Each month, I take part in a 10 on 10 blog roll. Photographers tell a story with ten photos taken all on one day posted on the tenth of the month. This month, I documented a lazy Saturday.
Rest and Be Thankful. ~William Wadsworth
If you’d like to see some amazing photos, click on through each photographer. In fact, my friend Maite’s day is right here.
Thank you!
Each month, I take part in a 10 on 10 blog roll. Photographers tell a story with ten photos all on one day on the tenth of the month. This month, I shot with my Rolleicord at the Golden Gate Bridge and Sutro Baths using Kodak Ektar 100 film.
Check out Alison’s 10 on 10: http://alisonbents.com/brand-new-tricycle-rosemount-family-photographer/
Thank you!
This year, I had a dream to run 1,000 miles. Yup, 1,000 miles in 2016 because this hashtag is my motto: #headingto50feelingnifty. Somewhere along mile ninety-seven, I injured my left hip. I don’t even know what the heck I did to it. The injury sidelined me, ended my dream, and put me in a perpetual bad mood.
Thus began the long, difficult road to recovery. I’ve been on this journey for nearly seven months now; numerous doctors’ visits, an X-ray, an MRI, and finally, physical therapy.
When I ran, I felt God’s pleasure. When I ran, I felt strong, free, and fantastic. Running brought me life. Running gave me a new appreciation for my body; appreciation for what my body can do, instead of what it looks like. You can imagine how I felt when I had to stop running. I felt as if I had lost an old friend.
What do you do when a dream doesn’t come true? I’m asking a real question because I usually throw tantrums, beat myself up and wallow in self-pity. Oh, and eat my feelings. All productive activities, right?
In most blogs, this is where the author Suzy-Sunshine’s the situation and tells how they’ve overcome. Hate to break it to ya, I’m not that author. Physically, this year kicked my butt (literally and figuratively.) I don’t know if I will be able to run again or ever accomplish 1,000 miles in a year. I certainly don’t feel I’m #headingto50feelingnifty. More like #headingto50feelingshiftyminustheF.
I have to accept the fact that I may not be able to run again. I’m not there by any means. That’s okay. It’s a long, emotional process when there is the death of a dream and I’m right in the middle of it.
Every month, I blog with a group of women all writing about the same topic, dream. Click here to read my dear friend Susan’s post on persistent dreaming. Thank you.
Each month, I take part in a 10 on 10 blog roll. Photographers tell a story with ten photos all on one day on the tenth of the month. Here’s my offering in black and white from the wonderful city of Manchester, England:
I’m blogging with incredibly talented photographers. Click here to see my wonderful friend Maite’s fantastic film images.
Thank you.
One of the bravest women I know is my mother-in-love, Joyce. When I think of the obstacles she has faced, I am in awe. Evacuated as a child during WWII to the countryside, Joyce struggled with a medical condition which no one understood at the time. It caused much pain and rejection in her young life. In her teens, she came to know the love of Jesus in a powerful way. The experience brought healing to her wounded heart.
Nurse Hollins
Joyce wanted to be a nurse from early on because she desired to help sick people as she struggled with a difficult condition herself. No hospital would take her due to the medical condition but determined as she was, she kept searching. Joyce found a hospital to work in through a friend’s help. She worked steadily in a TB ward for twelve years until she met her husband, a doctor.
My in-laws were married for forty-seven years and truly loved each other. Their marriage produced two wonderful sons, one of which is my sweet husband. My mother-in-love endured losing her beloved husband a few years ago. Yet, she continues to be brave despite being on her own. Joyce continues to struggle with medical problems but never gives up. She clings to her faith tenaciously. In fact, one of her favorite hymns is Rock of Ages.
Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee. –Rev. A.M. Toplady
Brave, beautiful soul
I admire her, plain and simple; Joyce is beloved by many who know her. When I think of the word brave, she immediately comes to mind. Her resiliency, courage, and faith speak to me deeply about being brave despite hardship and pain.
I’m writing with my friend Staci on the same topic. Click here for her post . Thank you.
As I head into my last year homeschooling, I realize that I will be letting go of an identity I have had for the last thirteen years. “Homeschool Mom” is a title I’ve grown accustomed to having (and loved, by the way!) It will always be a part of me. Yet, homeschooling will no longer be something I do. Who am I apart from homeschooling my man-cubs?
Hummingbird nest with one tiny egg
This would be an easy question if I didn’t attach significance and value to what I do. My thought often is: I’m doing something significant, therefore, I am significant. I’m doing something valuable so I must be valuable. The problem is that I am attaching significance and value to what I do instead of who I am. This is a slippery slope because let’s face it, I won’t always be able to “do”, will I? If I believe I am significant through doing, then my significance waxes and wanes according to my effort. Cue midlife crisis!
Proud (and aggressive) mama sitting on her nest
My significance must come from outside myself. Where does my value/worth come from? Where does your value/worth come from? It comes from the simple fact that humans are made Imago Dei, in the image of God. Not only that but the God of the Universe desires to have relationship with me (not just me, but all humanity.) I am the Beloved. You are the Beloved. This is our true identity.
Sweet fluffy-headed baby hummer
Os Guinness said it this way: “We are not primarily called to do something or go somewhere; we are called to Someone.” This brings me great comfort as I transition from homeschool mom to I-don’t-know-what-I’ll-be-when-I-grow-up. I’m secure in the knowledge that it matters not what I do, but that I am beloved and valued by God, just as I am. When insecurity, fear of insignificance or doubts come flooding in, I will remember that I let go of finding my significance in what I do (what a relief) and instead find my value in my identity as the Beloved.
Baby bird getting so big!
I’m blogging with a group of women all writing about “Letting Go.” Take a moment and scroll through beginning with Staci. Thank you.
Letting Go
Embracing aging is counter-culture, particularly in LA culture. Boob jobs, Botox, and belly tucks abound. Finding the elusive Fountain of Youth is the path most are on. Well, I want to be the poster child for aging gracefully and naturally, with humor. Because if you can’t laugh about sagging boobs, joint pain and leaking bladders, what can you laugh about?
| All photos taken by Bean. |
I admit that I’ve had moments of sadness over aging. I think it’s pretty normal to feel some feelings about getting older. I’m kinda in the weird middle-aged stage. And you know what? It does feel awkward like the middle school stage, without the zits or raging pre-pubescent hormones. Gosh, I could use a dash of those pre-pubescent hormones.
About a year ago, I found myself in a dark place; emotionally, spiritually and physically. It wasn’t entirely centered around aging but I certainly felt old, tired, frumpy, overweight, etc. I was only forty-six! I knew I didn’t want to continue on the path I was on. Something had to change, thus, the hashtag heading to 50 feeling nifty came forth.
The philosophy behind the hashtag is I have a long-term goal; to age gracefully and naturally. I want to feel the best I’ve ever felt when I arrive at fifty, which, by the way, will take place in 2019 (freaked out face emoji!) I can’t do quick fixes. In fact, I am shite at quick fixes. If I am having a bad eating day or an “I-don’t-want-to-move-my-butt” day, it doesn’t derail me as it used to in the past because I’m shooting for better overall health, not a quick fix.
#headingto55andgonnathrive
Sharing my journey of hope.
Seeking, inviting, learning, holding
One picture could change your life.
No crap on tap
No crap on tap
a 52-week photography blog by shirina and michele
meg on tap 