Have you been asked the question "Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?" It is very probable that you have, just as much as I have been asked that. I was driving down this beautiful, windy road and contemplating on life (I tend to do that when I am amongst beautiful scenery.) That question popped up in my head. Here are my thoughts:
When can I stop answering that question, and actually have some of those things I want to see happen within those ten years happen? Let me explain. 10 years ago, I would be fifteen. I am quite sure I was asked that question at some point in my fifteenth year of life. What I might have said then, I am pretty sure is not what I am doing now, ten years later. Does that mean I am a failure or that I was very inaccurate in what my hopes and dreams were. Possibly a mixture of both. Or my direction that I am going now is on a better track than what my fifteen year old self could think of at that time. I am still unsure as to what option to pick for what I am doing now. Even now, when I am asked that question, I still say a lot of the same things I said when I was fifteen, with some added points, as I have learned more about myself and my gifts. But there are some primary points to my list that have not changed. These points have not changed and I am no where near having those accomplished. Basically, I am not married and therefore not starting a family at this point in my life. I did not picture that 10 years ago. I at least pictured myself moving towards those things by now. Apparently I am a snail in the way of life and some things will not come to me as quickly as I had expected.
I am accomplishing a lot and finding new things about myself and what I enjoy doing. Playing and teaching piano is really becoming a big joy in my life, and am very excited to have students and to be able to inspire them with the love of music. I do not know where I will be 10 years from now, but I sure hope it will not look the same as it does now. Not that the present is bad, it is just definately not where I want to be 10 years from now, and I know I have some new things added to my list for the next 10 years.
The way I list things is not put in an order of importance.
1) No more loans from school
2) Overseas (Europe or Asia)
3)Married
4)Children
5)Music and Art a part of my life in ministry or business (both)
Mittwoch, 29. September 2010
Montag, 13. September 2010
Can I be a child again?
Have you had one of those days where you think back on the day, and imagine what your day would have actually been like if you were a child again? The day could have been like this:
Mom or Dad comes in and wakes you up, and you eat yummy home made french toast, and then you and your siblings ride bikes to school (I am basing this in Japan, since that was my lovely childhood). Then you go to school and play with your friends and learn. Eat a yummy lunch made from mom from leftovers from dinner before. School is over and you rush back home to eat the afternoon snack mom has prepared and practice piano and play with your siblings. Sitting around the dinner table with your family, having the lovely conversations and insights from family members. Laughing at Dad's jokes and hearing about each others days. Helping clean up dinner and possibly watching the one English show on TV or going on an evening stroll around the neighborhood. Going grocery shopping as a family, biking, playing games, singing as a family. Going to our family's friends to hang out with. (All these things would be options, not all these can happen in one day). That sounds like a much better day then the day I had today.
No one should rush their children out of childhood. Ever. I am glad I wasn't rushed, but it still went fast. But I know I wanted to grow up at times, stop being treated as a child. So it is a bittersweet idea of being a child again. When I have children, I want them to enjoy being a child and using their imagination as best they can. Children should look their age, not look like they are five years older. I wonder if children growing up at faster rates, but not seeing the maturity level when they reach adulthood, has something to do with growing up faster then need be. I have been finding that there are a lot of rough obstacles adults have to go through, and it makes it more hard to enjoy the simple things of life, and dance to a music beat, and sing a happy song, and skip along the sidewalk. But those are some days, but then there are other days that are better, and where you really can be your inner child. I will wait and enjoy those days. The rough days is what makes me want to go back to being a child. I did not think that things would change when I was a child. But they gradually did. I did not get a sudden lightning bolt of change, and boom: everything's changed. It just happened, small and big changes, coming at you in various degrees. It may not have been apparent while growing up, but when you look back you realize the change.
Here's a thought of a very minor change: I remember playing on McDonald's playground growing up. Well I did not think, oh I am now too old and too big to be allowed to play on the playground at McDonald's. I never thought about it, but there was a time and age when I stopped doing that. I would not be able to tell you the day and time I stopped. But it did end. That's a very minor change, but it is a change. There are many other changes, but I will not bore you with all of them. You could write an example of a change from childhood to growing up in your own life.
