On...

Do you ever feel as though you have lived three days in one? I had a day like that recently. I wouldn't categorize it as a bad day or a good day really; it was just a long day. A lot of things shifted and changed throughout the day. Those shifts left me feeling as if the minutes, hours, and days were going, all-at-once, triple time and slow motion. Time is a tricky thing.  As I reflect on time and the fact that it’s been   four years since my accident, I realize that I have lived a lot of life in these four short years, often seeming more than what the average person lives in the same amount of time. Let's just put it this way, I haven't been bored.  We cannot always choose what happens to us in life, but we can always choose how we react to it. I feel fairly confident that I have reacted to both the challenges and the greatness in my life, not perfectly, but equally, with grace. I am grateful for my blessings, and I am grateful for my hardships.   I

I am privileged in a way that only white, middle-class Americans can be. I grew up in a nice house, went to great schools (elementary through grad), and was always secure in the knowledge that I would have enough... Even in my most challenging moments, I have always had enough: money, freedom, medical assistance, education, safety. Always enough. Let's take this a step further because I am also privileged in a way that only white, middle-class American women can be. You see, I have been afforded the luxury of being able to play dumb  or to at least turn a blind eye  to what is going on in the world. I can proclaim it too much to deal with,  turn off my tv, and go about my business - I can do this because the things that are going on in our country right now are not directly impacting me. I am privileged. I cannot change the circumstance of my birth. Quite frankly, I don't really want to. I both acknowledge and am grateful for my privilege. I think, though, that this quote

These last four years, I've had a series of... let's call them "grand-scale challenges," with which I have been tested. I do not think, however, that the test of these challenges has been one to determine strength. I may have been dangerously close to the edge of the cliff at times (maybe now), but I know that I am strong enough to hang on - I am sure of this. Instead, perhaps the message for me is that it is okay to accept help, and even possibly okay, to ask for it. You see, I am not the kind of girl who subscribes to the fairytale - you know, the one where I am a damsel in distress who needs the knight in shining armor to come swooping in to save the day? I'm more of the "I'll do it myself" variety. And for this reason, I have a lot of trouble not answering the "what can I do to help you?" question with "I'm doing just fine, you don't need to do anything at all." I stumble on the "yes, I need help... her

"I used to think time was a thief. But you give before you take. Time is a gift. Every minute. Every second." - Alice Kingsleigh, Through the Looking Glass I think love is a lot like time.   Love is joy. It is happiness and light. It is gratitude and wonder. It is warmth and hope. It is living. And, love is pain. It is sorrow and darkness. It is fear and anger. It is cold and sad. It is death. Love is such that you cannot have one without the other - two sides of the same coin.  Although I know my NanNan, is finally at peace and I am grateful that she is no longer suffering, there is still a hole in my heart. The hole is there because of the love. It is there because of the forty years of memories I made with her presence. It is there because I loved her and because she loved me. Love is joy and love is pain.  Despite the sorrow I now feel, I will not give back the happy memories: of standing by her sink in a Bugs Bunny costume, stealing the carr

2016 brought with it great happiness and great sorrow; it brought excitement and fear; it brought change and sameness. And now, 2016 is behind us. We can close the chapter. With the dawning of 2017, what lies ahead? We don't know. The first day of 2017 is a blank page in a chapter of 365 blank pages waiting for us to fill. For some, those blank pages bring an overwhelming sense of fear. The unknown can be very frightening - not being certain of the outcome, of the risks involved, of all of the players in the game. When we look at it like this, we can feel powerless; defeated long before we get started. Perhaps though, we can shift our perspective: What if, instead, we look at these blank pages, this new chapter, as an opportunity? What if we see the power in the ability to author our own futures? What if, with each page, we seek to understand the world around us? What if, with each page, we actively work to make the world better, to make one person's life easier, and to u