Sweet Moments

Taking a moment basking in the city streets and the late Norwegian sun reflecting on not only my home nations 148th birthday, but also my official second year in Norway! There are still some unknowns as to what the next year holds, but these last two years have been some of the sweetest, kindest moments to date. I have 8 moleskin journals of friendship, pain, heartache, dreams lost, dreams set in motion, healing, freedom, adventure, betrayal, restoration, and love. I can't wait to reread them, and see where I have come from, and to see where I am going.

Reflecting on this time brings me to tears, because despite the ups and downs and all the unknowns, my heart needed Norway, my heart needs Norway, and I have found myself in a way that was exactly what my heart needed. 

Above all the wonderful adventures, things that I have seen and done, by far the best part is the friends that I have made and allowed me into their lives, and them into mine. I needed friends, everyone needs friends, but the quality of friends I have encountered and made in Norway is irreplaceable. These two years have been a gift, and I am hoping for another three years (or more!)

There has been much risk with my Norwegian adventure, as goes with most of the adventures in life. I usually don't see it as a risk. Many friends, or peers will tell me that I am brave for moving to a foreign country, to do something different. I see it as a challenge, an adventure. Taking the challenge as a problem that I will solve and conquer. I am trying my best to do it with a smile and positivity. 

Often I feel so hard on myself, placing the expectation from me to me that everything has to be perfect, everything has to be done well, and with excellence and integrity, when in fact life is flawed. I am flawed. And that is what makes everything all that more fun! Finding the beauty and harmony in a broken life, in a broken world. That's true beauty and love, seeing (and experiencing) the imperfect and the pain, but still finding joy and love. Now that is an adventure worth living, and a risk worth taking.

I am now sitting at an airport, embarking on yet another adventure, reflecting on these words I wrote two days ago. Learning to trust the unknown, take in peace and rest and believe that the best is yet to come. 

The Power of the Dream Board

Back when I was in the middle of the worst of my back pain, when all had seemed hopeless, that good things were not a possibility for me, I made a dream board. A friend and I used to meet for weekly coffee dates sharing different ideas, dreams and thoughts we had for our lives. She would share with me about a dream board she had made and how items began coming to pass. One day she showed me her board, and it inspired me to muster up the little faith that I had. I began to jot down what I saw as impossible goals.

I had a weekend planned visiting one of my best friends, and one of her favourite things to do is host a craft night. A night where her and others join together to keep each other company and inspired while they complete crafts and art projects. I decided it would be a perfect night to work on my dream board. Using a bulletin board, I covered it in fabric to make it look pretty. I then wrote my ideas and dreams on individual cards and included a few images. I know of others who use pictures, magazine cut outs, as well as words and textiles to inspire their visions.

I pinned my ideas on the bulletin board and hung it on my wall to see as a daily reminder. It helped me more than I could have ever imagined. Seeing my dreams daily in print I believe subconsciously aided me to stay focused and to obtain these goals. Or perhaps the declaration of putting my intentions out there was equally as powerful. Any time one of my dreams got accomplished I got rid of it. To help me stay concentrated on the items that remained and to make room for more.

As much as I wanted to make this incredibly, trendy masterpiece of a dream board, I just didn't have the money, time or energy to make it creative. I was in agonizing pain. And at this point my faith was very small. I figured, it doesn't matter that it's not perfect, it just matters that I get it done. My board is simple, and somewhat basic. I didn't necessarily go into the specifics. Mostly because I didn't even believe the simple dreams would ever come to pass. The reason I titled this blog The Power of the Dream Board is because out of the 11 items I posted, 7 of them have come to pass, and only a few remain to be fully completed.

I know there are online versions of this concept too. For some reason I personally felt it was important to physically have it hanging on my wall. Now that many items have been achieved, I decided to make a new one to hang in my room while I am in Norway. This time I had the courage to write more details. I still kept my concept simple, due to finances, but that doesn't change the meaning.

