such a long distance

It's crazy that in 2 hours you can be hours away from me, and that the distance between us can feel overwhelming. We live in an age when people argue that the world is smaller, but separation...is separation. Sure, technology has softened the blow through tools like Skype and FaceTime but the reality is that these tools also make the gap between us excruciating by giving us 2/3s of a relationship.   

Goodbyes lately feel more like open heart surgery. Call me melodramatic but truthfully I never thought that long distance could hurt so much.  So as you fly farther away from me, back to reality as you call it, I sit here, where we sat and feel a growing vacancy, and the amount that I miss you, surpasses my expectation.   

Give a little

What is it about twinkle lights, old christmas carols, and green garlands that invite a sense of peace and comfort.  Is it just nostalgia?   Or do these things together equate a magical reaction within our subconscious?
This time of year, as exams approach, final projects come to a close, the end of semester is anticipated with a sense of desperate intensity.  The magic of Christmas is imagined as, sitting beside a fire, knowing the ones you love are near by.  It is a time of year that seems to move in slow motion, at least in my memories.   The memories of laughing by a lit fire in the glow of the christmas tree, singing songs and visiting with those dearest to my heart makes the wait almost painful.   With provinces separating me from my loved ones, the autonomy I feel is magnified in this barren land.

Students come together during this time of year to present their watered down offerings of christmas, the sort of filler feelings that will substitute for the real thing for another few weeks.   Despite the fact that I want to be home now, I need to remember to appreciate the little family I have here, the people that I see on a daily basis, that I have grown to care about deeply.   I suggest that this holiday season we invest in relationships and people that don't have to legally love us. The people that come into our lives might need an extra dose of compassion and care.   As our world spins and stirs and heartache seems to lurks around too many corners, let us instil in the world a love and care for one another that is so desperately needed.  To augment the trauma and trials that overwhelm our world, let's choose to bless those we meet, by giving freely an extra big smile, or a welcoming hug, or even simply holding a door.   Those are gifts that everyone is able to give, and gifts that put back into humanity a sense of brotherhood essential to our world's vitality.

Look up.

After my new (ish) iPhone 5c decided to take a plunge in the toilet, I have banished into in a bag of brown rice for bad behavioir.   Believe it or not this is the second time this has happened to one of my iPhones, so this isn't my first "rodeo."   Being liberated from my beloved iPhone, I realized that it is a bit like a phantom limb.   I got to grab it, and realize that, "riiight... its in solitary confinement."   I have realized, (much to my dismay)  how much I rely now on this piece of technology.  I spend a good chunk of my day staring down at it, waiting for a text message from my honey, passing time on Pinterest, or feeling connected to other humans via Facebook.  If lost without this gadget I would remain lost for a very long time as the only phone numbers I've forced into my cranium are those that haven't change in 10 years and my best friend in the whole world who is two provinces away, so not much help to me in Manitoba.    

I've wondered lately why it feels like I have intense focus at all times, and now I think I know why.   So much of my life I see with a nearsightedness that blinds me to the wonders of the world.  I go from a. to b. with much intensity and purpose while in between those two stops I'm focusing intently on the latest update on Facebook 12 inches away from my face.  I forget to look up and see the sparkle in the snow, or appreciate from afar the going down of the sun and the array of colours that collect at the base of the sky's canvas.  These are the moments in life that remind us that we are alive.   It isn't watching another youtube video, or the 3rd season of Full House on Netflix.  Its human interaction and appreciating the beauty around us.  

As fall transitions to winter the days get shorter, bleaker and more grey, it is easy to slip into a foggy mindset that equates one day to the next.  Suddenly your week progresses like ticker tape, and very little stands out amongst the routine, repetition, and monochromatic world that surrounds you.   I want to live with farsighted intention, looking beyond myself, my phone (face to palm*/ashamed face*) and start to relearn the art of appreciating things from a distance and with intension.  As sad as my soggy phone is, I am glad of a mini break from my... obsession(?)  habit(?) crutch(?)  I forget to appreciate life outside of technology. Oh man, that is a sad realization.  

I found this on Pinterest:  

Lets try to look up more and down less...

Music

Performance Analyisis 

Shwarz and Copland Third, WSO. 
John William- Three pieces from Schindler’s List.

Violinist: Karl Stobbe.

A tall thin man, dressed in a black suit with tails stood solidly at the left of the conductor.  He faced a lacklustre audience that filled only half of the giant theatre. His violin and bow in either hand he inhaled calmly and then raised the violin to his chin and crossed his bow over the strings.   The orchestra, donned in black behind this man, played solemn full harmonies that compelled the spirit to follow along this musical journey as directed by the tall thin man’s violin.   

