tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89517559442370428972024-02-06T20:35:25.103-08:00Standing on the EdgeJennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-58822187939777690412010-06-23T16:56:00.001-07:002010-06-23T16:59:39.519-07:00Where I've BeenWhere have I gone? That student-counselor is now graduated and trying to launch into the wide world of employment and creativity. I blog here and there on other sites, but it all feels fragmented. My anonymous self. My professional self. My constantly-updating facebook self. So may faces walking around it's hard to keep track of it all. I'm hardly ever just me, with my hair hanging down and writing from my own place of authenticity. I haven't done art in a good 6 months (I blame the puppy, but that's just an excuse, right?). I've entered a gloomy summer season directionless, broke and clinging to hope that a net will appear as I believe it always will. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitib_xIHL8UZ3h2I_4Ir9TYguu51TmG3jma2HD1ufa84gz77WNdUbi7JuYeQgvBPIXI5c9VO_zjKIrtkdFvII4XiUWRuHdSDA56tGpdhyphenhyphenoMoA-NRV0-gfeg7WCG1HSBVyYsZPMCeslMOE/s1600/roses.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitib_xIHL8UZ3h2I_4Ir9TYguu51TmG3jma2HD1ufa84gz77WNdUbi7JuYeQgvBPIXI5c9VO_zjKIrtkdFvII4XiUWRuHdSDA56tGpdhyphenhyphenoMoA-NRV0-gfeg7WCG1HSBVyYsZPMCeslMOE/s320/roses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486123044789748578" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-47529285794060664912010-04-20T19:46:00.000-07:002010-04-20T20:01:38.316-07:00I Love OzzieOzzie is now a little over 6 months old, and every day I get to spend with him, I am enriched. <br /><br />"It came to me that every time I lose a dog they take a piece of my heart with them. And every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of their heart. If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are."<br /><br />--Unknown<br /><br />Enjoy...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieS3tiOpSAsiqH_DsA_aEa3iWg53NrcZyBppEm7DaY14NjTx_EnO2lN7yKFlJ2gi6M4Gu3vVseeUDzBBZt-zy8nc4iXRwKNwSvRVeiSMJGAUIwDaAz64EpNUjpLCyE-fNEIEMi_rNijkM/s1600/DSCN7854.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieS3tiOpSAsiqH_DsA_aEa3iWg53NrcZyBppEm7DaY14NjTx_EnO2lN7yKFlJ2gi6M4Gu3vVseeUDzBBZt-zy8nc4iXRwKNwSvRVeiSMJGAUIwDaAz64EpNUjpLCyE-fNEIEMi_rNijkM/s320/DSCN7854.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462418991482730178" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikPzjhV_JP2k3K757sAUhI7IrzFNv3UWViK-df5OS6oWs2TX6sKFA1rBg9y1DhijZ2GjgVl05GUzpY2Ppku5V1SFVsLW3NHodcVOg6XEbvsXsBz0aWyPRAk_JjlmX0stST8vjtnPEGUOU/s1600/DSCN7984.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO74grU8oCYq2ICRyIlUovx6miMSNnELwa6kYRQwCm9vkn8SUBNdzVgVwHSsbErpwiMw1dLMDZnJlI68W0LmlRr3529Hwph-VjJhaLr4TnUIA0lZegdCgtYXaa7nB1WrhsrzO7KNE0mQs/s320/DSCN7853.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462418025854067330" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB1QU2k9eXoZrxKi6dXKjHLLaMA0sds8A5z77g4o5wkKm2EwecIJqPItQBw4Ac94b8CgjYOnSZLJOIe0bVWtlw9LalSBUU4Sp7MOZnr3nRXtDejXp-Aqx207rkmb3hlY0Htha-n9cBmg/s1600/DSCN7916.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB1QU2k9eXoZrxKi6dXKjHLLaMA0sds8A5z77g4o5wkKm2EwecIJqPItQBw4Ac94b8CgjYOnSZLJOIe0bVWtlw9LalSBUU4Sp7MOZnr3nRXtDejXp-Aqx207rkmb3hlY0Htha-n9cBmg/s320/DSCN7916.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462417907791817266" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT2_FmHaTnHp9fvf7qnaDBjikgxigzHCypgWBdOKHPws2o0YnUwESRgGmZGg98bi3k_Xn_BTadIqMKYeE1yjOsYLXHAwN9YAEvfN0UyO_qiMYzt7rXjQ2Yc_gEjLpTae53k0bjokBgz0/s1600/DSCN7794.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT2_FmHaTnHp9fvf7qnaDBjikgxigzHCypgWBdOKHPws2o0YnUwESRgGmZGg98bi3k_Xn_BTadIqMKYeE1yjOsYLXHAwN9YAEvfN0UyO_qiMYzt7rXjQ2Yc_gEjLpTae53k0bjokBgz0/s320/DSCN7794.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462417767855388242" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEragLBdEQRoeu11XKtY03I3ow4rugdf7wpZGIuy5RDi9yPyfla-er_opD3FCTBFjofPa3qvxmr8Idtyrjg90819AuA8_fvRiXfWoUoG8D5YHWgUMzw4RRqJCz4lhxM-0MOLyqd-Xv0BU/s1600/DSCN7701.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEragLBdEQRoeu11XKtY03I3ow4rugdf7wpZGIuy5RDi9yPyfla-er_opD3FCTBFjofPa3qvxmr8Idtyrjg90819AuA8_fvRiXfWoUoG8D5YHWgUMzw4RRqJCz4lhxM-0MOLyqd-Xv0BU/s320/DSCN7701.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462417215784118418" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-70163342698194656552010-03-05T18:46:00.000-08:002010-03-05T19:20:48.116-08:00Time Lapse MeditationsIn solidarity with my student-clients, and for the benefit of my own growth, I have been particularly intentional about my mindfulness practice lately. Today I found a unique expression of mindfulness meditation, in the creation of a time-lapse video. <br /><OBJECT id=BLOG_video-18e7d29f2657f2cc class=BLOG_video_class width=320 height=266 contentId="18e7d29f2657f2cc"></OBJECT><br />Inspired by a CNN report that featured people from around the world who had created their own time lapse videos using digital cameras, I thought that this would be a fun way to spend my Ocean Shores vacation. Kyle was off conferencing, and so I got down to business.What struck me, during the process, was how intentional and meditative it actually felt. I was sitting on my porch, or out on a sand-dune, and had my camera balanced on a railing or pole and spent time taking the pictures. <br /><br />click. <br />click. <br />click. <br />click. <br /><br />The repetitiousness of the clicking lulled me into a zen place, and I noticed that I was split simultaneously, as it often happens during meditation. There was this part of me that looked through the viewfinder and noticed the details, or thought "wow, nothing is changing here, this is going to be a boring video to watch back." I noticed thoughts of how pointless the task was, how tedious it would be to edit the photos, or wonderings about who on earth would even watch something like this. Then there was part of me that got to stand back and observe the goings on. I could see how the waves and the dunes were constants, even in their own change, and how people or cars or birds interacted with the environment...perhaps without really even being aware. <br /><br />And I was outside of the story, observing, and inside the story, noticing the minutia, the monotony, the change. <br /><br />It reminds me of working with clients, as we begin to see together how things do change, even if the changes seem imperceptible at first. I know when I've been depressed or sick or anxious, it feels like it has always been this way. Maintaining mindfulness has helped me to see that even when something is uncomfortable, it does change, even if it doesn't mean I'm all happy flowers and rainbows. There are shifts and shades that can be seen when time has elapsed. <br /><br />So I encourage you all to try this, mindfully create a time lapsed piece...and if you do send me the link!Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-10895757320194423272010-02-14T22:00:00.000-08:002010-02-14T22:23:58.000-08:00Don't Get Your Hopes UpSeattle has turned back to the grey mushiness that is typical of winter-turning-into-spring. It stands as a stark contrast to the last few weeks of beautiful weather, where the bulbs began to poke upward into the brilliant sunshine. The earth smelled like spring and I have sported my "Jesus" sandals around town. As someone who struggles with seasonal depression, the sunshine lifted my spirits and I wondered to myself 'could this be the end of winter? could this really be spring?' In an atypical fashion, only harboring a little bit of worry that the weather would take a turn for the worse, I embraced every sunny moment...walks with the pupperoni, trips to the dog park, cappaccinos with friends, and plenty of good conversation. <br /><br />But then, as it is apt to do in Seattle, the rain was back. Winter just wasn't quite through, and while I watched the news of feet and feet of snow covering the rest of the country, I couldn't help but think miserable thoughts about wanting to stay in bed all day, or calling in 'sick' to work. <br /><br />And then, one day, I had a thought. This thought was about the buddhist and mindfulness idea of acceting what is rather than striving that which isn't. This grasping for sunny days was leaving me miserable...living in the past or living in the future, but certainly not mindfully experiencing the moment...rain and all. It's a theme that has been running through my sessions with students lately and so it is no wonder that I get to experienc the wonderful parallel process. <br /><br />So I mindfully embraced the gray Seattle skies, the rain pattering down, and my