tomorrow. Nothing about that is mediocre and that doesn't mean I don't appreciate what I have been blessed with or cursed with. I have overcome a lot of hardships and because of those experiences I am more grateful for pure moments of absolute bliss. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>There is nothing mediocre about living life as it occurs and being satisfied by the simple beauty of it all.</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-85921741760753883912016-05-05T09:44:00.001-07:002016-05-05T10:46:04.663-07:00Living With a Spouse Who is Living With a Disability<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S9OLNfXhf0Y/Vyt4Bav03yI/AAAAAAAAXjw/eUcv_PA0uAkLQUy7z_673j7UjrLWPZTOQCLcB/s1600/12509290_10100527615831100_3079712177168090253_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S9OLNfXhf0Y/Vyt4Bav03yI/AAAAAAAAXjw/eUcv_PA0uAkLQUy7z_673j7UjrLWPZTOQCLcB/s200/12509290_10100527615831100_3079712177168090253_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<w:wrap type="tight">
</w:wrap></v:imagedata></v:shape><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">This
picture illustrates how I like to remember my husband, when he had spirit and was
in decent health. Zach and I met in 2006, before he took his first decline. Once
Upon a Time… we went places on the weekends, we had energy to spare and figuratively,
the world was at our fingertips. My children have never known this person. My
oldest daughter (Nina, age 8), remembers, at the most, a year or two of who her
father was before the severe deterioration began. With the stresses she faces,
I don’t believe she remembers that time anymore. As a family, we have been
forced to explain the downward spiral of my husband’s health to my children.
They are so young, yet they have come to understand that every day we have with
their dad is blessed, no matter what activity or lack-thereof occurs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
have been by Zach’s side every day since we met. In 2007, the symptoms of his
illness started slowly with insomnia and sleep deprivation due to discomfort.
It directly affected his job to the point that he was almost always late (more
than once per week) due in part to sleep dread, anxiety, and pain. At the time,
we didn’t understand; this was just the onset of the illness. In 2007, his
primary doctor prescribed him Vicodin for his pain. Even with the medication
his work was adversely affected. No matter how much he tried to wake up before
his deadline, the fatigue caused by his condition interfered with his ability
to perform required tasks. Zach went on to work until February 2008, when he
was finally forced to resign his position under the threat of being terminated
over his late appearances. Within a few months, I was able to locate a job in a
climate more beneficial to his health, so we moved to Arizona in May 2008. At
this point in time, Zach was barely able to be a stay-at-home parent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">From
the start of my instructional design position at the University of Phoenix in
Arizona, I had to acknowledge to my work colleagues and boss that my husband
had a disability. At that time, it was essential because I would use my lunch
break to go home to care for him and our daughter Nina. We were very lucky that
our oldest daughter was obedient and independent. I would find him at least
once a week, with our daughter preoccupied, still stiff in bed after I had
completed an entire 8-hour work day. As his illness progressed, we noticed
other side effects such as headaches and iritis. Some side effects, in part,
were due to the multitude medications that he was prescribed. In 2009, the
headaches became worse and we had to ask our family for help. My husband’s
sister, Tessa Williams, came to stay with us for a month to help with watching
our daughter because the migraines became so bad that Zach couldn’t be left to
care for our daughter on his own. Since we had moved to a house farther away
from my job, I was unable to come home and check in as often as I wanted to. Thankfully
after some medication changes the migraines got better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
2010, Zach’s health took the most significant decline yet. This is when he
could no longer care for himself. At the time I had to request my schedule be
changed, so that I could take a 2-hour break midway through the day, to be able
to go home and help. I started to go in at 6am, drive 30 minutes home, just to
deliver his medicines to him. I had roughly an hour to help him take care of
our daughter and then drive back to work. Even though this extended my work day,
knowing that I delivered the medicine to my husband and had taken care of my
daughter’s brunch, I felt a little less anxious about the situation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
an effort to improve his quality of life, under the recommendation of his
physician, he took on an increased risk for cancer by trying several types of
injectable biologic medicines know as TNF inhibitors. Unfortunately, none of
the injectable biologic medicines improved his condition. He began infusion treatment
with remicade. When he began treatment with remicade, Zach received 3 starter
infusions over the first 6 weeks—the first at the start of treatment, another 2-weeks
later, and one more 4-weeks after that. After the first 3-treatments, he began
maintenance dosing, which means he received an infusion once every 6-weeks (as
recommended by his physician). Each infusion took 4-to-6 hours to administer
and affected Zach’s ability to drive, therefore I was required to drive him
both to-and-from the appointments. The remicade infusions helped Zach a lot
when he first began the treatment. The infusion helped by reducing the number
of days spent primarily in bed from approx. 15 to 10-12 out of 30 days on
average. Zach continued the remicade infusion for approximately 18 months. This
risky treatment only delayed the progression; it had no impact on daily pain or
fatigue levels caused by inflammation. His body rejected the treatment after
multiple attempts to reduce effects of the reaction. His doctor insisted that he discontinue the
infusions because the risk of systemic allergic reaction outweighed the
benefits of treatment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
December 2010, my supervisor left and I was assigned a new supervisor and he
did not approve of my departure in the afternoon for more than an hour. So as
we entered 2011, I had a great deal of anxiety over my husband’s health because
I knew that management was not going to support my needs to care for my husband
and daughter at a moment’s notice. I spent the next 2 years using all my
vacation time (60 hours annually) in half day increments because I had to either
go home to take my husband to his infusion appointments or to care for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
December 2012, my supervisor terminated me from my position at the University
of Phoenix because I no longer had enough vacation time to use to care for Zach.
In fact, several of the weeks leading up to being terminated, I had been forced
to use unpaid time off in order to care for him. After losing this job, I was
not able to regain full-time employment with benefits anywhere because of the
amount of time required to care for Zach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">By
2013 and on, I could only participate in employment if it was only a few hours
per day (teaching only one or two classes.) I was forced to take a position
teaching part-time as an adjunct at Mesa Community College located at Red
Mountain because it was only 6 miles from my house and in the event of an
emergency, I could cancel class and be at home within minutes. All my other
employment is online (work-from-home) contract based jobs. To support my
family, I teach for three online colleges (University of Phoenix-online, Brookline
College and Valley College.) I am required to complete “daily tasks”, but those
“daily tasks” are not associated with a specific time. This unique and tedious
schedule enables me to be present for Zach and our children’s needs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">At
this point in the progression of Zach’s illness, I had become the receptionist,
accountant, and immediate go-to-person for all of Zach’s health needs. This
includes, but was not limited to: managing Zach’s medicines - I delivered his
prescriptions to him twice per day at the necessary time. I renewed his prescriptions
which involved driving to pick up paper prescriptions from the doctor’s office
and multiple trips to the pharmacy. I
scheduled/transported him to all of his doctor appointments and necessary
treatments (infusions). I completely managed our family financial obligations
because any illness flare could interfere with paying a bill on time, so in
this sense, I cannot depend on Zach for critical thinking tasks. I also managed
our family health insurance, which was/is the Affordable Healthcare Act
Marketplace. We are lucky that we have health insurance from the Marketplace,
if it wasn’t for the Affordable Healthcare Act my husband would be considered
“uninsurable” and the out-of-pocket costs would have already bankrupted our
family. Managing my husband’s healthcare needs requires many hours of dedicated
time, almost every week.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In
the summer of 2014, my husband’s childhood friend, Paul Hrinda, came to live
with us to help out with Zach’s declining health and to watch my children in my
absence (even though it was only a few hours a day). Both Paul and I were able
to alternate our schedules to accommodate having someone at home to care for
Zach and the children 24/7. Even though
I was not able to return to full-time work, I was relieved to have someone at
my house during the day time hours to watch my children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">So,
after reading this – you are probably wondering does Zach ever have a good day?
