tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70708994349816640082024-03-14T04:39:36.945-07:00Live Art.fullyJenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.comBlogger249125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-22943997124933180342019-02-03T15:44:00.004-08:002019-02-03T16:38:59.327-08:00Brave Love: Book Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbt8Tf6nfwWZoAneQvC1ml7ob_9ppFivIuHEtGZ4wAv7X7-vuh9CApcfJBimugierGbcuNMfWWKH1OKr-XgmNKbT6cW9IGzV2-4ZaRWhYzjdnydTbgBs6NUr2RPK07lIA9gbo9YsmCRA/s1600/IMG_6686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbt8Tf6nfwWZoAneQvC1ml7ob_9ppFivIuHEtGZ4wAv7X7-vuh9CApcfJBimugierGbcuNMfWWKH1OKr-XgmNKbT6cW9IGzV2-4ZaRWhYzjdnydTbgBs6NUr2RPK07lIA9gbo9YsmCRA/s320/IMG_6686.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #181818; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I have followed <a href="http://lisaleonard.com/">Lisa Leonard</a> online for almost a decade. I have loved getting to know their family through pictures, social media, and Lisa's blog, and getting a peek into their lives growing a business and raising their sons David and Matthias. David was born with Cornelia de Lange syndrome, and has multiple disabilities.</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #181818; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #181818; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #181818; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Lisa's heart has always shone brightly through her jewelry designs and blog posts, so when I first heard about this book, written in a memoir style, I couldn't wait to read it, and joined the launch team.</span><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #181818; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #181818; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #181818; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Lisa opens her heart with such grace and vulnerability in her writing. BRAVE LOVE tells her life story; from putting her needs and wants last to learning to do the work of making space for herself in her work, her marriage, and her motherhood.<br /></span><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><sub style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><sup style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><strike style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></strike></sup></sub></i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1TXUhe5JO-Z59KCmp1igbGfv8zBGb1Qz-fKQhoc-gBpfHPjKHptJnh0fUnEivgbcNfLk57nYduw7mynasoevsHketWW9-xkH9Kp-pYY4zxIhXHfsB9fgapn_033HHGAQNeyF7ziDgeU/s1600/image3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1TXUhe5JO-Z59KCmp1igbGfv8zBGb1Qz-fKQhoc-gBpfHPjKHptJnh0fUnEivgbcNfLk57nYduw7mynasoevsHketWW9-xkH9Kp-pYY4zxIhXHfsB9fgapn_033HHGAQNeyF7ziDgeU/s320/image3.jpeg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #181818; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I truly believe this book will save marriages and change lives. Recommended especially for those who struggle with taking up space in the world and putting their needs on equal footing with others'.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #181818; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #181818; display: inline; float: none; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 21px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">I was deeply moved by Lisa's disarming honesty, and proud to serve on the Brave Love launch team. I received a free advance copy by the publisher; all thoughts and opinions are my own.<br /><br />Brave Love released January 29th. You can order it on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or find it wherever books are sold.</span></span></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-34841993581144779882015-12-30T15:32:00.000-08:002016-01-06T16:11:07.382-08:00Choose Joy: Book Review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Getting to know Sara through </span><a href="http://www.gitzengirl.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">her blog</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> changed my life. We
were both bloggers in our 30s when we met in 2009. I was captivated by her
bouncy red curls and her infectious spirit. Faith was another thread that wove
us together. At the time, Sara was living with Ankylosing Spondylitis, a
chronic inflammatory disease that attacks the spine and joints, and I was being
tested for it. She was gracious to reach out to me during that time. Over the
following couple of years, I was diagnosed and both of us experienced worsening
pain and quality of life. There were many nights of severe pain, when I would
lie awake in bed and re-read her blog posts. Sara was one of two bloggers
living with severe health problems and pain that inspired me to adopt an
attitude of joy, gratitude and positivity. I credit Sara with showing me how to
live life with a debilitating, painful health condition with no cure. Joy has
been as much a part of my toolkit as any treatment program. I firmly believe
that without knowing Sara and reading her blog, my life with AS wouldn’t have
been as manageable as it has been. <br></span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sara passed away from complications in 2011 and I grieved
along with so many others who knew her. A light went out when she died, but her
candle of joy had lit so many others’ that her legacy has created a glow that
burns brightly still.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That’s why I was so thrilled when I heard that Mary Carver,
another of Sara’s blogging friends, was working with Sara’s family to put
together a book of Sara’s writings. It was titled in tribute to Sara’s motto:
Choose Joy! I knew this book would help continue to spread Sara’s remarkable
legacy of choosing joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have no words to express how thankful I am to Mary for
putting this book together. Putting Sara’s blog posts into book form, while not
taking over the spotlight, must have been no easy task, but Mary masterfully
pieced her own thoughts, explanations, and transitions together with Sara’s words
in a way that only highlights Sara’s writing voice. I was privileged to be part
of the Choose Joy Book Launch Team and receive a copy of Choose Joy to read in
advance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Faith was a big part of Sara’s life and outlook, and as
such, references to Heaven, God, and an eternal perspective are woven
throughout Sara’s book. Whether you are religious or not, I think reading
Choose Joy can be a deeply life-altering experience that will leave the reader
thoughtful for some time to come. </span></div><div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Although Sara’s circumstances were extreme, I
believe anyone going through challenging things (be it illness, pain,
isolation, loneliness, or loss) will benefit from Sara’s words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">You may very
well find your perspective changed for the better from reading this book. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Choose Joy: Finding Hope and Purpose When Life Hurts by Sara Frankl and Mary Carver releases next week, Tuesday, January 5, 2016 from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other booksellers. You can pre-order the Hardcover or Kindle versions on Amazon now </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Choose-Joy-Finding-Purpose-Hurts/dp/1455562815/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1451517683&sr=8-1-spell&keywords=chose+joy+sara+frankl"><span style="font-family: inherit;">here</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">.<br><br>For more information on the book, you can go to the </span><a href="http://www.choosejoybook.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Choose Joy Book site</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></div>
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<br>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-50557047077357923532015-11-17T22:15:00.001-08:002016-01-04T20:02:41.187-08:00Stronger<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">'ve been silent for far too long on this blog. 2014 was a year of crisis for our family. It's a very long story, and I don't have the heart to tell it at this time, but we are well now, and spending 2015 rebuilding and becoming Stronger (my word for 2015). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm learning to live my best life with a couple of new diagnoses. But I am being completely honest when I tell you I'm doing better than I've been in years. And I'm so grateful. I've been wanting to write again and I have some really exciting things to share, but first I had to construct a little bridge from where I left my blog in early 2014 (before the bottom dropped out of my life) to now. If you're still subscribed after all this time, thank you for sticking around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll be back soon with new content that reflects my Stronger, joy-filled, artistic adventures of late. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you're in a dark place right now, I'd love to encourage you that this is just one chapter of your life. Things can look so dark and bleak and you may think that your life is ending. Please hang on and know that a new chapter is coming. And it may just be the best one yet. The one you will look back and remember as a favorite. You're writing your story, and it's not over. Adventures await!</span> </div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-26435088608889726212014-02-17T03:19:00.004-08:002014-02-17T10:44:23.834-08:00A Stiff Upper Lip: Denial, Grief, and Acceptance of Chronic Disease<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been over half my life since I first began having pain walking. I was 17 and a junior in high school. I credited to my hips but didn't think to wonder why a teenager would be having trouble walking. I chalked it up to too much exercise. I didn't see a doctor. I didn't think it might be a sign of something to come that would effect my mobility. My mobility was being effected but I didn't even think of it that way. Denial?<br />
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We had Ankylosing Spondylitis in our family. I knew it was arthritis and it effected the spine, but that was about all I knew. I didn't know it was a chronic inflammatory disease. I didn't know it was systemic and could effect your organs as well as your joints. I didn't even know it could harm your eyes or your hands.<br />
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I did not for a second put our family history of AS and my hip pain together.<br />
