Leave password field empty to keep your existing password!
It's always been my dream to change the world. Growing up, I was always told, "If you can dream it, you can do it." My favorite genre of anything is inspiration. I love hearing stories that just make me stop and think, "Oh, wow. That's amazing." The thing is, that everyone has a story and we are not all the same. I love hearing everyone's different story or journey and finding beauty in everything, even in the crazy things. I believe that it's the little things that mean the most in life and in order to change the world, you contribute by one act of kindness at a time. Call me the "Love saves all" type or whatever you want, but I believe that's absolutely true. Love does prevail through anything and everything. I am a Mom to three and that journey is the most amazing of all. I am also a wife to a husband who I adore but drives me crazy at times :). My favorite thing to do is read and write, but I really enjoy being outdoors and going on crazy adventures to create the most amazing memories. It's my hope that through my writing, I can help anyone get through any struggles or fears they may be facing. I enjoy relating to others in their journeys.
Last night during our bedtime routine, my daughter wanted to show me her freshly bandaged wound that she had acquired from playing soccer with our dog on our fun day Sunday adventure. She had given the time and attention to carefully mend it before climbing into bed, doing her best not to let any "bad things" get inside the cut. The band aids lay comfortably on top, smothering it intentionally for protection. "Do you want to see my cuts, mom?" She asked me, proud that she no longer needed my assistance in managing her wounds. Careful not to discourage, I nodded with a smile. "I would love to. Have those bandages been on all day? Can you take them off so I can assess the damage?" She thought for a moment, knowing that her reply would mean taking my suggestions, robbing her of the independence she had just gained. "I just changed the band aids, it looks good and feels fine." She smiled in a hopeful way. I knew it was important to keep her in the leader role. "You did great taking care of that. It's nice that you know how to handle your own problems and help yourself get through them, I am proud of you. Do you think it's a good idea to remove the bandages for the night to let it breathe? All cuts need to breathe at times to be able to heal properly." I smiled casually as I became lost in my last words. "All cuts need to breathe at times to be able to heal." Feeling a sense of wonder as my mind reached deep inside, relating this last statement to recent "cuts" in my life that I have needed to breathe from. I felt enlightened as she lifted the bandages to expose the fresh cut that had slight amounts of plasma glistening, trying to scab over the wound for the proper protection that it needed instead of the temporary one. It's crazy how something as small as a bandaged cut can relate to our lives in a deeper form. Often, when we use a temporary cover to guard our "cuts" it can do more harm if we don't let our wounds breathe and heal in their own unique way. Trying to use covers for our “cuts” will only delay the raw healing that we need. Once again, choosing to slow down and listen was the best option. My heart feels a little less at war and more at peace now that I can breathe.
I walked hurriedly to meet my friend at a local Cafe' to go over a presentation that I had put together for an event that had my nerves worked up. It was freezing outside as snow fell silently across the city. I held onto my backpack tightly with my gloved hands, my teeth chattering as I fantasized about the hot chocolate I would soon be indulging in. Jones was standing outside waiting for me as I approached. "Oh, hey! So, now you're the immigration writer, aren't you?" He said to me snidely with a slight eyebrow raise as he held the door to the cafe' open for me. I smiled kindly and tucked a strand of hair behind my ears to make a better connection, "Oh, is that what they're labeling me as now?" I side stepped him in a playful manner. He followed me inside the doorway to continue the conversation, "Well, what would you label yourself as?" He shrugged as if it were a simple question with an obvious answer. My smile never wavered as I held my head high and met his eyes, "Nothing. I am not a label, therefor, I don't have one." He chuckled lightly, "Sure you do! Everyone has a label! I mean, I'm the guy who likes to play rugby in freezing temps, which earned me the title of a fighter." Pausing to reflect on the statement made, I lowered my eyes only to find a resilience sleeping in me that I never knew was there. Slowly, I raised my eyes back to his, "See, that's what is wrong in our times today. Society has made us believe that we are all labeled in some way. That we fall into a certain category, and that leads us to be judged based on what category we happen to fall into. Don't you understand? We are not categories or labels. We are people with feelings, emotions, aspirations, and dreams. We don't deserve to fall into a specific category which creates a sense of mental instability for ourselves to believe. No, we deserve to believe in ourselves whole heartedly and know who we are without the world telling us who we are. Labels are outdated and categories are overrated. It's time for us to be true to ourselves and just be who we are. What is wrong with that?" Jones couldn't find the words to combat my thoughts, he only nodded with a smile as he slid his arm around me in a welcoming embrace that made his understanding clear.