Yes, he does. Typically, 1-to-4 days per month, my husband is able to push
through the pain. On these days (since they are so far and few between) my
children often overwhelm their dad because they long to play with him and do
fun activities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
wouldn’t wish this illness on even my worst enemy. In 2004, I lost my mom to
terminal cancer. I watched her deteriorate in less than 3 months. At the time,
I thought it was the most terrible way to die; To lose your life after battling
every day, for just one more day. Now, when I reflect on that event, I realize
my mom was lucky to live with a terminal illness for <i>only</i> three months. I have watched the person I love slowly
deteriorate into a broken mess of daily prescriptions just to be able to be
present a small portion of the day. I can’t shed this deep feeling that I can’t
help Zach, other than to deliver his morning medicine to him, so that he might
be physically able to get out of bed by at least the afternoon to spend time
with his children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">This
illness has become the dictator of our way of life. A lifestyle that involves
me and another adult caring for my husband’s needs to ensure his survival. This
is the sad truth of how we have lived for the past 3 years, moment-to-moment. Every
morning, I take Zach his medicine, so he is able to get up physically by the
afternoon. I teach one or two (on ground) classes and never leave my home for
more than 2 hours, so that I can care for Zach and my children. I struggle to
clean my house because it has been years since my husband was capable of doing
so. It has been years since he has been able to cook, go shopping for groceries
alone, drive any distance above 5 miles and even enjoy a hobby. All of these
activities he once was able to do, are now out of the question for him. Zach
can't go to the grocery store because he struggles with memory and
concentration, due to excruciating pain. Even to get a couple items from the
store, it is necessary for him to write them down entirely otherwise he forgets
why he went to the store. He struggles to care for his personal hygiene, often
only showering once a month. It is very difficult to maintain a conversation
with Zach because he loses his train of thought so easily. I do laundry and
fold it, because the bending and folding required is too much for him. If I let
him try to do these regular chores it leaves him nearly bedridden for days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qIyLpwwnYiw/Vyt4JZZGUiI/AAAAAAAAXj0/3bQWCy_sUlIN2OeqHDj6ixQwUyNHCKLNACLcB/s1600/13082616_10100588914048980_2016478310109882349_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qIyLpwwnYiw/Vyt4JZZGUiI/AAAAAAAAXj0/3bQWCy_sUlIN2OeqHDj6ixQwUyNHCKLNACLcB/s320/13082616_10100588914048980_2016478310109882349_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_2" o:spid="_x0000_s1026" style="height: 132.75pt; left: 0px; margin-left: 223.4pt; margin-top: 33.05pt; position: absolute; visibility: visible; width: 236.1pt; z-index: -251657216;" type="#_x0000_t75">
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<w:wrap anchorx="margin" type="tight">
</w:wrap></v:imagedata></v:shape><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I
wish for better days, but based on the progression of Zach’s illness, I know I
won’t see them. Each day, I pray and teach my children (pictured) to be
thankful that their dad is still here even though he is debilitated by
ankylosing spondylitis.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-73234088764078598962016-03-08T18:33:00.002-08:002016-03-08T18:33:42.347-08:00Transforming Your Life by Asking the Right Questions<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
Over the past few years, I've learned the value of asking the right questions. When students are preparing for my classroom presentations I often drill them with the appropriate questions so they come to the correct conclusions prior to presenting their information. Often these questions involve the transitions of ideas and how those ideas are presented to the audience. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
Sometimes what we ask is just as important as the answers we receive. So recently while I was searching for how to interpret some impeding events which could entirely change the way my family lives (and where we live). I came across an article about finding more meaning and connection in your life. Additionally, this article suggests you ask yourself one question a day for 100 days and at the end of the 100 days your life will feel happier and you will feel as though you have grown.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
<span style="font-size: 17.6px;">So today, I hope to help my friends, family and readers by sharing these very useful 100 questions. Challenge yourself by asking a question to your soul each day for the next 100.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
<span style="font-size: 17.6px;">1. Where is my heart guiding me?</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
2. What do I need to say that others have left unspoken?</div>
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3. Are there any skills or talents I'm not utilizing?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
4. What is my personal blind spot; what have I been unwilling to look at?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
5. Where have I been worrying too much about what others think?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #515151; font-family: adelle, Adelle, Georgia, Cambria, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 17.6px; line-height: 28px; margin-bottom: 2rem; margin-top: 2rem; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">
6. What new patterns and habits can I invite into my life?</div>
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7. Where have I been more focused on how I look, rather than how I feel?</div>
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8. What concerns am I willing to release?</div>
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9. What am I committed to changing?</div>
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10. What is my body craving?</div>
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11. What commitments to my self can I honor?</div>
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12. What new habit can I start?</div>
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13. How do I want to feel?</div>
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14. What signs have I been misinterpreting or ignoring?</div>
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15. What lessons am I learning right now?</div>
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16. Where can I surrender?</div>
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17. Where can I take responsibility for my outcome?</div>
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18. What challenges from my past can I celebrate overcoming?</div>
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19. Where can I ask for help, and who can I let in?</div>
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20. What expectations am I ready to release?</div>
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21. How is life asking me to grow right now?</div>
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22. How have I let fear dictate my actions?</div>
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23. What can I remove from my life?</div>
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24. What have I been avoiding out of fear?</div>
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25. Where can I show more of my true self?</div>
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26. What area of my life have I become disenchanted with, and what is that trying to tell me?</div>
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27. What has my intuition been trying to tell me?</div>
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28. Where do I feel broken? What steps will I take to release this internal pain?</div>
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29. What am I learning on the way to reaching my goal?</div>
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30. What did I love to do as a child that I can do today?</div>
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31. Where have I blocked myself from feeling?</div>
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32. Where have I been focusing too much on the outcome?</div>
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33. Where in my life do I feel forced to take action?</div>
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34. What current situation in my life have I been resisting?</div>
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35. In what ways can I appreciate myself more?</div>
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36. What flaw that I hide from others can I reveal?</div>
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37. What long-term success am I working to create?</div>
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38. What healthier habits can I start?</div>
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39. What can I do with my current limitations?</div>
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40. What dream have I ignored, but keeps coming back?</div>
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41. What situation in my life turned out to be a giant blessing in disguise?</div>
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42. Where have I been settling?</div>
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43. And what actions step can I take to raise my standards?</div>
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44. What is my fear trying to tell me?</div>
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45. In what ways can I be kinder to myself?</div>
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46. What have I given up on that still wants to be pursued?</div>
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47. Where have I been forcing myself to heal faster than what feels right?</div>
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48. How have I been cheating on my future by thinking thoughts of my past?</div>
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49. What "flaw" can I accept today?</div>
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50. Where have I been hesitating to take action?</div>
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51. What has the universe been asking me to release?</div>
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52. What past situation have I been romanticizing?</div>
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53. How has my past hurt my ability to move forward?</div>
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54 . What plan feels forced or like it no longer fits in my life? Can I let it go?</div>
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55. What emotion have I been hiding?</div>
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56. What are my instincts trying to tell me?</div>
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57. What does my ideal life look and feel like?</div>
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58. What area of my life can I take more of a leadership role in?</div>
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59. Where can I be more unapologetic about what brings me joy?</div>
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60. Where have I been playing it safe?</div>
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61. What action step can I take despite my insecurity or lack of confidence?</div>
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62. How am I standing in my own way?</div>
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63. What stories am I telling myself that are holding me back?</div>
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64. What do I feel most guilty about?</div>
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65. When do I feel most alive?</div>
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66. What have I denied myself that I really want?</div>
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67. <a href="http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-16615/the-5-most-important-people-to-forgive-before-the-end-of-the-year.html" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #00a9e0; line-height: inherit; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Who can I forgive</a>?</div>
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68. What relationship am I not feeling the way I want to feel in?</div>
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69. What am I avoiding right now in my life?</div>
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70. What have I stopped doing that I want to start again?</div>
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71. What do I need to say but have not voiced?</div>
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72. How do I measure my success?</div>
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73. What barriers do I create that keep me from what I want?</div>
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74. What in my life am I forcing?</div>
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75. What have I denied myself that I really want?</div>
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76. What insecurity can I love today?</div>
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77. Can I consider a more fun-loving approach?</div>
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78. What project can I give new life to?</div>
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79. What is the silver lining of my current situation?</div>
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80. What relationship can I remove myself from?</div>
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81. What patterns keep repeating in my life, and what can I learn from them?</div>
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82. What drama can I disengage with?</div>
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83. What miracle have I recently witnessed?</div>
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84. How can I be more honest with those who are close to me?</div>
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85. What dream have I been ignoring?</div>
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86. What recent situation do I blame myself for?</div>
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87. Where can I stop second-guessing my own judgment?</div>
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88. What desire do I need to revisit?</div>
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89. Where have I allowed "no" to stop me?</div>
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90. What act of kindness can I do right now?</div>
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91. What promise can I keep to myself?</div>
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92. Where can I be more courageous with my heart?</div>
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93. Where can I be more understanding?</div>
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94. Where has scarcity or lack-based thought prevented me from doing what I love?</div>
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95. When I listen to my heart, what does it say?</div>
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96. What payoff is no longer pleasing me?</div>
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97. What action step can I take today that my future self will hug me for?</div>
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98. What change can I make today?</div>
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99. What little act of kindness can I do today?</div>
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100. What new beginning am I being guided to?</div>
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Asking yourself key questions is powerful way to cultivate more self-awareness and happiness. I hope you find these questions as beneficial as I have.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-21777602224398335322016-03-03T09:34:00.002-08:002016-03-03T11:24:12.298-08:00As I Prepare for our Phoenix Departure<br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When we first moved to Phoenix... Zach and I told each other (and
our families), that it was the 5-year plan. However, life got in the
way...</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Much of the time we've spent here has been good. From the
students and colleagues that have fostered friendships and networking
opportunities with.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To the years, I've spent learning the beautiful dance
traditions of Hawaii and the sisterhood of ladies who have helped me become a
better version of myself.</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7KhK8cVsQB4/Vth0450z2iI/AAAAAAAAWMA/8ePZN6co4is/s1600/12573748_10100534140675260_3333368424372399145_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7KhK8cVsQB4/Vth0450z2iI/AAAAAAAAWMA/8ePZN6co4is/s320/12573748_10100534140675260_3333368424372399145_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"></span><span style="color: #222222;">The births of my two youngest daughters’ Zhenna and
Fiona. </span><span style="color: #222222;">The love my family has fostered for festival season in the beautiful
sunshine weather during the months of February through April. </span><span style="color: #222222;">To the friends I
have made through learning and practicing Buddhism.</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />There have also been disappointments and sad times. When I was
let go from my full-time job. The horrible car accident I was in 4 years ago.