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It's been over half my life since my first symptom of AS. It's been 8 years -- I can't believe that -- since I began having a lot of pain. It's been about 7 years since I started waking with a stiff lower spine, 4.5 years since my oldest was in Kindergarten and I had my first of what I think of as a general autoimmune flare -- crushing fatigue, fever, swelling, nausea, and a general feeling of illness along with the pain, stiffness, and occasional limping.<br />
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I remember the days of waking feeling like I needed WD-40, and how I knew a hot shower and a couple of Ibuprofen would relieve my symptoms greatly. How much life has changed since then...<br />
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When I was in the process of being worked up for diagnosis -- was it Lupus, they wondered, Rheumatoid Arthritis; yes, they acquiesced, it <i>could</i> be Ankylosing Spondylitis since I had family history, but "that wasn't as common in women" -- I read blogs of women living with severe pain and medical difficulty. I was inspired and determined that I would be that kind of woman. I would be as positive as I could be, I would shine, I would move forward in a way that would inspire other people. By the time a rheumatologist confirmed my primary doctor's suspicions of AS, I was already certain I had it, and basically walked out of his office and forward into a life of <i>Positive & Inspiring</i>. That was what mattered to me, that I could help others know they weren't alone, that I could show how to live life in a positive, joyful way, even in the midst of pain and with a disease that often disables and disfigures.<br />
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It's been 3.5 years since diagnosis, and 1.5 years since a Spondyloarthropathy specialist told me that I have a full blown case of Ankylosing Spondylitis. Last year, still another rheumatologist told me I have a severe case of AS.<br />
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It's been on my mind a lot recently, the severity of this disease. How it hurts and cripples people-- people I've met online and in person, people I call my friends. I know people who've had spinal surgeries, hip replacements, people who are essentially homebound. I know people who have organ involvement, eye damage, who need all sorts of mobility aids including wheelchairs to get around. I know young people who have died of organ complications to AS, and to suicide.<br />
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The pain, physical and emotional, can be unimaginable.<br />
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Sometimes it feels like I have only allowed myself to be an advocate for those people. For everyone else with AS. Sometimes it feels like I have only thought of them fusing, of their necks curving and their heads being permanently locked into a forward stoop.<br />
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This disease is not a joke. Part of how I can move forward in a positive manner is accepting that reality. This is real and it has been life changing. More life changing than most people realize.<br />
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I am working on starting to allow myself to feel sad about that. Not just grateful despite the disease. Not just thankful it hasn't yet effected others who I share genes with. I won't wallow. But I do need to process and grieve how my life is effected, how my family is effected, and that my future will be effected by a genetic, chronic, systemic, arthritic, degenerative and progressive disease.<br />
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That's not wallowing. That's just moving out of denial and into acceptance. Acceptance is acknowledgement, and that can free us to move forward. Acceptance is not giving up, or giving in, or refusing to fight.<br />
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"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." {Reinhold Niebuhr}Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-86944463212947401872014-01-24T02:46:00.000-08:002014-01-24T02:46:06.660-08:00Nature Journaling & Adventure-Based Learning<ctr></ctr><br />
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I thought I'd give you a peek into our homeschooling life by sharing intermittent posts on various ways we're learning. Hopefully this post will interest those who journal or would like to journal, and those who homeschool. For those who are new to Live Art.fully, I homeschool our two daughters who have recently turned ten and seven years old. </div>
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Yesterday dawned sunny again in the Pacific Northwest (it's been beautiful lately, an uncharacteristically warm and dry winter). I had a bee in my bonnet to take my girls out on an adventure. We've been doing this lately and I'm loving it. We pack a jacket, mittens, simple lunch (cheese sandwiches, water bottles, and yogurt, for example), sketch books and paints, and off we go somewhere fabulous. </div>
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This is our fourth year learning at home and I feel like this year we've turned a corner in terms of finding our niche. I'm learning how my girls learn best, and what makes and keeps me inspired. I've found new ways to prevent burn-out for all of us, and how to use my creativity to make learning fun. </div>
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Yesterday we took our sketchbooks to a nearby nature trail. We ate our picnic of bread and cheese, blueberries, juice, and cookies at a picnic table under a sky my 7 year-old described as "neon blue." My 10 year-old disagreed with her sister, stating that it was not neon, just blue. Little sister explained that it was neon if you were wearing sunglasses.</div>
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After munching our picnic, the girls ran off nearby to explore and I set to work in my journal after finding a few nature treasures to sketch. Given the time of year, it took a bit more looking and creativity than it might in other seasons. There were no birds, butterflies, eggs, nests, feathers, or flowers.</div>
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Sketching under neon blue sky, with warm sun and still-crisp January air, it was quite easy to feel inspired. The girls chattered about how much fun they were having and even toyed with skipping ballet class, in favor of extending our nature time, but in the end we packed it up and delivered our dancer to the studio.</div>
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Something I've noticed about our nature-based learning adventures is that they leave us invigorated and curious to know more. Post ballet, we hit the library to look for books on nature journaling, and keeping a nature/field sketchbook. I found a great children's book on John James Audubon, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Boy-Who-Drew-Birds/dp/0618243437/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1390558173&sr=8-1&keywords=the+boy+who+drew+birds">The Boy Who Drew Birds</a>. </div>
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Nature journaling is a new form of journaling for me, and something I'm planning to incorporate into our outdoor learning adventures & field trips in the coming months. I'm excited to get these little watercolor sketches into my journal, and to see my girls document what they're observing in the natural world. What better way to slow down long enough to truly see?</div>
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-69104326023609906232014-01-01T17:33:00.000-08:002014-01-01T17:47:32.350-08:00Introducing.... My Word of Intention 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>"If I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have the capacity at the beginning."</i></div>
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<i> {Mahatma Ghandi}</i></div>
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I've been thinking about my word for this year for probably six weeks, and it's been one of the main things on my mind recently. To be honest, where RECLAIM arrived whole and perfect last year, this year's word plagued me. Starting about last summer a word had fluttered into my life and landed... and that word, OVERCOME, was one that almost became my word this year. But I just wasn't quite certain. Another word almost made it: CLIMB. A word that would represent the daily journey of struggling, effort, perseverance, and the beauty waiting when we don't give up. </div>
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But it wasn't as pretty a word as I wanted. And though it represented, for me personally, an intangible mental process I take on every day, I knew that by itself, it wasn't as self-explanatory as I might want.</div>
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<i>"As is our confidence, so is our capacity." {William Hazlitt}</i></div>
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And then yesterday, when I was still engaged in the wrestling process of words, this word came to me...</div>
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<b style="font-size: xx-large;">CAPACITY</b></div>
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<i>"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will." {Mahatma Ghandi}</i></div>
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CAPACITY excited me, inspired me, and empowered me, and it did so on a day I am struggling with bronchitis/pneumonia. That was a litmus test for me -- as physical struggle is a regular part of my life, I need a word that will push and carry and comfort me on the bad days as well as the days that I feel I am capable on my own.</div>
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CAPACITY. To sum it up in five words, to me it means "I have what it takes."</div>
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It represents the infinite ability within us all -- to love, to be loved, to imagine and create, to build and invent, to grow, change, achieve, and yes, OVERCOME obstacles.</div>
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In the daily climb, CAPACITY is the mental fortitude to press on when legs throb. It is mind over matter. It is being Brave Enough. It is Doing it Anyway.</div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white;">"The ultimate creative capacity of the brain may be, for all practical purposes, infinite." {George Leonard}</span></i></div>
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But I also needed a word that could mean finite. That wouldn't feel bossy when I needed the ability to be gracious with myself. When I need to rest more than press on. </div>
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CAPACITY: maxed out. </div>
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In these instances, CAPACITY will serve to remind me that while I may not have the physical capacity today, I will have it another day. </div>
