The World's Largest Wild Rice Festival

Well the reunion came and went, and dare I say it was a blustering  success!  20 years of missed conversations with great people all packed into one night.  Anna and I traveled home together sans kids and husbands- something we have not done since our ten year reunion!  Who would have thought we could have the best girls weekend away in Deer River?? (This is us being mature and fun.)


Not only was it our 20^th reunion, Deer River, Minnesota also hosted it over one of the best weekends of the year:  The World’s Largest Wild Rice Festival.  What an amazing coincidence!

Yes, in Minnesota, we have festivals around our native foods!  As kids, we always looked forward to the festivities.  Surprisingly, it took me being gone for 20 years to realize what a unique privilege this little celebration was.  Where much of the year Northerners retreat to their summer cabins on the water, or hibernate during the long winter months in their warm log homes and fireplaces, this little gem of a weekend brings EVERYONE- old and young out of the woodworks.

While the Carnival rides go on for the littles Friday evening through Sunday afternoon, Bingo games sponsored by the Lions Club go on for the older folks that are feeling a little lucky.

Friday evening is kicked off by a Turtle Feed. No this is not a place where you buy food for your pet turtle.  Mr. Turtle is the main dish for this event!  (Hide your turtles, kids!)

Next, the Leech Lake Ojibwe Tribe hosts a Pow-Wow for all to celebrate and learn about their Native American culture through song, dance, and dress.  Everyone is invited to observe and even participate.

Later, the local Vets Club sponsors the Beer Garden all night- where the darkest beer you’ll find is an amber that you can still see through- which is a sin in some countries.  On the other side of the block you can find the street shut down and the dance going on both Friday and Saturday evening.  (This is Anna with her "I don't know what to do with two beers" face.)

If you’re up and at 'em early enough the next day, Saturday is kicked off by the Wild Rice Run (race) and a bike rodeo for the kids to have a chance to win a bike and enjoy some ice cream.  This is serious business for these little guys! 

Saturday is also the big day for the flea market and this isn’t just any flea market.  Here you can find some unique gifts, such as taxidermy...

 Shotguns or rifles for hunting...

And raffles that support the local high school trip to Washington DC with a chance to win a beautiful custom-designed bon fire pit.  Though I entered, I wasn't quite sure how to haul this baby home if I was lucky enough to win.

Sunday afternoon is the big parade, where you will find true hometown pride, as we salute the veterans marching with the flag.  Additionally, we pay tribute to the other hometown heroes- the volunteer fire fighters and EMT workers of Deer River and neighboring towns.

Local businesses, student clubs, and even a princess or two can be spotted riding in the floats and on top of cars. 

All will be throwing candy out into the crowds for eager little ones to come racing into the street and fill their bags- because you can still get away with this in a small town.

And this simple festival is all the town needs for an opportunity to catch up with old friends that haven't seen each other since spring thaw.  One can sit down, enjoy an indian taco with some wild rice soup and a Bud Lite.


The weekend was a whirlwind.  I left with a full belly, sleep deprived, and mentally restored.  In addition to catching up with friends, going home to Deer River reminds me to take the time to enjoy the little pleasures in life that I tend to overlook when I am rushing around to the next big thing.  And this is why I come home.

(photo credits to Anna Lise Photography)

Veteran's Voices

 

Veterans Day is an interesting day.  Formed with all the right intentions, I can’t help but think it is also a very conflicting day for anyone who has served and has suffered loss, pain, or anger due to a multitude of circumstances.  While yes, the free meals and day of discounts are nice - are they really acts of gratitude - or are they just tax-deductable contributions for large businesses, spotlighting the sympathetic, pull-at-your-heartstrings advertisements?  Usually an idealist, I hate to sound so cynical. 

 

With these thoughts circling in my head, I decided to reach out to various veterans.  Some were old friends.  Some were wounded veterans that belong to an amazing organization that I am proud to be a part of, Shepherds for Lost Sheep.  (http://www.shepherdsforlostsheepinc.org/) I asked them how they personally felt about Veterans Day.  Did they feel honored, or did it conjure up other feelings that are often too impolite to mention?  Unintentionally, their responses moved me.

