I don't mind when you only call me when you want... I'm just glad you want me at all.

Being upside down, nothing use to make me more unsettled. I started this knowing that physically this phenomenon was something true to me but the more I thought about it, the more it trickled into my mind that I didn't like my world turned on its head emotionally or abstractly either.

The turning point was handstands. Eoin Finn Loves Handstands. I do not. Did not. I was almost in tears at the thought of having to boost my butt above my head and hold my own weight on my hands. I would avoid even trying it at any cost. Eoin didn't understand this. His solution was simply to pick me up and suddenly I would be in handstand. Now it was not an instant conversion but by the end of 250 hours... I am addicted to the whole upside down thing. Today in class I was that person who two months previously I would have death glared across class. I was the kid who when the teacher asked "does anyone have any requests?" I responded with HAND STANDS!! And you know what? It was fun. It was playful in the middle of a week where playful was exactly what was necessary. My life also reflects this new theory. Sometimes you need to look at things from an angle so different from that you normally take you feel like you are on your head. This makes the routine new and exciting, life... actually living, not just going through the paces.  Long story short. I.LOVE.UPSIDE.DOWN.

On my block

I have been stressing lately. You probably noticed. Being passionate has its upsides when I am falling madly in love with a job or a boy or a sport or a boy at a job or a sport but being passionate can also get me in big trouble. I throw myself into things head first with out checking for rocks or dead heads where I am to land. I tend to get so wrapped up in these things I am passionate about that I can, especially when it comes to jobs, lose sleep, have camp-mares, ski-hill-reservation-service-mares, nylon-lyrca-mares. Yoga is my salvation. It is my balance. My litmus test of how am I doing today? It is the one thing above all else that centres me.

Tonight was no different. A delicious yin/restorative class in a warm room lead by a young man with a soothing voice. A better end to a Tuesday? I can't think of one. The theme of the class was using stillness as a way to get to know yourself. "If you are wondering why you react or deal with things the way you do" he said, "just sit here for an hour and a lot of answers will arise". I didn't need hours, I needed minutes. Not only did I discover a sensation that eased my tight hip flexors but also an idea which Curran, our instructor, allowed to permeate his class. Horizons of change or transformation. I, like many others I believe, often come to a place in class where the sensation gets to be a distraction, where it would be SO much easier to back out of a posture, rock back into child's pose and wait on the next one to arrive. I get to this place in life too where it is frustrating, I seem as if I am going nowhere, pushing against a stillness that will not move. These, Curran described, were simply a great opportunity to learn about our selves. These are our horizons of change.

Santa Monica you've got no chance

I haven’t cried for no real reason in what feels like forever. They are the kind of tears that come on without warning, like storms on the island, they come off the ocean in an instant and there is so much beauty, in the raw power of it.  I am frantic not to disappoint, steadfast in my lust to keep balance in my life, hanging by a fingernail to get one step ahead when I am just one step behind. I love it. These feelings keep the knowledge that I am living, moving forward at the forefront of my mind. And, as I rarely cry, it is a glimpse into the few moments where my eyes change colour under the glassy liquid to what I always dreamed they were.

I am standing in nothing with every single possibility ahead and while this inspires the pants off me it is also scary as. Fortunately, courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyways, at least according to John Wayne and I am pretty sure he knows a thing or two about courage. Off to ride into the sunset…

Baby baby don't you stop, up on that mountain top.

By the grace of something great another addictive album by another favourite band has fallen into my possession. Having a strong affinity to these boys, through study sessions in the library of our alma-mater, through golden summer camp days, heck even through naming my car after their lead singer, I can't get enough of their catchy-foot-tapping beats. This latest album is no disappointment. I am listening to this, some of this, and even a little bit of this. mmm, delicious!

Funny enough my crazy world is both everything to me right now and yet I find I am not attached. Committed yes. Attached no. I never really saw a distinction in these two but if the work I do is anything it is a study in language and the subtle nature of words and how they shape our world. No, I am not a writer, my day job is MUCH more tangible.  Attachment is this thing that is based in our ego (at least mine, my ego LOVES attachment). To me attachment is when something, someone or time or way that I may not even really like or be attracted to becomes something/one/way/time that I greatly fear losing because it is in someway identified as MINE and if I lose it I become less because this thing is not in my possession. Crazy eh? ( secretly, or not, this tends to be a lot of relationships I get my saucy little self into but perhaps we shall leave that for another day). Commitment on the other hand speaks to me as something that I truly value to improve my life and those of others but if lost I am still whole. Perfect, complete and whole. Back on topic, I am committed to my job these days because it is just so darned fun. I get to take risks and make decisions and improve the situation for all involved. It speaks to me.