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I'm excited to see what CAPACITY and I can do together this year. Some of the specific things I want to be intentional about this year are using my words more. I didn't read or write much at all in 2013, and as a writer who was first a voracious reader, that doesn't speak well to me being my best self, on a soul level. I want to use my words to inspire and encourage people. I want my words to elevate and uplift, not to harm.</div>
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I see the capacity in YOU and I hope you let your potential take you places this year!</div>
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<i>"You are beautiful. Your beauty, just like your capacity for life, happiness, and success, is immeasurable." {Steve Maraboli}</i></div>
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<i><b>What is YOUR word this year?</b></i></div>
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-5791719164627284582014-01-01T14:35:00.003-08:002014-01-01T14:35:51.564-08:00She Chose to Be Brave, Take Risks.... Fly!<br />
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I created this art journaling spread to commemorate a risk I took. I wanted to remind myself that sometimes change is not just good, but necessary, that sometimes there are great things waiting on the other side of courage.</div>
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What I've learned is that sometimes it takes risking your life to save your life. </div>
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<b>Have you ever taken a risk that proved to be invaluable?</b></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-33236336687001374052013-11-05T15:17:00.002-08:002013-11-05T15:18:28.059-08:00Soar Like Eagles<br />
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-55353683946083253232013-11-05T15:12:00.000-08:002013-11-05T15:12:06.644-08:00Steamed Milk & Second Chances<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Very little matters to me at the end of each day and the end of this life, if my girls don't know and feel, clear to the cellular level of their beings, that I love them. If there was a way to genetically imprint this message into their DNA, I would. </span></div>
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I LOVE YOU. </div>
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Sometimes things happen and maybe it's as inconsequential as a rainy Monday when the errands didn't go right and I end up in tears wh<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">en we get home. Maybe it's bigger and I vent frustration, and while my words are accurate, the timing or the delivery misses the mark and a little girl gets tucked into a warm bed -- safe, fed, yet short on the connection she's come to cherish in our relationship.</span></div>
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It was a night like that, after a rainy Monday like that.</div>
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I closed their bedroom doors, and went to rest, somewhere past the point of totally exhausted. I put them to bed early because after a rainy Monday when you're past the point of totally exhausted, it's the easiest thing to do. </div>
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But kids are just like adults, in that when things aren't right with their relationships, it can be hard to sleep.</div>
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Daughter #1 made a valiant effort -- lying quietly in her bed long past when I thought she was for sure asleep. Long past the point that Daughter #2 had been allowed back up for snuggles with the mama-with-the-half-mast-eyes. </div>
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There might have been a bit of classic Winnie the Pooh on DVD in the big bed. </div>
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I was ready to send them back to bed when I heard a little voice say, "I hate to tell you this, Mommy, but I'm hungry."</div>
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....deep breath....</div>
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We went back to the kitchen. Sat back down at the wooden table inherited from my paternal grandma. Two little girls in pajamas, one holding a doll, one, a bunny, both of which are well-loved to the point of Real.</div>
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My legs throbbed from referred spinal pain. It felt more like 2 a.m. than 10 p.m. </div>
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I got out the toaster. </div>
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A gallon of milk.</div>
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Two small glass tea plates.</div>
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Something in my spirit shifted, and I set about making a little late-night snack of cranberry-orange toast and warm vanilla milk.</div>
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I told them memories of visiting my maternal grandma and how she would heat milk for me to sip before we turned in.</div>
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Their sweet faces brightened, and their eyes began to glaze with dreaminess as they munched their toast spread with cream cheese, and drank their cobalt mugs of steaming milk.</div>
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At that moment, I knew this was the right way to parent. This night, for these girls, these hearts. The right way to love them was to send them to bed with hearts dosed full with love and nostalgia, warm, full tummies, and snuggles in the rocking recliner.</div>
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I'm grateful for the times when bad days get second chances, and second bedtimes lead to sweet dreams.</div>
</span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-72453347158296255452013-10-11T15:39:00.006-07:002013-10-11T15:40:08.162-07:00Five Minute Friday: Ordinary<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Five Minute Friday" src="http://lisajobaker.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/5minutefriday.jpg" style="border: none;" title="Five Minute Friday" />
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I love the ordinary. While others derive pleasure from planning the next trip or event, I long for the simple and routine. I love the ordinary snatches of everyday life.<br />
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Stirring another pot of steel cut oatmeal (or "Bunny Kibble," as Natalie has dubbed it).<br />
Folding another load of warm laundry.<br />
Another six minute drive to dance.<br />
Reading the next chapter of Charlotte's Web before bed.<br />
Hitting the start button on the dishwasher.<br />
Tucking her in with a prayer to the sound of Hidden in my Heart lullabies.<br />
Washing those thick pink ballet tights again.<br />
Writing another blog post and putting clean sheets on the bed weekly.<br />
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When we lose those we love, the ordinary is amplified to extraordinary. Every memory including them is more special, more treasured.<br />
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This year I lost my sweet Auntie to terminal cancer. She was 58. And all of the ordinary weekends we spent together, the ordinary drives, and ordinary meals around an inherited table, have become the most precious of recollections.<br />
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Loving the ordinary is a way we can love God -- to give weight and gratitude for every moment. To truly recognize the gift that is in the 24/7 of this life. I love the ordinary because it lives in the extra{ordinary}.<br />
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<b>STOP</b><br />
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<a href="http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/">Five Minute Friday</a> is a weekly writing exercise hosted by Lisa-Jo Baker. Set a timer and write for five minutes without stopping and without editing, then link up with <a href="http://lisajobaker.com/">Lisa-Jo</a>.<br />
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<br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-14742248044260324972013-09-23T14:31:00.004-07:002013-09-23T14:32:58.214-07:00Hello First Fall Monday!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just a quick little post today to say hello to Monday and the week. I'm linking up with Lisa Leonard from Lisa Leonard Designs. Do you know Lisa? Lisa is mom to two boys, wife to Steve, lives in Cali and is a jewelry designer, photographer, and all around creative. Love her blog. <a href="http://www.lisaleonardonline.com/blog/">Go visit!</a><br />
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Hello Monday!<br />
Hello steel cut oatmeal with brown sugar, cinnamon & cream<br />
Hello coffee in my Penguin Books mug<br />
Hello Peppermint Mocha creamer (YAY, it's that time of year!)<br />
Hello getting the laundry going<br />
Hello costochondritis<br />
Hello doing math with my 6 year-old<br />
Hello getting organized for the week<br />
Hello still-in-my-pjs-at-2-pm<br />
Hello first week of Fall<br />
Hello Fall TV premiere week!<br />
Hello rain, I've missed you...<br />
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What's your Monday holding? I'd love to hear. Share in the comments, or jump in and link up with Lisa.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-38662997298220336132013-09-22T19:03:00.000-07:002013-09-24T14:49:06.066-07:00Changing Seasons: Transitioning to Life with Chronic Disease<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Three years ago today, September 22, 2010, I received my official AS diagnosis. I had a 'probable' diagnosis a few months before that from my primary doctor. But it was 9/22/10 that I spent two solid hours with a rheumatologist and heard the words "I am diagnosing you with Ankylosing Spondylitis." It wasn't a shock. If anything, on that day, I just felt relief. That may sound strange -- to be relieved to hear confirmation that you have a life-changing disease -- but I've heard the same sentiment expressed by many others with chronic diseases. The unknowns are hard. It's nice to just know.<br />
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It was chilly enough last night to slip on my flannel penguin pajamas, a pair I don't wear during the summer because they're too warm. I went to bed with it Summer and woke up to Fall.<br />
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That's a bit how life felt when I developed this genetic, chronic inflammatory disease that attacks the spine and joints, and can also pounce on eyes and internal organs, cause fevers and pronounced fatigue.<br />
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Life, unencroached upon by chronic disease, is somewhat like Summer. The weather's more predictable, you can get out more, you don't get 'rained in' by symptoms that weren't forecasted. You don't need as much gear to brave the elements.<br />