Today I had a vision in my head of sitting at my favorite coffee shop and unleashing my thoughts that have been writhing inside of my mind, calling out to me to be expressed on paper. Life has been a little busy lately and I haven't gotten to sit and express deeply in so long, my heart was excited for the time that I had planned. I was going to one of my favorite places, which held beautiful views and great coffee. I counted down the days like a child counting down the days of Christmas. It started out magical. As I entered, the smell of freshly brewed coffee welcomed me. Though the morning was brisk, the sun was pouring over the views of the city as I watched from inside. Breathing in the beauty, I took a sip of the hot coffee that I held in my hands, letting the moment soothe my soul. Opening my laptop to a blank page, I was ready. A few moments passed as I began to write, my heart racing at the feeling of freeing my mind. Soon after, the business started to pick up. A kind man approached and asked me how my day was going. His smile was sincere and his eyes were inviting. I smiled back, recognizing a familiar face from the past. The first thing he asked me was about stocks, leading into the covid vaccine, and politics. I sat quietly and let him talk, never letting my smile fall, I listened intently. His colleagues arrived and it was clear that they were having a morning meeting. I ended our conversation, "Nice seeing you," and I turned back to my writing. Only it was short lived, as the shop began to fill with conversation of politics, the noise of the disagreements and opinions starting to overpower my peace. I should have brought headphones or something to block out the noise, right? Wrong. I have never been one to wear things that block out the "noise" of the world. I have always been intrigued with what's going on around me. I CHOOSE not to participate in the noise or chaos, but I can listen with an open heart, learning and growing as I take it in. Sometimes the "noise" of the world is beautiful, even if it's not what we want to hear. We are all human beings, whether we believe the same or not. Letting something destroy your peace is your choice. It took me a moment, but I jumped right back into my thoughts, and this was the result. I gained inspiration from the brief disturbance of my thoughts. My peace is my own, my thoughts are my own, my actions are my own, and what I choose everyday is up to me. I choose peace.
A Note from the Author. Dear Readers, I am sure by now, you have done your research on Google to find exactly what a Julip Tree is. I mean, we have all heard about Mint Julep's but definitely not a Julip tree. So, what is this tree that holds such meaning in the story? I'm afraid you will not find your answer on Google or anywhere in the search engines that we have available in today's world. The Julip trees are found deep within your heart. Allow me to explain. Remember seeing something as a child that threw your mind into complete enchantment and set your soul to a warm, comfortable feeling? Your eyes grew bright with wonder at the sight and your heartstrings were filled with such peace that you simply enjoyed the moment, saving it deep within. Often, I find myself thrown into a whirlwind of memories at a certain scent or familiar road that I once traveled, taking me back to that moment in time and reliving the emotions of the memory. A Julip is a memory flower that blooms artistically throughout the year. Each petal innovatively created with purpose and beauty in its own time. The petals on each flower representing milestones and memories that are made in our lives and the ones who lived before us. A strong foundation of love, trust, and hope built firmly into the roots that carry the branches of faith which hold the Julips comfortably off of the ground. The Julip Tree is an analogy that represents family. We are each petals of a Julip that blooms with time, love, and patience. Our family is the roots, each piece instilled with values and strong virtues to hold up the branches of faith that we need to carry one another above the ground. When we are in full bloom, we are content, loving and living in the moment. When we fall, it is only a memory that we leave behind. A beautiful memory.
Lately I struggle to keep my mind quiet. The world is too loud for me to hear my own thoughts. My heart feels full and content, but it doesn't feel good when all I hear is how we live in scary times. How can I have a smile spread across my face when there is so much turmoil racing through the world? I have to hold it together because if I don't who will? Besides I am a wife and a mother who is family driven and I strive to be the best example that I can be for my children, who watch me and learn from my behaviors, reactions, and decisions. The last thing I want to do is affect them negatively. They are my inspiration to be who I am and my motivation to never give up. But I'm tired. Is that okay? I am tired of the constant division in the world and trying to make sense out of it for myself in a way that I can put it into words to help my children when they ask me why a kid said something to them that they shouldn't have. I am tired of adults acting like children and teaching their children morals that aren't necessary based off of their own feelings. I am tired of adults who discourage children instead of encouraging them and building them up. Where is the positivity? Where is the love? And what happened to the easiest verse to live by, "love each other as I have loved you." I am not a perfect parent or wife, but I do believe in the power of love. I am tired of trying to put things into perspective for my children of why some of us can't get along because we don't agree with politics, religion, or whatever else the media throws our way. When our children have an argument, we are quick to separate them and figure out a resolution and an apology, but for some of us adults, we can't seem to do that. There's too much pride and too much dismissal of the other person's opinion and point of view because it doesn't match our own. We are all entitled to our own beliefs and our own opinions, I get that, obviously I am voicing my own. All I am asking for the world to do is to stop pointing fingers and only seeing from one perspective, it doesn't matter what you support or who you support-that does not define who you are as a human being in my mind. We have all been told what we think or believe is wrong at some point, and that is okay. I like to smile at those things, because they threw stones at Jesus too, but he still loved them. We can too, it's as simple as that. Grace is always worth it.