I feel inspired to share my story and to encourage others to make a similar board, big or small, simple or creative, detailed or vague. Just put your heart into it. Take time to meditate on what is in your soul, write down the struggles, the problems, the far out dreams, and watch the solutions come in, and the dreams come to pass. Thoughts can create reality. If you see your board daily, you will eventually believe it for yourself.

If you have a dream board, or have had success with yours I'd love for you to share your story or show the board to inspire others!

 

My first Dream Board, that I made a little over a year ago.

My new Dream Board that I made this week for my room in Norway. 

Taking A Siesta

The question I get asked the most these days is “What do you fill your day with?”. If I am not stimulated enough, I will happily fill my schedule with whatever is in front of me in order to stay busy. I once nannied full time during the day, worked full time overnight and then participated in every social activity just due to boredom. Although I managed that lifestyle for a bit, I was young and zealous. I have now come to discover that that type of lifestyle can't be maintained for long, and especially without rest. Whether we choose a fast pace style of living, or one is handed to us, we need to be aware of the ebbs and flows. To perceive when it is a time to sit still and when it is a time to go with full force.

My personality gets in the way of me finding rest. I am easily a workaholic. I live for productivity, seeing results, and I definitely do not want to be viewed as lazy. After frequent highly active jobs, I have learned the lesson of not taking a pause the hard way. I went around this mountain many, many times. I had to be broken down and in desperate need of rest before I finally understood what to do during a quiet season. Thankfully this time around I received the interpretation before I was to climb the mountain one more time.

The road of restlessness began in 2006. I gladly volunteered with friends to put on a 21 day, 24-7 music and arts festival in the mountains of North Carolina. The preparation, event and tear down took place over several months. After the festival we were encouraged by friends to rest. To take time to recuperate and refuel. Some heeded the words, others not at all and some of us tried. I will put myself in the tried category. I gave it my best effort. Unfortunately, instead of resting I found myself creating a strict unemployed schedule. Filling my day with all sorts of activities to make myself feel meaningful. Desperately trying to silence the voices of guilt for not having anything important to do. I believe if I had taken the time to unwind, I would have gained insight as to what the next season held. Foresight into what I would be doing next would have helped me to appreciate the downtime without strife.

Only weeks after the festival, some of us from the same group started planning another event. For the next 9 months we worked day and night, 7 days a week planning a stadium event for over 80,000 people. We lived in less than favourable conditions, were barely paid and gave our complete heart towards the work ahead of us. Once the event was finished, I should have recognized the pattern and remembered the advice previously given. Instead, I fell into a similar trap as before, except it was a lot worse.

It was as though I entered a self inflicted whirlwind. I had the time to take it easy but I just didn't know how to. The events I was apart of were on such a high level of intensity, that I couldn't and didn't make myself sit still. The mixture of my temperament wanting to go, go, go and not having an objective left me filling my empty holes with anything that gave me purpose. I rather aimlessly blew around, trying to find direction. Whether it be planning another event, or getting involved in a project that seemed to have determination, prospect and excitement. The past events had such meaning and expectation, that I was seeking the next high to replace it. Not resting when I had the chance, made me very ill prepared for what was ahead.

For what came next wasn't a few months of being busy, but a few years. Yes, years. I had become a Personal Service Worker for two elderly, a job that fell on my lap. Due to the nature of my job, and of course my personality, I often worked 7 days a week, from early morning until oftentimes midnight. A minimum work week would easily be 55 hours, it regularly reached 60 and 70 hours per week. Quite a few times I would end up working over 40 days in a row without a day off. My job was honourable, and I loved my clients. That still didn't mean the work load was wearing on my body and mind. This went on for 5 years, my workdays eventually averaged out to slightly normal hours towards the end.