 

“No matter how screwed up I am, I’m proud, honored, and would do it all again (Jun ’87-Dec ’11)” ~Michael

 

“I don’t mind it… it is a pretty solid way to honor people who generally speaking don’t ask for much.  I however do not take part in any of the free stuff.” ~Erik

 

“I don’t know if I’d say honored, but it’s always nice to be thanked and recognized.” ~April

 

“I do believe in the power of having a good life, and that people need a day off to relax and/or party sometimes, so if you need an excuse for it, well then, call it Veterans Day if you like.  Just don’t forget on November 12^th that many of those veterans you “honored” still live in the streets.  [Many also] are getting over the stress of last night’s fireworks.  (Here in xx the fireworks are practically launched over the VA Hospital).” ~Deena

 

“[After much internal debate] I've decided to go to the [Veterans Day] ceremony.  My kids want me there and sometimes it isn't always about me.  It's about them.  Besides...Ella will be in hog heaven with all these kids petting her.”  ~Zach

 

“Personally, I value Memorial Day more than Veteran's day.  Since I've gotten out, I feel extremely uncomfortable when I am thanked and such. Why thank me? I volunteered. I knew what I was getting into.  No reason to thank me.  Show love and honor the moms and dads who lost their sons and daughters, the children who lost a mom, a dad.  The brother who lost a brother, etc.  I just wanna lead a quiet life... The real heroes never made it home. I’m just lucky. That's my pov.  It rubs people the wrong way but well, it is my view and mine alone.”  ~Andy

 

“I am honored that there is a day set aside for our veterans when everyone else can honor veterans - personally (most of y'all know how I feel) everyday is Veterans Day to me and I will keep moving forward helping my Brothers and Sisters so long as I draw breath.  I am also disgusted in this day and age of national coffee, chocolate, garlic, onion, bagel, and every other day they can dream up to make a quick $.  Yet no matter how broken I am, if I had 10,000 lives, I would live them all for my country.  I am also with Andy, Memorial Day means a lot more to me.  It's the day I honor those who didn't come home, who paid the ultimate price for our freedom.”  ~Tim

 

And then Larry spoke up.

 

“The short and long of it - whenever someone approaches me and says "thanks for your service" - I have flash backs to San Francisco International Airport, April 21, 1973.  [I was] looking good in my dress white uniform, coming back from deployment that included my "in-country" adventure, [and] looking forward to seeing Cathie.  Then 4 strangers come straight toward me and spit on my uniform as they quickly pass me.  Bottom line is "too little, too late".”  ~Larry

 

His response nearly brought me to tears.  I still cannot fathom everything this man had gone through, and then to come home to his country and be made to feel like he didn’t belong.  How did this happen?  Are we too late for the Vietnam generation?  Those veterans suffered (as all before them) for decades in silence without help, therapy, or acknowledgment for their life of sacrifice they were forced into for their country. 

 

I’m not sure when things flipped for America and when it became patriotic once again to serve your country.  I am relieved it did.  However, just like so many other historic mistakes (Indian wars, slavery, the Holocaust, etc.), we cannot change the past.  Our generation knows better and has learned from the mistakes of the past, so therefore we do better now.  But are we? 

 

Though they may not show it, so many are suffering in silence every day.  Their wounds may never heal.  As they suffer, so are their families.  Though it may bring up difficult memories for some, we must continue to honor and remember our veterans not only on Veterans Day, but every day.  Thanking them is good.  But choosing to honor a veteran is even better. 

 

How do we do this?

 

By showing respect.  Respect to those that have served, and those that have fallen.  Showing respect to our flag and what it represents.  By removing our hats when we hear the National Anthem.  By teaching our children to respect their elders, their flag, and their country.  By teaching them the Pledge of Allegiance if they don’t learn it in school.  By teaching our children to respect and thank veterans.  Volunteering at the local VA hospitals, (http://www.volunteer.va.gov) so they know that they aren’t forgotten.  And honoring those that will not be coming home.  Freedom is not free.

 

Freedom.  It sounds so simple to us, so basic, that we’ve come to take it for granted.  We do not know what the eyes of our military have seen.   They have witnessed what life is like in countries that do not have Old Glory.  They have shielded the general public from ever knowing what that kind of a life is like.  Without our veterans, we wouldn’t know what it means to have choices.  Without them, we would not be a free nation.  We must never forget this. For the sake of our veterans, and for those that never came home.   

