Everyone is on a ride of their lives. You ride round and round, life outside doesn't matter...its all a blurr compared to the joy you feel in that moment. Life is flying by, and all you care about is holding on, exchanging smiles and capturing eyes. Maybe your ride is over, the ride ends and you join the crowd. Only to wander around and envy those who are still on it...sitting, waiting, wishing for someone to give you a ticket again.Then, before you know it, when you least expect it, he comes along. There you are again, flying high and feeling like nothing else matters.

Round and round, the merry go round of love.
Ups and downs, highs and lows, fast and slow.
Please hold on, never let me go.
 

One day, I will find true love.

There is a group of friends that come in every Saturday to Starbucks to sit and visit and have coffee. The unique thing about this group, is that each one of them has some kind of mental or physical disability, or both. I love it when they come in, for a number of reasons.
First, I love being able to cater to each one of their individual needs. There are two friends who are physically handicap and use a cane. They would never keep a steady enough hand to carry a coffee, so they need you to bring it to their table for them. There is another young lady who needs you to speak slowly and simply so she can understand how much money she owes you. There is a blind man who needs help finding his Mastercard in his wallet (faster for you to find it that him feeling the numbers on the cards with his fingers) and you need to put his cream and sugar in as he has no idea how much he's pouring in. One is in a wheelchair and so the wheelchair accessible table needs to be available for him. They have taken quite a liking to me, because if another barista is serving them and isn't able to see these needs or is not comfortable, I instruct them on how to best serve them.
Second, being around disabled people is always so refreshing for me. Especially the blind man, because he constantly makes jokes about being blind. Like today for example, it was snowing outside. He said "man this coffee sure tastes even better with cold weather like this" and then said "well, atleast I can't see what it looks like out there!". I laughed really hard. As he was leaving a girl said "it was nice to see you again" and he said "well, I can't really say the same!" and laughed. I looked around today thinking about what it would be like to be blind, having no idea what the world looks like. A smile, a sunrise, a piece of art. Here are people who have lives that are entirely limited by their disabilities, and are able to live life the best they know how.
I look up to this group of friends, and I am encouraged by their ability to find joy in all life's circumstances.

Over the last few weeks, I've spent many hours at the kitchen table with my niece and nephew coloring Thomas The Train and covering blank pages with foam stickers. There is just something I love about watching what a young mind will do with a blank page and markers in hand. A fridge covered in young masterpieces is an awesome sight.

Coloring brings me back to the beginning. One of my earliest memories in life is standing on some newspaper with an apron on in the kitchen, using those puck-like paints on an easel my mom set up for me. It was in fact, what I wanted to be when I grew up...an artist, so I could paint and color all day. My mom always set up crafts and we had a whole coloring bag that we'd bring to church when there was no sunday school. I'd sit quietly in the pews at Southview Alliance Church coloring away.

We can't forget Mr.Sketch markers. My favorite thing about starting school was my brand new pack of smelly Mr.Sketch markers that I got to bring to school. I could sniff the red one for hours! I once experienced a very brown bath and unhappy mother after I colored my entire body with them.
When I was 16, right after I found out my oldest brother had passed away, all I could think to do was sit in my room and color. I was numb and didn't want to think. I remember sitting against my bed on the floor with plain paper and a pack of Mr.Sketch markers and drawing the word "HELP" with intricate colors around it.

Today as a digital artist, I still find coloring and painting such a fun thing to do. I picked up a paint-by-number at Wal-Mart last week and finished the entire thing in 4 days and gave it to my grandma. There was something just so peaceful about sitting at the kitchen table, painting and mixing colors.

Coloring reminds me of being a child...when life was simple and quiet.

She couldn't of said it any better:

"A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her." —Maya Angelou 

I gotta find peace of mind. Pick up the pieces that were scattered, shattered. The mess that keeps me up at night, the mess that turns my stomach into a knot. Running after so many things, only to stop and walk, and realize. Walk away.
Scars that serve as reminders of mistakes made, lessons learned. You know who you are, look inside your heart, and remember. Seek out the wisdom which guides you back. No more confusion, no more standing on unsettled ground.

Back to you, it always comes around.

A flash, a memory, it stops you in your tracks. You feel, you see. You forgot, but for some reason, its here again. The reaction is sometimes a smile, or sometimes a heavy load on your heart. I wish I could go back and re-live, or I can't believe I got through that. Evoked from a reminder, a familiar feeling, a longing. Flash...its there...and with a distraction...its forgotten...for now.




This is one of my most peaceful moments in my life that I can remember. I was sitting on the deck a tall-ship called the Pacific Swift, watching the sun set, along the Georgia Strait of BC.