It's so nice when you meet someone that finally gets it right. When one shade of gray reaches another shade of gray to recreate the dark, dismal picture that the world paints every day. New life, new perspective, new way of thinking. We get it. How come no one else does?
The black and white picture leaves so much out. The cold, hard facts of any situation must be infused with a kind, compassionate consideration for the human at the center of the controversy. My greatest hope for the human heart would be that it will always looks upon others with compassion, understanding, respect, and above all, the realization that everyone has a story. Everyone is going through something. Everyone is in a different place on their journey to accepting what has or has not happened to them and deciding where to go from here. Before you judge, reach out. Don't have an opinion on something that is none of your concern. Never speak out against someone with malice in your words that they don't need to hear from you.Chances are, they get that from everyone else already and probably even from themselves.
Instead, manifest that energy by promoting love and acceptance. Offer support instead of advice. Program your mind to speak words that lift others up and inspire them to make the same changes in their own lives. We're all here. We're all confused. We're all stressed and worried and trying to make it through to the light at the end of the tunnel. Make the conscious effort to be the person that makes the journey of someone else easier. Even a little bit. Because those seemingly insignificant acts of kindness ignite the spectrum at the end of the tunnel. Let's make it burn our eyes.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
2.6.12
8. Cancer sucks.
If you know me at all, you know how much respect I have for my mom. She was my greatest caretaker during my nearly three year experience with cancer. Cancer took a toll on her body as well as mine. After my surgeries, she was litreally my strength when I had none. She had many more sleepless nights than me. She scrutinized over every pill that came in a plastic cup for me. She knew every prescrition, every dosage, every chemotherapy agent, and every set of hands that came near my port or near my body. She was my everything. And she will always be that for me.
I am most proud of my mom not when she is talking about me, but when she is talking about her professional career. Cindy McNeil, Speech Language Pathologist. Top notch, caring, empathetic, the real deal. If it were my husband or my family member lying in that bed dealing with the devestating residuals of a stroke, I would want her on my side. In the midst of a job change, she has been in a workshop all day. She's been telling me all night about her day. The big wigs from the company spent the day blowing smoke about providing top of the line care for their patients. "We want our patients to remember Grace Hopsital. We want them to remember great food, a nice bed, good experience with people." These are the men in suits, sitting behind desks, spending their day writing mission statements and figuring out how to make themselves some money. My mom is the real life application of their so called mission statement. The provider in patient's rooms trying to facilitate healing and progress for great candidates to recover and return home. My mom spoke up. She was the voice for so many struggling, some of them even being her own patients. She told him that, after being on the recieving end of a fight for a loved one's life, a cheeseburger or a bed doesn't mean a hill of beans. What matters is compassionate people providing real care.
Mom's stories of how patients are treated and how the buisness end of healthcare often encroaches on the real life application of people fighting for their lives inspires me. I'm not sure where I'm meant to be, but it is my greatest hope that I get to spend my life advocating for patients and their families. Supporting patients on both a personal and professional level. Making a difference where I see changes that need to be made. Am I capable? Is that where I'm meant to be? I guess time will tell. I'm down to give it a go, you in?
With Love,
Sarah
If you know me at all, you know how much respect I have for my mom. She was my greatest caretaker during my nearly three year experience with cancer. Cancer took a toll on her body as well as mine. After my surgeries, she was litreally my strength when I had none. She had many more sleepless nights than me. She scrutinized over every pill that came in a plastic cup for me. She knew every prescrition, every dosage, every chemotherapy agent, and every set of hands that came near my port or near my body. She was my everything. And she will always be that for me.
I am most proud of my mom not when she is talking about me, but when she is talking about her professional career. Cindy McNeil, Speech Language Pathologist. Top notch, caring, empathetic, the real deal. If it were my husband or my family member lying in that bed dealing with the devestating residuals of a stroke, I would want her on my side. In the midst of a job change, she has been in a workshop all day. She's been telling me all night about her day. The big wigs from the company spent the day blowing smoke about providing top of the line care for their patients. "We want our patients to remember Grace Hopsital. We want them to remember great food, a nice bed, good experience with people." These are the men in suits, sitting behind desks, spending their day writing mission statements and figuring out how to make themselves some money. My mom is the real life application of their so called mission statement. The provider in patient's rooms trying to facilitate healing and progress for great candidates to recover and return home. My mom spoke up. She was the voice for so many struggling, some of them even being her own patients. She told him that, after being on the recieving end of a fight for a loved one's life, a cheeseburger or a bed doesn't mean a hill of beans. What matters is compassionate people providing real care.
Mom's stories of how patients are treated and how the buisness end of healthcare often encroaches on the real life application of people fighting for their lives inspires me. I'm not sure where I'm meant to be, but it is my greatest hope that I get to spend my life advocating for patients and their families. Supporting patients on both a personal and professional level. Making a difference where I see changes that need to be made. Am I capable? Is that where I'm meant to be? I guess time will tell. I'm down to give it a go, you in?