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But just like fall, with its rainy days by the fire and long crisp nights to go on hayrides and watch football games and go for walks in the crunchy, colorful leaves, life with chronic illness can hold beauty. It may be a different beauty than pre-diagnosis "summer" beauty, but it's beauty just the same.<br />
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Adjusting to life with a chronic disease can throw you for a loop. People grapple with depression, reinventing themselves, doubts and fear about their futures, and even, at times, despair. In my three years of being an official "Spondy", I've personally known of three others who have died at a young age: two to AS-related organ complications, and one to suicide.<br />
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I guarantee that unless you have such a disease or are very close to someone living with one, you don't know the half of what life is like post-diagnosis.<br />
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Being a "fall" kind of person to begin with (someone who enjoys writing, reading, and a more indoor, home-based lifestyle), perhaps I'm better suited for this type of diagnosis. I think of people who love being outdoors and pushing the adrenaline envelope, and I'm truly grateful that no part of my essential self is tied to activities I can no longer pursue. If one may end up in a wheelchair, using a cane, or undergoing hip replacement surgery, wouldn't it be better for a writer than a racer?<br />
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Seasons change. My life is altered by chronic disease. I'm still learning and growing as a person living with AS.<br />
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Stand tall and walk on, even if you have to limp. Life goes on and it is beautiful, even with its storms.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-28251573410093209482013-09-20T19:27:00.000-07:002013-09-20T19:27:27.297-07:00Q&A: Creating an Artful Life with Kids<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIq7la1rh9KdVLjUHCgW6dxZ9Lf4XsIWFu4vZZVGhdtNC8ykfOccZFpjrI3VlgDVf3_Hs1rKPEmCTbzLz37CzGd3QVUG6hm0OQAEUedjRuoPxDr0B0h5DKkO6ggZ7eN6eHtVZE4m8Kr7c/s640/blogger-image--1343882242.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIq7la1rh9KdVLjUHCgW6dxZ9Lf4XsIWFu4vZZVGhdtNC8ykfOccZFpjrI3VlgDVf3_Hs1rKPEmCTbzLz37CzGd3QVUG6hm0OQAEUedjRuoPxDr0B0h5DKkO6ggZ7eN6eHtVZE4m8Kr7c/s400/blogger-image--1343882242.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;">Months ago, I received an email from a friend. With her permission, I've posted part of it here:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;"><b>Q:</b> <i>"</i></span><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;">I love the pictures you post of you and your girls doing artistic, fun things together. I love seeing what your daughters come up with, and how creative they are, just like their mama. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;">The reason I'm writing you is because I want help. Lol! I want to know how you started being creative with your kids, how old they were when you taught them how to journal and create with various media, and how you encourage artistic creativity without feeling like you're forcing an ideal upon them.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;"><i>I want to be creative with my girls. I want them to get the chance, from a young age, to draw, trace, paint, colour, write, sketch, or whatever. I want them to have the chance to ENJOY art. Because I don't know how to approach something I'm not good at. </i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;"><i>Any suggestions/advice/tips? Thanks for your time."</i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; line-height: 13.999999046325684px;"><b>A:</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">First of all, thanks for your question, and my sincere apologies for taking so long to answer it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">I didn't always do art. I spent the better part of my life pushing against anything that suggested I even try. I told myself I was a writer, I was <i>creative</i>, but in no way was I an artist or the least bit artistic. I journaled, I wrote, I scrapbooked, I doodled, I collaged. But I drew the line at anything requiring a paint brush. I knew absolutely nothing about canvases, brushes, different types of paint, etc... and am still slowly learning my way around those sort of supplies.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">When my firstborn daughter was about 1 or 1-1/2 years old, I bought jumbo crayons. Crayons didn't intimidate me in the slightest. I bought coloring books, activity books, notebooks, and little journals in the years to come. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">At some point I bought <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Crayola-16-Ct-Washable-Watercolors/dp/B00281PWH0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1379727559&sr=8-2&keywords=watercolor+paint">WASHABLE Crayola watercolor paints for kids</a>. Emphasis on washable. At that point I was very hung on up messy, and anything that was going to be messy I resisted. Especially if it was unfamiliar. I would bake cookies from scratch, but painting was out of my realm.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">So to start with, there were crayons, white printer paper, and washable watercolor paint sets that came with a single kids paintbrush. That's where we started. You can get all of that for $10. It's a basic place to start -- blank surface + color.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><b>Color + Heart = Art.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Through the years, we've learned together, the girls and I, about canvases (buy packs at art/craft stores to save money), different types of paper, and various media such as pencils, paints, oil pastels, etc...</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">If you're ready for a little more than Crayola's basic art supplies for kids, you might buy a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Darice-20-Piece-Kids-Brush-Set/dp/B003QMMK0M/ref=pd_rhf_se_s_cp_43_3GN6?ie=UTF8&refRID=09V9Z8SRTVJ40ZCRQTKH">combo pack of paintbrushes of assorted sizes</a>, a pad of watercolor and mixed-media paper, a spiral bound blank book for each child, and some inexpensive but surprisingly nice quality watercolors. I <b>LOVE</b> these <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cornell-1021095-Simply-Watercolor-Cakes/dp/B00114RIIQ/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1379727559&sr=8-3&keywords=watercolor+paint">Loew-Cornell Simply Art Watercolor Cakes</a>. Under $7, luscious colors, and I have personally used this set for over a year for all of my art journaling and art projects. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">Some additional supplies you might consider are <a href="http://www.amazon.com/ALEX%C2%AE-Toys-Artist-Studio-Drawing/dp/B00000JH4Y/ref=sr_1_3?s=arts-crafts&ie=UTF8&qid=1379727816&sr=1-3&keywords=easel+paper">easel rolls of white paper</a>, construction paper, glue, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Podge-CS11302-Original-16-Ounce-Finish/dp/B001IKES5O/ref=sr_1_2?s=arts-crafts&ie=UTF8&qid=1379727868&sr=1-2&keywords=mod+podge">Mod Podge</a>, markers, gel pens, and stickers. When we went "Back to School" shopping for this year of learning at home, we bought each girl a sketchbook, a paint and marker paper pad, whatever new crayons/makers/paints they were low on or had used up. Art is incorporated in our home learning and playing.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">For a person who had no artistic experience, and was quite frankly completely intimidated by anything art-related, I have learned to whole-heartedly embrace art and its messiness. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">If you're worried about the mess involved, I recommend a drop cloth or old sheet, art smocks or aprons, Mr. Clean magic erasers, all-purpose cleaner sprays, and paper towels. The type of media (paint, markers, etc...) you purchase can make the clean up process easy-peasy or a little more of a challenge, so consider before it goes in your shopping cart what level of clean-up commitment you are prepared for.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">My girls are 9 and 6 now, and there's only one art product we own that I'm not prepared to clean up on a daily basis, and that's tempera paint. It's messier and thicker, and will temporarily stain skin. When we use that kind of paint, I need to know that we're staying home all day or at least have a several hour chunk of time I can devote. Sometimes for school we have Art Day, and that's the type of day I usually pull out the more messy, time-consuming paint and craft projects, like homemade Play-doh.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">As for my art "philosophy," I believe everyone has the ability to be artistic. I think art and creativity are things we need to introduce kids to at a young age, and make available for them to explore throughout their growing-up years. I believe fervently that life will knock you around, and that we all, regardless of age or background, need something to help us process, heal, and calm. For some that might be running or some type of sport. For others that might be gardening, baking, or music. Or it might be journaling or painting or doodling. I want to be the kind of parent who introduces my kids to a variety of activities that they can choose from when they need a place of solace, inspiration, or therapy.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;">There's no right way to do art. There are no mistakes. Art should not be graded. Just give your kids some tools to explore and make something colorful. Hang it, frame it, and show them their art has value.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">Create together. If you sit down with a notebook and some colored pencils and start doodling or sketching, most kids will gravitate to you and show curiosity and interest. You don't need to have any artistic ability to introduce kids to art. All you need is a willingness to play and try new things.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">More resources on creating with kids:</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><a href="http://tinkerlab.com/">Tinkerlab</a></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.ucreatewithkids.com/">Ucreate with Kids</a></span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-29132521178828029132013-09-18T17:06:00.005-07:002013-09-18T19:52:01.119-07:00The Art of Living Well with a Chronic Condition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is the first post of a new blog series. The posts in this series will include my thoughts on a variety of subjects, all beginning with "The Art of."<br />