 

 

 

 

How to Prepare for Boot Camp

Photo @MilitaryMusclesUS 

Some of the most common questions I am routinely asked are, 'Would you recommend going into the military?', or 'Would you do it all over again?'  'Do sailors really drink that much?' And finally, 'How do I prepare for boot camp?' 

My answers are yes, yes and yes... and let me think about that.  Understandably, everyone’s experience is guaranteed to be different and every branch of the military is different.  However, I have compiled a list of tasks below that I believe would benefit anyone considering entering a branch of the service.  I can only wish I would have had this valuable information before I left for Navy Basic Training.  Perhaps it may have made the transition a little easier.

1.      Begin by making your bed (with hospital corners) and cleaning your room everyday to the point in which you would be willing to lick your floor.  Then lick the floor - to make sure you’re not fooling yourself.  When you are finished cleaning, have a good friend run in and destroy it in a very dramatic fashion.  Encourage them to throw your stuff everywhere and scream that it is not clean enough.  Flip the mattress over.  Pull the clothes from the drawers and sprinkle them across the floor - just to drive the point home.  Clean your room again. 

 

2.      On a regular basis, have someone yell two inches from your face with steamy breath.  Do not make eye contact, crack a smile, nor move to wipe any droplets of saliva from your face that may shoot from their mouth at this proximity.

 

3.      Go on a strict diet of overly processed and canned foods at every meal.  As you sit down to eat, set your watch for two minutes.  Shovel as much food into your face as you can for those two minutes straight.  When the time is up, dump the rest in the garbage.  Do not eat again until the next mealtime.

 

4.      March everywhere you go in big flat-soled boots - no matter what the weather.  Run a few miles every day in your boots.  Take this opportunity to really toughen up your arches and make them stand up on their own.

 

5.      Get in the push-up position, but do not lower your body into a push-up.  Encourage your dog to do the push-up with you.  Remain holding there until your dog actually does a push-up with you.  When he does, tell him it’s not good enough and you both must start over.

 

6.      Stop watching all TV, getting on the internet or any social media sites.  Cancel your magazine subscriptions.  Get comfortable with the idea of being isolated, completely cut off from pop culture and giving a care to what the Kardashian’s are doing.

 

7.      Wear the same outfit for nine weeks.  Wash in-between wears, of course.  You are not a damn caveman.

 

8.      Set the timer for two minutes for each shower.  Buy a shampoo/conditioner mix to use as your hair shampoo, conditioner, body soap, and face soap.  Squirt it into hands and lather entire body.  Rinse, and get out.

 

9.      Sleep on top of your covers, thinking of blankets as more of accessories than necessities.  This will save time in the mornings getting ready.  It is also encouraged to sleep fully dressed.

 

10.  Eat so much chocolate and smoke so many cigarettes that you throw up and never want to look at another one again - because you won’t.

 

11.  Buy a box of safety pins.  Sprinkle them all over a sandbox.  Retrieve every single one of them.  Repeat.  Get over your fear of work - especially tedious, monotonous, and boring work.

 

12.   Start journaling, praying, or learning to be okay alone - because you may be quite lonely at times and it helps to be comfortable in your own company. 

 

13.  Finally, look at a calendar.  See how small nine weeks really is in relation to the whole year.  Now think of how small nine weeks is in relation to your entire life thus far, and how microscopic it will be in your future.  Nine weeks is miniscule in the whole big picture of our life.  The days are long, but the weeks fly by. 

 

Remember that you got this and it will be worth it all in the end.  I promise.

 

 

The 1%: Advice for joining the Navy

  

I recently received the nicest email from a reader that just made my day.  She was considering joining the military and asked me if I had any advice for her.  What was initially intended to be a few lines ended up turning into a long, rambling reply on my part.  (There goes that rambling problem of mine again.)  I only wanted to tell her what I had wished someone would have told me a long time ago.  Perhaps it would have helped prepare me a little- as I had felt quite clueless.  Then again, sometimes I wonder if I survived as a result of not knowing the long road ahead.  Ignorance is bliss?

As most already know, the military in general is not a bed of roses.  In fact, it’s going to suck.  Really badly some days.  It's not for everyone.  In fact, only 1% of the country's population raise their right hand to swear to defend and protect our constitution.  The secret to success is simple:  you have to really, really want it. 

 

Boot camp.

You will wonder what the hell you were thinking on about 250,000 occasions.  This is normal.  Keep going.

