don't rain on my parade... unless it means more daffodils.

i am grateful. for so many things. for friends that call me, family that supports me, faith that grounds me, rock wall that i can climb, legs and feet that allow me to get around, snacks, old curmudgeons that are adorable, bananas, orangutans,  music that makes me dance, words that make me think, color, stories that make me want to change, struggles that make me stronger, socks that keep my feet warm, daffodils, ...

the list continues in my heart... but really all i want to accomplish today is hope. my hope dies when my gratitude dies. but, when i do recognize my blessings, i am not afraid. in fact, i feel empowered.

and it makes me ready.

ready for anything.

so, with my heart full of gratitude and hope, my mind is at ease. my body willing to press on. willing myself to get up and make something beautiful.

Ode to a Sister Valentine friend

Ode to a sister friend

My sister’s dreams are bigger than Mt. timp
she might even someday save a baby shrimp.

I really admire how much she always cares
and I try to save her from being eaten by bears

When I need to make a good impression,
she gives me a lot of help with fashion.

And somehow she knows to send me a link
when I am on the verge of needing a shrink

She can never be beat when we rassle,
but that ticklish neck sure gives her a hassle.

And her hot-dog toes can grip
once they get you, they don’t slip.

Together we take the open road on our bikes
we sing about breaking free on our hikes

I always wish she were there when I pose like a plank
or when my references to gold pants draw a blank.

She does some wonderful things
and wears some pretty cool rings

I sure do love that sister of mine
even though she is not my valentine.

eat my shorts.

 

the 80's.

it is that magical era... full of color, eccentricity, radical movies, bodacious babes that sang hip music, and the hair.. oh, that hair...

aaron and i decided to proclaim this month "80s appreciation month" and i write this afternoon to salute those ten years that most of us seem to look back on with a smile on our faces.

first of all, barf bags, a word on 80s music. last weekend, i was inducted in to a silent music listening group. we meet, listen to a 20 minute mix in utter silence, and then share our feelings on the mix. (yes, this is by far the most hipster thing i could do with my time. and i love it.) as my induction to the group, i was asked to prepare a mix. aaron and i put one together in honor of 80s appreciation month. we tried to include the songs that you have for sure heard, but may not think of right off the bat as an 80s song. the mix was a radical hot success. as we listened, in complete silence, we snickered at the hokey lines and tapped out the heavy beat with our heads (fighting the urge to bust out a spastic running man right there in the living room). but inwardly, we thought and dissected the layers of the music. though it is often chided, some 80s music can be rather deep and artistic.



The Scorpions

   winds of change by the scorpions has amazing lyrics, very deep. it also has a pro-whistler doing an introduction. and, rapture by blondie is delightful with her mucky-muck choice of a "rap" section in the middle of the song. on the matter, all i have to say is, give that madonna cd a spin. close your eyes, and let the music seep on in. don't just dance the 80s, groove the 80s.

only the best...

movies. i freaking love 80s movies. they have this odd staged-ness about them. the set-up is always so straightforward and lays out exactly what the viewer should expect from the movie.  the characters are typically goofy, eccentric, or too cool. molly ringwald is like the poster child of 80s teenage angst. her hair, clothes, they all scream for attention and some sort of rebellion. and how could we forget ferris buhler? anyone... anyone.....? and how many of us have had the time of our lives like baby in dirty dancing? here, all i have to say is, i always feel good after watching an 80s movie. it is familiar, funny, and pretty freaky, babay.

there are way to many people i adore from the 80s.. so i won't even go there. instead, if you read this, please add your favorites about the 80s.. or your thoughts on why the 80s were such an exciting time... especially those of you who actually lived in the 80s.. tee hee hee..

and to the 80s.. may you be remembered as.. like.. totally.. awesome.

what i got for new years....

jenni how

a poem

by aaron wells

jenni style

mustard lays on a barken blanket

against auburn skies. a corduroy sheet,

you adorn a fleecy bed

amid a cloven sea.

pretty jenni

honey drips golden down stolid shoulders:

brassy rings surrounding elven

face and arab eyes; a phoenix

ignites a smelted heart to its boldest kelvin.

ambitious jenni

yours is a hawk's passion

to soar; to dive;

to seek the goal 

and capture prey alive.

jenni mind

yet, soaring heights and swooping bows

do not impede your view.

you check your wings, your course and scape;

thoughts are more than true

jenni move

you are strength.

jenni shoes and jenni legs

pad a sunny pavement

and dash beyond the sloven dregs.

jenni listen

i heard you listen silently beneath a sullen

moon. time was a distance between starts, between grass roots,

whose spiny limbs etched their memories into a clay cochlea--

their noiseless din bellowed you as flutes.

jenni goodness

you saw the first light of a new, white star.

upon its appearance

you followed on dusty toes,

all tributaries muddled in your trance.

jenni kindness

time is a woven, calico blanket; it is your gift;

you unroll it across a pallet,

upon which appears a help unmatched;

their gratitude is a heavy, falling mallet.

jenni affection

honey drips golden

across a thirsty tongue.

you wrap me in arms

of billowy down; i am young.

jenni mystery

mostly, you are a dream

whose particulars i cannot place

when waking. when waking comes

i gaze in awe at trails i cannot trace.