As someone who is deeply passionate and values this passion in my life I find it very easy to get carried away. I told you that I would keep you up to date on how reading "Focal Point" was going... well so far it has told me to take 1 day off a week. I don't just mean a day off where you are not on the schedule but you check emails, take work phone calls, stop by the office "just to pick something up". NO they mean A DAY OFF. Like NO PHONE, NO EMAIL. Holy smokes. I am tempted just to try it this weekend to see if I spontaneously combust. So in blog form I solemnly commit to taking Sunday off. Yest the whole thing.

Lastly. This was the first of Their songs I fell in love with. Jay wrote it and played it to his campers the summer he worked there, by the water. This brings me back to where ever I need to go. Whenever I need to go there. This.Is. it

wont you give me something that i need... give me something to believe in

It might be shocking to hear, knowing what I did last night, that today was inspiring, inspiring just like lightning out of a clear sky. It is becoming evident that Friday is my night to let loose after my jam packed weeks. Now last night was pretty tame as Friday nights go except it is becoming increasingly clear that I can't simply pretend that my wheat allergies don't exist when it comes to a pint or two of Grasshopper. This being said I am not sure wether to chalk this rather under the weather feeling up to a true hangover or, more likely, to a vicious wheat allergy just trying to help me see the light. Either way today did not seem promising when I awoke at 8:30 this am.

Luckily enough the light was spectacular today! We don't get very many days in Calgary that seem to be veiled with such a golden mist that everything glows under the sun. The cyprus trees at the end of the alley were a noble and other worldly sight this morning.  In my less than perky way I drove off to coffee with a very dear friend. This woman is one in my life who never ceases to amaze me. Though our friendship started in a rather unlikely way it has grown to a deep connection that I share with very few. In her wisdom this morning she reminded me that THIS. IS. IT. This is it. SO easy. I know it just hit home today, hard like the a hammer on a nail head, putting one more board in place in the foundations of the future. It's funny to think that when we are complete with our past we can truly create for ourselves a future that is what we want and now in this moment this is all we have, this is it. This is the only moment, the only posture in the world, the only song, the only meal. In this moment, you and I are all that exist. Sigh, big thoughts for such a day.

Tell me if I'm going crazy but everything you said amazed me...

My Friday morning ritual includes a trip to the farmers market. On the best of days I meet up with one of the girls from work but today it was a solo mission. It was pure magic. I started, as usual, with a trip to the long line up for a Phil & Sebastian latte (my only REAL milk of the week). Now as much as the line is always rather winding and lengthy at its end are always handsome men, perfectly texturized milk, and if your as lucky as I was this morning, a beautiful heart in your coffee! The nice thing about avoiding dairy most of the time is when you have a delicious 2% milk latte it is so sweet. I took my first foamy sip and seriously considered going back to the bar to ask if they have mistakenly put sugar in it (and a little bit to have a reason to flirt with the charming baristas). The morning continued with an overwhelming array of colour and delicious smells. I bought spinach from a delightful farmer man who talked my ear off about crops and labour as I smiled, happy with the knowledge that I not only knew where my food came from but also who was lovingly bagging it and making sure it went to a good home. The one moment, above all the colour and laughter, that i wished I had captured on film was two little boys, one very very blond and the other darker, each perched on a green milk crate with another on in front as a table devouring homemade perogies and sour cream (oh, i wish i was doing the same... stupid pre-christmas slim down) while their mother rang through vegetables and organic chicken to feed the families of downtown.

Burning down the mountain, better call on the fire brigade

I am living life at full tilt these days. I am the happiest chicken running around headless or maybe more accurately the newest puppy so overwhelmed by smells and sights, I don't know what to do first, I don't know where to go the quickest. It has left me drained but oh so content.

Newly I am fully addicted to the most recent Kings of Leon album. More addicted than I had predicted. (yes, I know that rhymes). I know I can't stop writing about it but it is THE most perfect thing to listen to on these brilliant fall days. Catchy enough to sing along to, great with the windows up or down, and just melancholy enough to be fitting for this season. Sigh, I am in love, in deep.