You will essentially be living out of a bag and everything you own will fit inside of it.  You will miss the comforts of home and simple pleasures in life such as walking barefoot on grass, listening to music, and eating chocolate.  Even if you aren’t religious, go to church.  It is the one place in which you will be spoken to like a human being and it will feed your soul and help you to go on.

The food will also suck, but it nourishes your body and gives you energy.  So just eat it.  But eat quickly.

You will run in boots.  They will give you blisters.  Your blister will get blisters.  But keep running.

You will do pushups until your arms shake and feel like they will fall off.  But keep doing them.  I assure you, your arms will not fall off.

People will yell at you.  You will be lonely.  So very lonely.  And you will cry.  But when you’re done crying, you will feel better.

And one day- you will graduate.  Your family will come and smile at you and it will be the proudest moment of your life. 

But then your life will keep going.  Days will suck again.  But there will be good ones too.  You will struggle and fall.  Whatever job you go into, you will develop life-long bonds with friends surrounding you that no one else will understand.  Your life will depend on these people that you work with and you will be responsible for theirs.  A trust will be formed that is unbreakable.

Most days are not very glamorous.  You will wax floors and paint ceilings.  You will scrub toilets and pick up crap.  Literally.  You may end up in Illinois, or you may see parts of the world you never knew existed.  You may see many sad things and realize how much we take for granted in our country.

You will work hard and you will play hard, probably drink too much and many occasions.  You may even fall in love.  You may get your heartbroken.
 

Your life will continue on- but you will carry a secret.  You will have this secret inside of you for the rest of your life and no matter where your life goes- if you decide to get out after one tour or if you continue to do 20 years, you will know.  You will know what it’s like to have signed a promise to do whatever it takes to protect your country and your fellow man working beside you.  You will know something that only 1% of the population knows and understands.  You will stand for something selfless- for something that is bigger than you.  You overcame these obstacles and found a strength within yourself that you will draw on for the rest of your life.  You will have served your country and therefore you know now that there isn’t anything you cannot do.

Some days you may spend scraping food into the trash, or doing paperwork.  But every now and then you will have a moment where you will be walking out to your plane, ship, or tank and realize what a magnificent machine it truly is.  You may end up saving a life or thousands of lives.  You might be a significant part of ending the war on terror.  Or save your fellow shipmates from enemy fire.  Whatever you do, do it well and with pride. 

And maybe one day when you're running through the airport trying to not miss your flight to your next duty station, someone will stop, look up at you, and say "Thank you for your service."  And you will stop.  Smile. And say, "You're welcome."  Because you will be that 1%.

Awkward Moments- Help requested.

So, elevators.
 
Recently, my company moved from the second floor onto the fourth in the building.  It was in that moment I realized just how out of shape I really was.  There is a substantial difference from walking two flights of stairs up to four flights that somehow makes one realize what a complete couch potato they really are.  I decided to swear off carbs then and there.

(I later had spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner that night and realized just how absurd and unnatural it would be it swear off carbs.)

And though the journey to the fourth floor presents its challenges, as I begin to train for the stairs there is a challenge that sits even higher on this scale:  the elevator.

One would think it a simple solution.  Take the elevator, man! 

And one would think that would be a simple solution for a simple person.  However, there is just this one problem...  I have a little thing called elevator social anxiety.  Oh yes, it's a thing.  Only- it's not a thing.  I even looked it up.  For some reason according to The Phobia List (http://phobialist.com/) there is a fear of mirrors, a fear of chopsticks, a fear of vegetables, a fear of wooden objects, and even a fear of the French culture, however there is not a fear of Elevators.  The closest they come is claustrophobia (fear of small spaces) or cleithrophobia (fear of being trapped).

http://phobias.about.com/od/phobiasatoh/f/What-Is-The-Fear-Of-Elevators.htm

So perhaps it's not so much the elevator as the social anxiety- which my friend, IS a real thing.
Though I consider myself quite outgoing and always eager to meet a new face, there is something extremely inhibiting about being in an elevator with a complete stranger.  It brings me to an all new level of awkward. 

If you recall, I cannot  CANNOT stand silence.  I find it my greatest obstacle in life to fill every silence I know of with noise and/or conversation.  So when I am alone in an elevator with someone my brain is going somewhat in overdrive.  It may sound something like this:

Say something, man. [I call myself man.  It's short for The Man or Spider Man.  Whatever I'm feeling at the time.]  Just say something.  Anything.  Oh wow.  There has been silence for even longer. You really should say something.