The time I’ve spent in the hospital for all the gastric issues I have dealt
with.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />Any way I look at it, I have grown as a mother, as an educator, as a friend, but
most importantly as a </span><b style="color: #222222; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', serif;">person</b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">. However,
just as all good stories must come to an end, so must our time here.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />My husband has been waiting 4 years for a disability hearing and it has finally
been scheduled for May 2016. Whether that hearing finally puts our family back
on track, or whether it becomes a disappointment is truly out of our hands at this
point. Additionally, Nina will finish 3rd grade in May. So, all signs point to
packing up our home and renting out our house, as we return to Pennsylvania.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />We have missed our family and friends very deeply for a long
time, but it is truly a bittersweet time none-the-less. However, many of the
career opportunities we moved here for have been gone for some time.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />So it is with some solace, I pack our belongings and the
treasures we've acquired in the 8 years we've called Phoenix our home. I am
still looking forward to new adventures in my future. The application of the
lessons I've learned here, to where those lessons will lead us when we return
to our home will be a worthwhile venture.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />Thank you if you have been part of our Phoenix journey, we will
remember these years fondly. Also, thank you to our friends and family that
will be taking us back with open arms, as we start our next adventure.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-16520538123166700772016-02-22T08:52:00.001-08:002016-03-03T10:29:47.615-08:00Reflecting on Life and Accepting Change<div dir="ltr" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 16.256px;">
It is less than often that I find time alone to myself to be able to think clearly and write. Having three children has taken its toll on my free time. So when I do get blessed with an hour to think to myself I try to really work through the week's (or month's events) with clarity and some overthinking.</div>
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We all lose our direction or way in our journey, even now and then no matter the optimist, everyone experiences bad days (or weeks, or months). I try to keep my eyes on the prize, which is not easy, because "happiness" is easily defined but not so easily attained.</div>
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When I lost my full-time job, approximately 3 years ago (2012). We tried to react rationally, because that's all you can do when your faced with heartbreak and sadness. You do your best to react to the events around you appropriately, then learn to grow from that experience.<br />
But what do you do as war, hatred, poverty, greed, and negatively creep under your doorstep? For me, I try to recognize that this is just part of life's challenges and accept that the change is part of the lesson to be learned. </div>
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One of the best communicators I've ever researched, William Ury, discusses how many of us are constantly waiting for our turn to talk rather than, listening to those who are speaking. As humans, we are reaction machines. We are ready, set, and go to speak about the things we are passionate about both intelligently and unintelligently. Yet, we often failure to actually put action where our mouth is. This is how we all lose, when you stop communicating with those around you, they can't help what they don't know or see.</div>
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But what do you do when the message or reality is hard to face? How do you preserve your dignity when your disappointed? How do you discuss what is hard to say?</div>
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Honesty.</div>
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In 2008, I moved my family to Arizona for an amazing job opportunity and a chance at a 'supposed' good 5 year plan. Well, 8 years later I find myself disappointed because the plan didn't work out. As I mentioned above when I lost that full-time job, our family reacted as best we could. I continued to work upwards of 6 part-time jobs to try to maintain the dream we originally had. I also tried to save face by not accepting defeat. Yet, each year after 2012, I watched my income become less and less and our struggles grew and grew. It was often, our family suggested we move back.</div>
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Why did we stay? One reason was because my husband was waiting in the neverending line to have a hearing for his disability and I had made a good life for us here. We are happy, and isn't that the most important? But the more I look at the things I have, the more I see the things I'm missing.</div>
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I joined an amazing hula hulau and have made friends with some of the nicest, most inspiring women I've ever met in my life. They became my ohana. I also love my on ground part-time teaching job (even though it doesn't quite pay the bills). I love the students I've met over the years, and those that have become lifelong friends.</div>
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But, all good things must come to an end because otherwise how would they become fond memories?</div>
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As we approach my husband's eminent disability hearing, we have realized that no matter it's result - our 5 year (now 8 year plan) has ended and it's time to make the next 5-year plan.<br />
Taking into account, the things we miss the most - it's become obvious that it is time to return to our home state of Pennsylvania. This decision was hard, but the one thing we have missed in our lives the most, has been the presence of family.</div>
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Despite our best efforts, it seems most obvious that the right direction to turn is to run towards the arms that have been open all along.</div>
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As much as I wish this decision was easy to come to, I've found myself grieving for the life I've come to know. I love the life we've built, I've had two children during that 8 years here and I grieve the loss of my hobbies. While here, I enriched my life by bringing faith back into it. I know that faith won't fit in as well back home. I've grown to love dancing with my hula sisters and I'm grateful of the lifelong friendships (ohana) I've made.</div>
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Where we ultimately end up is hard to say, a lot of that hinges on whether my husband has success with his disability hearing.</div>
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However, as I sit here weighing out our future I know a few things to be true. When I left Pennsylvania at the age of 25 with my eldest daughter and husband, we didn't know much but we had love. I know we will leave Arizona the same way, with 3 beautiful girls and love will still be guiding us.</div>
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And isn't that what it is all really about anyway, love and self-made happiness?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-84265125416686879782015-07-16T07:47:00.001-07:002015-07-16T12:06:40.198-07:00Fiona's Birth Story<p dir="ltr">I was scheduled to be induced on Sunday, July 12th at 11pm at night due to health issues. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I came to the hospital, was dialated to 2cm but no contractions. I was given pitocin and around 2:30am had only progressed to 3cm. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Shortly thereafter, my dr decided to break my water to try to get things moving along. Having had 2 prior daughters' born in 4 hours or less labor time (unmedicated births) one can imagine by 4:30am, I was absolutely exhausted and gave in to receiving the epidural. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I was checked and still had only progressed to 6cm by 8am. After receiving the epidural, things were really different - I did not feel the pain of contractions at all. </p>
<p dir="ltr">At 8:30am I was overcome with the pressure that I needed to push. The nurse thought I was joking, so she checked me and I had gone from 6 cm to 10 cm in minutes. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The one nurse raced to get my dr and the other prepared the room and placed me in the stir-ups. My dr came in and in 2 pushes she was out. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Fiona T Williams was born at 8:39am, weighing 7lbs 1oz on July 13th, 2015. My longest pregnancy, largest baby and she completes our family.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b8Z8H4R7aGI/VafGPNRzPrI/AAAAAAAANX0/SyD38CSV7eI/s1600/20150715_190416-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b8Z8H4R7aGI/VafGPNRzPrI/AAAAAAAANX0/SyD38CSV7eI/s640/20150715_190416-2.jpg"> </a> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-85372042585032763022014-04-03T00:03:00.003-07:002014-04-03T00:03:43.708-07:00Life is What Happens When Your Planning for the Future<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0eq33VwWzNc/Uz0HYef4wdI/AAAAAAAAFFY/nbIqwQOimxs/s1600/mildred+and+girls+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0eq33VwWzNc/Uz0HYef4wdI/AAAAAAAAFFY/nbIqwQOimxs/s1600/mildred+and+girls+2014.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a></div>
Yesterday I got fresh strawberries and today I got an angel food cake and we met our family friends at their camper. Jim and Mildred Meeker have been friends with my parents since my mom and dad first moved into their first home. Sadly, that home was taken away during a tornado in May 1985. <br />
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However, my parents spent over a decade as next door neighbors to the Meekers'. But let me say, even when the Meekers' weren't our next door neighbors, they were close to our hearts. I remember visiting Gayle Pratt & her family when they lived in Florida. <br />
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I remember my mom crying when she found out they weren't going to be our next door neighbors and were moving to Colorado. But that didn't mean they didn't spend years together as neighbors and friends. Tonight, Jim and Mildred shared with me memories I had heard, some old stories I hadn't and reminded me how simple life once was. When sitting out back on my deck with my mom happened. <br />
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Mildred told me about her last phone call with my mom, "My mom told her, Mildred, I don't regret not ever getting to Hawaii. Honestly, I can't think of living my life any differently than I have. I have enjoyed every meal, every moment, and I've learned something new everyday. My only regret is to not get to see Jennifer finished her Masters degree." My mom never once said this to me.<br />
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The thing is, when my mom got diagnosed with only 3 months to live. I had just finished my first Masters level course which I took in the summer of 2004. I remember coming home that Friday, my mom had gone to the doctor on Thursday because she thought her sciatic nerve was bothering her. They got a call in the afternoon Thursday (after my mom's early morning appointment) and the doctor requested my mom to return to her office. She needed to order additional tests right away. According to my dad, my mom just said to the nurse, "just tell me the diagnosis, my nerves can't wait until tomorrow." The nurse said she couldn't say for sure. My mom insisted to speak to the doctor on the phone, the doctor did actually come to the phone (knowing my mom's anxious personality) and said, "I'm sorry its terminal cancer Nancy, but we can talk about options." My mom returned to her office that Friday, to learn she only had three months. My parents decided not to tell me on Thursday because they knew I had the final and they didn't want to affect my grades. <br />
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When I came home Friday to say I got an A, they met me in the living room with this life altering news. My mom said she didn't expect me to attend school (first time ever in my life had she said that) but I was so stunted I didn't know what else to do but to continue as planned. So I did, I took on full-time school and work as I always had. But I never knew my mom thought I would make it. I mean, I realize that is what she hoped for but from the moment of diagnosis, she treated me as though - I didn't have to earn her love in any way. But what she had always taught me was school should come first. I don't regret getting my masters degree, I can't say I even regret not being by my mom's side every moment of that 3 1/2 months she had. What I regret is not having her here now to share in these moments, not being able to really explain what an amazing person she really was. <br />
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I've been crying for a little while now, trying to work things out in my head. How my mom could've just known I would finish my masters degree or how you never really know when its the last time you may see someone. What I am grateful for is every moment I get to share and I am going to be more grateful moving forward. I'm reminded why I love the words <em>carpe diem </em>(seize the day) because life really is what happens while you are planning for the future. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-91984996997179801162013-12-30T21:16:00.001-08:002013-12-30T21:16:08.370-08:00To Gina, my Best Friend
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To crowd) </i>I’d
like to thank everyone in attendance tonight. I am the matron of honor and my
name is Jennifer. I’ve known Gina since she was 16. We both worked at Serafini’s
restaurant and started our first week together. Even though we had different
jobs, we clicked as friends right away. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gina is crazy awesome and we have always shared
spontaneous fun together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To Gina) </i>In fact,
you are the only person I can carry on multiple simultaneous conversations
with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To crowd) </i>I cannot
say there is one particular funny story or heartfelt moment - I could share
with you that would accurately depict how much I love Gina as my best friend.
She is more than my best friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To Gina) </i>You are
the sister I never had.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>I remember
the vow we made one night while working late at Serafini’s… that if we weren’t
married by the time you turned 30, we were just both going to move to Ft Myers
Florida, buy a condo and become cougars.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> I
am sort of glad we didn’t have to do that.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Face crowd) </i>I
tried to think of one event that has defined our friendship and I just couldn’t.
It’s far beyond a friend who answers the phone in the middle of the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gina is the only friend I could ever rely on,
even if it meant her explaining to her mom why there was an extra car door in
their garage, which <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">may.be.</i> resembles
Jen’s car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There hasn’t been a moment
that Gina hasn’t had my best interests in mind. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(Pause, give Gina love sign)</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(Face crowd)</i> She voluntarily
attended my lengthy graduate thesis presentation to support my attaining a master’s
degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel blessed to call her the
Godmother of my two daughters’ including Nina who was the flower girl this special
evening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To the Cooks) </i>I
feel blessed to know her parents, Leslie and George.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gina is the only friend I shared a vacation
with during my youth. Her parents graciously invited me to join them on their
vacation in Fort Meyers one year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
fondly remember us renting small scooters and getting stuck because we tried to
drive through sand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To Gina) </i>I also fondly
remember when we rented the 4-wheel pedal driven cart because I wanted to take Lara,
my ten pound Shih-Tzu puppy, for a ride around the peninsula. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To crowd) </i>Gina is
the only genuine friend I have had through what I would call the most
challenging years of my life including losing my mom to cancer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gina accompanied me to my daughter Nina’s
first Christmas Eve mass in 2007.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To Gina) </i>Gina, We
have both laughed together, cried together and spent countless sleepless nights
doing so. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am beyond grateful to be
part of your life and your wedding party tonight. I would travel to another
country just to share this beautiful moment with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">(<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">To Steve) </i>Steve,
I’ve known you since you both met and you are both just the perfect match for
each other with all of the crazy awesome spontaneous fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is really no one more perfect for Gina.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(To crowd) </i>I want
to wish the bride and groom a long happy marriage, let us all raise our glasses
to them both because tonight has truly been a wonderful New Year’s eve that I
know most of us won’t forget anytime soon. Best wishes to you both.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-62428029287027386702013-10-11T03:36:00.001-07:002013-10-18T23:57:20.341-07:00Zhenna Lee Williams is born <3<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 20px;"></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 20px;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FveJPIK4GFU/UmBVc9K43HI/AAAAAAAADEs/obuqo0eJwRE/s640/blogger-image--639190675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FveJPIK4GFU/UmBVc9K43HI/AAAAAAAADEs/obuqo0eJwRE/s640/blogger-image--639190675.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Birth story: I had been in
early labor since Saturday, October 5th at around 8pm at night when the
hospital sent me home and tried giving me a shot of morphine and ambien (glad I
declined otherwise this story would have not ended the same).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">2:30am</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I woke up Monday, October 7th
early morning and I was groaning and rolling around on... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">6:00am </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I get in the tub because it was
so intense, I look down and five huge blood clots float by, I get out of the
tub and I'm panicking (Zach was awoke by me yelling) he tells me to call the
doctor, he didn't want to go back to the hospital over a little blood. So to
prove to the hospital they should care, I put on one of the adult diapers.
