I wouldn’t consider The Hunger Games movies to be particularly calming, but as we explored the area where the movies were filmed, I felt very relaxed. A week before we drove up there, I wouldn’t have guessed that we would be spending Memorial Day weekend in the mountains of North Carolina. While I find mountains
As spring approaches, I want to take a few moments to appreciate winter. Winter is my least favorite season, and this year, I felt like it was in no hurry to leave. I don’t like complaining about our days of thirty-degree weather. After all, I know that people who live up north have had to
I’m really happy that autumn is here. Each season brings a gift, a new reason to celebrate life. Summer used to be my favorite season, but now autumn has taken its place. Since I started college in 2000, the beginning of autumn has felt like the beginning of a new year. Not only do most
I rarely commit to new projects, because my free time is limited, but last week I was inspired to start an art journal. I work at a treatment center (as a mental health counselor and an art therapist), and one of the activities that I’ve encouraged my clients to do is to keep an art
I wanted to share these lines from “Song of the Open Road” by Walt Whitman. They remind me of the joys of traveling: the breathtaking sights, exhilarating pace, interesting people, and personal reflections that one encounters on the road. These lines also inspire me to reflect upon the overall meaning of life’s journey:
Sometimes, I find beauty in unexpected places. I discover sunlight on the other side of the clouds, a panorama after the climb, colors dancing through the gray, hope after months of despair. This spring, I needed a reminder of that beauty. As I walked through personal struggles, I wondered if I would find any beauty
Tomorrow, I turn thirty-two. I just realized that, not only is my birthday on the sixteenth of September, but this is my sixteenth blog post. And if I were to divide the years of my life in half, I would also get the number sixteen. (Finding patterns in numbers reassures me that life makes sense.)
It takes effort to be compassionate. I would label myself as someone who cares deeply about others, but I struggle to be compassionate almost every day. It’s easy to go through the motions of kindness: to show some concern, respond with a caring phrase, do someone a quick favor. I’ve learned how to do that
I love to commemorate the passage of time, to celebrate each new chapter of life. I try to reflect on the positive things that have happened, and I enjoy daydreaming about the excursions and special events that are coming up. Over the years, I’ve experimented with a variety of record-keeping techniques in order remember the