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Today I want to talk about the Art of Living Well with a Chronic Condition.<br />
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To begin, a little disclaimer. I was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis 3 years ago this month, but have been living with chronic pain since 2005, when I lost a baby and went through a chain of operations. I also spent about half of high school in chronic pain. So while I am a bit of an AS "newbie", I am not new to chronic pain, and have the scars to prove it.<br />
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I was very fortunate in that I discovered two bloggers in the years leading up to my AS diagnosis. Two female bloggers living with chronic pain. One was <a href="http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/">Sara Frankl</a>, who lived an incredibly inspiring life and taught countless people (including me) to Choose Joy. Sara died in 2011 of complications to AS.<br />
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The other was <a href="http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/">NieNie</a>. Stephanie Nielson was severely burned in a private plane crash. She nearly died. She has endured countless operations, skin grafts and more in the years since.<br />
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Both showed me that it was possible to Choose Joy no matter your circumstances, and that you could inspire people while doing it.<br />
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I determined in the summer of 2010, during a journaling session in a coffee shop, that if Sara and Stephanie could do it, so could I. Regardless of what came my way, I decided I would make as many commitments and recommitments as needed to adopt and maintain an attitude of joy and gratitude.<br />
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I encourage you to visit the above mentioned blogs and read some of their stories.<br />
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Here are some of my personal tips on living well with a chronic condition:<br />
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1.) Decide that no matter what your condition takes from you, you will <a href="http://livelifeartfully.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-writer-in-rheum-fighting-to-retain.html">fight to retain your identity</a>. Do everything you can to ensure that your physical health does not rob you of what makes you unique. Adapt, modify, replace a hobby with a new hobby, but do not let go of your essential self.<br />
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2.) Do not give in to bitterness. Yes, you have a chronic condition, and no, it's not fun. Many others do too. Some conditions are more difficult than yours, others less difficult. This is yours. Grieve it, accept it, and then get on with the business of living your best life despite it.<br />
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3.) Differentiate your physical self from your mental/emotional self. I think of my body as a house. I live inside that house. AS likes to wreak havoc on my house. Inside the house though, I am unshakeable. I am stable. I am joyful. I am just fine. As Sara Frankl said, "My body is brutal, but I am good."<br />
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4.) There will be times when you simply can't be happy. Get angry, but deal with your anger in a healthy way. Don't take it out on those around you. Cry it out, then start again. You will have moments, hours, days and weeks when this 'chronic' reality is not ok. It's okay to acknowledge that.<br />
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5.) In order to live with a chronic condition, you will do well to simplify your life. This is a great opportunity to use your boundaries, know your limits, and say "no." Your pain and illness will take time. Scale back in other areas and you will find that you are less stressed. Stress can lead to pain, so don't underestimate the value of limiting the things which will cause you stress.<br />
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6.) Make time for the things that feed you. Just as stress will negatively impact you, nurturing yourself will benefit your health. So take a walk, paint, sit at the beach, journal, play music, watch a funny TV show, have dinner with friends. Do what feeds you. If you don't know what those things are, try making a list of your activities and then make a note of how you feel during and after those activities. Writing energizes me. Painting soothes me. The ocean inspires me. Being around people too often or for too long drains me. When you have a better idea of what drains and energizes you, take care with your calendar and schedule things appropriately.<br />
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7.) To the best of your ability, take good care of yourself. Stay hydrated, get as much quality sleep as you can, rest when you need to, eat nutritiously, and keep your body moving as you are able. Don't assume that your condition is responsible for every symptom you have. Your choices and lifestyle may be playing a part as well. Do not ignore new or worsening symptoms.<br />
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8.) Your abilities may ebb and flow. Learn to go with the flow. When I can walk without aggravating my joints, I gratefully do so. When I can't, I don't. It will be worth your while to see the professionals best suited for your condition and work with them to gain the best understanding you can of both how your disease or illness typically present themselves, and what's currently happening with your particular case. My months in physical therapy were very helpful in learning about my particular mobility, what parts of my body were referring pain where, and what would be helpful and harmful for me, in dealing with mobility and AS. Working with a good rheumatologist, and having appropriate tests done has been incredibly helpful too. I find it's far less stressful and fearful to <i>know</i> what's going on with my body than to worry about it and not know.<br />
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9.) Create or maintain a support system. When you are able, be there for others. When you need help, learn to ask for it, and accept it. Severe levels of chronic pain quickly cause a sense of isolation. That sense of being alone can be detrimental to your well-being. Reach out!<br />
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10.) Cultivate an attitude of gratitude. No matter how bad things are, there is always good if you look hard enough. Keep a little notebook and try to jot down a few things every day that you are thankful for. Jot down beauty around you, compliments you receive, and inspiring quotes. List things that you have -- shelter, food, clothes. Start broad and basic and you may find your attitude changes quickly. In my experience, gratitude, especially when I name it out loud or write it down, creates joy.<br />
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I hope something here helps you when you are struggling with your reality. Life still has a great deal to offer, and you are not alone!Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-21614763278356712013-09-17T15:14:00.000-07:002013-09-24T14:49:24.702-07:00A Summer of Overcoming<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I winged my way through an astonishing summer. Partly due to an effective treatment plan, partly due to my proverbial wings {essentially: pure courage}, and partly due to necessity. I was as close to thriving as I've been in years, but still, summer was a blur of activity and "too much" for this reflective, home-based creative with chronic pain.<br />
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It was a summer I'll cherish the memory of because it was packed and fast-paced, and I did it well. I'm still trying to process 1.) what all happened this summer, and 2.) how exactly I managed it.<br />
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I took my girls on day trips by myself -- days I drove and was away from home for many hours. I haven't been able to do that in a long time.<br />
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I hiked in the forest, and walked in my neighborhood, and experienced the zoo many times.<br />
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I did a road trip.<br />
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I navigated driving in places I haven't been before.<br />
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I took my kids to a lot of places and have the pictures to prove it.<br />
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I reclaimed, rose above, and overcame.<br />
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It was good. So good.<br />
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And I did hard things. Like saying goodbye to sweet auntie who died of terminal cancer in July. Like supporting a friend who said hello and goodbye to her baby girl in the space of an hour. Like things that were stressful and felt nearly impossible.<br />
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But it's mid-September now and I've gotta say:<br />
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I'm exhausted.<br />
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These exuberant "overcomer" wings are feeling ripped and rumpled. While I cherish the memories of reclaiming my independence this summer, hiking, trips, and an astounding amount of activity; while I look back on that with satisfaction, gratification, and astonishment, I'm desperately in need of rest now.<br />
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Whether it's due to seasonal changes (summer morphing into fall), or having overdone it on a pretty big scale, I am battling exhaustion, headaches, nausea, limping, morning stiffness, and the symptom that puts the fear in me faster than any other -- waking with a spine that feels shattered.<br />
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I desire nothing more right now than to hibernate for a couple months. To settle back into my cozy nest, snuggle my family, put my feet up, hang up my wings, and recover.<br />
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Back to our little cottage. Back to dance classes and learning at home. Back to {hopefully} writing and blogging more.<br />
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As it says in the Bible, there are seasons for things. Summer was an overcoming season. I'm hoping fall can be a recovering/rejuvenating season.<br />
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What kind of season are you in? How was your summer? Did you do brave things? Did you make great memories? I'd love to hear about it.<br />