ability to spend the day inside a sweet little coffee shop and write my Master's thesis. I embraced the wet spot in my leather ballet flats, and the absence of convenient parking in the local grocery store parking lot. <br /><br />And, it was good. <br /><br />When I began to fall asleep that night I had a thought, a reframe of a childhood memory that has plagued me for awhile. It was the phrase my mom used once, when I wanted an ice cream cone when dad came hom eand she said, 'don't get your hopes up.' <br /><br />For so long I attributed this phrase to my underlying pessimism and cynicism, the belief that bad things were going to happen and that at all costs I should expect the worst. <br /><br />But that night I wondered if my mom wasn't in fact embracing a tenet of Buddhism, that somehow she might have been asking me to take a look at life differently, to see that the absence of striving, and living in the moment, in the midst of disappointment or happiness, is what life is all about. Perhaps it wasn't what she intended, perhaps it was an off-hand remark to get a kid to quit whining about dessert, and perhaps I spent too many years thinking her advice meant one thing, when in fact it could have meant something entirely different. <br /><br />It doesn't matter now, though, does it? The journey has led me to this place, and right now, in this moment, the idea of 'not getting my hopes up' melds perfectly with the ideal of not striving, and so for this moment I will be mindful, even if it's raining. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRawvEdOqwmN8tot8HTVIjR0J9QkanC2XJjc2ugXInbpuWRLHcp8lA-L-SqI5TS33W6KaElEDr49wvceZ8KzZxldzwUFjEwfsabf91Leb6_zR3Tl5KTm7WtJUMBTT5GaMJhj284Gi8u4/s1600-h/DSCN0338.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRawvEdOqwmN8tot8HTVIjR0J9QkanC2XJjc2ugXInbpuWRLHcp8lA-L-SqI5TS33W6KaElEDr49wvceZ8KzZxldzwUFjEwfsabf91Leb6_zR3Tl5KTm7WtJUMBTT5GaMJhj284Gi8u4/s320/DSCN0338.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438351795803110210" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-26501077571603224062009-12-08T16:39:00.001-08:002009-12-08T16:46:09.068-08:00Puppy Ozzie<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZ16X14KJFz0PIuMqPCSZ5EAHLStoFOqOykgHxHrCn7rJBEFgTc-AzVuY0iHoLlh3A-6WuA-6wjM1tnQQwRVpTQKQJj1-9gBQpsNdNayv45Gj6W-8rpaKlcwAjk1EufpJvqvFV2DVJMw/s1600-h/DSCN4790.JPG"><img style="display:block; 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margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghuizpG6_7wEGRG52bIoQuBuZwl7bW8mtVOGSWzk4P7VtK9EV-1qZJSAPAB3koXxht-EY5RXnttU2EH2hliJm8GZJc2WzWS5DCPwO9krQAkexhfPP9inxnhFFOkOvFlGKg5F2PUf_Bh8w/s320/DSCN4777.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413030515482503074" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRuU2RHOlyk4RcuHMHNB7KMuRH5kkwzbNSP3LlyaVfK6VLDet7YkhRFLbqvUD-Ppr56C3ArVd_f7url77hGlKlimJq0DhdYBJSyciYLMcsvSJGOg5uXrF-zKKhLS_awbEk0v-I6SZCjC0/s1600-h/DSCN4775.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRuU2RHOlyk4RcuHMHNB7KMuRH5kkwzbNSP3LlyaVfK6VLDet7YkhRFLbqvUD-Ppr56C3ArVd_f7url77hGlKlimJq0DhdYBJSyciYLMcsvSJGOg5uXrF-zKKhLS_awbEk0v-I6SZCjC0/s320/DSCN4775.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413030423059669858" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUDJKBCoppUeuItaukT5AwNpf4WSU7RqTkUj8hoylF1QractBkaK7_1B-dLDSlu39f0tWMMOH25bLJ3rwjW0dSeEfJJqvR_HvZSOcyq6pfZ3RIHLVvxgfBapjZDE-vUQOhiZVG3fOPAA/s1600-h/DSCN4768.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUDJKBCoppUeuItaukT5AwNpf4WSU7RqTkUj8hoylF1QractBkaK7_1B-dLDSlu39f0tWMMOH25bLJ3rwjW0dSeEfJJqvR_HvZSOcyq6pfZ3RIHLVvxgfBapjZDE-vUQOhiZVG3fOPAA/s320/DSCN4768.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413030305021444802" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpy7upHSwGnRm04Hf3_U1IZMjdekZnS6pvLT_5rlaiWLDv4Tcg7AHz_cPBjgtHxZcRcgjP6YUvlNI3iP3r79TCCee74aPQsLFgQJNWEJ846e__LFhJYlSycnUiMhzSxB1Udnt4cWWC2M4/s1600-h/DSCN4784.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpy7upHSwGnRm04Hf3_U1IZMjdekZnS6pvLT_5rlaiWLDv4Tcg7AHz_cPBjgtHxZcRcgjP6YUvlNI3iP3r79TCCee74aPQsLFgQJNWEJ846e__LFhJYlSycnUiMhzSxB1Udnt4cWWC2M4/s320/DSCN4784.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413030152734699826" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhj0AE21Si6oTUR5CCD4Dy7ZM9EZyW8r0jEvjeodeXKyeD4HtO5C5MHGYVfXjnS-kb38sSr1Lx61J5OX31BRfwctvKw_05nhExPSJwX9WCarqOUT0DOwRMw1emPHExHl8mDFMkavhSCk/s1600-h/DSCN4752.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhj0AE21Si6oTUR5CCD4Dy7ZM9EZyW8r0jEvjeodeXKyeD4HtO5C5MHGYVfXjnS-kb38sSr1Lx61J5OX31BRfwctvKw_05nhExPSJwX9WCarqOUT0DOwRMw1emPHExHl8mDFMkavhSCk/s320/DSCN4752.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413030046265717538" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30mq6gG3hRFrXOck2NU2ELzdIIXrNTpoLzkJNGdGn61ARR2WVCWWoVF7aixoDD-yaCVZYLpW9XxfipKW01vxFjbAU6swIAQG0_4OQOQVGRLAmgKZ5zDcgbuYcnbOfaVTsq8RF0wf8-SU/s1600-h/DSCN4749.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh30mq6gG3hRFrXOck2NU2ELzdIIXrNTpoLzkJNGdGn61ARR2WVCWWoVF7aixoDD-yaCVZYLpW9XxfipKW01vxFjbAU6swIAQG0_4OQOQVGRLAmgKZ5zDcgbuYcnbOfaVTsq8RF0wf8-SU/s320/DSCN4749.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413029921826386498" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-36452983778479859652009-11-09T18:25:00.000-08:002009-11-09T20:01:47.689-08:00Speak to Me Grandma<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMjSeSDPQieZnuzFmE2Midgeey2FI8TQnKI6mcZKNPU-1yzAQVZU6GIsPsjgfWSZ67trbKBLehgZh3hQe2zcsvUM0BwWAhq-1-nN8KFPQMQPE6WB7NtVavUsEXgZihauN8ujWaGkgIdw/s1600-h/transforming+loss.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMjSeSDPQieZnuzFmE2Midgeey2FI8TQnKI6mcZKNPU-1yzAQVZU6GIsPsjgfWSZ67trbKBLehgZh3hQe2zcsvUM0BwWAhq-1-nN8KFPQMQPE6WB7NtVavUsEXgZihauN8ujWaGkgIdw/s320/transforming+loss.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402295694945474146" /></a><br /><br />Speak to me Grandma I’m alone in my thoughts<br />Speak to me Grandma You’re at home with the thought...<br />There’s a wind blowing off the top of Divide<br />Through the valley of our old St. Mary<br />You have thrice earned the rest that you’ve got<br />And the cross your fingers carry to beyond... <br />Now, I really can’t believe that you’re gone. <br /><br />Speak to me Grandma, stories blossom in you <br />Speak to me Grandma legend blended with truth.<br />And your words brushed a portrait for us<br />In the Valley of our old St. Mary<br />Your eyes were the light for us<br />When our bodies couldn’t carry us beyond...<br />Now, I really can’t believe that you’re gone.<br /><br />You felt the buffalo go<br />You heard the stagecoach roll<br />You saw booming Altyn rise and fall<br />You rode your pony upon<br />Moccasin Flat at century’s dawn<br />The trails became roads<br />and the roads became old...<br />We listened to the stories that you told.<br />You wed a man from the north<br />Then ten fine children came forth<br />Alex still is your groom. <br />You were the center of us. <br />Still in our valley we trust <br />The vision of St. Mary <br />appeared upon the lake <br />And leaves me in this fast-closing wake.<br /><br />Speak to me Grandma I’m alone in my thoughts<br />Speak to me Grandma You’re at home with the thought... <br />There’s a wind blowing off the top of Divide <br />Through the valley of our old St. Mary <br />You have thrice earned the rest that you’ve got <br />And the cross your fingers carry to beyond... <br />Now, I really can’t believe that you’re gone. <br /><br />There’s a wind blowing off the top of Divide <br />Through the valley of our old St. Mary <br />You have thrice earned the rest that you’ve got <br />And the cross your fingers carry to beyond... <br />Now, I really can’t believe that you’re gone. <br />No I really can’t believe<br />It’s so hard to imagine.<br />I really don’t believe that you’re gone. <br />-Jack GladstoneJennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-57514043879531893752009-10-27T12:08:00.000-07:002009-10-27T12:18:39.732-07:00Pain MeditationPain is an intrinsic part of being born in a physical body, as the Buddha has taught. In reality, aging and sickness begin the moment we enter the world. Yet we are conditioned to ward off all pain. We are unwilling to allow the pain simply to happen...<br /><br />Paradoxically, once we are willing to work with pain, we feel that it is not all bad. Pain is a riveting object of attention; to paraphrase Samuel Johnson, it concentrates the mind wonderfully. If we leave the breath and direct attention to whatever physical sensation is in the body, allowing ourselves to be present with whatever has arisen, the mind doesn’t tend to wander very much. If we are truly aware of the sensations, we find that pain can focus and calm the mind. There can be joy that arises with this concentration. We are not scattered. The mind is happily focused.