Lastly, for my most random post yet, I spent more time in Staples today than most people would deem necessary. It is my happy place. There is nothing like new stationary to put me in a very organized, productive and blissful mood.

All in all, Great Day. Hope you all (i am utterly convinced it is not just me anymore) had one too!

Wish they all could be California Girls

I have theses sun glasses. Nothing is really special about them. The frames aren't too big  (fact I LOVE big sunglasses), they are brown and of a classic shape. What is remarkable about them is this. Everything I see through them has this perfect tint to it. Like everything I see through them is an exquisitely edited photo. It makes me look at everything with fresh eyes. Today, for example, I couldn't stop staring at the clouds. This could have been bad if traffic wasn't stop and start ( mostly stop) on the way from work to more 'work'. Every time I looked up though I was floored, floored by our amazing prairie sky. Sigh, once an Alberta girl always and Alberta girl.

Who's side are you on, what side is there anyway?

This city is ripe with newness. A new mayor who might just be the change we all need to see in the world (quite an uncommon thing in this city driven by oil, gas and an old world conservative sensibility...sometimes). A new job for me. One I have lived and breathed and fought with and for most days for the last year. Remember your first year of high school? That year you went from being at the top of your game in junior high and suddenly you were starting fresh, right at the bottom of the pack again. It's a pretty sweet feeling with nothing to loose and everything to gain. That is how I feel moving into my new role, I am definitely the fresh faced new comer. There is so much that I don't know I don't know that I can't wait to get in deep.

In addition to all these wonderful new job opportunities the new Kings of Leon album came out today and it is spectacular. Not only are these boys easy on the eyes and ears but they create music that tugs at my heart strings and those tugs mark moments that will stay with me forever. The first time I heard them I was in a bar in Siem Reap called Angkor What? Two very handsome british men were vying for our affection and True Love Way came on. This band ended up representing a lot of that summer travelling South East Asia and has trickled into the rest of my life.

Equally lovely is the new (and new ONLY to me) book I have recently picked up. Focal Point by Brian Tracy is going to kick my butt into gear! I will keep you updated on my transformation.

continued...

Getting down 25 things that are inspiring is more work than I thought. Here it is... the last 10.

15) The process of visualizing the life that I truly desire is one of the most powerfully inspirational things I have done. Details that bring about in me feelings of contentment, power and excitement range from the kind of light my studio will get in the winter to how eccentric my future husband thinks my hobbies are. It is this process of goal setting and achieving them that keeps my fire lit. It is also the true challenge of failing to reach momentous goals in the way or time I originally imagined (and failing multiple times at this) and then finally digging deep, working hard and, like reaching the summit after an arduous climb, coming out on top.

16) My life’s mission is to teach others, to inspire them to be the greatest versions of themselves. It drains me, takes all I’ve got every time, but nothing, not anything gives me the same high as someone figuring out they are great at something. That they can achieve anything thing they want.

17) Colour. I lived once, in a town that for 8 months of the year was gray. Gray stone buildings, gray lake, gray sky, dirty gray snow. It was nearly the end of me. Red, blue, green and all in between are what keep me sparked.

18) Usually the middle of August a little nudge creeps into my brain, it is about that time again. Ski movie trailers come out! You might think ‘ well how could this girl possibly compare ski movie trailers to things like the Rockies or goal setting or making out to Bob Dylan’ but the honesty of the matter comes down to this. Ski movie trailers get me stoked for what’s to come while often others are already mourning the loss of summer. I head to the gym to prep my legs to deal with the lactic acid that will soon build in them as my skis chew powder. I dust off my skis and take them in to see Don, the same man who has been taking care of them and their predecessors for me for over 2 decades. It gets me excited about the thing that gets me inspired. What more could I ask for?

19) I was 17 and had just learned how to drive stick. I distinctly remember the sky was gray, the highway gleamed under the falling rain. I had kicked off my school shoes, exposing green knee socked foot to the pedals so I could feel the connection better. The heat was on full, it was freezing. Some song I had an affinity for in my last year of high school was playing on the radio and all I could think of was how right then, right now, was the most perfect moment in the world.

