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The Love of Daisies

Just popping in before the 3 day holiday weekend begins for everyone. 😉

I am slowly adjusting to the keyboard for my tablet but it is not an easy one. I am persevering with it anyway.

Monday, hopefully, I will be back to the blog at least a few times a week for now. Still working on internet in my home but I have figured out a way to write my posts, save them and set up publishing dates for each entry. My biggest concern is comments. I won’t be able to respond as often and I worry about leaving people waiting for a reply, so, for now, I am going to aim for just a couple post per week till I get internet and can monitor comments more closely.

Today I am sharing this lovely photo of a daisy that It took at Old City Cemetary in Lynchburg, VA. Daisies have been a favorite flower of mine since I was a young girl. They remind me of only good things in this world. As we head into the 3 day weekend, I hope you find plenty of time for the good things in life.

Just a friendly reminder that while everyone is out there enjoying the long weekend please, remember a designated driver is the safest way to go! Stay home, walk, call a taxi, Uber, Lift or even your Mom but please do not drink and drive. Make choices before you drink to keep yourself and others safe while celebrating this weekend! Sober driving is the only safe driving!!

Be safe out there. We want everyone to be here on Tuesday morning!

Be Brave.

Jamie Christine

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Oh! The Resolutions…

I confess. I don’t have resolutions.

I never do. Many years ago, I made the New Year’s Resolution to never make another one. It is the only resolution that I have ever kept. Now, before anyone flips out and lectures me about the importance of making goals, please give me at least a blog post to explain why I do not make resolutions.

I was in my early twenties when I bid a final farewell to many of the New Year Eve’s traditions. I do not rub my hands in bowl full of coins for more money. I do not eat black-eyed peas or herring on a cracker for good luck in the coming year. I do not frantically change my calendar to welcome in the new year. I do not do any of that stuff and I do not make resolutions to fix my weight, my job or my soul.

I do acknowledge that these traditions are social activities that bind us together and therefore they hold importance in society and communities. Eating black-eyed peas or making wishes together are common activities that we can focus on instead of our differences. In short, they bind us together in a common act or desire. We all want to hope that our lives will be better in the new year. In reality, they are superstitions that do not actually have any credible influence on how much luck manifests in the next year of our life.

Why did I quit good luck superstitions or new year resolutions?
There were two reasons.

Reason number one. I never managed to keep or fulfill any of my resolutions. In truth, by mid February I had all but forgotten my carefree resolutions. I came to understand, that my resolutions were no different than any of the other good luck activities. I did not really give any serious thought to what I set out to change. I hastily, and in my early years, drunkenly, prattled off a list of my faults that the New Year was going “correct” for me.

Reason number two. When good luck or the magical “new” year did not produce a whole new me, I became discouraged. I concluded that I was a bad person responsible for the entire universe gone awry. I was the ultimate failure because even good luck could not come my way. This was a dangerous internal dialogue that no amount of black-eyed peas was going to fix. Wishing wasn’t going to make see myself in a more positive light.

Good luck was not the answer. It never worked. On a hap-hazard, laughter filled, wine induced New Year’s Eve, I announced that I was never going to make another resolution and trust luck to fix all my problems. Instead, I started making goals. I focused on three goals a year that I was responsible for manifesting in my life. That’s is when things began to change. I no longer sat back and relied on fate to solve my problems. I took time to consider the direction that I wanted my life to go, made goals according to my plans and then worked on meeting those goals. Sometimes I do not actually make my goals.That is okay. I work toward them. I have discovered that working toward my goals shows me what I need to do make to them a reality. I practice reality every year not good luck.

Hard work will be the primary tool in shaping the life you desire. 2017 did not hate you. 2018 is not going to magically make your life better. The New Year is not a fix all moment. It is a day on the calendar. Nothing more, nothing less. It is a good time to reflect on your life and your goals. It is a good season to come up with a plan. It is a great idea to celebrate with family and friends. These things are absolutely true. Superstitions and good luck are not the Universes handymen to problem solve your life.

I don’t intend to sound harsh but that was the difference for me. Resolutions, black-eyed peas and bowls full of pennies relied on some good luck fairy to swoop down, waiving a magic wand that was going to make all my problems disappear. When that didn’t happen, I could easily blame luck because I did not have the life I wanted or wasn’t the person that I wanted to be. I held no responsibility in the outcome of a year, an entire year of my life. Making goals meant that I was responsible and accountable for my how my life turned out. I made the choice to do away with superstitions and empty wishes. I embraced the reality that I was in charge of my goals coming true.

Maybe, reality is cold and harsh. At the end of today, the New Year is not going to bring you a better life or make you a better person. January 1 is just a day on a calendar. Sure, it is the beginning of a new calendar year and that is good for marking time but not so good for life changes and life plans. The next 364 days are in your hands.

My goals for this year are really a continuation of the direction I was headed in when 2017 ended.

Goal 1- Establish an online blog and business. This has been developing for many years. I am getting close. Closer than I have ever been.
Goal 2- Move out of the Valley of the Sun. I need to get out of this valley for a variety of reasons. Health and happiness being the top two.
Goal 3- See my mom, Jeri. I’ve seen her once since April 1993. It sucks.