<br /><br />- Gavin Harrison, from “Working With Pain,” Tricycle, Winter 2002<br /><br />I am at work, after a few days of not-quite-unbearable-but-pretty-darn-close back pain, that has left me sleeping with the aid of Tylenol PM and awake with hot packs and Aleve. I'm managing, but it's much nicer to be sitting on a couch than in an office at a computer. Ergonomics are not my strong suit, and to try and adjust a computer on a desk that isn't mine, with my chair height (these long legs are annoying sometimes), it leaves me sitting up high and looking down low which leads to a turtle-head neck forward position. And the rest of my time is spent in a chair listening to people (who get distracted if I squirm too much). <br /><br />So it's my lunch break (and yes I'm blogging instead of eating), and I come across this daily dharma quote over at Tricycle.com and it speaks perfectly into my experience today. The pain is bringing me into an awareness of my body, of my physical being in the room with another person. I notice when they take a deep breath after a long story, and when I am tensing my abs and restricting my own breathing. I am aware of a lump of irritation in my left shoulder and I do wonder, why is it crying right now, and what is it trying to tell me?<br /><br />I don't know what it would be like to not have some pain, an ache here or there, and while I wish I didn't have to live like this, I wonder if living in the physical experience is part of what it's all about. So maybe, today my focus will be on the pain, instead of the removal of the pain.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-72704782654901773272009-10-02T22:44:00.000-07:002009-10-02T22:46:34.050-07:00We have years and years left together...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1fsMFs9SN1wAfFQ2WKZixQkNKnvTDRbBCyhmt1HL5dBFLq6c4DF3j3ofDtmyoi3U66RV-MXeXtULOiGQkC1nGDj_PlR8x740KYc_agrj4BqGaTxg5XitD6jJOsqhrjKW6jzy5cb16uM/s1600-h/photo+booth.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 126px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1fsMFs9SN1wAfFQ2WKZixQkNKnvTDRbBCyhmt1HL5dBFLq6c4DF3j3ofDtmyoi3U66RV-MXeXtULOiGQkC1nGDj_PlR8x740KYc_agrj4BqGaTxg5XitD6jJOsqhrjKW6jzy5cb16uM/s320/photo+booth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388245625283668098" /></a><br /><br /><br />These are my little sisters. I love being in reunion with them, and despite our age gap, I feel like we get along famously. Last weekend I got to spend time with them, and even taught Libby to tie her shoe! Such special memories, and I think that shows in our photo-booth extravaganza!Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-1014934969037817192009-09-23T19:05:00.000-07:002009-09-23T19:07:39.850-07:00playing with wax<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xK0lu0-nbJRvc5E8UVMdTbqlpC2YLdsa4WupGoO6GE7uKYyhoAZsaLkAc_7H4Vau24v17XqoaR1i96FH0KvOpqbWJbZf2ExGbCf9_BvEVEAbZEDLNqqo9g6F1JL-vUxt20EC23WSwMk/s1600-h/if+evil+was+wax.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xK0lu0-nbJRvc5E8UVMdTbqlpC2YLdsa4WupGoO6GE7uKYyhoAZsaLkAc_7H4Vau24v17XqoaR1i96FH0KvOpqbWJbZf2ExGbCf9_BvEVEAbZEDLNqqo9g6F1JL-vUxt20EC23WSwMk/s320/if+evil+was+wax.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384849794902018354" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRMr5J9kpnBKoJt-yRwCeS4_N4uqQNdoYE06jVjL2Sll28cDxP1Sk5CG5rgpEVnFZeW4sVGkW3VucQCO2LGcTTtUV0xh0PdcrlrkL5eECDDOcODFnlST0zgMeJU6mE2sBt6JLcHL-dAU/s1600-h/pink+and+gold.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRMr5J9kpnBKoJt-yRwCeS4_N4uqQNdoYE06jVjL2Sll28cDxP1Sk5CG5rgpEVnFZeW4sVGkW3VucQCO2LGcTTtUV0xh0PdcrlrkL5eECDDOcODFnlST0zgMeJU6mE2sBt6JLcHL-dAU/s320/pink+and+gold.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384849669536168866" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7Ia92OVHhDTobtHzRu2KstodDb9kbw4xHG57d8woo8FINnnlujQtzzvnmvhkQcVO0Htp-knuYsKWct0DHnc_w41k_Zci4TYCokwr0WutWVJNQE1wu_wQE41KkC5n2LctKa3xwuRdnjg/s1600-h/blue+and+green.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7Ia92OVHhDTobtHzRu2KstodDb9kbw4xHG57d8woo8FINnnlujQtzzvnmvhkQcVO0Htp-knuYsKWct0DHnc_w41k_Zci4TYCokwr0WutWVJNQE1wu_wQE41KkC5n2LctKa3xwuRdnjg/s320/blue+and+green.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384849518120896210" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRtKmOzsQ5Ch3la-yhKKsIc-dFOqt-Dh8abUmCAWzKhZdfpjjCtbDhiLxw8Z4-8MQmFG2g315IYcE34NNmkVGvK7DYw8J8MZkZCIymdbb97DONuK4CVT6xl69eyxwQApm8OcVa6kP6Hc/s1600-h/pink+wind.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRtKmOzsQ5Ch3la-yhKKsIc-dFOqt-Dh8abUmCAWzKhZdfpjjCtbDhiLxw8Z4-8MQmFG2g315IYcE34NNmkVGvK7DYw8J8MZkZCIymdbb97DONuK4CVT6xl69eyxwQApm8OcVa6kP6Hc/s320/pink+wind.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384849422001975842" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-40347175427989697942009-09-10T12:12:00.000-07:002009-09-10T12:17:29.385-07:00Animal GuidesThis summer has been filled with dreams. Normally I pay only partial attention to my dreams, but sometimes there are dreams that impact me so much that I even find myself thinking about them during the day. The dreams lately have involved animals, specifically cougars, wolves and bears. The animals don't appear all at one time, rather it began with cougars just being there, and then a few weeks later it was wolves and then bears. And both the wolves and bears morphed into native american men and spoke to me. So I did a few soul collage cards to just try and put these out into reality, rather than being in my head :)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETvbJO84PZEKiI5biW1Bfy6nPOpjM-yk_4rkYVUR_KJ42aYC_qF3CdCR25kziMxHuo5BtYPl4jkOWEQq9SFIt7zMJaHbuYggPNDofS0vn9k7wN1tGe2OrCfMP8DM__1tYkPp4BRUu62k/s1600-h/DSCN4249.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETvbJO84PZEKiI5biW1Bfy6nPOpjM-yk_4rkYVUR_KJ42aYC_qF3CdCR25kziMxHuo5BtYPl4jkOWEQq9SFIt7zMJaHbuYggPNDofS0vn9k7wN1tGe2OrCfMP8DM__1tYkPp4BRUu62k/s320/DSCN4249.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379919275279525762" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUpKyoHdo8ufROFRnhyphenhyphenXNaIo_b9uEpHx86fWdlE-IPlyOI_3vWmyPI68_VA7uGjHsNLXa9TxadRkh_F5DsyUkUpBItYqJ_Y7LaMCS1FRCrTLxy1_JN_i0ugDRWg1rSHIwBFZde84-SNU/s1600-h/DSCN4251.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUpKyoHdo8ufROFRnhyphenhyphenXNaIo_b9uEpHx86fWdlE-IPlyOI_3vWmyPI68_VA7uGjHsNLXa9TxadRkh_F5DsyUkUpBItYqJ_Y7LaMCS1FRCrTLxy1_JN_i0ugDRWg1rSHIwBFZde84-SNU/s320/DSCN4251.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379919170918652658" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1rQ9X6Zl_q8oB7pXqYfC5xD2MsyGVkWFVOPCQQokNVKSkxj1f1G2v6I0dSGDYSQ7Bbjy7BcLecBo-Lc459Nd6-CxgQ7Oy1MUxrGXuaRZgROPoivsyOASFlDCJmIt4Jm-rUInC5VeKJY/s1600-h/DSCN4250.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio1rQ9X6Zl_q8oB7pXqYfC5xD2MsyGVkWFVOPCQQokNVKSkxj1f1G2v6I0dSGDYSQ7Bbjy7BcLecBo-Lc459Nd6-CxgQ7Oy1MUxrGXuaRZgROPoivsyOASFlDCJmIt4Jm-rUInC5VeKJY/s320/DSCN4250.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379919056343759026" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-28929031298716258472009-08-06T13:15:00.000-07:002009-08-06T13:44:19.418-07:00Early MemoriesWe literally have hundreds of thousands of interactions and experiences in our lifetime, so why, when we look back over our life, do we have specific memories. Why, when we think of childhood, do we remember very specific events and don't remember others? <br /><br />As a counselor I have been exploring this (both internally with myself) and processing it with clients. According to my supervisor, "of the thousands of experiences we each have in childhood, we remember those few that symbolically reinforce our lifestyle and belief system (S. Maybell). <br /><br />An exercise I have had people do, is think about an early memory, describe it, and talk about how they were feeling in the memory. Because this is my blog, I thought I'd share a little bit about my own experience with this (don't you just love parallel processes in clients and therapists?)<br /><br />When I was 4 years old I went on a trip with my parents and my little brother through the Redwoods. On this trip, we stopped to see the statue of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox. Experiencing this tourist trap later put perspective on my memory, but as a child I was completely mesmerized with this statue, who was so tall AND Paul Bunyan talked. Children would come up to the statue and talk to Paul and he would answer them. I remember my parents telling me it was time to go back to the car, and a booming voice said "I will be able to hear and see you at your car." I remember feeling both awed (that Paul Bunyan answered me and said that he could see and hear me) and also a bit frightened (for the same reasons). <br /><br />Looking back, as an adult, I realize that the statue wasn't really talking to me, that it was the guy in the control booth next to the statue. But somehow this memory has stuck with me...so if we keep and think about certain memories because the reinforce our way of viewing the world, then what does this memory say about my worldview?