20) Any group going through something big is bound to bond. Bound to inspire each other through shared experiences. The people who I went through 200 hours with this summer on The Island epitomize this concept. Each was so empathetic, so powerful, so graceful and beyond any stretch of the imagination, each were so completely hilarious. They were mums, dads, young, Olympians, nurses, farmers, all bringing something unique and progressing to the table.

21) Ferries. My best thinking has always been done on a giant boat.

22)… or driving a vehicle. Feeling the breeze on my collar bones in the summer, driving barefoot, road tripping with a good friend, long treks my myself, all are places of transition and new discoveries.

23) My family to make it easy.

24) Quiet time.

25) Those around me who are not afraid to be themselves or to be the change they wish to see in the world.  “There’s nothing more dangerous than someone who wants to make the world a better place.” - Banksy 

SO that's it. 

Sleep Tight!

I get world sick every time I take a step

I find no shortage of inspiration in my life these days. It's abundance is what keeps me creating, moving forward, loving. A dear friend and fellow writer recently created a list of moments that sparked her and I want to create a similar record. Below are the 25 things that I can always count on to make my heart skip a beat.

1) A camera in my hand and any city street, open field, or mountain vista. I feel alive when I capture the subtle and unexpected.

2) This. This woman lives the dream and expresses it in a way that makes me wonder if we were sisters in another lifetime. I'm convinced.

3) Having to drop into a run and the moment at the top when my legs freeze a little and then my skis glide off the edge and the rest of me follows and for a few seconds there is nothing between me and the snow but air.

4) Warrior 2. I have been told repeatedly that it is obvious to people this is my favourite posture.

5) New socks. I am not really certain this should count as a top 25 most inspirational facet of my life but there is nothing like putting on a new pair for the first time. My brother and I, having never spoken of our mutual love both answered the question: What would you buy if you won the lottery? with- New socks of course.

6) Doug Coombs, Shane McConkey, CR Johnson. Men who revolutionized our sport. Made skiing cool (no pun intended), made progression real, worshipped in the church of the mountains. They make all who live to ski another season proud to enjoy snow under base, to challenge ourselves, to push our sport and to love every second out there... and then to have a beer or two in the lodge to reminisce on where we came from.

7) Music. It is hard to describe distinctly what music I like but I do know it is the type that stirs something inside you. You can feel it in your chest, reverberating around in there. It is like this and like this, this or even like this. (Yes... it has become obvious that I am a hopeless romantic.)

8) Lawren Harris. Western Canadian art allows me to see my surroundings in a way that brings back the mystery to our modern world. To Mr. Harris and the other members of the group of 7 I am truly grateful and ever inspired.

9) Making out to Bob Dylan. This should likely have been number 1. I am not sure if this is truly inspirational or simply one of my favourite, and least often indulged in, activities but it sure makes me feel like I belonged in an earlier, politically driven... let's be honest here, hippy time. Plus making out is always inspirational... right?

10) Two Words. Eoin Finn. There is a good chance if he wasn't in my life this blog, my photos, my epic-ly toned triceps, none of it would exist. Yeah he's really brilliant, rocks yoga in blue jeans and has the sense of humour of an 8 year old boy crossed with a 16 year old boy with a pinch of 85 year old yogi guru thrown in but it is his unwavering passion for doing what he knows he is on this earth to do and to help people follow their own paths that makes him such an inspiration to me.

11) I think it is getting pretty evident at this point that I am infatuated with the mountains and the ocean. Being humbled my such power, grace, honesty and limb numbing beauty had brought me to tears and back again. My photos, paintings, every growing need to express myself comes from their power, ever etched into my skin so I carry their strength with me everywhere.

12) To me it is never enough to just take a picture, it is changing its subtleties to suit what I really saw that completes the process. It is my mediation, it is my quick creative fix. It is my love.

13) I am not inspired by running. That is to say I am inspired, though slightly cautious of those who run extreme distances for fun, though they would likely say the same about me and some of my pursuits. What does inspire me about this endeavour is the worthy time that I can spend in our city's version of nature and listening to good tunes. Our rivers, hills and parks allow me a chance to get back to my roots without hopping in a car. Thank goodness for running!