Call me older and wiser, but when free time was once again offered, I did not turn it down. I recently moved to Norway to experience the culture, travel and work in my spare time. Well, I haven't quite found work. That can be burdensome. To enjoy life, it appears that money has the upper hand. I began to stress and worry. I handed out more resumes then I have in my entire life. I was beginning to have a stress meltdown. Beginning to.

Then, something happened. I slowed down. I sipped my latte. I took in the view. I journaled. I sat down. I people watched. I soaked up the Norwegian sun. I went for runs. I began to be thankful. I reflected. And then the revelation came to me. This is my intermission. My time of rest. My time to contemplate, and figure out what I should do next. According to my previous experiences, the next season that lies ahead of me is most likely going to be busy! The time I have right now I won't get back. I need this time to make up for all the other chances I did not use to slow down. To make up for all the lost weekends and weeknights I didn't have the past 5 years or more. My body, mind and soul needs this. I feel peace like I hadn't in a long time. I feel content and myself. Strangely enough I am not worrying about money as much as I did when I had a job. And I definitely need money more now, then I did before!

The analogy I kept seeing is one of ocean waves. They pull out and are calm, and then a new set of waves comes crashing in. Then it will be still for a while. And suddenly boom, three or four waves come in a row. Supposing you aren't prepared for those waves while you are swimming in the ocean. The waves could take you out. However, if you are rested, sure footed, and prepared you can ride the wave into shore. You will be ready to go back out for the next set.

After every busy season in our life, we are given the opportunity to recover. It is up to us whether we worry or find peace. Thoughts and feelings of strife and guilt are not healthy. I am by no means encouraging people to be lazy and not search for new opportunities, or to not take an opportunity that could be useful. I am suggesting that you take a moment, maybe a day, a week, or perhaps longer. Take that moment and reflect. Meditate on where you have come from, where you are presently and what direction you want to go towards. People always tell me, you can never get this time back. You can't get today back. In that case, I say, seize today and find the rest that you will need for tomorrow.

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

Taking a moment today. Sunset in Oslo, Norway.

Soul Searching, Moving to Norway

There is a bit of a back story to me choosing to move to Norway. Most people ask “Norway? Why Norway?”. Well, to be honest, Norway wasn't even on my grid a week before I started the application process. In fact moving abroad wasn't even in the forefront of my brain at the time.

The concept of going to Europe for travel had been an idea that I toyed with the summer of my high school graduation. A trip to England a few years prior had sparked the interest for a longer trip abroad. The only problem was I didn't have the money. I was saving up to go to school that fall in Charlotte, North Carolina. My 18 year old part-time salary wasn't going to be able to afford Europe. Instead, I stayed home that summer and worked to increase my Charlotte fund. Europe went on the back burner.

After my time in the Carolina's, I moved back home. The desire for Europe didn't go away. It was now however, clouded by a similar problem as before. Money. Except this time I had debt. So I did what I always did and worked for my dad, a Master Painter, and plugged away at my bills. Europe appeared unattainable. I would continually add it to my yearly resolutions, yet it would never make it to the top of the list. To me it legitimately seemed impossible.

My first year back we were painting the house of some longtime friends and clients of my dad. An elderly brother and sister, both widower, and widowed. While working on their house, we noticed that the elderly sister needed assistance beyond what her younger brother could provide. So I transitioned from Painter's Assistant to Personal Service Worker.

After nearly 4 years of working with my elderly clients a combination of events (shovelling snow and being rear-ended in two car accidents) led me to be in the worst back and leg pain of my life. I had to carry on working more than full time, in pain, waiting on my health care system. Those 10 months of pain were to date the worst 10 months of my life. I was unable to stand up straight, nor walk, sit, sleep, or do anything without excruciating pain, every single moment of the day. Thankfully I received back surgery that eliminated all the pain and 99% of my discomfort. I am a tough girl. Any one of my friends would say that. The pain that I experienced during that season broke me down physically and emotionally. I was damaged in ways I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to rebuild.