Mom or Dad comes in and wakes you up, and you eat yummy home made french toast, and then you and your siblings ride bikes to school (I am basing this in Japan, since that was my lovely childhood). Then you go to school and play with your friends and learn. Eat a yummy lunch made from mom from leftovers from dinner before. School is over and you rush back home to eat the afternoon snack mom has prepared and practice piano and play with your siblings. Sitting around the dinner table with your family, having the lovely conversations and insights from family members. Laughing at Dad's jokes and hearing about each others days. Helping clean up dinner and possibly watching the one English show on TV or going on an evening stroll around the neighborhood. Going grocery shopping as a family, biking, playing games, singing as a family. Going to our family's friends to hang out with. (All these things would be options, not all these can happen in one day). That sounds like a much better day then the day I had today.
No one should rush their children out of childhood. Ever. I am glad I wasn't rushed, but it still went fast. But I know I wanted to grow up at times, stop being treated as a child. So it is a bittersweet idea of being a child again. When I have children, I want them to enjoy being a child and using their imagination as best they can. Children should look their age, not look like they are five years older. I wonder if children growing up at faster rates, but not seeing the maturity level when they reach adulthood, has something to do with growing up faster then need be. I have been finding that there are a lot of rough obstacles adults have to go through, and it makes it more hard to enjoy the simple things of life, and dance to a music beat, and sing a happy song, and skip along the sidewalk. But those are some days, but then there are other days that are better, and where you really can be your inner child. I will wait and enjoy those days. The rough days is what makes me want to go back to being a child. I did not think that things would change when I was a child. But they gradually did. I did not get a sudden lightning bolt of change, and boom: everything's changed. It just happened, small and big changes, coming at you in various degrees. It may not have been apparent while growing up, but when you look back you realize the change.
Here's a thought of a very minor change: I remember playing on McDonald's playground growing up. Well I did not think, oh I am now too old and too big to be allowed to play on the playground at McDonald's. I never thought about it, but there was a time and age when I stopped doing that. I would not be able to tell you the day and time I stopped. But it did end. That's a very minor change, but it is a change. There are many other changes, but I will not bore you with all of them. You could write an example of a change from childhood to growing up in your own life.
Donnerstag, 9. September 2010
Living without Restraint
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_EyI4p0yjDQ
Watching this music video, I think of these older generation, finally living with "no restraints". Could it be that they had grown up with so many restraints, expectations, pressures that this is their act of "rebellion" against what the world expects of them. I would like to think so. I say this because being boxed in can be a prison in itself. Be yourself, be what God has called you to be, and don't be otherwise. It takes up to much precious time. I just find that the message of this video is to live, be yourself and not to let your age govern who you are to be.
I also like how this video shows the young of heart in everybody! I definately want to be young at heart when I get to be that age. There is a time to be serious and a time to laugh. I hope that the times of laughter come up more in my life then the serious.
Watching this music video, I think of these older generation, finally living with "no restraints". Could it be that they had grown up with so many restraints, expectations, pressures that this is their act of "rebellion" against what the world expects of them. I would like to think so. I say this because being boxed in can be a prison in itself. Be yourself, be what God has called you to be, and don't be otherwise. It takes up to much precious time. I just find that the message of this video is to live, be yourself and not to let your age govern who you are to be.
I also like how this video shows the young of heart in everybody! I definately want to be young at heart when I get to be that age. There is a time to be serious and a time to laugh. I hope that the times of laughter come up more in my life then the serious.
Samstag, 4. September 2010
The Intrigues of Houses
The long awaited blog on houses I had promised to put fourth after my previous blog about road trips.
Going on car rides, sitting in the passenger seats, looking out the window, besides looking at nature I enjoy looking at houses. The most fascinating houses I love to find are those that are old and worn down by stories, history and a whole lot of weather. I look at those and wonder what was the history of it, what went on behind those walls, what type of families lived there. Were they happy and content with their home or was their life a sad, hard life. I do not know why this fascinates me to think and wonder about but it definately kept me entertained on car rides.
New houses also intrigue me. I want to know how the house looks on the inside, how it was designed, what does a family do with such a big house or not so big of a house. Are those that have these huge mansions truly happy? I have to watch myself to not get dreamy about houses and wanting to own a house one day. I really do not think I want to own a house until I am settled in the country I am to live in. Owning a house may never happen for me and that is fine with me. I have lived like that my whole life, moving around, being in many different houses all around the world. It seems to give more travelling opportunities.