14) Flowing through a yoga practice at home, especially in the sun outside always brings me to a better place. I never get the opportunity to think about what I have to do later, (Do I have to go to the bank before I get an almond milk latte or should I go after?), what daily tasks could fill my hour and a half in a more 'productive' way, (Did I turn the dishwasher on? I wonder how many emails I will have when I get off this mat...). I just think to breathe, stay in the postures exactly the amount of time that feels right and then move on  to the next. Exhale.

15-25 tomorrow... and photos. This inspired girl has to hit the hay!

I know you've been waitin' you've been waitin' a long time for me...

... But if you wait a little longer this is how it'll be. Oh it's gonna be hot, like fire.

I am very fond of wave analogies. They represent the rhythm of a good vinyasa class, the way the seasons ebb and flow. The reside on the back of my neck, inked beneath the mountain peaks and they move my life. I can accurately describe where on the wave I am to people when they ask how i'm doing. Sometimes I am on the downward slope, cruising into darkness and despair, some times I am riding high - completely oblivious to the crashing white water around me. Sometimes, just when I am working my butt off to get out of the surf I am going up hill. My heart skips a beat.

There is something about everything in life laying out before you like a prairie highway under the cerulean sky that grabs you. Suddenly without ground or ceiling. Things are actively looking up. All the hard work of coming down the wave is paying off and yet, nothing, not a thing, is for certain and it adds a ballsy excitement to life. To be blatant, I am here and now. I am full of kinetic energy coming off a variety of life learnings, Work (yes with a capital W) is nearly (and I stress nearly) where I have wanted it to be for over a year. There is someone slowly becoming part of my life who lights me up in a more authentic way that i am accustomed to. I am getting strong. I am figuring my shit out. I have a deep gratitude for what has already been put into motion and yet there is my mother, standing just beyond the finish line of my Nancy Greene ski races saying... you haven't won quite yet. It is that wondrous last sprint and the time when the men are separated from the boys, sort to speak, that gets me up in the morning, puts a smile of my face, tells me 'get up from falling, one more time or a dozen if you have to'.

I am finally stepping in to it. What they've all been waiting for. What I knew would spark a fire deep down long ago.

And I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone...

I have come to understand one thing. It has taken me 25 years of a lot of failing and figuring out.  Like Bob Dylan says "All I can do is be me, whoever that is".  It is more liberating than feeling my skis leave earth dropping over a lip, more freeing than sailing a laser into the light, hiking way over the side. Now, I am not going to claim I had this all figured out for a long time but for the last week or two I have lived my life as who I am, no excuses. Do you know how liberating this is? It is UNBELIEVABLE. To be honest I think part of the fun is that it has a tendency of scaring the pants off everyone around me but it has suddenly taken all the stress out of life. This true authenticity really makes it easy to decide who will be part of my day to day existence and what I chose to do. If people don't like me or what I value and find beauty or meaning in than that is their choice and a disservice to both of us for me to fake otherwise. It leaves all parties disappointed. Being honest and open about my short comings has created the space for me to also celebrate my strengths and for others to share with me. I will not go back but simply use this discovery to grow more. Find more inspiration in the world. Sigh. I am in love with life.

It's in the water, it's where you came from.

I am grateful for the same thing every time my hands, pressed palms together in prayer, or my forehead touch the mat after all the namastes are said. No matter how I started my day, how much my practice made me want to hit things ( I know, not very yogic), how much my teacher helped me find wings to make my postures fly, I am grateful for one thing that encompasses so much of my life. My mat. While not overly attached to it's black rubbery-ness I am always thankful for what it gives me. It is my constant, my rock, when ever I need anything my mat, my practice gives it to me. For that I am daily and eternally thankful.

Next on my list I am thankful for all my friends and family. They put up with SO much. I have a running joke with my parents that I will be moving to Nelson with them to enjoy retirement in my mid-twenties. They initially thought is was funny and endearing, then mildly annoying. Now they fear the worst. A perpetual and eccentric house guest. I am grateful for my 'old' friends who stand by me in every test. They have seen me victorious at flip-cup and celebrated as they rescued me from my own celebrations. They have put coffee in my belly and gas in my car when the dolla dolla bills weren't flowing. My dear friends have let me cry on their shoulders when boys have gone and listened with eagerness false or true when boys arrived in my life. I wouldn't have made it, or had nearly so much adventure and exuberance without them.