(Good thing for my carpet...) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:10am </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I wait for the on call doctor to
call me back, I tell him contractions are two minutes or less apart, but with
the low lying placenta I'm worried because I'm bleeding like a period. He
suggests to go to the hospital or his office. Zach and I discuss going to
the hospital, me missing work, all to be sent home again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Zach proceeds to take the dogs outside and
within 5 minutes everything went from tolerable to intolerable fast.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:14am </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I tell Zach that he needs drive
me to the college so I can direct my students for my 9am class. He says to me,
"you are yelling... How are you going to teach a class? We are going to
the hospital, try calling Sally to come get Nina."<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:15am</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I call my friend, Sally, she
answers with "are you in labor? I haven't slept all night and I've been
dreaming about you in labor, at one point I delivered the baby?!?!" I'm
having trouble formulating sentences (without yelling at this point) so I say
I'm bleeding, so yes I'm going to the hospital.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I wasn't off the phone 3 seconds
and I have this massive contraction (I'm screaming bloody murder, takes me from
standing to my knees and it’s followed by two coughs while simultaneously two
gushes)... My water had broke… labor was already going on very fast now.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:25am </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Zach comes in and I'm screaming
"we need to go my waters gone... It wasn’t a little either, it was a huge
gush of water and blood. If we aren't at the hospital ASAP you will be
delivering a baby in the car." (Thankful for that diaper.) So he's on the
move, we make it outside Sally arrives running into the house and we go. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:27am</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Frankly the 20-min drive felt
like eternity... I was screaming bloody murder the whole way. Zach keeps
telling me to breathe. (He did like 100 the whole way, shared that after...
Even commented I knew you weren't cohesive or you would have been pissed. But I
did not want that baby coming out in the car.)</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Arrive at the hospital </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:38am</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">So they force me into this dinky
children's wheelchair (no adult size?) and are wheeling me up stat. I'm
screaming the whole way and Zach says to the nurse, "yeah you want to take
the short cut... She isn't a screamer, normally..." By this point my
legs are buckling and I'm crying for an epidural.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">7:40am </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Nurse says she has to check my
cervix and I'm still demanding an epidural... Nurse says I'm 9cm and she says
the epidural specialist is in an ER c-section ... So there’s no I'm almost done
anyway. I was so mad. They run to call my midwife.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">8:15am</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I'm screaming I want an
epidural, my midwife rushes in and checks me "girl you are already at 10cm
you are having a baby there is NO time... YOU can do this!" </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">8:45am</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">She's saying it’s time to push,
you can do this and I'm still screaming I can't do this. I hesitated twice but
finally in a chanting fury I gave everything I had and she says, ok her head is
right there... One big one you got this...</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">9:02am </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Zhenna Lee Williams was born at
9:02am on 10/7/13... The midwife let us do delayed cord clamping
(hooray!) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Unfortunately, I lost about 1/2+
liter of blood. Zach said it was messy; my prior doctor would have sectioned me
for sure. </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">She was born weighing 5lbs 15oz,
19 1/2 inches, she's beautiful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
say I would have never thought I was strong enough to do it without
medicine. We are elated with our family of four. </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Georgia; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Georgia; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-33461760496734028512013-05-25T22:40:00.001-07:002013-05-26T01:10:35.697-07:00Gender Reveal ExperienceI paid a private licensed ultrasound tech come to my home to do an in-home ultrasound while my family in Pennsylvania logged in via Skype. Today, May 25, 2013, James arrived to make the official gender determination.<div><br><div>At the beginning of our appointment, our television was set up, so our family could watch. My daughter insisted on holding my hand and as he begins the sonogram. He says: for fun, that he usually checks to heart rate to see if the old wive's tale about a baby's bpm holds accurate. </div><div><br><div>He mentioned, in his experience, its 95% accurate. He continues to say that a boy's heart beats per minute is most always under 150 bpm and a girl is most always above. He says that only in about five out of a hundred, is it usually off.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-gd0g6Z4hPDg/UaGrOELuPHI/AAAAAAAACf8/UNOYNLCJCpI/s640/blogger-image--157683605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-gd0g6Z4hPDg/UaGrOELuPHI/AAAAAAAACf8/UNOYNLCJCpI/s640/blogger-image--157683605.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><div>The bpm was 137. Note: I've been saying that the babybpm.com site always tells me <i>boy</i>... After he says this and shows the heart rate, our family on the webcam gets louder with excitement.</div></div><div><br></div><div>My daughter gives me this terrified, sad and confused look. She was <b>positive</b> it was a <i>girl</i>.</div><div><br></div><div>At the start, the baby is straddling the umbilical cord and he says he has to get the baby to move. Baby was literally hugging the placenta like pillow. (So cute.)</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1zjz9xLhVIk/UaGrNoqJk_I/AAAAAAAACf0/08L3jcmYBVY/s640/blogger-image--2082758961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1zjz9xLhVIk/UaGrNoqJk_I/AAAAAAAACf0/08L3jcmYBVY/s640/blogger-image--2082758961.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div><br></div><div>While doing so, he explains that typically girl's show three lines (he explains the logic) and while trying to get baby to move he says, "We'll I think I know what it is but I want to be sure before I say. I just want to get her to move to be certain."</div><div><br></div><div>Everyone on the webcam caught it too. "Did we just hear '<i>her</i>'?"</div><div><br></div><div>I spoke up and said, "I heard '<i>her</i>'."</div><div>My daughter flashes me a look of excitement and relief.</div><div><br></div><div>James laughs and says, "we'll let's just watch her then and here you will notice there is no <i>penis</i>, its definitely a girl..."</div><div><div>My 5-year old niece, Riley and her younger brother, Gracin, (who are presently watching/<i>listening</i> on the webcam) hear the word "<i>penis</i>" and all the children in the room squeal with <i>giggles</i>. </div><div><br></div><div>James then says, slightly embarrassed says, "Oh kids, that is just the technical term for <i>berries and a stick</i>." </div><div><br></div><div>We were all laughing hysterically at this point. While we are giggling, the baby is acting funny on the screen. She even scratched her butt, which we caught a 3D photo of. I'll remind her I still have that photo when she's <i>fifteen</i>.</div><div><br></div><div>My daughter Nina gives me a high five that <b><i>its for sure a</i></b> <i><b>girl</b></i>.</div></div><div><br></div><div>The entire experience was so positive and exciting for all. I am so blessed to have to shared it with my (grandma) Craft, (mom) Tina and (other dad) Pat, (sisters) Tessa and Kali and (my extended family) Nate and (niece) Riley and (nephew) Gracin. </div><div><br></div><div>It was just a wonderful experience, definitely worth it. ~</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-68056309708338874062013-05-08T22:01:00.000-07:002013-05-08T22:01:25.694-07:00Life's Unexpected Turns for the Best<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>It's been months since I've added to my blog. I went through a dark time in my life. Losing a job that I worked my heart and soul in, all of it was unnoticed again. It reminded me much of past experiences where I've put everything into something and it didn't work out. As this was not the 1st time I got burnt by a job, I luckily had account assurance for many of my bills, college loans, credit cards amongst other securities. At first, I wanted to run away from my problems and moved 1000 miles north, only to encounter an unanticipated situation which brought us back to Phoenix. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>What I've learned is to appreciate the things I lost while working 80 hours a week. I have family time, I have a wonderful family that I desperately needed to spend more time with. I was lucky to have the opportunity to remain at home with just enough temporary but part-time opportunities to make ends meet. Amongst help from family, I still own a home, have transportation and spend much of my time with my family expecting an addition in October. I still have bad days, I still struggle to make ends meet but I'm so much happier to just be teaching online and on ground. I feel like I do make a difference and the lowered stress has helped me to remain healthier this pregnancy. Now reaching 4 months, I'm really getting excited about having a baby for my daughter. I always wanted a sibling and I'm so happy my daughter will have one.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I'm very appreciative that I'm still surviving and we are happily together. I'm excited to join dance again and be a stronger part of the practice. I love watching my husband be a dad. Life can always be better, but its the perfect moments in between that get you through the tough times. <3</i></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-61401892346307332692013-01-09T20:29:00.004-08:002013-01-09T20:50:23.218-08:00Forget-Me-Not: October, November, December 2012 and January 2013<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>I will explain soon, the deep darkness I have lived in over the past few months... Almost a Prelude of Le</em></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>ading a Double-Life...</em></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">With every journey you encounter, you can only make judgment based on the knowledge you have gained up until that point in time. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">Sometimes we choose the wrong road for the right reasons, even when we know it is wrong. Walking down that same road... c</span></em><em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">oming from an increased </span></em><em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">self-awareness, can lead you down a dark path from the past. One</span></em><em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"> you might have thought... you had overcome. However, that is not always the case.</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">I retitled my blog to "Forget-Me-Not" not merely based on a beautiful flower, but more because of several other quotes and my new understanding of their application to my life. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">I know my increased self-awareness will someday, indeed forget these deep journeys. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">Forget-Me-Not: (def) My conscious effort to remember who I was, who I am and whom I aspire to be. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span></em><br />
<strong><em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><u>Words of Wisdom</u></span></em></strong><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">"The mystery of human existence lies not just in staying alive, but in finding something to live for." -Fyodor Dostoyevsky</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><br />"Be the Change You Wish to See in the World." -Mahatma Gandhi [However, more accurately translated: "I</span></em><em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">f we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. ... We need not wait to see what others do."] </span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">In closing, my own words: My writing is my way of becoming a forget-me-not.</span></em><br />
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Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-58974879214722020382012-10-20T02:30:00.000-07:002012-10-20T13:57:57.615-07:00The Cycle of Life and Dodging Bricks to the FaceIt’s been a long week starting with Wednesday, there were 250 lay-offs at the University of Phoenix based on an 5-year auditing by an independent company of each position within all areas of the work force, nationally. (I don’t like surprises and I hate to feel like a statistic.) All in one day, I lost friends, managers and learned 56% percent of my colleagues/me were being dispersed to all the college divisions (10 Schools), only 19 would remain with our department. It was also announced another 550 individuals were losing their jobs before 2013 because 112 campuses and/or learning centers were being closed and all students transferred to online.<br />
<br />
My job classification within my department got a band-aid, “if your new (unknown) manager or Dean allows telecommuting, you can get one-day of telecommuting as compensation if you continue your employment with them after 90 days. If you decide to stay with IDD, you will also receive the same opportunity.” <br />
<br />
However, there was no mention of where the mysterious 32 laptops for those “non-senior employees” would come from. I am 1 of only 12 people who have a laptop and I’m not handing it over like it’s a piece of bread. I became a senior employee over two years ago by earning it through countless hours of giving 300% and I’ve maintained the top being in the top 25% for over two years… you are going to pry this piece of plastic from my lifeless fingers. In fact, you can only have it, if you hand me something better.<br />
<br />
I digress.<br />
<br />
Next, was the instruction to fill out a preference sheet #1-11. You have to decide your “preference” based on which college division you thought would pick you or if you really wanted to stay with our department. It’s hard to consider doing this without knowing which college division values your work enough to pick you for as their preferred #1 or #2 new positions allocated to their teams (and they could only pick 2-3 people out of 44… without contacting you directly.) <br />
<br />
I should have called my dad on Wednesday when I first got the information, but it coincided with my mom’s death, I was overly emotional and I just didn’t want to make his day even more of a burden. At least I had Zach’s birthday to be happy about, right? Well, except I was so demolished by the day, I didn’t sleep that night and just worked through the night because I need to not obsess about impeding doom.<br />
<br />
I won’t lie… Thursday morning, I went into strategist mode like it was survivalist mode. I qualitatively surveyed random samplings of my competitors/non-threats, just to figure out that the advice my dad gave me at 6am that morning was the best strategy. Sigh, I wasted four hours determining I just needed to be straightforward. I have tip-toed around Deans and Executive Management for 4 years and that was not who I am. I know who I want to work with and they are the best, or it’s not worth the risk of losing what I already have. Should’ve done what dad suggested that morning, because 35+ years at General Electric playing the politics of being a smart and experienced man, without a piece of paper, makes you a darn good strategist.<br />