<br /><br />There are several different things to look for in a memory:<br />1) self-image<br />2) world-view<br />3) gender<br />4) relationships<br />5) values<br />6) goals<br />7) achievement of goals (s. maybell)<br /><br />Not all memories reinforce all areas, but it is fun to try and tease out which ones do apply. In my case, I think the biggest thing that I notice, is that this Paul Bunyan image is similar to how I viewed God. God was BIG and a man and could speak in a booming voice from above, both 'seeing' and 'hearing me' no matter how far away I was. And yet, Paul Bunyan had been silent all the time I had been around him, and it was only when I was leaving that I heard his voice. I see myself as small and unable to make my own choices, as I am directed by my parents. My parents are right and I must comply. <br /><br />So I challenge you to do one of your own memories. Don't worry about doing it perfectly or choosing the earliest memory. It's a fun experiment, and it's teaching me a lot about myself. Now I can see where I got some beliefs and I can choose, now as an adult, to say "um, those aren't working for me anymore. those were created in childhood from a memory and they no longer apply."Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-22544503516358892352009-07-24T13:11:00.000-07:002009-07-24T13:24:08.940-07:00the beat of my OWN drumFor awhile now I have wanted to buy a drum. while I'm not yet prepared to join a drum circle, I wanted something that I could make music with, as well as something functional and small that I could bring to Sounders games and join in the merry music-making. <br /><br />I had been perusing online and found a few drums that I liked, but I was on my way to my favorite East West bookshop and saw this shop called Ten Thousdand Villages, and thought "hmm, that looks interesting, I think I'll go inside." <br /><br />Lo and behold, this shop combined many of my loves and desires all in one place. It is a fair-trade shop that sells hand-crafted pieces from all over the world. At first I thought it would just supply me with my need to Indianify my place, but there was a whole table of drums...and they were so reasonably priced ($25+) that I just had to buy one. So I picked up a goat-skin/mango wood drum made in indonesia, and away I went. <br /><br />While I had been researching drums, I had also been looking at drawings that people have done on their drums, to add a little flavor. I love henna and in my online research (you know, the internet is truly a wonderful thing in this regard) I found many people who had painted their drums with henna. So while I don't have any henna materials (and was too impatient to go through the whole process...maybe on my next drum!) I used a Pentel marker that is eerily similar looking to real henna. <br /><br />The process of drawing on the drum was relatively easy. I used a compass and a rule to get the basic circles and radial points, but I mostly just freehanded everything. I was surprised at just how meditative the whole process was. It makes me wish I was independently wealthy and could just draw on drums all day! :)<br /><br />Here's my "finished" product (I think I want to add a few more embellishments, but I'm happy with how it looks now and I don't want to make it too busy).<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiF1p7Np2ZPvPyzvi0C7_YhyphenhyphenAs0_xajbdt8p_OKsHGAs-xfnAUM-fCm8LHCiFRLZFceXx2pJjG4CIohe9DFal7HfCJx7dwRAyGIIkgvjy8MnrY2YHuDRpE1tCrenGfople4CjaaN8MpAc/s1600-h/DSCN3866.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362122564329444098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiF1p7Np2ZPvPyzvi0C7_YhyphenhyphenAs0_xajbdt8p_OKsHGAs-xfnAUM-fCm8LHCiFRLZFceXx2pJjG4CIohe9DFal7HfCJx7dwRAyGIIkgvjy8MnrY2YHuDRpE1tCrenGfople4CjaaN8MpAc/s320/DSCN3866.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><br />Already I love playing it, and I get to break it out in public tomorrow at the Sounders game!<br /><br />So cheers to following the beat of my OWN drum!Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-48220366487083364852009-07-07T12:58:00.000-07:002009-07-07T13:14:02.317-07:00Don't Hold Your Breath"Don't hold your breath," is a phrase I grew up hearing. It ran in the same circles as "don't get your hopes up," and "there are starving children in India, so finish your dinner." I always thought the phrase meant not to get too excited about something ala not getting your hopes up (which is a phrase I took too to heart for a long time), but yesterday I noticed a shift, a way of looking at the phrase differently than I had previously.<br /><br />I have been noticing and focusing on my breath and breathwork in general for awhile now. And yesterday, as I was lying on a massage table (with a cat companion nestled at my feet), I was noticing my breath. Courtney asks me to take deep breaths during the massage, especially when she's working on a particular area. So I was thoughtfully noticing when I don't breathe...when I hold my breath (which is contrary to the advice in 'don't hold your breath.')<br /><br />I came to two conclusions. 1) I hold my breath in anticipation of pain. When I sense she's getting close to a spot that might hurt, I hold my breath, as if that tensing or tightening and restriction would somehow divert her hands to a less tender spot and help me avoid confronting the source of my tension. This goes for more areas than just in my massage...I hold my breath, in a failed attempt at bargaining...to keep the pain at bay. Of course it doesn't work, but for a moment it gives me a sense of a little bit of control, though my muscles are much tighter afterward... 2) I hold my breath when I am trying to prolong the pleasure. Sometimes a spot feels so good when it's touched, and in an attempt to not miss out on any aspect of the goodness, I hold my breath. It's as though I could make that moment last forever if I just stay completely still and absent of breathing. Rather than truly, fully experiencing the moment, I'm worried about it fleeing, which is also about control, and in effect I lose out on the power of really experiencing the moment.<br /><br />So, for today I will try not to hold my breath...I will embrace and ride the waves of both pleasure and pain...Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-70228200762673438992009-06-27T20:03:00.000-07:002009-06-27T20:19:40.685-07:00Soul LossFor awhile now I have been interested in the concept of soul loss (and subsequently the shamanic process of soul retrieval) and how it related to dissociation through trauma. People often say "I lost a little piece of me," when they dated someone and broke up, or some other situation. Sometimes I feel like I sacrifice a piece of me when I don't hold true to my values and am swayed by my peers, or get swept up into behavior that I believe I wouldn't normally do in other circumstances. I feel like all of these little soul losses really affect me as a person...that who I'd be now is very different (perhaps better, perhaps worse) than the person I am...and that looking back there are definitely different lessons that I can learn from all of these little traumas.<br /><br />So this summer I am enrolled in a Loss & Grief counseling class, and one of our assignments is to complete a project that gives form to some personal loss or grieving experience. When I learned what our assignment was, I decided that I would do an art project...and what better project than Soul Collage? I find it fitting to represent aspects of my soul with aspects that I believe I have lost, or that have changed me. They are there, even if they aren't integrated. These bits of my soul that have left for whatever reason are still connected to me in a very real way.<br /><br />I have spent the last two days working on these Soul Collage cards, and these are what I have come up with:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcDCyhU8eqy4vGNj9y3b5oT9SOI3EO7tufxZg1Cf7QvjEhWjPUkkp_PVqW-XI-hvSoNldcs2KFs2S35u_SVq28P_T7KhJZI5YW6b0tZ-YralrUkdqUCDvgG2GFtUhX7MUIwEhyphenhyphenmkEbfE/s1600-h/Birth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352209357956496946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIcDCyhU8eqy4vGNj9y3b5oT9SOI3EO7tufxZg1Cf7QvjEhWjPUkkp_PVqW-XI-hvSoNldcs2KFs2S35u_SVq28P_T7KhJZI5YW6b0tZ-YralrUkdqUCDvgG2GFtUhX7MUIwEhyphenhyphenmkEbfE/s320/Birth.