As a familiar tune echoed in a silent concert hall, a sense of soothing would lapse in and come over the room to be followed by a heart wrenching persistent ache.   This music designed and crafted to convey a story of bravery, heartache and horror during the Second World War that couldn’t be addressed with words or action when depicted in the film Schindler’s List, was now a vehicle for reflection for an audience many removed from the Holocaust horrors.  The richness of historic colors present in the music seemed to solemnly move its performer.   He remained a presence on stage but seemed to be small, and them music that surrounded his took precedence. Despite the sad beauty that encased the melody, painful and almost detached moments were evident for the violinist.    His body swayed with the melody that spoke of hardship, and with his eyes closed he seemed to see the faces of those affected by the terror.   With each crescendo the intensity swelled and his performance peaked yet again.

This performance was powerful because of the simplicity in which it was conveyed.  There need not be bells and whistle, the music expressed it all, and the performers was the instrument to amplify its message.     There was a humble gratitude that was present in the performers eyes as he received his stand ovation for his moving performance.   

distance

dis·tance

ˈdistəns/

noun

1. 1. 

   an amount of space between two things or people.

   
   

   There is a province between us.  1305.7 km, 15 hours of driving, a 2 hour flight, or a 263 hour walk.  There is too much space.  What this all equates to is a chasm that can't be filled, only remedied with FaceTime.   This expanse also becomes a breeding ground for miscommunication and frustration, that doesn't often exist under normal circumstances.   This is important to recognize.  

   
   

   I am a firm believer in that anything worth while does not come easy so, the challenge of a long distance relationship lines up with this philosophy for life.   By choosing to look at this time of separation as a training ground, and an opportunity to earn our stripes, we are able to figuring each other out from a new perspective,  however unwanted it is.  

   
   
2. 2. 

   the full length of a race.

   
   

   A relationship is a bit like a race, dating is training it is figuring if you have it in you to run a "marathon" with this person, it is an challenge but also is preparation for the real deal.   Once the race begins on that big day its about team work, support, encouragement and choosing to not give up on each other.   

   This distance I currently find myself is preparation, and fully relatable to the real meal deal.  
   

   
   

verb

1. 1. 

   make (someone or something) far off or remote in position or nature.

   The struggle with a long distance relationship  is trying to find that closeness despite the daunting separation.   

   
   

   
   

   
   

   Moral of the story is long distance sucks.  It isn't fun being apart from your best friend.  But there is merit in it, the challenge will strengthen the relationship and the time spent a part will establish endurance.  

   
   
   So go team!  

   
   

   
   

summer thoughts

MY FAVORITE KIND OF WEATHER IS WHEN THE SUN SHINE AND YET SOMEHOW THE SKY OPENS UP TO ALLOW RAIN TO FALL AND QUENCH THE THIRSTY DESERT GROUND. IN THE OKANAGAN THIS IS A REGULAR OCCURRENCE.  THE BEAUTY IN THOSE MOMENTS IS THE DICHOTOMY OF IT ALL, THE CONTRAST AND ALMOST IRONY THAT I CAN FEEL THE RAIN AND SUNSHINE AT THE SAME TIME.   

fall

They rushed around in dizzying patterns dressed in their fall colours.   Chasing one another as if in a game of tag relentlessly they raced.  While others twirled and danced in swirling circles, the festive outdoor display echoed the call of changing seasons.  The invisible force turned and manoeuvred them, forcing the fallen to move to and fro.

Thanksgiving.

There is rhythmic drumbeat of rain drops falling from the sky, hitting branches and soggy leaves that dampen the sound. Cars crescendo and pass slowly in the background creating the composition of a lazy sunday.  Today is a wet grey day, and even the air feels damp and heavy.    I look out my window and see an array of shades of green and question if it could really be thanksgiving long weekend in Winnipeg.  

 I am far away from the people I love, there are provinces that separate us.   I find that this particular holiday inflicts a strange sort of pain in my heart.   Previous thanksgivings we would find our selves in our secluded cabin, where we congregated around a fire or the living room and life would happen together.  For four days we were forced to revisit traditions of the past, like talking to one another and forgetting that technology has weaselled its way in to wreck havoc on communication.  Now as my heart is torn over two provinces, it aches to be with my love and my family.  