<br />
So sent an email, met with the director, met associate director and said the truth. I got truth back, they already had a list from the college divisions who their 2-3 picks were and their placement is based on when the numbers are a match. With the email already sent, the play was in motion.<br />
<br />
Then wait, anxiously.<br />
<br />
I got an email at 7:51am Friday morning confirming a match in numbers. So, all I can say right now is if it’s true: my life, my daughter’s life and my husband’s life, got a whole lot better overnight. I will still contribute the same, spend the time, and even work harder... but be in an environment, where I will be respected and trusted based on my performance. I won’t actually say anything officially until Wednesday when it is announced because… I am sort of in disbelief and feel like it’s too good to be true.<br />
<br />
My Brookline class felt a little more secure that they would still see their Professor every Friday, same time, same place.<br />
<br />
So being high on life, chanting for it to be true, <br />
I get a brick to the face out of the blue. <br />
<br />
A former student calls my phone, I answer knowing the number and he is screaming in the phone at me (now I haven’t seen him or talked to him months) and only continued to answer his calls because I was trying to be pay forward the favor, similarly as one Professor did by just <em>believing in me</em>, when I hit rock bottom. So I know he has several severe “emotional disorders” and at first, I was more worried about what he might do to himself… so I tried to talk to him. <br />
<br />
He goes off on a rant, saying he is going to blackmail me… but couldn’t answer the question – <em>what is it I did? or exactly how blackmail would work</em>? (When you know you haven't done anything wrong it's kind of impossible to get blackmailed and more impossible for someone to logically answer the question.) He was seriously talking crazy and in circles (without me even able to speak) then hangs up. <br />
<br />
So I call him back, calmingly asking him,<em> please talk to me, tell me what’s going on</em>. Then he says, he is going to call the cops and tell them I sell drugs. At this point, I was so confused and alarmed because the law enforcement in Arizona is intimidating even when you know you are innocent… because I was speechless, he hangs up. <br />
<br />
So again, I call him back and proceed to try to get the screaming, raging, lunatic to stop and ask him to please just tell me what’s going on. He starts bawling over the phone, saying that <em>I needed to call his girlfriend and make her let him in her house.</em> So I persuaded his to disclose his location, he is apparently outside of his girlfriend's house, found her with some other guy, and she won’t let him in and somehow this is all “<em>my fault… not hers, not his. Mine.</em>”<br />
<br />
At this point, he threatens to hurt me and my family and... hangs up on me again. So, I relocate myself and my daughter to our “safe room” because the student does knows where I live. Then, I start searching online to find out what the official policy is for Maricopa Community Colleges if the professor receives a threat. At one point, before class a year ago, I had to talk him down because of the emotional disorders, so I didn't call 911 because I believed that I could do it again. However, I went into accountability mode - I didn't want this lunatic showing up or hurting anyone, so I try to contact Maricopa Community College Safety.<br />
<br />
I called six different numbers including Maricopa Emotional Safety’s number……… over twelve times. No one ever answered. Glad I am so safe as a faculty member. (Sarcasm.)<br />
Zach is aware of the situation and decides to go buy smokes. <em>(He is seriously never alarmed by anything, with I was that confident.)</em><br />
<br />
My phone rings again, it is the student again. Now I am directly pissed because he's affected my evening with my family (after obviously a long emotional week). So he got an unexpected verbal whiplashed, <em>I proceed to tell him how he has two choices to make on how the rest of his night is going to go. 1) He’s going to stop acting like a crazy person, leave that location immediately, shut up listen to me and apologize to my daughter for ruining her night or 2) I’m call 911, the cops are coming for you, not me, and your going to jail for threatening me. Concluding with, choose what you do next wisely, because a Professor with no criminal record is a lot more reliable than a person who is screaming crazy talk in the middle of the damn street.</em><br />
<br />
There’s silence.<br />
<br />
I say, “<em>well…</em>” He says <em>ok I will go home</em>. <br />
<br />
So I say, “<em>I will call you in 15 minutes and you better be ready to listen and fucking apologize for this shit.</em>” I hang up.<br />
<br />
10 minutes later….<br />
<br />
He calls me, <em>says he’s home, and proceeds to bawl and apologize a million times… he had biked to his girlfriend’s house, where he found her not alone, she wouldn’t let him in because there was another guy there and he thought if he could get me to call her I could persuade her to let him in her house.</em><br />
<br />
He bawls some more. I am silent. <br />
<br />
I tell him what he needs to hear “<em>If</em> <em>you ever do this shit unprofessional again, I will call the cops on your crazy ass because I have only ever tried to help you with kindness and respect. If you need to talk because shit happens, you manage your damn rage and make a civil phone call because I am not your enemy... but pulling another stunt like this, will make me your enemy. </em><br />
<br />
<em>The only reason, I continue to give you guidance, is to help you through your problems in a positive way. You do not want me as your enemy. You get what you give, your actions are mirrored, when you involve others. Negative actions will only ever get you a negativity response. </em><br />
<br />
<em>I will not tolerate you bringing me or my family, into your personal matter. I will not tolerate threats of violence or whatever you lie you rationalize during your emotional rage, in an effort to blackmail me because you think I can convince someone to take action. I also will never take action on anyone over anything on your behalf, especially when I know you are emotionally enraged and unstable.</em>”<br />
<br />
He apologizes to the room while on speaker and says he knew it was wrong. (This lasted for 30+ minutes, while I listened with <em>bleeding</em> ears.)<br />
<br />
So after the craziness, Zach went to bed, Nina and I watched tv… I decide to vent through writing until 2:30am because I’ve dealt with a bit too many surprises this week and I am a little shaken. <br />
<br />
I just hope that everything next week goes better than this week, because I'm not sure how many more bricks to the face I can take, without having to take a time out for sanity.Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-53484479892928948432012-10-08T20:28:00.003-07:002012-10-08T20:28:58.161-07:00My Faith Experience and Lessons Learned at the Florida Nature and Culture Center<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">My faith experience begins with the seeking spirit for confidence, but that was not necessarily realized at the beginning of my journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s relevant to start my experience at the beginning of the story, for you to truly understand my takeaway, from my visit to the Florida Nature and Culture Center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">My story started really about two years ago, searching for the correct Buddhist path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My colleague, Stephanie Thomas, shared her mom practiced SGI Buddhism, along with another one of our colleagues named, Susan Brewer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though, I thought asking about religious views at work, could be interpreted very taboo. I was genuinely interested in SGI practice after reading some of President Ikeda’s writing from the SGI-USA website.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">By coincidence, (the mystic law, really) within a week, I shared the elevator alone with Susan Brewer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were both leaving work for the day and I thought, this is definitely the best opportunity to inquire about SGI with the least amount of potential workplace conflict.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Susan and I sat outside the building, talking for at least thirty minutes and she promised to locate a district near my home and invited me to be her guest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">My first meeting at Red Mountain District, I also brought my daughter, Nina, who was only 3 years old at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our visit gave me insight that I could not ignore. There was an obvious connection that Nina and I both shared with the surrounding environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was given the freedom to ask deep questions about the practice, received deeper responses, and listened to shared personal experiences of actual proof, specifically from Susan, Sally Marks, Tomo and Alicia White. Based on the knowledge from that meeting and the intense gut feeling that of the environment feeling so right, I joined SGI and began practicing immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Shortly after I began practicing, I made my first determination to shakabuku my close friend, Morgan Le Seth and her son, Danero.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morgan and I both shared general Buddhist perspectives and had previously talked about going to a Buddhist meeting together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Based on my personal experience, I was confident that if Morgan visited a Red Mountain District meeting, she would see the same value as I had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only one month later, Morgan and Danero were my guests and joined the practice during their first visit, just as I had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">For most of the first year, I read a lot of study materials, participated in planning and district meetings, and attended Sunday with Sensei as often as I could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nina and I chanted together at home and though skeptical of organized religion, my husband, Zach supported our practice of Buddhism. At this time, he had not attended any SGI meetings or activities because there was no interest or proven benefit in his eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was just something he respected as my personal view, and he supported my perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">This past winter when it was announced that the Youth Division would be singing a song at New Year’s Gongyo Nina insisted on participating. I gladly brought her to practice each weekend necessary, even though she was only 4 years old at the time, she loved learning the song and dance moves and did perform during the 2012 New Year’s Gongyo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also attended the event as an entire family because Zach would never miss out on an opportunity to watch his family shine with happiness doing what they love. New Year’s Gongyo really inspired my decision to increase my participation in another SGI activity, after watching the beautiful dance performance by the members of United Colors for Kosen Rufu group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">It had been thirteen years, since I had danced or performed on a stage, but I was inspired by Nina’s high life condition while participating in the Youth Division activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I too loved to sing, dance and participated in many drama performances when I was in high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recalling those moments, I remembered the sincere happiness it brought to me and the pride it brought to my parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I believed joining the dance group would reignite that sincere enjoyment and create even more happiness in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I attended the first dance group meeting in January and I was overjoyed to learn that both my daughter and I could be part of the group. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Emmanuelle remembered Nina from teaching the Youth Division the dance portion of the song they performed at New Year’s Gongyo and said, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I would love for you to bring her next week.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Truth be told, when I went to the first dance practice, I realized it was a lot harder than I remembered it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though I was confident in all the other aspects of my life, I just couldn’t bring that confidence out during dance practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t understand why I was having so much trouble learning it, but I didn’t quit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact the opportunity to help the group in a different capacity occurred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was very proud to help the dancers by capturing the moment through recording their submission video for the First Annual Ikeda Youth Ensemble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These ladies have all inspired me in so many ways, and when they were selected to represent our territory; I was so genuinely happy I knew they would have continued success at the Ikeda Youth Ensemble in May.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Even with individual dance lessons from my close friend, Khushboo, I was unable to learn the dance in its entirety prior to the conference and also was not able to perform it for Sunday with Sensei.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt very defeated by not getting the opportunity to attend the Ikeda Youth Ensemble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I asked Alicia White for some guidance and she suggested, we meet with Lori, the Women’s Division inspiration in the dance group and to my complete shock, Lori gave it to me straight, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“You don’t have any confidence when you dance, you don’t believe in yourself. You always doubt yourself, so you are never going to get to dance with that attitude.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Ok, that was officially the first reality check, I had experienced in the practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, my initial internal feelings were self-denial because I felt so confident in every other aspect of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But after discussing the conversation, I had with Lori and Alicia with Zach, he reworded Lori’s intended message in a slightly more gentle perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“She wasn’t saying you aren’t a confident person, Lori was saying you needed to apply that confidence to your dance practice or you will never really get it.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I realized they both were completely right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was no longer the confident stage performer I was in high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did doubt my ability to remember the dance moves, to stay in rhythm with the group and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. As the dance group continued to practice for the Ikeda Youth Ensemble, they group were asked to dance at Daisaku Ikeda Week and planned to learn a Hawaiian dance number from another SGI member, Dolly Abad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">My first impression of Dolly was her genuine Hawaiian spirit, energy and confidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dolly taught us more than how to dance; she inspired true Ohana spirit in the dance group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Ohana is the word for family in the Hawaiian culture.