Me:  Hi.

Stranger:  Hi

Me:  Ugh.  I sound so ridiculous.  Maybe I could talk about the weather.
So how about that weather?

Stranger:  Um, yeah.  Pretty cold.

Me:  Right?!?  Uh, I HATE weather.  [Well, that was a way to end the conversation.  Quick, think of something new.  Food?  It's almost lunchtime!  No, they realize that.  Did I brush my teeth?  Try not to breathe too hard.  My sicknesses and ailments?  No, too personal and annoying.  Animals?  Too random.  Sports?  Oh yes, sports!  
How about football, right?

Stranger:  Excuse me? 

Me:  You know, how about football?

Stranger:  Er, football was good...  Last season.

[Note to self- pay attention to what sport is current.]

[We stand in silence again as the floors SLOWLY tick by... 2... 3....]  It's been quiet for so long now.  It's making it even weirder.  I must say something!
Me:  So do you come here often?
Really?  Ugh.

Stranger: Well, I do work here. 

[awkward silence and finally the doors open]

Stranger:  I have to go now, bye!

Me:  Bye!  Have a great day!!  Ugh...

Really, it's my own personal disaster.  As soon as I see someone headed for the elevator I will veer off into the opposite direction and head for the stairs.  It's all I can do.

I'd like to tell you that this has only happened to me once.  Or twice even.  But the horrible truth is that it is me EVERY TIME I am in an elevator.

So please, help!  I am taking a general consensus.  What do you do in an elevator?  Are elevators awkward for anyone else?  Do you make small talk?  What do you say?  Can anyone recommend some good one-liners?  Or should I just stay silent and remain awkward internally?

Liz & Me

So this one day, I met a woman of inspiration.  You may have heard her name before.  Elizabeth Gilbert.  She wrote this little book called Eat Pray Love.  I think it maybe sold a few copies in a few countries...went on to become a Hollywood blockbuster staring an academy award winning actress.

I just happen to be checking her website last week (investigating author websites ideas) and randomly discovered that she was going to be at a synagogue here in DC to do a book signing/reading.  I jumped at the opportunity and dragged my very pregnant sister (the crazy one) along with me.  We arrived right as the doors opened and patiently waited an hour in our fabulous 4th row seats to listen to Liz.  And when she finally began, it was amazing.  She was not only full of great advice, but she was funny, witty, and kind.  And she said a few swear words which made me like her even more.

At one point, she looked at me square in the eyes and told me it was time to get off my procrastinating ass and write something already.  Dummy.  Or in some words along those lines.  And perhaps it wasn't specifically directed to me- but it was the resounding message that filled the holy air of the hundred year-old synagogue that night.

It is true that I had come up with every excuse possible in my head.  I can't write right now, I need to clean the house.  I need to do laundry.  I need to go to work.  I'm too tired to think.  The kids need me.  I should drink wine with my friends.  I should spend hours on facebook and randomly check my email because at the end of the day that always makes me feel so accomplished.  Not quite.

So (standby- I'm going to make this about everyone now instead of just me) if writing (or whatever your true passion is) is what makes you feel complete, why do we procrastinate doing it?  Why do we put off the hard work, the challenging stuff, the painful exercise even when we feel so great afterward?   

Is it just because we are lazy?  Because we have to think too hard?

Or is it because we feel like we've already failed so it's not worth the effort.  Have a candy bar because that's easier and much more comforting.  Watch TV because it loves you back.  It's mindless and easy.

I have literally been procrastinating for so long now because I have gotten to a point where people (a very small amount I might add) are actually reading what I have to say.  Before I was writing for myself.  Somewhere in there I got an audience and it freaked me out and I began trying to think of what they want to hear vs why I started writing in the first place.  I've begun to throw ideas aside and listen to the voice that tells me over and over it's not good enough anymore.  So much that it has backed me into a corner where I lie in the fetal position every night and do nothing but rock back and forth.  Okay, I'm being a little over dramatic now.  But that's what it feels like as I DVR every new show that has come out this fall and spend every free second screening them and eating nachos- because I 'have' to watch these shows.