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The loss of the "who I could have been," if my story had begun differently...or if Elisa had taken route B instead of route A...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6WDND5cS_P86LtFwQ-Va3MQXBSjPdYORevstB7IoI2qBlv1uzyRgWCStoz0RnXaBQGatLyoCtA48OWgaBhmx-9l8Gc0kb0_RIyb8ipGbq4FG6P2io0EzZIgDb1ZN3zmcVuSjDttt2jg/s1600-h/Fourteen+Years.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352209243837761346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6WDND5cS_P86LtFwQ-Va3MQXBSjPdYORevstB7IoI2qBlv1uzyRgWCStoz0RnXaBQGatLyoCtA48OWgaBhmx-9l8Gc0kb0_RIyb8ipGbq4FG6P2io0EzZIgDb1ZN3zmcVuSjDttt2jg/s320/Fourteen+Years.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The young teenager I left behind when I moved to Yakima. This bit of my soul believed in elves and fairies and talked to animals while walking outside.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5D7p1Qs95WlgsN_Whs7tFnWn6Bjb4dX7CNeP-Os5CHT7gZpF7_FhGKn0Qptj9055oo6uV5wIrvHSKh5CSOY1dlVKUx4a5kpIrjidrERSYeJmBXh9w-3wFLkgzPQvPM3BJCuALCi4oL5U/s1600-h/Break+Up.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352209138345612162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5D7p1Qs95WlgsN_Whs7tFnWn6Bjb4dX7CNeP-Os5CHT7gZpF7_FhGKn0Qptj9055oo6uV5wIrvHSKh5CSOY1dlVKUx4a5kpIrjidrERSYeJmBXh9w-3wFLkgzPQvPM3BJCuALCi4oL5U/s320/Break+Up.jpg" border="0" /></a> When you lose yourself in dysfunctional and overbearing romantic relationships. When you forget you are whole, 100% as a person and begin to believe the lie that you are less-than-worthy.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFxoNjc873Rjv2Wq1cH1_znaSLvlOhZH_OSWKW82Is_TxvirsEbkUpCgDcyI5yAJ-l2l_c3VurlIDWT2f2brjgNEnOWJEWDoHLvHgOnrPRLb_EY8VWCY3sY7MjdhWyPV3MJos-Lu7ZMs/s1600-h/Jenn+and+Julie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352209037872275794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFxoNjc873Rjv2Wq1cH1_znaSLvlOhZH_OSWKW82Is_TxvirsEbkUpCgDcyI5yAJ-l2l_c3VurlIDWT2f2brjgNEnOWJEWDoHLvHgOnrPRLb_EY8VWCY3sY7MjdhWyPV3MJos-Lu7ZMs/s320/Jenn+and+Julie.jpg" border="0" /></a> Friends who leave footprints on our hearts, but because of my inability to communicate, are lost to the "we can't go back" and change it moments in life.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPbs8806mYock9SbmbTM-1gzIyaM2HF951-gqDdHrLScmHmktHARSdesuxxVsugJalIcHTP4_fT8QaLolEpVZ-JuZyB9DxgJcIgRHumJkxfSbqNyvoi-WZ39Eb4bePrUQhzOT3afQUeo/s1600-h/Fundamentalist.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352208913833129714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPbs8806mYock9SbmbTM-1gzIyaM2HF951-gqDdHrLScmHmktHARSdesuxxVsugJalIcHTP4_fT8QaLolEpVZ-JuZyB9DxgJcIgRHumJkxfSbqNyvoi-WZ39Eb4bePrUQhzOT3afQUeo/s320/Fundamentalist.jpg" border="0" /></a> Leaving the small conservative flock to embrace the truth of what I really believe.<br /><br /><br />I know I have a lot more writing to do to get to the depth of these cards, but I have felt that this is a good start on my project!Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-11030534374410806702009-06-26T16:03:00.000-07:002009-06-26T20:31:49.102-07:00Iranian ProtestI am obsessed with this photo, which I found on CNN. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkbnggH9Z_HkRos-_UgEwb1Ppe7l-ZwCFI-R3IEEAFq-M_9tkPsa83lkoYkrcKFCkHfpHybbUhrEeKXBMGsZSt3jz8B6IDR7R4JAcq-X_9RrLC8UNi0ARoVZLqAw9tTfrXZtMLRZnClk/s1600-h/iranian+protesters.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351775932424474498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkbnggH9Z_HkRos-_UgEwb1Ppe7l-ZwCFI-R3IEEAFq-M_9tkPsa83lkoYkrcKFCkHfpHybbUhrEeKXBMGsZSt3jz8B6IDR7R4JAcq-X_9RrLC8UNi0ARoVZLqAw9tTfrXZtMLRZnClk/s320/iranian+protesters.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm not exactly sure why it evokes so much emotion in me, but I can't help but stare at these powerful women in awe. It evokes memories of how I felt the first time I saw this photo, in National Geographic:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcfpLRo85u-GusRyDhu3TK9RdjIapoFtYxBYZFys2BFnhBWD3UNASMG-Itjm5AqdZQcNlOI9Mp5LdgDeAejNpUQomb5gs1tw3Ntq-uMQaNIWWUZJnO_Mbd4LHqWiSF6XrKENWvV1NvZmI/s1600-h/muslim+woman.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351776513697878162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcfpLRo85u-GusRyDhu3TK9RdjIapoFtYxBYZFys2BFnhBWD3UNASMG-Itjm5AqdZQcNlOI9Mp5LdgDeAejNpUQomb5gs1tw3Ntq-uMQaNIWWUZJnO_Mbd4LHqWiSF6XrKENWvV1NvZmI/s320/muslim+woman.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There is something so powerfully fierce and feminine in these women which resonates in me. I wish I could embody the fierceness and the feminine inside my own soul.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-26701350018230250192009-06-16T16:13:00.001-07:002009-06-17T11:49:39.530-07:00I am "In" this photoCourtney, of http://oriart.blogspot.com/ challenged us to: find yourself in a photo you've taken. The catch: you are not actually (physically) in the photo at all. Feel free to post in the comments box and link to your photo w/a statement of how you are "in" the photo. <br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LRlRwlb9UGfcIitJ0PkIgxsHxedZbmIvaKScJ28cl63frFKi9_H48pJqItbFCkBdJ2_yb0rDfHaJnHLEJ5wqj_FioqqQ-CclXfchWQ5Q1hmzd-EL72IM98dSlZoP7hLUU5k8j65UBCc/s1600-h/DSCN2214.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LRlRwlb9UGfcIitJ0PkIgxsHxedZbmIvaKScJ28cl63frFKi9_H48pJqItbFCkBdJ2_yb0rDfHaJnHLEJ5wqj_FioqqQ-CclXfchWQ5Q1hmzd-EL72IM98dSlZoP7hLUU5k8j65UBCc/s320/DSCN2214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348067729495997602" /></a><br /><br />(click to enlarge)<br /><br /><br />I am the line between color and black and white.<br />I am the kiss between fog and ocean waves. <br />I am that gull, standing alone not swayed easily by the flighty crowd.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-39721671506513113612009-06-03T21:16:00.001-07:002009-06-03T21:19:20.216-07:00TruthIt feels SO good to be able to stand in front of my peers and speak MY truth...and the truth of my adopted friends. The feedback I got from the presentation tonight was awesome...they all came away understanding that adoption is based on loss for all of those involved...<br /><br />I am on cloud 9.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-34880293672708355072009-05-25T21:25:00.000-07:002009-05-25T21:27:30.690-07:00Past, Present, Future<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilK9-F3HOaulW8GwsXy4wVw_m4rdm-iwMz7kJb8OgkaoIL_Z32A7-7wtyAin7EN1lQVKgbIvKwstnHl5ry5hZZ5C_QI8Rj0ZWOmmMYRZxYeOvIzYjtjo3AGxhIR-WgfA3ni3lGgvWdUZc/s1600-h/DSCN3606.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339984185520927874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilK9-F3HOaulW8GwsXy4wVw_m4rdm-iwMz7kJb8OgkaoIL_Z32A7-7wtyAin7EN1lQVKgbIvKwstnHl5ry5hZZ5C_QI8Rj0ZWOmmMYRZxYeOvIzYjtjo3AGxhIR-WgfA3ni3lGgvWdUZc/s320/DSCN3606.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><br />Though he doesn't understand it all, he knows how important it is to me...so he framed and hung my artwork in our hallway.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-27832176853506163522009-05-21T08:30:00.000-07:002009-05-21T08:46:46.617-07:00Divine FeminineRecently I joined a meetup group called "A Woman's Spiritual Pursuit," and attended Tuesday night for the first time, as the topic was Soul Collage.<br /><br />Soul Collage is a "simple creative process used to explore the depth of your soul." In the process you engage "your intuition and imagination" by using "images and personal symbols to create a powerful deck of cards that tap into your inner guidance." The process is not new to me, as I use my intuition in creating art, and have even done some pieces with different archetypes, but the focused intentionality of this workshop was awesome.<br /><br />We began with an exercise, picking an image that spoke to us, and gave it voice by speaking as the image, saying "I am the one who..." What I loved about this process is it accessed parts of myself that I don't often give voice...and it is something that I know I'd be able to use with clients in the future. A form of narrative therapy is to externalize problems, so rather than saying "I AM depressed," we say "I have depression," or "depression has me." If we are not the same as depression we can separate these parts out and have them talk to each other.<br /><br />I dare you to try it. Be it anger or depression or simply an image ripped out of a magazine, they are parts and parcels of us, and we can give them voices.