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With that same spirit, I made the determination to learn the Hula dance, no matter what, even if it took private lessons, a deeper understanding of the Hawaiian culture and chanting more daimoku than ever before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to do it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">While researching the Hawaiian culture, I began to seek a deeper understanding of the significance of sensei’s choice to visit Hawaii first. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was inspired to learn how President Ikeda was immediately welcomed as Ohana from the very moment he arrived by the Hawaiian people. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was most inspired by Dolly and her daughter’s Ohana spirit, each week during dance practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember after every practice, which often lasted for an hour or more, when we were all sweaty, Dolly insisted every dancer hug and kiss each other’s cheeks, because it was Hawaiian tradition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was definitely Nina’s favorite part of dance each week for sure. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think she even received two rounds of kisses and hugs sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">During May Contribution this year, I was not able to contribute in a serious financial way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I asked Khushboo to help me by organizing a Summer Youth Division Theatre program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was two large determinations to make to further my commitment to kosen-rufu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Making those determinations really deepened my faith. I obtained actual proof by the success of those determinations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">My first successful dance performance was during Daisaku Ikeda Week in July and I gained so much confidence in myself, I decided to even join Dolly’s Hula School as a regular student.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved Hula, the Hawaiian culture, and the deeper understanding of the mentor-disciple relationship I had learned from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only two short weeks later, our Youth Division had their first theatre performance and inspired everyone in audience, which was nearly standing room only with their confidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I must acknowledge, both of these determinations were all made possible with the help of many efforts of many SGI members.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The parents who committed to bringing their youth to practice and helping out in various capacities, inspired me to continue being a leader and I knew it was time to set a more challenging determination. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thus, I made what I thought would be a nearly impossible determination to attend a conference at FNCC before the end of this year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I had previously selected the WD/YWD Leadership Conference occurring September 21<sup>st</sup>-24<sup>th</sup> and when our YWD Territory Leader, Sophia Chang, asked the question in early May, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Who is coming with me to the Conference?” </i>on the Central Territory Facebook group page, my reply was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I wish I could but I don’t have the financial success I need to do it.”</i> Her response <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“So we will chant.”</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">There was yet another obstacle which was out of my control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was only recently appointed a district leader and the conference was intended for Chapter Leaders and up. I realized that this determination I had made was going to be the biggest challenge, I had made to date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I would face the three obstacles and four devilish functions, also called sansho shima, but I couldn’t be sure how these would manifest in my life. But equipped with actual proof from determinations in SGI activities, had contributed so many unique improvements to my family and this had not gone unnoticed by Zach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Nina and I increased our participation in activities, he also increased support and attended SGI activities, sometimes even a district meeting, because he knew how important Buddhism had become in our lives and how important support was to success.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">On August 20th, I received an SGI-USA memo from the Southwest Zone Leaders stating there was revised registration information for the Women's & Young Women's FNCC Conference to be held from September 21-24, 2012, now allowing YWD district leaders to attend. My initial reaction was to forward the email to Zach and just wrote, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I want to go.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I returned home an hour after my email, I was greeted at the door by Zach and the first thing he said was, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I fully support you going to the conference.” </i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">Within the hour, I had posted on Facebook, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I am finding a way to get to this conference.” </i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">The next day, I was unexpectedly paid early by one of my teaching jobs, the exact amount for the conference registration fee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t help but to feel this was the mystic law making it attainable. The next day, I called the Central Territory main office in Chicago and told the woman that I was mailing a check from Phoenix and asked is there anyway you can hold a seat for me until you receive the check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She confirmed my attendance over the phone at that very moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at this point, I still had to figure out the flight arrangements and I didn’t want Zach and Nina to be left alone the whole weekend, while I was off at an SGI Conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt that wouldn’t be fair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">Luckily, with the help of our family, we were able to secure flight arrangements for Zach and Nina to visit our family in Pennsylvania, while I was at the conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oddly, the conference coincided with Zach’s dad’s birthday, how amazingly perfect right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that same timeframe, I was also able to secure my roundtrip flight to Ft. Lauderdale from the closest airport to my house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next thing obvious obstacle was to find someone who we trusted to faithfully, to care for our two dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully Alicia and Tomo took on the responsibility, the moment they heard I was confirmed to go to FNCC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it seemed everything was lining up to be perfect, or so I thought, but I had forgotten about </span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">sansho shima.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">If I only knew how many times sansho shima would face us as a family that month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But every time I would question my intent to go, Zach would reassure me, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Everything is going to work out.” </i>About two weeks before the conference, I was faced with a demon of the past, which made me question my readiness to be able to attend such a fundamentally life changing event because if this demon could persuade me for the second time in my life - how could I possibly expect to attain success with a faith based opportunity, if I couldn’t face one single demon of the past with confidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, sansho shima struck again, only with my work. The load had tripled. I was assigned a major project which required, double the time of a normal project along with numerous meetings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shortly thereafter, it was clear that my other two projects, had to be completed before I could left for the conference or it would affect my annual review.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">As if my increased workload during the day was not enough, it was followed by having to prepare semester-long curriculum for two new courses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The courses were on ground, so I also had to begin instructing them immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was seriously, one thing after another, on top of being casually sick throughout the month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was beside myself in piles of work, which kept me from my regular Buddhist activities, consequently my determination dwindled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">Then, only one week prior to the conference, I became seriously ill (coinciding with my own birthday) to the point that my birthday meal was merely mashed potatoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was really ready to throw in the towel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took me nearly four days to recover from the sickness, which made it almost impossible to finish my projects at work, but somehow I happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The inspiration throughout every, sansho shima I encountered was met with Zach’s continued faith in me, and our family’s ability to overcome any obstacles by working together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During my serious sickness, he kindly typed as I dictated posts for my online students.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">Even when I began to doubt my confidence to travel alone, two days prior to our departure, his reassurance was unwavering, he said, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“You are going to this conference. You have had your heart set on this unattainable goal for months, now you are two days of achieving it and you have lost your courage? Stop worrying. Everything is going to work out and I already know that when you come back from the conference it will make our lives better</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I can already see the change.</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-themecolor: text1;">Right up until a few hours before my flight departing to Ft. Lauderdale, I found myself crying in front of my Gohonzon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was chanting for the safety of Zach and Nina’s flight because they had departed several hours prior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the moment when I realized that all of the challenges leading up to this event had already made it an accomplishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely, something that makes you jump over every hurdle, has more than just a little value, it must have life altering potential.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I received a text message from Zach acknowledging their safe arrival, as I boarded my plane, I felt more secure with my own travel just from that one message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I arrived at FNCC, for some reason I thought, I had already passed any sansho shima coming my way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were welcomed by the staff and volunteers at FNCC like queens, I was excited to be on the first bus and shared that bus with both of our Central Territory Leaders, Women’s Division, Barbara Jenkins, and Young Women’s Division, Sophia Chang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">The first thing Sophia said as she introduced me to Barbara was, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Barbara you can’t imagine how inspirational her daughter, Nina is, she lights up a room with her bright Buddhist spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She always contributes during meetings and loves to lead sancho.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m pretty sure, Nina is going to take my job.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>Obviously, my smile was ear-to-ear because Sophia knew my daughter by first name and remembered her questions at our Kayo-Kai meeting in Phoenix from earlier this year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Next, we received our room assignments and I had hoped to take a nap before orientation that night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, the excitement of being at FNCC propelled me out of my room for photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also needed to discuss my unique dietary constraints with the chef, and of course, visit the gift shop because I that’s what girls’ do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I was walking back from the gift shop to my room, sansho shima struck again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I had neglected to consider I was in Florida and sometimes the sky just opens up to dump a torrential down poor of rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, prior to my trip I had neglected to acknowledge how busted up my sandals were mostly because it doesn’t rain in Phoenix.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the point in time I really acknowledged that more challenges were going to continue to present myself right as the leather tops began to separate from the sole of the sandals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In an effort to keep them in one piece, I quickly removed them and ran barefoot to the nearest building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I arrived at gymnasium, where buses of women were still arriving in the pouring rain with their luggage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I investigated the damage to my sandals. It became quite obvious my sandals wouldn’t make it through anymore rain and definitely wouldn’t survive the weekend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">My first question to one of the staff members was, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“So how does FNCC feel about me being barefoot during this conference?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">The woman replied, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“My dear, you can’t be barefoot, that wouldn’t be safe.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I asked her if she knew of a potential solution, I had no form of transportation and only three dollars cash on me because I hadn’t anticipated the need to bring cash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She returned me barefooted to my room via golf cart and she said, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Don’t worry, I will find a solution for you.”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">So there I was stuck in my room for quite some time, I placed my sandals on the air conditioning unit and hoped for the best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To use the time wisely, I began to unpack my bag, in an effort to ignore the elephant in the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, sansho shima, I realized had completely forgotten to pack pajamas but remembered my bathing suit? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I won’t deny at this point, I was just starting to ask myself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Really, come on, why me?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>I did not know who my roommate would be as she was still on her way from Northern California, and all I could imagine was how I was going to communicate that I had no night clothes to a perfect stranger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My anxiety kicked in because of the anticipation of awkwardness and that was when I started to feel really discouraged by the continued sansho shima.