Well, Liz told me it's time to get up and do something- something that's been burning a hole inside of me.  The muse nagging and haunting my waking moments.  Put myself out there- even if the world hates it.

Enough already.  Time to write.  Time to exercise.  Time to jump off that cliff- to stop making excuses and put ourselves out there.  We will never please everyone- we must accept that.  The time has come... well, after one more quick episode of New Girl, that is.  But then- then it will be time!! 

Random Thoughts #507: Why I should Eat More Salads.

It all started one night as a nagging thought entered my head and refused to leave.  The more I tried to extinguish it, the more it insisted on pushing through.  My strange realization:  It seems that every time I casually pass by my basil plant I seriously considered taking a bite off of it.

I know.  I know.  That's just weird, you're thinking.

And it's true.  I'm pretty sure that's quite weird. 

I've decided it all must have stemmed from this,"You must eat salads" talk that has me so confused and taste buds downright frustrated.

The other night I dined on a barbecued chicken thigh for dinner topped off with a glass of white wine.  And it was amazing.

It was a night in which I truly listened to what my body was telling me to eat.  Meat and alcohol.  It doesn't get much more primitive than that.  Perhaps that is the real "caveman diet".  What more does one need?

Well, apparently basil.  Because as I was washing my face, getting ready for bed, I glanced over my shoulder as one does- just as they do in the commercials, swinging one's hair from side to side.  It was then that I saw it.  The basil herb plant that was resting ever so peacefully in my bathroom windowsill.
 
"Go ahead," she beckoned.  I'm sure it's a female plant.  "Try me.  Just one little leaf.  No one will know," Mrs. Basil insisted.

I began to feel awkward.  My basil plant was taunting me like an adolescent girl with a pack of cigarettes in the bathroom.  The pressure was more than I could handle.

Naturally, I did not want to be rude.  And yet, it still felt weird to just rip off one of those tiny, succulent leaves and start gnawing away on it.

After this went on for a while, I finally decided enough was enough.  I turned my back from my plant and continued to brush my teeth, ignoring the enticements.

No.  I would not be eating basil tonight.

That would, after all, just be weird.

However, it was in that moment of clarity that I also concluded that it just may be time to introduce some more "greens" into my life.  Perhaps I shall start with spinach.  It seems less pushy and a much better personality.

If You Dig It, They Will Come: How to Catch a Man.

Since the beginning of time, women have always had what is believed to be "traditional" places to find a man.  A bar.  A club.  Church.  Sporting events.  The gym. Iceland.

And while all of these "traditional" locations generally prove to produce positive results, there is a deep secret that not many in our modern society know.  It is a method that has been proven so successful- it has been kept on the down-low for centuries.  However, I am here today to reveal this secret.  Are you ready for it?

If you want to catch a man... you must dig a hole.

Yes, I said a hole.

What kind of hole?

Most any hole will do, however, it has been determined that the larger and more complex your hole, the better your luck.  Additionally, your success in catching a man will not only depend on the magnitude of this hole, but the location as well.

Sound crazy?  Perhaps.  So crazy, in fact, it works.

Observe:  Any time there is a hole, one can be guaranteed to spot men congregating.   It is true.  No one is quite sure why this phenomenon happens.  Many scientific studies have been performed to determine the cause.  However, when it comes down to it- the answer is simple.  Men are drawn to holes.  Men cannot resist investigating a hole.  A hole is the perfect location for a socializing affair.

In many cases one man will be observed digging the hole, while other men randomly stand by and watch.  In their minds they are working just as hard as the digger- by keeping him entertained, and every so often throwing out helpful suggestions to the man digging. 

And so to my single lady readers- you now know what you need to do.  Find a busy location in which men frequently pass.  Begin digging a hole.  Give it some time, and before you know it, I guarantee men will come.  Though I cannot promise you that the men that come will necessarily be your dream men, or that you will not be arrested, but you will, in fact, meet a man.  Or several.

Happy digging.  And if it so happens that you meet the man of your dreams, well a simple thank you is all that I need.  Or thank you diamonds.  Diamonds are always a good way to show your appreciation.

Art Inspirations: Christmas Carols

I am a Christmas junkie.  It may be possible that I can even get a little ridiculous sometimes.  However, I do follow all of the rules!  I never utter the word 'Christmas' until the day after Thanksgiving.  I promptly take down all of my decorations no later than January 1st.  