Distance does make the heart grow fonder, but it can also play tricks on it as well, heightening the challenge of the situation.   I am thankful for a challenge that can strengthen and refine.   I am thankful to have someone I can be challenged with, and a family that loves and supports me.

Don't only practice your art, but force your way into its secrets

 “Don't only practice your art, but force your way into its secrets...”  - Beethoven

Music is a peculiar thing to study.  It is a subject that lingers so close to the heart of many, and is often considered a universal language.  Often I think this degree is downplayed and disregarded by much of the general public.  Despite the fact that Music is a simple passion, it is a complex dream.   This art form, one that I have found myself studying serioulsy for almost 4 years, began as a quest to seek out its secrets.   My intentions were honourable and my motivation unwavering.   I was un-phased by the realities that I saw in the distance, and quickly approaching.   

The problem with studying music is that it is so close to my heart.    My desire to sing initially overflowed, but those waters of passion seem to have dissipated drastically due the list of demands that music now has.  This reality is like little hits that slowly wear you down.  Perhaps it is my skewed perception of what to strive for.   I know that I expect excellence from myself; I strive for perfection, whatever "perfection" may mean that day.   I know and recognize that this is an unattainable trait that becomes like the carrot at the end of the stick.    I find myself walking to practice rooms to make attempts at a search for my art’s secrets, only to leave feeling as though the wind was taken out of my song.  

My question is when does beating out melodies and repeating phrasing relentlessly become more harm than good?  We are required as music students to spend hours locked inside a windowless practice room, to knock off the illusive 10,000 hours.  Pursuing perfection is a disease that affects us all, at least to a certain extent.   In a faculty of exceptional talent, I am ashamed to admit that the yardstick sneaks out from my back pocket to measure where I line up.  According to the standards I set for myself I rarely do.  

One thing that isn’t discussed is how to cope with the stresses of this career path.  I feel that this is vital to a healthy approach and the longevity of an art form as we just approach the trailhead.    What can be done when your love of your art, instrument or song fades?  Where can motivation and purpose be found again?   When you desire a lush passion, and not a dry desert void of desire, where do you go?  

September, what is up? Lets talk.

After an unwelcoming first week back in Winnipeg, where wet clouds overflowed in the heavens and spilled down onto the streets, the feeling of complacency cast a shadow on the bright mentally I had initially brought to the academic table.
The grey clouds that hover above seem to have the ability to suck up into them any sense of motivation, comfort and energy I might feel before prying opening my blinds first thing in the morning.
How those fluffy greyish, white puffs of matter have the ability to rid me of all these things is beyond me.
Trying to muster up the enthusiasm to exit my quaint little hamlet on a day like today is a task unto itself, without even considering the challenges that await me outside of my front door.
If I had my way, each day that threatened rain would be spent by a big brick wood burning fireplace, with a fabulous book, and a large glass of something red with my love near by.  
I think I am now of the opinion that grey days are best spent with the person you care most about, near something warm.

september

The commencement of the scholastic year typically is the calm before the storm.  As the academics,  slowly slide into our responsibilities a routine is established to help set the pace and rhythm of the year. This year however, looks on paper as the most intense semester yet. This realization has been intensified by my distaste for the changing season.  Left with a bitter taste in my mouth after saying goodbye to the most magical summer months, the feeling of fall is much like that of unwanted visitor.

Well...what was once a winter waste land has now been transformed into an oasis of green with leaves that cascade over blankets of grass. This green has come with gallons of unwanted rain that is uncharacteristic of Winnipeg.   The torrential downpours reminds me of the lower mainland in early winter. It makes me wish for a cozy sweater, a certain pair of tattooed arms to be wrapped around me and a cup of hot chocolate. (in no particular order)
Le sigh...
This weather is not conducive to a productive september.  

The end of summer. The beginning of...

Forcing my feet forward, despite the feeling that they each weighed 100 lbs, robbed me of my strength. As I pried myself out of your arms the realization hit me that this day we had been dreading has arrived.  I loaded myself in to a car that would drive me hundreds of miles away from you and felt the chasm between us take shape. The distances is suffocating.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, this I believe to be true.   I know that all good stories have a conflict, and this perhaps can be ours.  A conflict that has the potential to define us by the strength and character that will grow in us and our relationship despite the dreaded distance.

Goodbyes are the worst.

I know that this time is important, it will provide opportunity to grow.  But even that knowledge isn't sufficient to silence the whimpers of lonely heart. 

Rest and summer.