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Followed by the overwhelming feeling of being completely alone, really sank in deep. I felt beyond broken without the presence of my little happiness spirit, Nina, and desperately alone without my emotional support from Zach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">It’s not that I haven’t ever traveled alone. I did it during college for conferences all the time, but I had my mom who persistently called me everyday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time though, was very different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the moment that Zach and I had met, we had never been separated for an entire day, nor had I ever gone a day without seeing Nina.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the moment I broke down, all I could do was cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Not much time passed and Zach called, sansho shima had affected him, he was very emotional about not being with me as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But all too quick, I had to end the call, and head to evening gongyo and orientation. The orientation included a video message from Danny Nakashima, National Men’s Division Leader and an email received earlier that morning from President Ikeda and Mrs. Ikeda, part of it read, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“We are earnestly praying that your conference will be most meaningful and enjoyable. […] I hope that, while respecting and encouraging one another as sisters of the Mystic Law, you will establish a life state of eternally indestructible happiness and total satisfaction. Where there is harmonious unity, the flowers of benefit will blossom magnificently. My wife, Kaneko and I are earnestly sending daimoku every day for your ever-greater health and success, our dearest and most cherished friends – champions of noble mission.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After the orientation, I returned to my room inspired by the amazing words, but deeply missing the presence of Zach and Nina.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We used FaceTime to say goodnight, everyone in tears, but with the determination that tomorrow would be a better day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Our first session was a gosho lecture <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“On the Treasure Tower”</i> with Linda Johnson, the National Women’s Division Leader and Amber George, the National Young Women’s Division Leader. The particular part of the study, I connected the most with was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“To find enjoyment in every obstacle because conquering them makes us limitless.”</i> Followed by, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Don’t ask yourself “why me?” make the change through sincere daimoku.”</i> They reinforced that everyone must <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“own their own karma because it doesn’t just affect you, it affects your family.”</i> Obviously, I felt a very shallow since I had let Friday be a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“why me?”</i> day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was obvious after the lecture I required deep inner resolution and some serious daimoku to determine what my lesson from this conference would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Ironically though, the moment I remember the clearest out of the session was not merely the lesson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was when Linda described her previous day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before her flight to the conference, she was required to go to work to finish a serious case, which required immediate attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For those of you who don’t know, she is a lawyer for criminal cases which often result in life or death convictions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She shared with us that in the 25 years she has practiced law, she did not have any direct links to any death executions, which was more than inspiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She explained how her previous day started when her secretary brought in documents requiring her signature and accidentally dropped her pen under Linda’s desk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Linda proceeded to pick it up the pen and somehow managed to dip her hair in her morning coffee at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And of course, she realized this after her travel clothes were covered in coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t help but to connect completely based on my previous day’s experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But her reaction to sansho shima was definitely not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“why me?”</i> she shared that, at that moment she knew this conference was going to be very significant to all the participants in some way. Her conclusion was the presence of sansho shima was actual proof of the definite success for every participant. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought to myself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Wow what a better attitude towards sansho shima. That’s a woman of true faith.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">After the session ended, we signed up for personal guidance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were so many leaders attendance, that everyone at the conference who wanted personal guidance received at least an hour with the leader of their choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I signed up for personal guidance from Sophia Chang and since I was one of the first people in the line, I specifically selected the final dinner we would share together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that would be when I needed the most guidance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">The conference sessions were truly enlightening in perspective and definitely deepened my faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I visited Ikeda Hall, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry because I was so touched by the items included there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The most significant piece, in my eyes, was from the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This Beautiful Earth</i> photo essay series titled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A Path at Windsor</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It read, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“There are those who build a path, and those who tear it down. There are those who continue to walk the path, and those who stray from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish to be a person who forges a path; a person who persists in walking a path… No matter what; until the end, I will keep running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if I should fall along the way, and return to the dust of the land, because I believe in youth who will succeed me along this path, I will have not a single regret.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I thought to myself, that’s the person I want to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rest of the conference really seemed to fly by so quickly, the staff in the FNCC office went to Old Navy and bought me, not just one pair of sandals but two. Each meal I ate was hand-crafted with kindness for my dietary limitations. I had received genuine inspiration, over and over again, significantly during the memorial service gongyo. I couldn’t help but to be overly emotional because many of the women I had met that weekend had unknowingly shared the same significant loss in our lives: our own mothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the women lined up, many of them still in their youth, they acknowledged the loss of their mother’s by name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This created sheer amazement and instant respect for each of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their strength, spirit, faith and courage to not share gave me the courage to share my own mother’s name without breaking down in tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">It was all too soon for me that our final dinner arrived and it was time for my personal guidance with Sophia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I waited for her at the table, I was overwhelmingly anxious because of what I realized I had to share. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Sophia first said, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I am so happy you were able to attend this conference.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I replied, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“I agreed it was indeed a great benefit.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Then I paused awkwardly, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“But what I had learned was not what I had expected. I realized I can not truly feel the joy and inspiration without Nina and Zach. Over the past three days, both Zach and I realized how significant we were to each other, and the time apart had diminished both of our spirits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without their love, support and presence, I have missed them so deeply. It has prevented me from being in the best mindset to appreciate all of the benefits of this conference. The reason I am so troubled by this realization is because ever since Nina and I joined the SGI practice, I vowed to never force participation of the practice on Zach because I have always appreciated his genuine support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not need him to become a member on paper.”</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I concluded with, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“So now I am not sure what to do because I know I need to bring them both here to experience FNCC for a family conference, but I am still committed to my vow, not to force the practice on Zach.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">I was surprised by her response, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Jennifer, why don’t you think that maybe exactly the lesson you were supposed to learn?”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Dumbfounded, I replied, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“But how can I attend a family conference if my husband isn’t a member?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">Sophia smiled, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Jennifer, Zach doesn’t have to be a member of SGI to attend. He only has to be a member of your family. And to me, it is quite obvious he is a significant part of your family based on the feelings you shared. What you learned here was the importance of the sincere love and unity that you already have in your family. They are the most important element in your life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">She continued, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“You should know, there isn’t a specific lesson anyone is required to learn here. Everyone has a different takeaway, which will continue to show them benefit in the rest of their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your lesson was how important your family is to you and that you must attend a family conference together at FNCC, which is truly a great benefit to realize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus, you are leaving here with fresh appreciation for your family and when you go home, that benefit will continue to be there.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">In conclusion, my takeaway from my FNCC experience was: Everyone’s individual experiences should never be compared, only shared, because each person’s unique experience is important to them at that particular point in their life. Every obstacle I encountered was completely worth conquering, because I am now sincerely aware of how important Nina and Zach are to my faith. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI','sans-serif'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text1;">On a final note, based on my experience at FNCC, I am sincerely confident my family will have SGI in our lives forever. I am most happy to share with you that Nina <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and Zach</i> have already agreed to attend the next family conference at FNCC together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-41507396244696644382012-09-20T21:27:00.003-07:002012-09-20T21:27:37.566-07:00Making Self Improvement a Priority with Love and Support<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">First I have to say, when I hear from other people “It will change your life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just that statement alone makes me skeptical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve heard it many times before, let me list a few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In college, from a Walt Disney World interviewer (for the internship I was applying), “If you are offered this opportunity, you better take it, because not only is it a paid internship, but it will change your life.” Results, I changed my major from Art to Writing because being a Disney Animator is nothing but some “creative think tank” coming together and telling you what and how to draw or animate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this particular instance, the change in my life wasn’t as positive as I had hoped.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first day at my first job in my field of study at the Albion News, one of the part-time writers said, “Well, working here will definitely change your life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure did, made me never want to trust people, never work in Journalism again and I was subjected to writing my own mom’s obituary at the age of 22.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still not seeing the positive from that situation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I hit an ultimate low in my life, after my mom died, I was offered drugs to help me deal… again, with the tag-line, “It will change your life, you will feel so much better.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>False again, no further description necessary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So after hearing from others who practice SGI Buddhism, who have attended conferences at the Florida Nature and Culture Center say “It will change your life.” You can see why, I might be skeptical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But after everyone you talk to, all ages and races repeat the same thing, “It will change your life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can’t help but to wonder, could it really?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I made the determination at the beginning of this year that I was going to do one major thing for one simple purpose, self-improvement so I could help others improve as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t know exactly what that was going to be, and trust me, I’ve tried several things, three new part-time teaching gigs, a mentorship certification, and becoming a stronger member of SGI by joining the dance group, stepping up to be the Young Women’s Division District Leader in our area (with very little experience), and helping to produce the first Future Division Theatre Performance at the August World Peace Prayer at the Phoenix Cultural Center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of all of those things I did for self-improvement, several things stood out, everything I did for others at SGI (and for myself) made me sincerely happy inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Happy, like a kid again, happy.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So by April of this year, I had my heart set on trying to attend an SGI Leadership Conference because I wanted to indeed “change my life” for the better. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But the series of events unfolding as we reached the deadline for the conference I had my heart set on, made me think, I had set an unattainable goal for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then the mystic law took it from there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">First, the conference was announced only for Leaders at the Chapter level and up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(For a few months, I pursued becoming a Chapter leader in order to go, but with the new reorganization that was out of the question.