However, between Black Friday and New Years Eve- I allow myself to indulge in decorating, writing Christmas cards, drinking eggnog and peppermint mochas, and listening to Christmas music.  Constantly.  Yes, for a complete 33 days my radio plays nothing but yule tide carols being sung by a choir.

Now these Christmas carols have been played over and over for generation upon generation.  The same 50 songs have been remade and re-recorded by every artist known.  Every pop star seems to be required to make their own version of a Christmas album with traditional songs that hit every possible  musical note  and ad libs that one can dream up.  And though each has a slight variation, they all cling to an idea.

As everyone, I have my favorites.   

However, there is one song that can literally bring me to tears every time I hear it.  Tears of joy when performed properly.  Tears of pain when it is butchered by a well-intended lady singing in church on Christmas Eve.  

Every Christmas Eve we attend the mandatory church service.  (Mandatory in my own head.) We listen as  we clutch our candles and try to follow along in the hymnal.  Soon, candle wax drips past our knuckles.  It hurts, I won't lie, but we press on.

Then suddenly, the clouds part and they begin to sing Oh Holy Night.  (people- not the clouds)  Everyone stops and listens.  Moved into an abyss, we no longer feel the pain of hot wax.  

Next time you hear this song- I ask you to really listen to every note.  Hopefully you'll hit one of the good versions.  Whomever wrote this song was a musical genius.   A genius I say!  They had the power to truly capture the moment.  When I listen to the song, I actually feel the power of the night that the Savior was born.  I'm there.  What talent to have captured that.

Another stroke of genius is The Trans-Siberian Orchestra.  If you've never been to one of their concerts- I would highly recommend it.  And I don't recommend a lot of things.  Okay, that's a lie.  But there is something incredible about this musical revelation.  What they have done to our traditional sounds of Christmas has carried them to the 21st century on a 737 vice a camel.  Incredible.

Finally, there is just one other song that holds that kind of power.  It is our National Anthem.  Francis Scott Key was so eloquently able to echo his undying love for his country in the simple words and music that compose the most important song to Americans.  In it, I can actually feel his pride and patriotism.  I get goosebumps.  And I am moved.  I suddenly want to drive a tank, jump out of a plane, and fly Old Glory from the highest mountain.  In that order.

Art continues to amaze me. The perfect story.  The perfect song.  A captivating painting or photo.  A sculpture.  It can change people.  It can move mountains.  It can be passed on for generations and not to lose- but only improve it's meaning and power to all that will listen with an open heart.
 
What part of art captivates you?  In what way does it do that?

Blessings in Disguise

As the Thanksgiving holiday quickly approaches, we all tend to use this season as a reminder to reflect on what we are truly thankful for in our lives.

Often the answers are obvious and universal:  family, food, and shelter.  The desires that unite all humans everywhere in every culture.

But what about the blessings that aren't so obvious?  The ones that come upon us as a camouflaged surprise?  The ones that we may not recognize as a blessing right away- or even for quite a while.  It may take many years until we can look back and really see what a blessing in disguise that it was.

The loss of a job-- only to have been given that opportunity to finally start up the career you've always dreamed of- not just the one you ended up in.

Your alarm not going off-- only to find that you avoided a horrible accident on the way to work.

A terrible break-up-- only to later find the person of your dreams- the one that you really should have been with all along.  The one that makes all of the heartaches along the journey completely worth it.

They are everywhere- big and small.  Any unpredicted, unplanned happenstance that you just don't know if you have the strength to survive- only to find you end in a much better place as a result.

My best blessing in disguise:  My little girl.  I already had two wonderful children which fulfilled our home completely.  Then one day I found out I was pregnant again.  (Still unsure how that happened??)  For a planner like myself- I did not know how to handle it.  I calculated everything in my life.  Now, I found myself having to re-write all of my future plans.  It took me many months to accept this.

And then my baby was born- and I suddenly couldn't remember life before her.  She is a beautiful butterfly that leaves a trail of happiness everywhere that she goes.  She lights up a room and touches hearts.  I could not imagine our family without this addition- our little blessing in disguise.

So for this holiday season ahead, I challenge you to try to embrace the hardships- even the little annoyances that we encounter on a daily basis. Try to trust that there is a plan for all of this somewhere.  Somewhere, it is really a blessing.


What are some of your blessings in disguise??