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-58951495549946676782013-05-13T15:33:00.002-07:002013-05-13T15:33:30.816-07:00Wings: The Perfect Accessory<div style="text-align: center;">
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If you follow Live Art.fully on Facebook, you've no doubt noticed a theme over the last months.<br />
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<b>WINGS</b><br />
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What does it mean when I say <i>Use Your Wings, Rest Your Wings, Put On Your Brave Wings</i>?<br />
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A couple of months ago, I had a week where my sacroiliac joints (the joints that connect your pelvis to your spine) were really flaring. They were swollen, which made them feel as if they were trying to jut through my skin. The pain was impressive. It was a week of Keep Going, just like almost all weeks -- <i>do the laundry, do the dishes, clean the house, vacuum the floors, drive daughter to dance, pick up daughter from dance, take other daughter to the library, get groceries, rinse and repeat. </i><br />
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Sometime during that week I realized that it felt like giant metal wings were trying to grow out of my back. Perhaps that's graphic, but as a writer and as someone with chronic pain, it often helps me to put my pain into words. I find it helps separate the pain from my <i>self</i>, if that makes sense.<br />
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As you can imagine, having metal jut out of your body isn't a good feeling. I've had this description crop up even in my sleep. Once I was having severe chest pain in my sleep. I dreamed that I was in a lot of pain, lifted my shirt and there was a bunch of metal that had erupted through my chest. In the dream, I very calmly noted this wasn't good, went to a doctor, told them I had Ankylosing Spondylitis and showed them my metal/chest. Ha!<br />
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So back to the Giant Metal Wings week, I realized that if instead of thinking, "My back is in such pain!", I thought of the pain as <i>Growing my Wings, </i>I could handle it better.<br />
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I wrote a little poem that day which included a line that said "my back grew wings." It was a symbolic, positive way of expressing my pain without spelling out the horror.<br />
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Famous artist Frida Kahlo was severely injured in a trolley accident in college and spent the rest of her life battling severe pain. She's quoted as saying, "Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?"<br />
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That quote has become one of my favorites. When I'm having trouble with my mobility, I tuck that in my proverbial pocket and choose to "fly" for the day. It then doesn't matter if I'm in pain or if my feet aren't working properly or my hips or my knees, because I have wings. It's a mental game really; it's how I {<a href="http://livelifeartfully.blogspot.com/2013/02/she-chose-to-rise-above-art-journaling.html">Rise Above</a>}. I find these mental games, and word phrases and images are a vital part of my pain toolkit. Maybe it's because I'm a writer and words hold such power for me, but I find that if I can just determine the right way of looking at things, I can soar.<br />
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Now when you see things in my art about flying, soaring, or wings, you'll know what it means. For me, more than anything, it's realizing the power of a positive attitude, and putting on that attitude like armor.<br />
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I may wear lounge clothes, a dress, or jeans, but I often add an invisible accessory, my wings!Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-13572871141695517152013-04-01T22:39:00.002-07:002013-04-01T22:39:22.349-07:00Mountains & Valleys: Living the Real<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Some of my favorite blogs are written by women with health problems -- cancer, lupus, RA, AS. Others inspire me artistically or encourage me in my faith and motherhood. A couple others are just fun -- how she organizes her house, for example.<br />
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But I realized tonight when I logged into my blogroll to check up on some of my blog-writing friends that the blogs I check the most frequently are the ones that show the authentic truth -- the good, the bad, the ugly. I like to see the view from the mountain top when my friend has conquered obstacles, and I like to be allowed into her fear and sorrow valleys when something isn't going well. I like the whole picture.<br />
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It's been quite a while since I've written. I'm not really sure what to say. My life has had some mountaintop views in the last few months, and it's had some valleys. The thing I look for most in other blogs -- vulnerability -- is what's hardest to share on my own.<br />
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And isn't that life, the ups and downs, the mountains and the valleys? And isn't it disorienting when it's both all at once? That's how my life feels right now... mountain top views and valleys of fear and sorrow.<br />
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I've been mostly better with AS. A lot better. I'm in a flare right now, and that's discouraging, but mostly lately I've been so grateful to be feeling so much better. I've been busy Reclaiming my life -- organizing my house, catching up on myriad things, renewing relationships, reclaiming myself. That's been good and busy and I realized a couple weeks ago that although the pain was vastly better, I was exhausted and was perhaps overdoing it with the Reclaiming. Then I flared up and the old stuff came back -- nausea, low-grade fever, broken spine in the mornings, and stiffness and pain in joints that felt almost cured.<br />
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I knew I had overdone it and was pushing too hard. But the thing I'm finding is that once in Reclaim mode, it's really hard to go backward. It's really hard to find the time to rest more.<br />
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A new symptom occurred and tomorrow I'm going in for some tests. The old fear flares back up with new symptoms. But I'm trying to live in the now. Not in the tomorrow, not in the next year, not in the what if.<br />
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Perhaps soon I'll pop back in and tell you some of my adventures I've had Reclaiming.<br />
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For now, if you're one who blogs "Real", please know that it matters. And that it encourages me to blog real too. Much love and warm hellos to all.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-79250649974011534222013-02-20T16:46:00.000-08:002013-02-20T16:48:08.400-08:00She Went Wading in Her {Ocean of Dreams}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Original Art Journaling by Jennifer LeBlanc 2013 | All Rights Reserved<br />
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Have you ever had a dream so big that you kept it quiet, all to yourself? Maybe you had other dreams that you shared, but not this one?</div>
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I have a dream like that. An ocean-sized dream. And I've been exploring it lately. I've been wading in my ocean-sized dream. Tip-toeing in, feeling the rush of the waves pull out, leaving my feet firmly planted in the seafloor.</div>
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In this art journaling spread, I was trying to capture the feeling of checking out the water. Is it too cold? Is it too deep? Will I sink or swim? Are there sharks?</div>
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Do you have an ocean-sized dream? When was the last time you tip-toed in? Think of all the people who inspire you -- what if they never dreamed ocean-sized dreams? What if they never jumped in?</div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-47981507477334409132013-02-10T17:19:00.002-08:002013-02-20T16:47:06.621-08:00She Chose to {Rise Above}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">{Original Art Journaling by Jennifer LeBlanc 2013. All Rights Reserved}<br />
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Inspiration for my various creative interests hits intermittently. This week I was driven to the Mod Podge and messy art to hammer out a theme that was floating around in my thoughts for the last two weeks:<br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Rise Above</span></b></i><br />
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I don't know any women who aren't battling some kind of personal war. Maybe it's a health condition (I personally know women with Stage IV cancer, CFS/ME, Fibromyalgia, thyroid conditions, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Diabetes, Ankylosing Spondylitis, Interstitial Cystitis, chronic debilitating dizziness, migraines, chronic pelvic pain, and the list goes on...). Maybe it's navigating the waters of divorce, single parenthood, raising a child with special needs. Maybe it's depression, anxiety, financial stress, job stress, toxic family members, going back to school, or loss and grief.</div>
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What's incredible is that most of the women I know consistently deal with more than one challenge at once. And they show incredible strength and courage as they do so.</div>
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{Rise Above} is a spread that wanted to show that process. How it looks in my life. Your Rise Above spread would likely have different stones of difficulty at the bottom, and different clouds of creatively rising above.</div>
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Some of the stones in my life are Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), miscarriage, multiple surgeries, pain, missing my child who never reached my arms, and severe fatigue.</div>
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What are your stones? What stones do you see women around you overcoming?</div>
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I love the layers of meaning in this spread. The lady has lassoed her dreams that are seemingly unattainable. She is holding them like balloons or flying them like kites. They are pulling her up, hot air balloon style, in her cage of difficulty, helping her soar above the stones that could trip her.</div>
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She's using her dreams to help her rise above. </div>
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Another thought I had while working on this spread is that our stones of difficulty can either be stumbling blocks or stepping stones in life. Which are yours? </div>