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then out of the blue, I received an email from SGI-USA announcing (one month prior) that the conference was open for Young Women’s District Leaders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within an hour of reading that email, I had posted on Facebook, “I am finding a way to get to this conference.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The next day, I was unexpectedly paid two weeks early the exact amount for the conference fee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t help but to feel this was the mystic law making it attainable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I proposed the idea of me going, I was met with the most positive encouragement from my husband, so my mind was made up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was going to the conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called the next day to the Central Territory main office in Chicago and told the woman that I was mailing a check from Phoenix – is there anyway you can hold a seat for me until you receive the check.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She confirmed me over the phone at the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But at this point, I still had to figure out the flight arrangements and I didn’t want my husband and daughter to be at home alone, while I was off in pursuit of self-improvement and changing my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(That wouldn’t have been fair.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Luckily, with the help of our family, they were able to secure flight arrangements to visit Pennsylvania while I was at the conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oddly, the conference coincided with my husband’s father’s birthday, how amazingly perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that same timeframe, I was also able to secure a flight to Ft. Lauderdale from the closest airport near my house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next thing we had to figure out was who would watch our dogs?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d had some issues with previous caretakers in the past and luckily, someone from my district graciously agreed to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was relieved I knew it was someone who I could trust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it seemed everything was lining up to be perfect, my husband and daughter would get to visit our family in Pennsylvania and I was going on a mission for self-improvement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If I only knew a month ago, how many more trials there would be to come…. (not to say the decision would’ve changed but it was questioned repeatedly).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, was the struggle financially… could we really afford to go?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, every time I would question my intent to go, Zach would reassure me, everything is going to work out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Zach doesn’t practice Buddhism with Nina and me, but he attends all the activities that include performances by us and fully supports the positivity Buddhism brings to our house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">About two weeks ago, I was faced with a demon of the past which made me question my readiness to be able to attend such a fundamentally life changing opportunity because if this demon could persuade me again in my life - how could I possibly expect to change my life if I can’t confront a demon of the past?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My workload tripled, I had just been assigned a major project at work which required double the time a normal project would, numerous meetings, only to realize that the other two projects I was working on had to be completed before I could leave for the conference or it would affect my annual review tremendously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This was followed by having to prepare semester-long curriculum for two new courses, which I had to start teaching immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was seriously one thing after another, on top of being casually sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was beside myself in piles of work, which kept me from my regular Buddhist activities, in turn my determination began to dwindle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Last week (only 1 week prior to the conference) when I found myself seriously ill (on my own birthday) to the point that my birthday meal of the day was merely mashed potatoes, I was really ready to throw in the towel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took nearly four days to recover from the sickness, which made it almost impossible to finish my work in time for the conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But somehow I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And through it all, Zach continued to reassure me of the opportunity I was being given, he told two days ago… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you had your heart set on an unattainable goal for months, now you are within days of reaching it and you have lost your courage, stop worrying. Everything is going to work out and I know that when you come back from the conference you will see things better and it change your life and make our lives better</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I already can see the change.</i>’ </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Somehow, he could see how much Buddhism has helped me become a better person and he knew (without being a member of SGI, the value it has in my life).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here I am, on my laptop, only a few hours from my departure to Ft. Lauderdale and FNCC (having dropped off Zach and Nina over five hours ago for their flight to Pennsylvania) crying my eyes out in front of my Gohonzon chanting for the safety of the flights in the sky tonight, chanting for the change and self-improvement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is when I realized that all of the challenges leading up to this event have already made it an accomplishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely something which makes you jump over every hurdle has more than just a little value, it must have life changing properties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">One thing I’ve learned in my 31 years is anything I ever struggled to do, was worth the lesson I learned from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve already learned I am strong enough to make one single determination for self-improvement and even though the first three attempts didn’t get there, I haven’t given up the spirit to seek for the right cause or opportunity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I realize now that whatever this conference yields will be a positive experience because of all those hurdles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes you don’t appreciate things without fighting all the challenges; this has to be one of those times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find irony in the fact that the name of the airline which will take me to and return from Florida is Spirit Airlines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But most importantly of all, I want to thank everyone who has supported me over the past month in believing I was ready and this was the right time for me to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But more than everyone else, I have to thank my husband, Zach, for the constant reassurance and support over the last month of challenges, it was because of your confidence in me, that I am able to go and appreciate this conference.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, I do believe that this conference isn’t going to just change my life, but it will have influence on everything I do, from teaching students to developing curriculum, to being a better mom and a better wife.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because with the support of my family and the influence this practice has made in only a year and a half of my life, I am a better person than I was and want to continue to pursuit happiness even in the midst of darkness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s time to be the change.</span></div>
Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5331855512857786205.post-48645714135966734152012-08-22T01:38:00.003-07:002012-08-22T01:40:10.763-07:00"Winning When You Are Not Sure You Are Winning"<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Often I get caught up with my environment, all the visual and audio distractions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having Attention Deficit Disorder and having the majority of the associated symptoms, for example, if a person walks by I glance at them, if people are talking, I overhear their conversation and often think they are talking to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s actually quite a menace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would happily trade to be a normal person, who can ignore things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then my Obsessive Compulsiveness kicks in and I feel like not only do I need to be the best; I need to always be ready for any opportunity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is partially Buddhist philosophy, as popular Buddhist writer Greg Martin would say, after you climb the first mountain, you start on the second and keep going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having these two particular types of health issues often makes me forget I am not super person because I am drawn to staying busy and being active.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I first moved to Phoenix, I had a part-time online teaching job and I built curriculum for the same University.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over four years later, I’ve grown a lot, not within the University, I went further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started teaching on ground Communications two years ago for another two Colleges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love being in front of others and teaching them knowledge, sharing personal experiences, and learning from them just as they learn from me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have had some wonderful successes, I now teach for four colleges/universities in both on ground and online capacities plus I was promoted to a senior in the curriculum position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since I am teaching for four colleges/universities I regularly have around 200 students, who I do my best to get to know personally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the best gifts though, isn’t getting to share my knowledge with random students, it’s having the ability to change the way someone thought about something and inspire others to find their infinite potential.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My husband and I have always taught our daughter to bring happiness wherever she goes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is very intelligent, within five days of turning five years old, she was a first grader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see myself when I was younger, in her, the spirit, the happiness, the honesty, the heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could tell you a million stories just based on her five years of life that have monumentally changed my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much more than you can just get from teaching students in a classroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s being able to share in moments with someone who shares your values.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My family is very different from yours and you can’t compare apples to oranges or grapes, but when you are lucky enough to realize that the part of your life you are winning at the most is watching your daughter be more brilliant than you ever were and seeing her changing the world around her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I believe you can really feel a sense of accomplishment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I was little I lived in a small town that didn’t have musical troupes, swimming pools, in fact, our music teacher even taught Driver’s Education and there was no soccer team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I wished for as a child was to be able to be involved in music, theater, song, dance – I wasn’t the best, but I did pretty well at most of it once I got to be in high school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being on stage felt right, perhaps that’s what lead me to the field of education, I spent years of doing and wanted to spend years of sharing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a very good childhood, very kind middle class parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went onto college, first child from both sides of my family and then even received a master’s degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But none of all those things compare to how it feels to watch your young child be extraordinary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Having Nina as a daughter is more than just being the luckiest mom in the world, it’s being a part of a significant person’s life that I know will change the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have always believed in early education and activities and she was in dance when she was three, this past year we enrolled our daughter in drama classes and she really enjoyed it and excelled at it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the thing she loves to do the most, outside of drawing is singing, and sometimes those two are simultaneous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her brilliance lights the room when she makes up her own songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Just today, we received confirmation from the children’s theatre that she would be permitted at the age of five to train in a music troupe for ages seven to twelve for twelve weeks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She never ceases to amaze me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is really what every parent dreams for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As much as I would love to have another child, because I know that child would be just as amazing, I don’t because I want her to always be my #1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only imagine what her future holds, maybe a Nobel Peace Prize, honorary doctorates and her turning into a world traveler because she seems to have “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">really have</b>” <u>infinite potential</u>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Buddhists believe that we can all attain infinite potential in our lives and I will tell you, many people, even those I don’t know have called Nina, our little Buddha.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the moment I realized how wonderful she really is was when I read the Thank You Note from an anonymous person, posted on the bulletin board at our Cultural Center, it read “Congratulations SGI Future Division “Summer Theatre Camp” that started May 19, 2012 thru July 27, 2012.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your performance on Sunday, August 5, 2012 “World Peace Prayer” was a Success! Thanks to Jennifer (Nina’s Mom) and all parents/SGI members for your support.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">You know why that note made me shine with tears of happiness in my eyes, because everyone doesn’t know me as Jennifer, they know me as <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>Nina’s Mom</u></b> and that’s the greatest honor I’ve ever achieved and I know that fact will never change.</span></div>
Forget-Me-Nothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03295724943667875083noreply@blogger.com0