Of the many different houses we lived in around the world, my favorite house to have lived in, even though it was for a short time, was the farmhouse in Switzerland, set up on a hill with mountains as our backyard. A stream was across the road and down a field of flowers for my sisters and I to play in. It was a big, Swiss brown farmhouse that a family rented out to missionaries that would come back from the mission field. We lived amongst farmers and would have cows, goats, sheep, dogs, cats, horses all around us. We also had a barn, but it was not in use as we were not farmers and neither were the other missionaries who had lived there prior to us. We had a really nice room that had a big loft and it was our playroom. I remember I had my own room, because whenever we were on furlough I would request to have my own room, because my elementary years spent in Japan, I would always have to share a room with my little sister (which was fine, there are many fond memories from sharing a room, but I do have to admit, we did not always get along). So on furlough years, my older sister would room with my little sister. We had a really big back yard that was fenced in by an old wooden fence as well as a huge field that no farmers used, so we would run around in that field. We were there in the spring and summer and so it would not get dark till after 10pm, meaning that we were able to play outside for a long time after dinner.
We owned two rabbits that we named Daimond and Jewel while we were there, and I think my sisters and I decided that we did not care for having rabbits anymore after that. We had these two sparrows that we named Freddie and Francine, that would every morning around the same time come down to our door and knock at the door with their beaks, if we had not already put out our bread crumbs for them to eat. In Switzerland you eat lots of bread, jams, honey for breakfast and for our evening meals, it would be the same except adding some meat to it. Lunch was the big meal of the day. I enjoyed that schedule of eating very much.
A house that filled me with many fond memories of those days. Those were the carefree days of my childhood. We were "homeschooled", and many days when it was "recess" time I would wander off down the road, passing farms and just enjoying the nature around me, forgetting that I was to return to do school work. One day I was walking along and a field of goats had some new born kids (baby goats). They were so cute and I started feeding them grass from the other side of the fence. They got excited, and since they were so small (probably a day old) they got under the fence and onto the road. I managed to push one back onto the other side of the fence but the other one wandered down the road. So I thought of how to pick up a goat. I thought of pictures of Jesus carrying lambs. And so I attempted to do that. I did not have the goat behind my head, but I did manage to carry it and put it back to the other side of the fence. We made friends with a nearby farmer, and his family let us come and milk the goats and learn about the farm. We also only had a 20 minute walk to a castle, so we would take many evening walks to there. There were these two families that were cousins that lived across the road from eachother. The story is that two sisters married two brothers (and either the two sisters or two brothers were from or lived in Canada). We would play with their children a lot. Since we did not speak a lot of german and they did not speak English we spoke what we knew, especially the words "Want to play hide and go seek tag?" We had a lot of fun playing with them and they had this awesome Bernese Mountain Dog named Bathseba who would follow us home all the time. She was the dog that made me fall in love with that breed.
Every spring the farmers take their calves and move them up to the high mountains, to help the cows build durability and strength. They actually asked us to come with them. It would be this really long hike up to the mountains herding the calves. My sisters and I were really excited and really wanted to go, but for some reason we thought it was going to be on a tuesday, and our parents took us on a day trip on the monday before the hike. When we returned at night, we saw all this cow dung on the ground and knew they had already hiked the calves up the mountains. Needless to say we were very dissapointed that we missed out on such an amazing opportunity. It was a great location to live in, and even though it was for a short time it was filled with many great memories and showed our family the idea of what it would have been like to live in Switzerland as a family.
I get carried away thinking of stories. I went off on a tangent. It is amazing how one house can bring up many memories and stories. You should see how much a home of yours brings up memories to your mind. Write a memory of a house that comes to your mind! I would love to hear about them.
Going on car rides, sitting in the passenger seats, looking out the window, besides looking at nature I enjoy looking at houses. The most fascinating houses I love to find are those that are old and worn down by stories, history and a whole lot of weather. I look at those and wonder what was the history of it, what went on behind those walls, what type of families lived there. Were they happy and content with their home or was their life a sad, hard life. I do not know why this fascinates me to think and wonder about but it definately kept me entertained on car rides.