It feels like life has been in a constant state of flux for the past 4 years.  This theoretically could be my last year of university, but because I transferred I am bound to the life of an academic for an additional annum. This summer I sought to find myself again after a year of dizzyingly difficult situations and changes.   I limited my work week to part time, a sacrifice financially, and allowed myself time for me.   My mental state going into the summer break was brittle and tired.  I needed reprise from decision and deadlines, heart ache and the hardship I found myself surrounded by in Winnipeg.   Thankfully I found the serenity I needed, and it came in a different way than I expected. 



I made the decision this summer to rest, and not feel pressure to perform or practice or please my inner perfectionist.   I gave myself a break which, looking back I might regret as the work piles begin to form and the outline of my next two semesters are traced in my mind.   I doubt, even as deadlines race towards me that I will regret even a minute of my summer free of school-like thoughts.  I think in the midst of packing, good-byes and change I forget the exhausted state I wearily brought myself home in.  I see only what is coming and almost view the much needed reprise as an oversight, or ill timed decisions.  

I know I am happier than I have ever been.  My heart nearly burst today as I was surrounded by family and dear friends that I have grown to love deeply.  My summer, although unproductive in many aspects was invaluable because it allowed me time to breath, and remember what life could and can feel like.   As I embark on another scholastic year, armed with knowledge that I am loved and cared for by not only an amazing family, but also the love of my life, I know I can tackle challenges I couldn't have faced without these three months of rest and rejuvenation. 

 

Summer is quickly coming to a close.   These words that it pains me to write as I hate the thought of separation between me and the ones I love.   As the distances grows larger, I hope and pray that our bounds grow stronger.  

maybe a little cheesy... sorry. Sort of.

I have been a little distracted this summer.  What started out as a half hearted attempt to discover if I still in fact have a heart has lead me to find that I not only do I  have one but it has the capacity to be fuller than I could have ever hoped.   I've heard that good things come to those who wait but that wasn't true, the best things come to those who wait.   The nervousness I felt was a kin to what I expect the jitters before jumping out of a plane feels like.  I took my seat and watched as the rain made the streets glossy.  Before I knew it, 3:00 came and in walked a beautiful blue eye blond haired boy. Silently I thanked God that he looked like his picture and in fact was somehow even better in person.  It's been a few months since that pivotal day in time, and since then I have a new best friend and I've had more adventures than I could have hoped for, and this is just the beginning!  

I guess the moral of the story is that you never know who is right around the corner.  I wasn't expecting anything like this.   

Daisies

                 You, gentle and white sit on a cushion of sunshine. You embody happiness.  

A wise actress, after receiving a bouquet of daisies exclaimed, "Daisies are the friendliest flower."  This is a statement that I stand behind.  

What I love about this flower is the simplicity.  A daisy awakens a youthful joy in me.  I love that they are an every mans flower, they are everywhere in the summer and if there was enough time in the day, bouquets could go for miles.  They dance, and seem to glow in the sunshine.  They are pleased to simply exist.  

Summer time

Those were the days, those lazy summer days when time seemed to stay still.  When a backyard became a jungle or a tree house transformed into a palace.  It was amazing how holding a tiny metal race car felt like I was behind the wheel, or that our dreams still could become a reality.  There was wonder behind every activity and a simplicity in our expectations.  Perhaps this is what the world is missing now.  The child-like innocence and perspective.    Those were the years when things where black and white, and shades of grey were reserved for the shadows on the wall.   Where does this youthful optimism go?   Why do things have to be complicated and intricate? 

happy place

I watched yesterday as a meadow seemed to come alive as wind dusted over it. It seemed as though jolts of lighting-like wind surged through it as patterns formed on the pond in front of me and the grasses sang and swayed happily around me.  As birds played above, diving from great heights down towards the water and then, as if in a moment of panic tilted their noses only to settle in the tall grass, I sat there silently mesmerized by the artistry that surrounded me. From the finesse of the feathered to the harmony created by the wind and grass, the moment felt peaceful as the sun settled in the western sky.


I find myself in moments like this and it's places like this where I can collect my anxious thoughts, and sift through my worries.  There I am gently reminded I can lay my burdens down at the feet of the creator of Heaven and Earth and he cares.


²² And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. ²³ For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. ²⁴ Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! ²⁵ And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?^{[a] 26} If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? ²⁷ Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin,^[b] yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. ²⁸ But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! ²⁹ And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. ³⁰ For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. ³¹ Instead, seek his^[c] kingdom, and these things will be added to you.
³² “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. ³³ Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. ³⁴ For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Luke 12:22-34

Do Not Be Anxious