Before going back to work after my surgery I took a trip to do some soul searching. My mom encouraged me to get away to reflect, gain perspective, and to feel refreshed. I wholeheartedly agreed. After helping my elderly clients for a significant amount of time coupled with the year of debilitating pain, I desperately wanted to figure out what I was to do with my life. Should I continue in my day to day as it was, or was there something more. A lot of my dreams and desires seemed no longer existent. To be honest, when I would try to reflect on them all I saw and thought was nothing. Just saw blackness. I had no words or ideas to express what interested me. I couldn't formulate anything from my heart. That wasn't normal for me, nor should be for anyone! We are born and created with passions that should be expressed. I was hoping my time away would awaken this within me, and give me vision for my future.

The trip was great. I saw lots of old friends, felt alive and happy. Though I still had no idea what I wanted to do or be. And if I did, how to make it all happen. I had this sense of knowing it was time to move on. That my current job was coming to an end. Although, I couldn't leave my position without having a new plan. Leaving my clients was a hard process. I loved and cared for them. My emotions made it difficult to let go and trust that they'd be alright. In order for me to fully pull out, my replacement day to day would need to make my heart beat faster. 

In my mind I came back from this soul searching trip empty handed. As I reflect, I realize that as soon as I had made the decision to move on from my job, a new opportunity was on its way. Within days of my return I met a friend for dinner. Out of the blue she gives me the idea to apply for a holiday working visa for overseas. I had no clue this existed! As a result of being Canadian, we have certain agreements with European and Commonwealth countries. Typically a one year visa is offered to young adults between the ages of 18-35, with the possibility to apply for a second year, depending on the country. Immediately upon hearing this idea I began to get excited like I hadn't in years. I don't think I felt that excited and sure of a decision since my move to Charlotte for school.

I went home from dinner and spent the following weekend researching the application process and listing the countries that interested me. I narrowed it down to the UK, Australia, New Zealand and Norway. Still you may ask, “Norway?”. Some of the countries I chose were due to an English language, others because of sun, warmth and beaches, and some due to friends already living there. The same weekend of my research I received a message from my friend in Norway. She was just seeing how I was doing, and wanting to catch up. I told her my idea, and mentioned the possibility of Norway. Right away she was excited and said for me to come! It rang clear with me. I additionally was keen on using Norway as a base to travel out from and explore the rest of Europe.

A week after the idea was given to me, I filed the paper work and listed my car for sale to fund my expenses. And I waited. The process was supposed to take a maximum of 3 months, and was typically shorter. While I waited, I prepared, I worked, I planned. I waited for my car to sell. I sold my car. And waited some more. Finally one day, I couldn't wait anymore! It was nearing the end of the 3 month mark and still no word. I contacted the embassy and it turned out my application was accepted 2 months prior. The email never got forwarded. Within a week of me contacting them I had my visa. I booked my flight the same day, and a week later I was in Norway.

I am in the process of learning the rationale behind waiting, and cultivating patience. The reason for giving a brief back story on how I ended up in Norway, is to provide perspective. Context and a time line of events. Nothing happens overnight. There is often pain and suffering in the process of our dreams and desires coming to pass. From the time I started thinking about Europe in high school to officially moving to Norway took at least 13 years. Traveling to Europe is only one of my minor dreams! And it took a long while!

Had I gone to Europe when I was in high school, or even after my time in North Carolina, it would have been fun and adventurous. However, I was a completely different person. I needed the time to mature, not just age wise, but mature in my likes and dislikes. Life experiences such as pain and surgery, jobs, moves, school, they change us, form us, strip us. I had to be striped to the bone of all the things that I thought I wanted and needed. To be open and available for an adventure that I didn't even expect was possible. An adventure greater than I could have ever planned myself. That seems to be how destiny works.

There is hope for anyone feeling at the end of a dark tunnel. Going to the bottom of the pit only means there is one way up. You just have to keep focusing on the little bit of light you see. Then soon enough you will have more light than you can imagine. Never lose hope of your dreams, no matter how much time has passed. You never know the reason for timing until you have arrived. 