New houses also intrigue me. I want to know how the house looks on the inside, how it was designed, what does a family do with such a big house or not so big of a house. Are those that have these huge mansions truly happy? I have to watch myself to not get dreamy about houses and wanting to own a house one day. I really do not think I want to own a house until I am settled in the country I am to live in. Owning a house may never happen for me and that is fine with me. I have lived like that my whole life, moving around, being in many different houses all around the world. It seems to give more travelling opportunities.
Of the many different houses we lived in around the world, my favorite house to have lived in, even though it was for a short time, was the farmhouse in Switzerland, set up on a hill with mountains as our backyard. A stream was across the road and down a field of flowers for my sisters and I to play in. It was a big, Swiss brown farmhouse that a family rented out to missionaries that would come back from the mission field. We lived amongst farmers and would have cows, goats, sheep, dogs, cats, horses all around us. We also had a barn, but it was not in use as we were not farmers and neither were the other missionaries who had lived there prior to us. We had a really nice room that had a big loft and it was our playroom. I remember I had my own room, because whenever we were on furlough I would request to have my own room, because my elementary years spent in Japan, I would always have to share a room with my little sister (which was fine, there are many fond memories from sharing a room, but I do have to admit, we did not always get along). So on furlough years, my older sister would room with my little sister. We had a really big back yard that was fenced in by an old wooden fence as well as a huge field that no farmers used, so we would run around in that field. We were there in the spring and summer and so it would not get dark till after 10pm, meaning that we were able to play outside for a long time after dinner.
We owned two rabbits that we named Daimond and Jewel while we were there, and I think my sisters and I decided that we did not care for having rabbits anymore after that. We had these two sparrows that we named Freddie and Francine, that would every morning around the same time come down to our door and knock at the door with their beaks, if we had not already put out our bread crumbs for them to eat. In Switzerland you eat lots of bread, jams, honey for breakfast and for our evening meals, it would be the same except adding some meat to it. Lunch was the big meal of the day. I enjoyed that schedule of eating very much.
A house that filled me with many fond memories of those days. Those were the carefree days of my childhood. We were "homeschooled", and many days when it was "recess" time I would wander off down the road, passing farms and just enjoying the nature around me, forgetting that I was to return to do school work. One day I was walking along and a field of goats had some new born kids (baby goats). They were so cute and I started feeding them grass from the other side of the fence. They got excited, and since they were so small (probably a day old) they got under the fence and onto the road. I managed to push one back onto the other side of the fence but the other one wandered down the road. So I thought of how to pick up a goat. I thought of pictures of Jesus carrying lambs. And so I attempted to do that. I did not have the goat behind my head, but I did manage to carry it and put it back to the other side of the fence. We made friends with a nearby farmer, and his family let us come and milk the goats and learn about the farm. We also only had a 20 minute walk to a castle, so we would take many evening walks to there. There were these two families that were cousins that lived across the road from eachother. The story is that two sisters married two brothers (and either the two sisters or two brothers were from or lived in Canada). We would play with their children a lot. Since we did not speak a lot of german and they did not speak English we spoke what we knew, especially the words "Want to play hide and go seek tag?" We had a lot of fun playing with them and they had this awesome Bernese Mountain Dog named Bathseba who would follow us home all the time. She was the dog that made me fall in love with that breed.
Every spring the farmers take their calves and move them up to the high mountains, to help the cows build durability and strength. They actually asked us to come with them. It would be this really long hike up to the mountains herding the calves. My sisters and I were really excited and really wanted to go, but for some reason we thought it was going to be on a tuesday, and our parents took us on a day trip on the monday before the hike. When we returned at night, we saw all this cow dung on the ground and knew they had already hiked the calves up the mountains. Needless to say we were very dissapointed that we missed out on such an amazing opportunity. It was a great location to live in, and even though it was for a short time it was filled with many great memories and showed our family the idea of what it would have been like to live in Switzerland as a family.
I get carried away thinking of stories. I went off on a tangent. It is amazing how one house can bring up many memories and stories. You should see how much a home of yours brings up memories to your mind. Write a memory of a house that comes to your mind! I would love to hear about them.
Abonnieren
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