............i pretty much have the most adorable, amazing boyfriend ever. it is a happy new year indeed!

Mr. Rogers, you have done it again....

I admit it. Every time I listened as Mr. Fred Rogers told me I was special and unique- exactly as I was meant to be, I felt those warm-fuzzies. Sure, this man could seem creepy as he adorns his sweater, changes his shoes, and softly sings to his young audience, but I still see him as a TV-uncle with great life lessons and fashion sense. So many great memories... the toilet seat factory... how recycling works... why friends fight... and how cool it is to have a miniature train in your house. And today, years after he has passed away, he helped me realize what I have been missing for the past few months. 

I am working on a lesson for church in a few weeks. It is titled Living Righteously in Perilous Times. After reading through the material, I felt like focusing on the idea of peace. What is it? Where does it come from? How do we maintain peace in our lives? Disclaimer, I am aware that there is a lot to peace. It can be achieved through different paths. I do feel, though, that a great deal of the peace we feel has to do with our attitude toward others. Peace must be understood within us. It comes through our knowledge of truth, which increases our ability to have faith. I have noticed it is almost impossible to feel peace when I am frustrated with someone. I get so focused on the negative things I see that I become entirely uncertain about what is good anymore. When I think of people I dislike, all of those thoughts are negative. Of course I dislike them, that is all I am seeing in them! So, what is it that attracts me to some people, but I cannot seem to see in others? This is where Mr. Rogers hit me on the head...

“When I say it's you I like, I'm talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch. That deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive. Love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.” 

In people I have already learned to love, all I see when I look at them is how they have inspired me. People who still believe in love, people who stand for the truth no matter what, people who are honest, people who never complain. The most amazing thing to me about this is that every person can be an inspiration in some way. Unfortunately, we do not often allow them to be an inspiration because we do not understand their methods. It is a crying shame that we miss out on this beautiful side of so many people simply because we don't understand them. We really should take a moment to talk to people. Listen to what they are actually saying and make an effort to feel how they feel. I do not think we will be disappointed by what we find. I think we will find inspiration, and in the long-term I think we will find peace. 

One thing Mr. Rogers was really great at was making each of his viewers feel like they were an inspiration in some way. I believe that this is possibly the best way to encourage things like peace, love, and appreciation, and I can't think of anything the world needs more of right now. 

So... I am going to go spend some time finding things to admire in the people I know. I hope to find a spark... something to reignite my ambition for life. I hope to recognize the God-given gifts in others and feel within myself that same empowerment. I hope that this will brighten the world and inspire us all to reach for something greater. 

love your tree!!!

my dietitian shared this video with me last week. i absolutely love it.

it is so true! when i am observing God's creations in nature, i never think "well, gee, this rock looks pretty good.. but THIS one is a bit shabby.. needs improvement." when i look around at the beautiful earth surrounding me, i have an overwhelming sense that everything is exactly the way the Lord meant for it to me. 

so why, when i look in the mirror are my thoughts any different? am i not another of God's important and beautiful creations? because my sweater is less trendy than another woman or my thighs are a bit larger than another's, does it make me worth any less than them? 

NO

so, mental note to self... stop criticizing and start admiring. yes, that includes my own reflection. in sister uchtdorf's words..."it's not a race, it's a journey. enjoy the moment." that includes enjoying myself. 

challenge this month: LOVE YOUR TREE!!!

(this is the perfect month for that.. all the trees are pretty colors and changing.. love it)

things that matter most

this all started with a really huge picture on a cement wall in a park in tacoma. it shows hundreds of people crowding the street, waiting to see the results of the world series. my first thought was, "those silly people.. standing out there just to see some numbers posted!"

Ben Gilbert Park.... read about it!

but then i stood there a little longer and actually looked at their faces. it slowly dawned on me that these were real people with real lives and real personalities. not just part of an image on the wall. then i began to wonder what they were thinking and why each one of them woke up that morning and chose to stand on that very street at that very moment to make that very memory. i imagine most of them stood by good friends. maybe that is why they came, just to be with friends. some of the young ones had this gleam in their eyes. maybe they came for the sheer excitement of baseball. maybe baseball is what their dreams are made of. whatever the reason, the point is that they chose to be there. and it meant something to them. it meant more than being anywhere else at that moment.

this is similar to the powerful experience i had of seeing bruce lee's grave site. it was covered in gifts! people left poems, money, flowers. all for this celebrity they didn't even know. but, think of what bruce lee did for the asian american community? he showed them how their dreams were attainable! he made it in a big world where he was not-so-big! that is incredible!

so, this raises the question, "why do i wake up and choose to go where i do each day?" more so than that, do i actually do the things my dreams are made of? or do i push those things aside in the fears i will never make it? or because i mistakenly thought something else was more important? and what really inspires me is the people who live their dream. they go places and do things not because it is their duty or commission to do so, but because it is their dream to do so. these people are extraordinary. and, i am blessed to know some of them. some of these people had dreams for careers, some for families, and some for adventure. i admire how they have achieved their dreams, either in partial or complete.

keep doing what you do to make your dreams come true!

(perfect cliche ending, eh?)