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You might use this as a prompt for journaling or an art project. What are your stones and how do you rise above? Or take a few minutes to jot a note to someone you see fighting to rise above. Tell her you admire her strength, offer help, or drop off flowers or cupcakes at her door. There is perhaps nothing more inspiring than women coming alongside other women. </div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-33850945335009253532013-01-26T15:09:00.000-08:002013-10-07T13:46:20.281-07:00A Different Kind of Love Story<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"How could one person, not very big, leave an emptiness that was galaxy-wide?"<br />
{Sheldon Vanauken, A Severe Mercy}</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Dear Jordan,</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Seven days ago I was walking around, alone, in Target... something that rarely happens. I passed the baby section and felt it again, that pang of loss. That deep ache of missing you. I have had the gift of giving birth to two healthy babies, your sisters. I have had the experience, twice, of caring for a newborn, of nursing and sleep deprivation, and I have raised them past infancy, past toddlerhood, past the preschool years. Your sisters are now six and nine. I don't take that gift for granted. But it doesn't erase the pain of what I missed out on with you. You are unique and I lost you.</span></div>
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<b>There's just one you.</b></div>
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Which is why the tag on a small soft elephant designed for babies slays me. The tag that says Just One You. Carter's is so right. Each baby is a precious, irreplaceable individual. That's why the part of my heart that belongs to you will always be empty. Because you aren't here to fill it.</div>
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You are forever a baby in my mind. I cannot imagine you as a school-aged child. You are only what you ever were -- a tiny baby unblemished by the hardness of life. You are only love.</div>
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To talk about you is to validate you as real. You were not a dream or a nightmare. Seven years down this road, when I mention you, people may assume I have not healed. This is untrue. I write about you to honor you as my child, and to record you as part of my legacy. I talk about you to untangle the ethereal thoughts and emotions, to sort what can't always be sorted.</div>
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I speak of you to give myself the gift of loving you out loud.</div>
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Ours is a different kind of love story.</div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-84760411101637343492013-01-03T02:11:00.000-08:002013-01-06T02:06:24.486-08:00To Connecticut, From the Mother of a Six Year-Old<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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December 14th, 2012.</div>
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It felt like the whole world grieved as news spread that 20 beautiful children in Newtown, Connecticut were killed in their school. Just days earlier, in my state of Oregon, another shooting happened at Clackamas Town Center mall. One of my friends was there with her children just an hour before the shooting occurred; another had planned to go to the mall, but something changed her mind.</div>
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Moments. Decisions. Locations.</div>
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The night of the Clackamas shooting, I gathered for a Christmas cookie exchange with my Bible Study girls (all mothers of small children), and we talked about the shooting, in our state, in a mall we've all been with our families, and someone said, "Is it safe to take my kids to a movie? Is it safe to take them to the mall?" </div>
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Less than 72 hours later, her words rang in my mind as I tried to process the horror that is the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting. </div>
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<i>Is it safe to take my kids to school?</i></div>
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Events like these capture our attention. We are riveted to news, whether it be television, online, in print, or what is being shared on social media sites.</div>
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Shortly after I heard the initial reports of what happened in Newtown, I posted this on my personal Facebook page:</div>
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<i>My Kindergartener is putting on a one-woman concert and my third grader is drawing blueprints. Meanwhile hearts are breaking for all the Kindergarteners and third graders and other elementary children in Connecticut whose unique gifts to the world have been snuffed out. Tears flow for their mothers and their fathers, their siblings, their community and for the world. Tears flow out of my deep gratitude for the girls safe in my home today who make messes and sing loudly and fight with each other and snuggle me and their daddy. I'm so sorry, Connecticut.</i></blockquote>
I didn't know yet how many children had been killed, what grades they were in or their ages. I didn't even know yet that Sandy Hook was a school for kids in K-4th grade.<br />
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That night I tucked my kids in, taking my {sweet, precious} time, and posted this afterward:<br />
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<i>Snuggled with Natalie at bedtime in her little room lit by nightlight, with her soothing music playing. Couldn't stop kissing her soft cheek. Gave her 20 extra kisses, one for each child about her age who didn't come home from school today. Couldn't stop there. She hugged and kissed me back, with her wet hair from the bath smelling like Dora strawberry shampoo. We prayed for the families in Connecticut. Left her room with tears spilling down my face. A classroom of Kindergarteners destroyed this morning.... and mine safe tonight. So broken for their mamas who couldn't tuck them in tonight.</i></blockquote>
Later that night, the helplessness of the situation struck me.<br />
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<i>Natalie asked me, "Did any of my friends die today?" and while the answer is no, we are part of the human family, and the bulk of the children killed were Kindergarteners, just like her. I wonder who they would have grown to be. I am struggling because this can't keep happening, and yet I am certain that it will, while our nation continues to argue over what to do or not to do. We can't live in fear, but what kind of a world are we raising our kids in, that churches, malls, movie theatres, soccer fields, coffee shops and schools aren't safe places? I believe in life after death. I believe more people are good than bad. But on days like today, there are a lot of questions, and my inability to always protect my girls is glaring.</i></blockquote>
I woke the next morning in a lot of pain. I felt emotional: overwhelming gratitude for life and the gift of more time with my family; overwhelming sadness for the state of my country. We dressed up and curled hair and went to church. I craved the ages, grades, and the names of the children killed. Sometime that afternoon a list was released. I swallowed around a lump in my throat as I silently read the names and ages -- 20 children: 16 six year-olds, 4 seven year-olds.<br />
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I cried as I calculated that TWELVE of the children who died were six year-old little girls like my daughter.<br />
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I read their names, and I thought constantly of their parents. I loved my girls better and with more intention; more intensity. I felt guilt that twelve mothers lost their six year-old daughters, while mine is here with me, sparkling and smiling, as only Natalie can.<br />
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A week later I created an art journaling tribute to the 20 children. It's a way to remember them, to process what happened, and it's my way of trying to reach out to their parents to say <i>I'm so, so sorry</i>.<br />
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Going forward, this tragedy will stick with me like 9/11.<br />
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As I grappled with how much caring is too much, how much processing is right and how much is bordering on obsession, I settled on the thought that one thing our country can use is people who deeply care about others. People who are compassionate. If lingering on this for a while makes me "too sensitive," I have just this to say: I'd rather be too sensitive than insensitive.<br />
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Remembering and grieving with you, Newtown parents.<br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">For additional reading, here are two posts on the Newtown shooting that resonated with me:</span></div>
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<a href="http://verylongchronicles.blogspot.com/2012/12/in-connecticut-in-my-heart.html">In Connecticut, In My Heart</a> by Joseph Long at Very Long Chronicles</div>
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<a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/2012/12/restoration.html">Restoration</a> by Kelle Hampton at Enjoying the Small Things</div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-8941529495544253092013-01-01T22:40:00.001-08:002014-01-01T14:44:27.655-08:00My Word for the New Year {2013}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's a lot of me that has been altered through the past few years; taken or temporarily taken over by chronic illness and bouts of severe, unrelenting pain. It snatches bits of sanity, social life, creativity, inspiration, it takes the dreams, the goals, the best parts of self, even as I've fought to retain them.</div>
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This last fall I changed my treatment plan, and began feeling significantly better just over a month ago. 2012 closed with me feeling alternately battered and vibrant. Battered by much of what happened in 2012, and vibrant because the relief leaves me breathless, weightless, floating... so much weight off my shoulders.</div>