“...hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.”

Shawshank Redemption

Here are some pictures from my trip to the Geirangerfjord, Norway this past summer. 

Following Your Heart: The Photographer

Since I was a young girl I have always been interested in the arts, whether it be painting, drawing, media, everything and anything art related. I have at times felt inadequate in my skill compared to my peers. I admit to allowing the fear of man to slow me down. To this day I still struggle, I compare, or try to stay “up to speed” in the latest and greatest. Instead of just allowing myself to follow my heart in the things I enjoy. Part of my struggle also is my personality. I tend to lean more towards the “results” or better yet “instant results”. When you are crafting a craft you have to give the process patience. Maybe that's why I love photography, it's instant. So, combine the need to wait with fear, and you could easily have a closed door for forever. However, the desires and dreams in our heart always find a way to surface. They have a beginning, and an end, as well as an everything in between. Here is my beginning and my in between.

I remember receiving my first camera. I was around six years old and living in Oakbank, Manitoba. My favourite cereal as a kid was Kellogg's Froot Loops, I could (and still could if allowed) eat bowls and bowls of that sugary deliciousness! When I grew up cereal boxes always had games on the back and prizes on the inside. One year Kellogg's was offering a free camera. All you had to do was collect enough barcodes from the back of the boxes and send in a little money for shipping and handling. I was ecstatic. A camera of my very own. With the help of my parents the envelope was sent into Kellogg's and my prize was on its way to my mailbox.

Now this camera wasn't anything flashy in today's standards. It used film, 110 to be exact, didn't have a flash, and was made out of lightweight plastic. Yet I took pictures, and printed them. It was the first of many cameras, new, borrowed, and used that passed through my hands. Reflecting back on my childhood as an adult I have realized how important little events are at nurturing our future. I received that children's camera over 20 years ago, and to this day I still haven't forgotten about it.

When it came to high school I was very blessed to attend a public school enriched with the arts. We had a great music, visual arts, darkroom photography, and beginners graphic design programs available. I did it all. I remember saving up for my first big girl camera, a requirement for the photography class. I had my family give me money that year for my birthday to put towards the purchase. I went to a used camera store where I was able to choose my own frame, lens and case to go with it. I chose the Pentax K1000, a great beginners camera for black and white 35mm.

This camera was a gift, it got me through high school, inspired me, showed me what the world looked like through a lens. My lens, my point of view, my eyes. With that camera I developed my own film, printed my own photos and played with the experimental process in the darkroom. This was all before the industry went digital, and before photography became a trend.

After high school was long gone and I was entering my early twenties I felt challenged. Challenged to sacrifice something so dear to me. Challenged that if I sacrificed the one thing I want to do and be that I would have enough faith and trust that it would come back to me. That the opportunity would come back, the desire would come back, that the dream would still be fulfilled. That particular day I blindly and by faith gave away my camera. My first camera, the camera that helped inspire and develop a dream.

It has been about 8 years since I gave that camera away. Did I make a mistake? I hadn't really been taking meaningful photos since then. In the span of all those years, photography has boomed. Social media allows anyone to be a photographer. Here I spent those prime developing years on the side lines. Barely exercising my skill. This is where sacrifice, and laying things down to die, have greater power when they come back to life. When I laid my camera down, I knew I was sowing a seed, I knew that one day I would reap from what I had sown. My young 20 something self thought it wouldn't be long. I didn't know it'd take nearly a decade, or possibly longer. I didn't know it would take a lot of patience. What I do know is that a seed planted in good soil will sprout at the due time.