With Love,
Sarah
Thursday, January 26, 2012
1.26.12
7. My last band competition, two weeks ago, was legit one of the most incredible days of my life. Once again, more to come on that later.
Saturday, November 5. I sleepily rolled out of bed at 6:00 a.m. I bundled up for the insanely cold weather that so effortlessly says "marching band season". On the way to FTF, I cried and cried and cried. Lots of tears. Some of them were sad, sad that this was my last marching band competition. Sad that this was the last time we would feel the commraderie that can only come from marching a show we've worked on for months on end. Some of them were happy. Happy that I have had this opportunity. Happy that I have met my Foard Tiger Band members and happy that in the midst of change, they always keep my feet on the ground. Some of them were senior year tears. Tears of disbelief that this was it. Another ending, opening the door to a lot of firsts yet to come.A trip to Starbucks with my other half completed the morning. The barista- "Hey, you guys are both named Sarah! And you're wearing the same shirt!" Our reply- "Yes, we're pretty much twins!"
At North Davidson, we left all our hearts on the field and took home a grand champion trophy. That awesome awesome award came no where near to how I felt. The emotion that day was real, real tears and lots and lots of real laughter. I'm so completely grateful for my marching band experience, however different it may have been. Regardless of if I continue on with music in college, I will always have November 5th.
And my last tear shed that day would be during our performance, looking up to see our gorgeous drum major doing her thing one last time and our amazing band parents crying and laughing and experiencing the performance right there with us. Moment of a life time.
Happy Friday Eve! How was your week? Hope you smiled a lot and cried a little and lived it all!
With Love,
Sarah
Saturday, November 5. I sleepily rolled out of bed at 6:00 a.m. I bundled up for the insanely cold weather that so effortlessly says "marching band season". On the way to FTF, I cried and cried and cried. Lots of tears. Some of them were sad, sad that this was my last marching band competition. Sad that this was the last time we would feel the commraderie that can only come from marching a show we've worked on for months on end. Some of them were happy. Happy that I have had this opportunity. Happy that I have met my Foard Tiger Band members and happy that in the midst of change, they always keep my feet on the ground. Some of them were senior year tears. Tears of disbelief that this was it. Another ending, opening the door to a lot of firsts yet to come.A trip to Starbucks with my other half completed the morning. The barista- "Hey, you guys are both named Sarah! And you're wearing the same shirt!" Our reply- "Yes, we're pretty much twins!"
At North Davidson, we left all our hearts on the field and took home a grand champion trophy. That awesome awesome award came no where near to how I felt. The emotion that day was real, real tears and lots and lots of real laughter. I'm so completely grateful for my marching band experience, however different it may have been. Regardless of if I continue on with music in college, I will always have November 5th.
And my last tear shed that day would be during our performance, looking up to see our gorgeous drum major doing her thing one last time and our amazing band parents crying and laughing and experiencing the performance right there with us. Moment of a life time.
Happy Friday Eve! How was your week? Hope you smiled a lot and cried a little and lived it all!
With Love,
Sarah
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
1.25.12
Let's just pretend that nearly three months haven't passed without me blogging! Let's just pick up where we left off. That's what I love about you, you're never out of second chances (:
6. Today, Kayla left for her first music educator's conference. I'm so proud of her and what she has decided to do with her life.
I could talk about this girl all day. Kayla is one of the most amazing humans I've ever had the privillege to know. And it's not just because she's my sister. That's just an added bonus.
She's kind and honest. She's completely selfless. She has a beautiful disposition and outlook on life. She's better than me in so many ways. She's going to make an amazing teacher. Some really lucky elementary school kids are going to get an aweosme start to a life full of loving music because they've learned from the best. Although we joke about the pitiful pay check all the time, teaching, and especially teaching music, is one of the most beautiful things you can choose to do with your life. Many of the most influential people in my life have touched my heart by sharing their love of music with me. Their passion has motivated mine. So here's to all the teachers in my life and in this world. And here's to the best person I know and the girl I aspire to be: Kayla Marie McNeil! Oh, and by the way, you're really pretty! (:
With Love,
Sarah
6. Today, Kayla left for her first music educator's conference. I'm so proud of her and what she has decided to do with her life.
I could talk about this girl all day. Kayla is one of the most amazing humans I've ever had the privillege to know. And it's not just because she's my sister. That's just an added bonus.
She's kind and honest. She's completely selfless. She has a beautiful disposition and outlook on life. She's better than me in so many ways. She's going to make an amazing teacher. Some really lucky elementary school kids are going to get an aweosme start to a life full of loving music because they've learned from the best. Although we joke about the pitiful pay check all the time, teaching, and especially teaching music, is one of the most beautiful things you can choose to do with your life. Many of the most influential people in my life have touched my heart by sharing their love of music with me. Their passion has motivated mine. So here's to all the teachers in my life and in this world. And here's to the best person I know and the girl I aspire to be: Kayla Marie McNeil! Oh, and by the way, you're really pretty! (:
With Love,
Sarah
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