These next three goals are kind of a given in my life. They apply no matter what year.
Goal 1-Be kind. Learn to practice kindness every day.
Goal 2. Be thankful. Learn to spend more time expressing gratitude and less time complaining.
Goal 3. Photography. Learn more. Do more. Grow more.

Make goals in reality not resolutions hoping for good luck to fix your world. You’ll get a whole lot more accomplished and next New Year’s Eve, you can be proud of what you have done and not spend the evening blaming the calendar for not making all your dreams come true.

Be brave.
Jamie Christine

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Anxiety Rising

Wow…missed yesterday’s blog post. Anxiety is stirring in the pit of my stomach. Just to be clear, anxiety is not nerves or worry. It is an entirely different beast all together. When I am nervous about something, I can push through the nerves and do what I need or want to do. When I am experiencing anxiety or having panic attacks about something, the more I push, the worse it fights back. Currently, there are so many changes occurring right now in my life, that my anxiety is already starting to rumble, deep and low in my stomach. I am doing everything I can to ward off an anxiety filled explosion the size of a super volcano.

I am already crying off and on about leaving Arizona. There is so much that I am going to miss. There are so many things that I didn’t get the time or money to go do and see. There are people who I never got to meet in person. I am trying not to panic over all that I will miss and all that I never got to do while living here. I am making my best effort to keep my focus on all the new adventures that are waiting ahead for me. Besides, I can always come back. I know the way.

Yesterday, I was thinking about moving and leaving my home. It occurred to me, all change is hard, isn’t it? Even if we are happy about the changes or excited for new frontiers, change is difficult, challenging and often times, overwhelming. Just ask any mother.

Many women have decide to have a baby. You work at it until finally you get pregnant. Everything changes. Your body, your emotions, your thoughts, your plans for your future, it all changes and you are thrilled! At the first twang of birth pains, there is a moment and I think for most it is only a moment, but in one painful, reality filled moment, you say…O.M.G.! The weight of it all hits you and somewhere in between breathing exercises and pain, your mind fully grasps the imminent arrival of a tiny, helpless human being that you created and are now fully responsible for. O.M.G…change.

Change that you desired. Change that you purposely decided upon. Change that you know is the right step for you in your life. Change that brings more change.

Anyone who tells you that change, good or bad is easy-peasy, is faking it or lying to you. Period. Be real. Be honest. Change is hard.

Be brave.
Jamie Christine

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Tired Tuesday

It is 2:58 a.m.
I have been up since 6:30 a.m. Monday morning.
I am still awake. I am tired but can not seem to climb into bed and go to sleep. I wonder why?

I have always had strange sleeping habits. My parents would often tell stories about me, at 2 years old, waking up in the middle of the night and going outside to play. I had the terrible habit of getting sleepy then falling asleep under the cars in our neighborhood. My mother told me that she had locks on the top of the door. I would stack chairs and such to climb up to the top of the door and unlock it. Fleeing to the great outdoors in the middle of the night.

My parents warned all the neighbors about me because one crisp morning, a neighbor almost ran me over if it was not for a tiny piece of my Dad’s stark white t-shirt that caught his eye. I wore my Dad’s t-shirts to bed. He brought me home and woke my parents with his knocking. The neighbor found me, sound asleep, near the front tire, oblivious to the danger around me.

After my parents managed to fasten a lock that I could not open, my mother told me that I would wander the house at night. She told me that because I was in my Dad’s white t-shirts that she would often see me flutter through the house. More than once she thought I was a ghost. Ghost girl in the white Fruit of the Looms. She said I was one of those creepy kids who stared at you till you woke up. I was always scaring the crap out of her.

My father worked over nights. He once told me that my mother would spend all day cleaning the house and I would terrorize it in the middle of the night. He would come home at 6 or 7 a.m. to find the house turned upside down by the little ghost girl. His favorite recollection was the morning he came home to find that I had discovered the 8 mm home movies and strung them around the living room like party streamers. He often cleaned up the house before my mother ever woke up so she would not be upset.

They bravely fought the midnight battle with me until the morning they woke up and I was not home. They searched all the normal places I would be sleeping. I was no where insight. A neighborhood search ensued till someone found me and another little boy. I have no idea where I found him. We were walking in our diapers and me in my white t-shirt along the side of major road. My mother asked me where I was going. I replied, “Dairy Queen.” It was at this point they started locking me in my bedroom at night.

It is safe to say that I have always loved the night. I work best in the early morning. When I was working the newspaper route, I loved being outside during the night. I was thrilled to see the nocturnal animals roaming about town. I always gazed at the stars. I soak in the coolness of the morning. The silence of the city has always been music to my ears. I always hear the moon call my name. Being awake while everyone else is sleeping is the best time to be playing in the night.

I am a long way from 2 years old but I still find the best time to go to bed is just after sunrise and a delicious breakfast. The moon and stars still catch my dreams. The magic night still calls to me.

I often feel like I am locked in a room. I despise the feeling of being forced to do something I don’t want to do or being confined. I will rail against being “trapped”. I have never reacted positively to locked doors. To people who tell me I can’t. To places I can’t go. Makes me wonder, how much do we really change as we age?

Be brave.
Jamie Christine