Last year I made a dream board. I didn't overload it, I just put a few goals that I could attain to in the near future. I hung the board on my wall, as a daily reminder to pursue these goals. Photography was one of those ambitions. Later that same year I was blessed with an iPhone. Now I do realize that the iPhone isn't a professional camera, and perhaps I would have been better off investing in an actual DSLR camera. I opted for the iPhone as a way to ease myself back into the industry and the art. What's fun about mobile phones is they can inspire you. They aren't entirely evil. It is creativity disposable to your finger tips, in your back pocket ready to capture a moment in time.

Upgrades happen all in time. I am waiting, I am cultivating my gift, getting inspired. Taking a step towards the self inflected closed door. Being patient, but knocking on the door. I had dreams of traveling the world, and documenting my travels through photographs and writing. The older I get, the more this dream matures, and changes. It might not look like it did when I was a teenager. I have different desires for my future too. Finding love and having a family may not mean traveling the world, or it might. But that doesn't matter. The bare bones will always be the same. There is always somewhere to go whether it is Africa or the grocery store. There is always people to help and love on whether it is my neighbour or a child in Romania. That doesn't mean I can't capture my daily travels, big or small. Here's to changing dreams that end in sacrifice and heartbreak into redemption and fulfillment.

My first camera :)

Following Your Heart: The Traveler

I recently purged some old belongings and found a school project with a question from the teacher along the lines, “What do you want to be when you are older?”. I simply wrote, have a family, travel and take pictures. For a long time I have had the yearning to travel the world. To help and love on people and document my travels and experiences through writing and photography. I honestly feel like this is a gift, a calling, a job. It has burned deep within me for many years, that I finally chose to take the leap. A few key life events helped push me over the edge, and I will go more into that in a later entry. As for now, this is my story of how my love for travel was birthed.

The desire to travel was embedded in me. As the youngest of four girls growing up in Ottawa, Canada, we often took road trips. In my younger years it was the family of six packed into the teal 1976 Cadillac driving to Rehobeth Beach, Delaware. A family vacation spot up to this day. At times it was a sister road trip, occasionally it was my parents and I, or my parents and a few of us girls. Often it was for a typical Sunday drive to get out of the city limits, to see a new town, revisit an old town, an excuse to visit friends. Other times it was a weekend trip, Montreal to see Grandma when she was still alive. I loved those trips. We got to ride the metro into town for the best shopping, yummy treats, and to experience the metropolitan big city culture. Then there were weekend trips to the Toronto area to see family and friends. Or how about the times we drove to and from Winnipeg, Manitoba in the middle of winter. On many occasions. Regardless of the place or distance I was destined to travel before I was even out of the womb.

I grew up in the day where Walkmans were a novelty, where every man, woman or child wasn't equipped with entertainment at their finger tips. What we had were the sights and sounds outside our car window. I had a little Rubbermaid storage box that kept a few toys, games or trinkets and it also provided me with the height to see outside my window. I would sit on my makeshift booster seat and stare out the car window watching the world go by. Painting pictures on the fogged up windows, counting license plates from different states, and wishing I could visit every single one of them. I enjoyed seeing the contrasting landscapes, the cities, the cars people drove, the different families and people in those cars, catching a candid moment in a strangers life.

The birth of my love to travel came forth, from the fondness my parents shared with us kids. Being hauled on vacations and trips could be one persons nightmare, for me it was an adventure. Seeing something I have never seen before, and may never see again. Even today, my family is traveling, or making plans to travel. I am in Norway, my parents are planning a trip overseas, one sister travels extensively for work and play, another has a family trip booked to Hawaii, and the eldest is heading out of the country this week. The love was born. We were all called, I am called, and this is my journey.

I am by no means a professional in either writing or photography. Though, I do believe that in the areas of life that we feel called, we hold a key to change. Through stepping out in faith and taking a risk. By doing what makes our heart feel scared and vulnerable. We have the ability to cause change in our lives and the lives of others. This is my humble step of obedience. 

As much as I wanted to include a picture of my childhood with this post, all of my non digital pictures are in another country! So here is a recent travel picture of me in Verdens Ende (World's End), Norway.