<br /><br />So tonight's intention was to creat a card that represented our divine feminine, and this is what I created:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASR1L4Pcnv9GEJIgajfnxdEggOCIYZLgEPq73-YcEbwZ9ogmD4JPfRGX3BnIsg1M6t-TtSdla-dCfWOor9Kzj3MmG1Ijb3bqXqu2fzXg7BOGXAab1ju9AH5H92WeeuXV9EbiHRye1nbM/s1600-h/divine+feminine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338300142156487138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjASR1L4Pcnv9GEJIgajfnxdEggOCIYZLgEPq73-YcEbwZ9ogmD4JPfRGX3BnIsg1M6t-TtSdla-dCfWOor9Kzj3MmG1Ijb3bqXqu2fzXg7BOGXAab1ju9AH5H92WeeuXV9EbiHRye1nbM/s320/divine+feminine.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><br />When journalling my responses, this is what came up:<br /><br />I am the one who is with you in every stage of your life.<br />I am the one who provides passion and security, and takes care of you in your quietest moments.<br /><br />What I have to give you is permission to be yourself, groundedness, and the ability to embrace what comes about.<br /><br />What I want from you is nurturing acceptance, a place to call home, and recognition in even the smallest tasks.<br /><br />When we had all finished the process of making our card, we met back as a group and shared our pieces. We then did a group reading, where we drew random cards and asked a group question and let the same process flow through us as we all went around the room answering the question, by giving voice to the card we had drawn.<br /><br />Our questions were:<br />How do we embrace the presence of the feminine and how do we bring balance between the masculine and feminine in our lives?<br /><br />You embrace the presence of the feminine by:<br />Taking time to nurture yourself, feel softness, warmth, your spirituality through every life phase from birth to death.<br />By tending to our souls fire by allowing ourselves to bloom, by opening the pages of the mystery.<br />By letting down our hair, being playful, sincere, opening ourselves to our sensuality, sensitivity, love and playfulness.<br />Through being sexy, being strong, but soft.<br />Embracing, nurturing ourselves and others to open our minds to infinite possibilities to be who we want to be in the moment.<br />Shutting our eyes, throwing our heads back and letting the freedom move us in any way it wishes.<br />By living fully in the present and seeing beauty in all things.<br /><br />You bring balance between masculine and feminine by:<br />Staying centered and being able to be soft and strong and being comfortable in those spaces.<br />By putting ground under our feet and allowing the air to support us.<br />By being playful and sincere.<br />By relaxing and allowing yourself to float through life taking time to smell the flowers.<br />Let the light in when we feel dark. Complimenting small things with big things.<br />Feeling the ground beneath us in quiet moments. Recognizing that the balance already is.<br />By risking vulnerability.<br /><br /><br />For more information on <a href="http://www.soulcollage.com/home/index.php">Soul Collage</a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-67222228564635787582009-05-02T16:13:00.000-07:002009-05-02T17:01:34.926-07:00La LloronaI am La Llorona, the wailing woman who wanders along riverbanks calling for the children she drowned before killing herself. This Hispanic story has always haunted me, and while exploring some deep sadness inside me during a massage, the image of La Llorona came up in my mind (or in my heart?). The children I've lost are really parts of me that have disassociated for various reasons over my lifetime. This incredible sadness, which feels sloshy and wet, like I'm standing next to a cool ocean of sadness feels too deep to even begin to penetrate.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinL5RSmHEmxw7iRDYe-HD-tvpXxVzB30Tl1ACHQAgI6HNwDZZSdbT0mITE_8T_3XwCbvk_GkQmza-OBtcqKT2VJWfHOulAWoDRmOWBHoe4AGbni2TgmCeWjy5l6eyn9RLw2XBV-es8-Ag/s1600-h/lallorona.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331376374333119618" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinL5RSmHEmxw7iRDYe-HD-tvpXxVzB30Tl1ACHQAgI6HNwDZZSdbT0mITE_8T_3XwCbvk_GkQmza-OBtcqKT2VJWfHOulAWoDRmOWBHoe4AGbni2TgmCeWjy5l6eyn9RLw2XBV-es8-Ag/s320/lallorona.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />In the last few weeks I have been reading a book by <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.sandraingerman.com//URL">Sandra Ingerman</a>, a shaman who works with <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca">Soul Retrieval</a>. Soul retrieval is based on the belief that during trauma (even small traumas) often a part of our soul disassociates from our body. What struck me was how similar this is to working with trauma patients who often experience disassociation. And in the spirit of self-reflection, while meditating, and through my massage, I have been able to identify at least, a few parts of me that I have been missing.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLEURNKoDlJ3pjHRJcJ_GDV7fS1fK6k51_O74S94dx5P23aGECW28vsJEaz7_eiLWql7AVLhG13xtiGtGRiDSkO5cmXxQ9M26k0TebNHh2XLd0tueF1O6rMjG0rKx2li6i3XwaWxojNw/s1600-h/LaLlorona+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331376461758763074" style="WIDTH: 237px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLEURNKoDlJ3pjHRJcJ_GDV7fS1fK6k51_O74S94dx5P23aGECW28vsJEaz7_eiLWql7AVLhG13xtiGtGRiDSkO5cmXxQ9M26k0TebNHh2XLd0tueF1O6rMjG0rKx2li6i3XwaWxojNw/s320/LaLlorona+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There's my baby self, floating in a basket, screaming into the void, wondering where mama is. It left when I was relinquished. The part that stayed in place was the compliant one, the one that became adaptable and self reliant...never too trusting.<br /><br />I can see my third grade self, who calls herself Jennie after my great-grandma (my namesake) Jennie died. What sparked this fiesty eight year old to leave?<br /><br />My thirteen year old self at least came up to me during my visualization. She said "what took you so long?" She is my "Seattle Self," the one who stayed when I sacrificed and chose to vote for moving to Yakima rather than staying in Seattle.<br /><br />Before I was naive that they were gone, and then I realized that they were, and that was what prompted my deep grief and sadness. Because I miss them...all of them...even the ones I don't know are gone.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-75030032779133457152009-04-27T19:02:00.000-07:002009-04-27T19:06:00.322-07:00Springtime<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijBLoLP5ZRupdyFqD89YD2VITiJYQ2DMLbY257pIHbTUnDOOcVPeoqZ6kOuxIuJMhd5Brs2ZuBDrOdxbqMgv5_UK6sXulngO4A_Se2PZkxs2RFcyZoWh9nkuF9BwyUanWjiHaGxX_Pok/s1600-h/DSCN3411.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgijBLoLP5ZRupdyFqD89YD2VITiJYQ2DMLbY257pIHbTUnDOOcVPeoqZ6kOuxIuJMhd5Brs2ZuBDrOdxbqMgv5_UK6sXulngO4A_Se2PZkxs2RFcyZoWh9nkuF9BwyUanWjiHaGxX_Pok/s320/DSCN3411.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329557695615703746" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0uyVqMQPZlEPuw-hUXgouj-C_gg4Ym0zUGNhScatS2WiHJQFxGXNcQpwx48KhBoeZE-vjcz9CbSi4cOcbMGK-TTWeEJSC1PYHVvr2de_y1wQZrcVqWSXtc60sD7fHLaC3Shtf_wZEsA/s1600-h/DSCN3416.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329557102028869394" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0uyVqMQPZlEPuw-hUXgouj-C_gg4Ym0zUGNhScatS2WiHJQFxGXNcQpwx48KhBoeZE-vjcz9CbSi4cOcbMGK-TTWeEJSC1PYHVvr2de_y1wQZrcVqWSXtc60sD7fHLaC3Shtf_wZEsA/s320/DSCN3416.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLlVBvlFEMdgZBi60jNGclcsuN5AmPAAgQ06XEmJAE6rTMNkVGafCsP5GuvmbXN6GaGSbgg9H5Vin36VbtsXMeynhrKywcoUvezUVH9-JkzRm2f86QXBBQq9PR25RTrK0_X3ZQuRT0mw/s1600-h/DSCN3414.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329556993598990946" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLlVBvlFEMdgZBi60jNGclcsuN5AmPAAgQ06XEmJAE6rTMNkVGafCsP5GuvmbXN6GaGSbgg9H5Vin36VbtsXMeynhrKywcoUvezUVH9-JkzRm2f86QXBBQq9PR25RTrK0_X3ZQuRT0mw/s320/DSCN3414.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWumZs77w9cXOp8tW1JeepYdM31ZTdtL8ocWQNPFeG5m6ojf57cxKrekEmiiIDQnWLUQDjmjGjckpNUc6GcRF2Wgs4Oxsdpp194x1MkV9scWXYNIb0EErrR5JlQViMZqE6NzGnxT1VR0/s1600-h/DSCN3425.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329556906260928722" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWumZs77w9cXOp8tW1JeepYdM31ZTdtL8ocWQNPFeG5m6ojf57cxKrekEmiiIDQnWLUQDjmjGjckpNUc6GcRF2Wgs4Oxsdpp194x1MkV9scWXYNIb0EErrR5JlQViMZqE6NzGnxT1VR0/s320/DSCN3425.JPG" border="0" /></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-4161229539717276412009-04-21T20:34:00.000-07:002009-04-21T20:58:22.412-07:00Tuesdays with ArtyMy lovely friend Sarah is in from Cali and during our hang out time, she wanted to make art. Apparently she loves that I'm into art, so we listened to some soothing music and diddled in paint and wax and feathers to our hearts content! Our general focus was "Dreams" and boy did we interpret it uniquely!!!