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I've chosen a Word of the Year for the past three years. In 2010 I chose NEST to remind myself of my priority of building a sacred, safe, nurturing shelter for my young daughters and our family. In 2011, fighting Ankylosing Spondylitis in earnest, I chose STILL to remind myself to be still and know that God had a plan, to be still and rest, that no matter what happened in my future, I was still God's and I still had purpose. In 2012, yearning to not let life pass me by regardless of a life with chronic illness, I chose AWAKE. I wanted to focus on staying awake to life, to dreams, to opportunities, and to the everyday moments of grace and joy. </div>
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Awake was a word of mixed results. I gave it a valiant effort -- I traveled cross-country with my family for 2.5 weeks, I attended a writing conference, I joined a writing critique group, I focused on my book, I enrolled my girls in ballet class, and saw a passion for dance awaken in Hannah.<br />
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There were also times that Awake seemed a bad joke. Severe fatigue and pain dragging me under water, at times making it impossible to join in to life. The last few months of 2012 were particularly difficult and grueling. But as the saying goes, the darkest was just before dawn, and less than a week after Thanksgiving I began to awake once more: ideas, more energy, less pain, more smiles and more laughter, and simply feeling more like myself again.</div>
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I'm still battling AS, but it's not as big of a foe right now. So I'm going into 2013 inspired to RECLAIM the me that chronic challenges threatened.</div>
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I want to Reclaim parts of myself that were put on the back burner while so very ill. I want to write, I want to reclaim stability in our home, reclaim the dreams and the goals, reclaim ability vs. disability, reclaim so very many things.</div>
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I know that I may continue to improve, or that my pain may climb back up the scale along with my fatigue. If that happens, I will fight again, and I will give myself the gift of grace and understanding, knowing that I have always done my best, no matter the degree of difficulty.</div>
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I want to claim space for myself, and claim physical space for writing in our home. I did that today, creating a little corner of my own with a rolltop desk and my writing supplies. I organized my art supplies and put stacks of notecards in the cubbies of the desk.</div>
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I am reclaiming the precious relationships I have with my daughters, now that I once again have the ability to be emotionally present in our conversations and one-on-one time, not sequestered away from them by the barrier of pain I couldn't ignore.</div>
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I feel inspired and intentional going into this new year. It will be my mission to reclaim my identity apart from chronic illness. </div>
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<i>Reclaim: to rescue from an undesirable state; to restore to a precious natural state.</i></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-85771773855189120622012-12-31T13:12:00.001-08:002013-01-01T18:13:35.869-08:00A Fervent Wish: Happy New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day." {Edith Lovejoy Pierce}</span></i></div>
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Many of the last several years in our family have been hard. There have been multiple surgeries, severe chronic pain, stress in all shapes and sizes, etc… But at the end of all of those years, I've been able to honestly say, “This year was a hard year, but it was a good year.”<br />
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Tomorrow begins 2013, which causes me to reflect on the year of 2012. While good things have absolutely happened this year, while there has been great joy, I have to admit that overall, 2012 has been one of the most difficult years of my life. 2012 has tested every part of me.<br />
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I’m happy to be wishing 2012 farewell. I’ll take the good memories into 2013, so many of them stored neatly in the spiral-bound books I filled this year. I’ll take the lessons and the strength of character it gave me. But I don’t want to look back on the bad.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>I pray 2013 is kinder and gentler.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Tonight I will be cozy in my living room, with Christmas tree lights and my husband. We will eat cheese & crackers, drink sparkling juice, and watch movies. At midnight, we will kiss and mumble our way through <i>Auld Lang Syne </i>like we always do. We will say "Happy New Year!"<o:p></o:p></div>
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I dearly hope it will be happy, for our family and for yours.<o:p></o:p></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-29460760364992164322012-12-26T15:51:00.002-08:002012-12-26T15:51:59.022-08:00Through My EyesI look for beauty in every day. Every day, whether at home or out, I keep my eyes open for gifts. I can always find them in nature -- a little bird, a wildflower, clouds, trees, water, skylines. That's easy. But sometimes I'm indoors all day, and so then I have to look a bit harder to find the beauty.<br />
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But consciously or subconsciously, it's my daily mission to find it. When I do, I like to capture it. Here are some views of beauty through my eyes.<br />
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I hope you noticed the beauty this Christmas season.</div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7070899434981664008.post-22552796029399492862012-12-06T14:53:00.000-08:002012-12-07T16:06:19.878-08:00The Writer in the Rheum: Fighting to Retain My Identity with Chronic Disease<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For some reason, I'm shy about discussing my treatment choices in public forums such as Facebook or my blog. I believe treatment choices are highly personal, and tend to be controversial. I have friends and family who believe only in natural/alternative treatments, I have friends and family who believe only in medical treatments, and I have friends and family who believe in a combination, or integrative, approach.<br />
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Thankfully, I also have some friends and family who believe that the person effected should be the person to make the decisions about their own care, regardless of what they personally would do.<br />
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I still don't feel comfortable writing about my choices in regard to my treatment plan, but maybe someday I will. What I <i>would </i>like to say, is that a couple months ago I switched things up significantly, and about nine days ago, I started feeling better.<br />
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I have said many times that no matter how much pain I'm dealing with, I want to choose not to <i>suffer</i>. I believed in that concept strongly, but have to admit that the last month or two has been rough. My quality of life was shot, my pain was raging out of control, and morning stiffness? Let's just say that on Thanksgiving, it took about the same length of time to "thaw out" my spine, as most people spend thawing out their frozen turkeys. I was in a place that felt unending. I felt almost physically sequestered from my own life and my family. I wasn't enjoying my life, and I was clinging to the concept of hope -- that maybe something could still turn my life around. But, to be honest, I wasn't sure it was out there.<br />
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My spinal pain was nearly unbearable. I woke every morning feeling as if someone had broken my back in the night. I could barely move, I couldn't bend, and the pain was reaching the upper limits of my experience.<br />
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I spent a great deal of time with a question rattling around through the haze in my brain:<br />
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<i>Is there a writer in the rheum?</i><br />
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</i>I am a writer. Other than being a mother, it's my highest calling, highest pleasure, and how I identify myself.<br />
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I was losing my ability to hang onto the dream of ever finishing my book, of ever writing articles again, of even getting back to this blog. I long to inspire others to face their lives with creativity, positivity, and an authentic lifestyle of thanksgiving.<br />
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But I was drowning. I have spent months fighting to stay afloat, fighting not to go under.<br />
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I felt I was in a cage of severe pain, and it was becoming harder and harder to function and interact.<br />
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I was afraid that I was losing my fight to maintain any quality of life, and that my dream of finishing my book, and starting new projects, would be unattainable. I was afraid that with a rheumatic disease raging out of control, my "writer" self would be lost.<br />
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I really don't know how much more I could have endured without some part of me slipping away forever; without losing my smile, my ability to be a friend or a good mother, or a writer.<br />
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I'm grateful beyond words (and as I've said here, words are kind of my thing) to say that I'm doing better. Just as I didn't know how to fight my way to the surface one more time, I'm doing better. I don't know if it's the change in treatment plan, or if I was in a brutal flare-up that is ending, but whatever the cause, I am unspeakably relieved.<br />
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A week ago we went to a Christmas concert. During intermission, I walked with my six year-old up and down three flights of stairs. I couldn't have done that before. I'm still excessively tired, I'm still running low-grade fevers frequently, and pain is still present, but the glass wall separating me from my life and my family has shattered down. I can touch them now, I can interact again, and my mind is starting to awaken.<br />
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I'm more committed than ever to write.<br />
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Because, you see, this is my story. It's mine and it's true. And maybe some part of my difficult reality will ease some hurting part in you.<br />
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Please don't give up on your dreams and fighting for your best life. I made a choice to fight, and I'm so grateful to be emerging from this dark place.Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07810736265869305528noreply@blogger.com9