These days I am carefully grateful for new friends. I say carefully because I feel our relationships haven't quite solidified and, like the first ice of fall, I don't want to tread to recklessly or firmly for fear of putting a crack in our newly formed friendships. This  morning I woke up to 1 follower. Good news as I was sure I was the only one reading this. I was brought almost to tears that someone, someone who I had only met once, took the 2-5 minutes of their day to check out what was skipping my heartbeats today. Lady, you know who are. Your beautiful words, pictures and smile capture my soul.

So all in all an amazing thanksgiving. My words aren't flowing quite as eloquently this evening as the turkey, red wine and hot bath I enjoyed earlier are lulling me into submission so good night. Hope you are enjoying being thankful for all the things lighting you up this time of year.

Coming Home.

Nostalgia is rare in the busy and fast pasted race our society idealizes as life. Time to reflect on the past is counter intuitive to the futuristic drive that pushes us all forward at a screaming pace. This weekend has been different for me.

I have often been criticized for taking too much time, being too thoughtful, reflecting on where I came from instead of focusing on where I am going. I understand that both are important though drag my heels when told to hurry up, simply because I am stubborn and enjoy the angst it can cause to the hurriers around me. Sorry.

This morning, while following the directions given by a dear friend to find her car (left as collateral for the fun she and I would have downtown), I also found my childhood home. I had not laid eyes on the house numbered 1113 since I was 6 years old. While yellow shag carpet on the stairs is gone and most of the corner lot, once an entire universe to me, was filled with stuccoed, grandiose,  modernity I was brought back to the time and place where I learned to ride my red bike without training wheels down that road, almost blinded by the brightness of the sun as I sped on with the wind in my hair. I vividly remember listening to my grandmother reminisce about her own childhood as I played in the grass while she swung in her hammock over head. As I drove back towards downtown I passed my first school, remembering just the corner (NE) where my 6 year old self and her best friend promised to marry each other when they were older because, of course, boys were icky.

These days, being at that age when everything seems like a forward push to figure out 'where we're going' and 'who we're going to be' remembering exactly where I came from was such a humbling and inspiring gift. Today I am going on, blinded by the sun and high on the wind in my hair.

The Revolution Starts in a Sea of Paper Cups...

I always associate fall with the change. To me, new years is not a cold and drunken celebration (though I do enjoy that as well) but the time of the year when leaves morph to golden, red, dust coloured. Fall has always been the time where my feet get itchiest and my heart tugs at the reins, wanting new, wanting change, springing forward... ironically.

To me fall is also the time of decent and finality. Summer ends, the air gets colder (though this year in calgary it seems as though summer and fall have switched places, in terms of temperature), people change, people leave, people are pushed away. This has been the biggest thing for me today, as though a leak sprung in a dam that I was trying to hold together with gum and a steady finger. One drop got out, then a few more and one more and suddenly all is crumbling around me, flooding my eyes and ears, my thought process, my ability to thoroughly enjoy Katie Perry songs. At first it was scary and now I feel as though I am in a bubble, safe and calm but watching it all come down. Maybe not perfectly calm. Something pulls me to collect the drops, make sure they are too safe and at peace and replace back where they came from. Let's be honest here. We all know how fruitless that is.

On an upward spiral, my heart skipped a beat. Today I played yoga in the green green grassy lawn of a church (no, they weren't happy but I am pretty sure some greater power was!). To feel the warm sun on my back, an all too uncommon thing these days, and my hands in the dirt and perfectly manicured lawn was pure bliss. Sigh.  This is also a key manifestation of the newness of fall. New inspiration comes with old, new people become dear to me. New doors bigger than Alice found are opening faster than I can drink potions or eat cake.

Like they say, the revolution starts in a sea of paper cups. viva la revolution!

Heart Skipped A Beat...

I have been afraid to do this for as long as I can remember. Sharing things that matter shakes me core, as I can imagine it does most people. I am not going to lie. I have started writing this first post 3 times over the summer trying to find the words to start.

Here they are:

Heart Skipped A Beat.

You know that feeling?

When no matter what is going on, what is pulling the rug out from under me, what is keeping my dreams alive, my heart skips and I know that there is something greater than  myself. (No, I am not talking about our western conception of God, though for some that is that heart skipping feeling) I am taking about those things that move you and I, make us believe that maybe life is NOT empty and meaningless.

Hopefully sharing them will elevate all my days. And maybe yours too.