<br /><br />About halfway through our excursion my sister came in from Yakima (she's going on a date and also wanted to surprise Sarah), so she got in on the action as well! It was a blissfully wonderful afternoon!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-9DOy5kfwHBhZbD9YsXmOtAPgQQqmxApS3x_mVP3UECSB6kQwYExw9Iq-KCgw23S6-lqXkDDxUbaSZQD96cwqcvdCZcqyMGaeaAeg6OZMVwRN0uw4_Vsz8epF9UmWw_4SL2jFoRe9Kc/s1600-h/DSCN3373.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327355002328273090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-9DOy5kfwHBhZbD9YsXmOtAPgQQqmxApS3x_mVP3UECSB6kQwYExw9Iq-KCgw23S6-lqXkDDxUbaSZQD96cwqcvdCZcqyMGaeaAeg6OZMVwRN0uw4_Vsz8epF9UmWw_4SL2jFoRe9Kc/s320/DSCN3373.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80nyywjuOfQw6ymNzjW3Q5vKbHm6Kfj136bIAN1FmSCDz0JEQLtBAE0KfnCY3Ja8ws5qk26JncZrE7ltNjYLuWKbR_vzlF-RQvZO-fwl8rkXPlt_oRxdRDMkWznn7D-vlOUYRO4yg_pM/s1600-h/DSCN3370.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327355827582370690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80nyywjuOfQw6ymNzjW3Q5vKbHm6Kfj136bIAN1FmSCDz0JEQLtBAE0KfnCY3Ja8ws5qk26JncZrE7ltNjYLuWKbR_vzlF-RQvZO-fwl8rkXPlt_oRxdRDMkWznn7D-vlOUYRO4yg_pM/s320/DSCN3370.JPG" border="0" /></a> There we are...and there are some paintbrushes...good times!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqSngPRSWB5FRQtMEL3IfHyhgiBtXNndKZg9YB-bz0bFqmEc4M_XUTIydoaU5T6IhRjeY9jqnnW5IXQ_orsuzwIgQc1ovHhov6wcz2YCblm_Sip8_ptI-bBUjKrNY0RJPhiB8xsNglIdI/s1600-h/DSCN3375.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327355725080205746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqSngPRSWB5FRQtMEL3IfHyhgiBtXNndKZg9YB-bz0bFqmEc4M_XUTIydoaU5T6IhRjeY9jqnnW5IXQ_orsuzwIgQc1ovHhov6wcz2YCblm_Sip8_ptI-bBUjKrNY0RJPhiB8xsNglIdI/s320/DSCN3375.JPG" border="0" /></a> Sarah and her lovely piece...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4yBILg-Bbh35DDzz0HfhhmAQtNpDCo2AAMMrWplOQqK9B0yjaWY5g2UTD_NXUT95BhtgD6zugw_FVwAcUJVojc6IBvgqsw0zb4Ipc0yFFXJ-pZoYjryaYdVV6sKFIVxt4if2mDuHJEA/s1600-h/DSCN3376.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327356012263285922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4yBILg-Bbh35DDzz0HfhhmAQtNpDCo2AAMMrWplOQqK9B0yjaWY5g2UTD_NXUT95BhtgD6zugw_FVwAcUJVojc6IBvgqsw0zb4Ipc0yFFXJ-pZoYjryaYdVV6sKFIVxt4if2mDuHJEA/s320/DSCN3376.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />her piece close up!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnozjuEFTsHX4im4Iumx78yHHtYF0_XNlouKQ6lHTq3Pposcu8_CTtwX7KOeWU1Rr5R4gXhqUfzVA5p564_vKWoryvcyXNwvfOMvRV-PDOI0qvpwdNuvwW5pnbzQKnGcdnenv3GnBRH3E/s1600-h/DSCN3380.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327355607013307714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnozjuEFTsHX4im4Iumx78yHHtYF0_XNlouKQ6lHTq3Pposcu8_CTtwX7KOeWU1Rr5R4gXhqUfzVA5p564_vKWoryvcyXNwvfOMvRV-PDOI0qvpwdNuvwW5pnbzQKnGcdnenv3GnBRH3E/s320/DSCN3380.JPG" border="0" /></a> all of our work on the table :)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHSE7JEYVHrU0SAKeEJmhXO6B0OYx8mLFLgfRcKDYsNZr7ThmwvPtzx3F5-_GnMTEhXjpYN5oKtqpCInnFsEWbQd025wC_LxJikpF9QKVCtHYRIh3OnW1u5SZnLb5SLgz7f2a_KuO4eY/s1600-h/DSCN3385.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327358395496230258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHSE7JEYVHrU0SAKeEJmhXO6B0OYx8mLFLgfRcKDYsNZr7ThmwvPtzx3F5-_GnMTEhXjpYN5oKtqpCInnFsEWbQd025wC_LxJikpF9QKVCtHYRIh3OnW1u5SZnLb5SLgz7f2a_KuO4eY/s320/DSCN3385.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When thinking about dreams, I was drawn simultaneously to the image of the camel pose (a very heart opening yoga pose) and the hawk...paired together the hawk just seems to be bursting from my heart, and truly this is my dream. The hawk is so fierce, independant and strong in what it wants. And yet the camel pose is a vulnerable position to be in. Being vulnerable helps me be strong!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_RWGXG0Q9zuolUHkxUvdbRHDmqhMJ3kJ87IEo1uBQkNrwFnXHX5VXvN6W9YCK1CltPtYpjVMpJ-wp_h6sAMgpQtAug6nz6SHMpV9yl8zEt2kDh7TX_1nHhrzByC9e3TlbsOrc94qFDY/s1600-h/DSCN3384.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_RWGXG0Q9zuolUHkxUvdbRHDmqhMJ3kJ87IEo1uBQkNrwFnXHX5VXvN6W9YCK1CltPtYpjVMpJ-wp_h6sAMgpQtAug6nz6SHMpV9yl8zEt2kDh7TX_1nHhrzByC9e3TlbsOrc94qFDY/s320/DSCN3384.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327359951361367650" /></a><br /><br />A dream of mine is to honor the power inside of me.Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-47171122862337505732009-04-15T20:04:00.000-07:002009-04-15T20:44:05.600-07:00Goddess ArchetypeI joined a women's spirituality group the other day, and while I haven't attended a meetup yet, I am really looking forward to getting together with a diverse community of women! One of the online activities was to find my Goddess Archetypes, and while I had some time I decided to give it a try. Now I love personality tests, but this one was totally spot on! <a href="http://goddess-power.com/index.htm"></a><br /><br />Artemis/Persephone with a twist of Hestia.<br /><br />Artemis: <br />-Androgynous nature--containing both feminine and masculine energies--complete, whole in and of herself - her true relationship is with herself.<br />-Androgynous energy contained within converts to visions, mystical experiences, and a deep, enduring compassion for all of Nature.<br />-Lover of animals and the serenity found in Nature, on the one hand<br />-And, destroyer, Artemis-goddess leads the nocturnal hunt deep in the forest.<br />-independent, strong, autonomous, energetic, born with strong masculine qualities in her nature and, particularly for Artemis, an intense love of freedom.<br />-Solitary nature teaching her self-sufficiency & independence--prophesy, poetry, music, magic and healing<br />-Artemis women find that the non-stop presence of others hinders her presence to herself, therefore, requiring retreat into the solitude of natural world and offering reconnection to her inner self.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-dcKy3q3wbxHLwOJhSA7W83eWqdjsDc0uvmneJ-xerUZIPB1fSqNmYz6JNedRBxeiQ7J2zycsFAw3-oll35O-rlCxcbHZiVZS_ZRuoK_YdYRpLEGjJeDO12CO-6j0RxRRJh5XB_Qu0g/s1600-h/Artemis.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-dcKy3q3wbxHLwOJhSA7W83eWqdjsDc0uvmneJ-xerUZIPB1fSqNmYz6JNedRBxeiQ7J2zycsFAw3-oll35O-rlCxcbHZiVZS_ZRuoK_YdYRpLEGjJeDO12CO-6j0RxRRJh5XB_Qu0g/s320/Artemis.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Some challenges she faces: <br /><br />-She tends to avoid her vulnerability in relation to others--hiding her emotional needs, even to herself.<br />-Artemis tends toward emotional distancing--difficulty trusting relationship.<br />-Growth for Artemis type woman is in developing her less conscious, human relationship side of herself.<br />-if Artemis is unable to find fulfilling self-expression in her life she will feel increasingly frustrated and depressed.<br /><br />What was so beautiful in reading this is that even the 'negatives' are worded simply as truths, rather than as personality flaws. For so long I have felt that there is this 'masculine' energy inside me that is combined with my feminine energy, and while I appear outwardly womanly I would say that inside I am more androgynous, at least in how my energies play out. I love animals and nature and freedom! And I that's okay, because it's part of who I am. <br /><br />But wait...there's more!<br /><br />Persephone: <br />-Her nature--sympathetic, highly tuned into people’s feelings and needs <br />-She is responsiveness to the needs of others - has difficulty saying ‘no’ --difficulty recognizing and asserting her own boundaries. <br />-Musing and intuitive nature rather than intellectual mind - difficulty ‘explaining’ her reasoning as it is an intuitive perception. <br />-Strong connection to spirit - deep ambivalence toward outer world & her sense of being misunderstood & alienated from conventional society <br />-A primarily Persephone type, keenly sensitive, typically possesses a fragile ego structure, therefore, easily overwhelmed by feelings and impressions from her unconscious <br />-Keen ability to cross over into other realms of psychic consciousness - very at home in the world beyond the physical senses <br />-Attracted to metaphysics, healing, intuitive, service-oriented work <br />-By nature she is reclusive/retreating, secretive, possessing a sensitive system requiring time away from external stimulation. <br />-She experiences episodes of depression, and/or bouts of mysterious, difficult to diagnose illnesses. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTgV3HarSgPMsfKINbwDoLrvMbvEipSVd8EWtb8uC-ua24YtLnifkMB-PGHXRk3fxGzoscWr1tUho8pcUmYml36tKRehxoA4ADSCn0Aby1trC55LdBD6XubHBRBh5l74XuWnye1AgWAM/s1600-h/Persephone.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325124329811975074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTgV3HarSgPMsfKINbwDoLrvMbvEipSVd8EWtb8uC-ua24YtLnifkMB-PGHXRk3fxGzoscWr1tUho8pcUmYml36tKRehxoA4ADSCn0Aby1trC55LdBD6XubHBRBh5l74XuWnye1AgWAM/s320/Persephone.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Challenges: <br />-prone to attracting people with severe problems or possibly abusive behaviors <br />-prone to mysterious illnesses difficult to diagnose or treat <br />-sense of deep alienation, isolation, depression <br /><br />People pleaser, depression, strong intuition, musing nature, and highly tuned into other's needs...check, check and check! Wowee, just when I thought my personality had been summed up, it gets even better!I'm noticing a trend, though, of leaning toward the introverted nature-loving intuitive, but wait, there's more!<br /><br />Hestia:<br />-Hestia is visualized as a stately yet not intimidating figure; she is pretty yet not beautiful. <br />-She is kindly yet distant - she possesses the ability to love impartially <br />-Her demeanor is modest and gentle <br />-She is self-sufficient and self-directed - inner focused <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjss8fan3B9zhPhyFL6jBHDVzJ8-Pso70fqudBpqLg82xSmHKF7MeoMHkD98TR5Ke0A0ZjQJqwBo6MiMrsyvBECwFxxGldopP5PDDSRKXAgKVE_nTsChoRA-h7b7Bpfd_d5OdDywJtlZ6w/s1600-h/9862hestia.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325124196725373922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjss8fan3B9zhPhyFL6jBHDVzJ8-Pso70fqudBpqLg82xSmHKF7MeoMHkD98TR5Ke0A0ZjQJqwBo6MiMrsyvBECwFxxGldopP5PDDSRKXAgKVE_nTsChoRA-h7b7Bpfd_d5OdDywJtlZ6w/s320/9862hestia.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Challenges:<br />-Possible difficulties for a Hestia-type woman in today’s world - presenting herself as a ‘non-entity’, in other words--she has no desire to stand out, and not as a result of her own family or cultural conditioning, rather, by her own conscious choice. <br />-Hestia type lacks assertiveness - she will not speak up - she is out of place in this modern, fast-paced, competitive world <br />-Hestia type needs to develop an effective ‘persona’ - a social adaptation aiding her in interacting and in getting along in the world when circumstances require <br />-Hestia type, due to her introverted nature, tends to be undemonstrative with her feelings toward others even though she may care for them <br />-Hestia’s caring is impersonal, detached - her challenge may be to let those close to her know that she cares <br /><br />Ah yes, a little twist of Hestia. <br /><br />To check it out for yourself: http://goddess-power.com/index.htmJennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-18096436905963324352009-04-13T20:20:00.000-07:002009-04-13T20:28:34.030-07:00WhimsyAllow me to introduce you to Whimsy...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkcriXug17kovb46OFnAcdrcVIxwuadK7bM5QT31_Ccw3o9DkTIIGgVv3uLL1iDPQ5MXd7DCdXIA_mmRlGwRkIM-WNlLAzRyXqmv2olOwHStrUO8T34TC1yldmU-TF1BNEEkH_NXVPRk/s1600-h/whimsy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324382082911143234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkcriXug17kovb46OFnAcdrcVIxwuadK7bM5QT31_Ccw3o9DkTIIGgVv3uLL1iDPQ5MXd7DCdXIA_mmRlGwRkIM-WNlLAzRyXqmv2olOwHStrUO8T34TC1yldmU-TF1BNEEkH_NXVPRk/s320/whimsy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><br />I first met her somewhere around the end of sixth grade, on a Girl Scout camping trip. She was "my elf," and I used to draw pictures of her and let her ride around on my shoulder at school. Whimsy was my 2nd elf friend, after Leila (who I released back into the nature-land because her family needed her)and I spent most of 7th grade with Whimsy as my companion. <br /><br />She stayed when I left for Yakima. Not knowing what the climate might hold I piled some leaves and pinecones underneath the bush on the side of our house and told her I'd come back someday to see how she was, but I couldn't bring her with me. <br /><br />I moved to Yakima. <br />I bought my first razor. <br />I bought Doc Martens to try to fit in...though I ended up with black ones which were so not the in thing. <br />I grew up. <br /><br />But today, as I was eagerly prepared to start on my art series for church, I came across this image and it took my breath away. I started diddling with tissue paper and wax and when it all came together I sat back in astonishment and said, "Hi Whimsy, I've missed you."Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8951755944237042897.post-87120324691342918172009-04-12T21:31:00.000-07:002009-04-12T22:02:06.831-07:00Past, Present, Future"Wouldn't it be fun Diana, if now, as we went home, we were to meet our old selves running along Lover's Lane?" Anne of Ingleside<br /><br />Today I spent the afternoon in the company of two beautiful women creating art pieces that represent an aspect of our past, present and future, hosted by Courtney (check out her website at: <a href="http://thehealingnest.blogspot.com/">http://thehealingnest.blogspot.com/</a> )I'm not sure I could think of a more delightful way to spend Easter Sunday!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zoYud8EnO6Ef2XteEbqYmQ7X2rG0xWHy0GAnx4MitejaC03pxm6D8rSgpkdGFDaJiB0PDCOiCTGHeIrRaHtDRN3h-Tt0KFUhCA1-YFA6iydehsN-NayvWwsU-mNvWNHI5NmKqWCNZ5w/s1600-h/past.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324029359791627682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zoYud8EnO6Ef2XteEbqYmQ7X2rG0xWHy0GAnx4MitejaC03pxm6D8rSgpkdGFDaJiB0PDCOiCTGHeIrRaHtDRN3h-Tt0KFUhCA1-YFA6iydehsN-NayvWwsU-mNvWNHI5NmKqWCNZ5w/s320/past.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When I was thinking about my past I kept thinking about the contrast of how secure/confident/beautiful/magical I felt as a child inside of myself and how awkward/lonely/disconnected/unsure I felt in relation to the world. I felt like I belonged somewhere else...a place where fairies and mermaids lived, where I could fly and animals were able to talk to me. So this piece shows who I was, in my mind, and how I saw myself in relation to the rest of the world (the lonely little girl clutching a teddy bear). The star, which carries through all of the pieces, and represents some aspect of me, though I'm not sure what exactly :)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH88cGZYEq9XaDQuDUFTTuCSUyxTv6HeuDpdxmssjBFBY4w7nH8UIhpbITJquu2WBy9Ri4Kklx16ir36sYKXwqnjXIudG4qy2yYpio3QDBOtTatlzMpyloh4EuGbcDH-T0ratoa81ijOE/s1600-h/present.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324029230456181970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH88cGZYEq9XaDQuDUFTTuCSUyxTv6HeuDpdxmssjBFBY4w7nH8UIhpbITJquu2WBy9Ri4Kklx16ir36sYKXwqnjXIudG4qy2yYpio3QDBOtTatlzMpyloh4EuGbcDH-T0ratoa81ijOE/s320/present.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I have been obsessed with the image of the parrot and the hawk as I saw them sitting side by side in this month's NAtional Geographic magazine. As this piece represents my present I was instantly drawn toward the image of the back, since I have been struggling lately with excrutiating back pain from the accident. The birds are placed on the shoulders like the typical 'devil' and 'angel,' but rather than such black/white imagery, these birds both possess qualities I admire and want to embody: sociable, vulnerability, happiness, vitality and adventurous, independent, strong, solitary and driven.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibIIZ0Ga0xOWUgUd0773UT7inVdbUtoq55xJLWV9gOJ-t7ZH-AC2qLNFMxG5jysnEosTPhj_IjqGay6Y2tmofDedGcJJ9gqqvko8A2TuuFoYWdR6zkhHwu2Zz_Slhd496gV9Avrm9OGf4/s1600-h/future.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324029097972950386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibIIZ0Ga0xOWUgUd0773UT7inVdbUtoq55xJLWV9gOJ-t7ZH-AC2qLNFMxG5jysnEosTPhj_IjqGay6Y2tmofDedGcJJ9gqqvko8A2TuuFoYWdR6zkhHwu2Zz_Slhd496gV9Avrm9OGf4/s320/future.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The future is a time when all the puzzle 'pieces fall into place,' and I learn how to "just be." I love the serenity I see on the faces of the girls...they are able to simply be themselves. The purple reminds me of today's sermon about resurrection and living life without fear.<br /><br />All in all it was a very wonderful day.<br /><a href="http://thehealingnest.blogspot.com/"></a>Jennahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548140576365758466noreply@blogger.com0