Some blues for ya
just what i suspected.
“For all the bad that seems to plague us, I swear to you there’s good.”...
Muslim Men participating in the Men’s Rally Against Domestic Violence in...
Running strolling down corridors
Security camera clips that make the news usually show bad things, but Coke decided to “look at the world a little differently” in this heartwarming viral video. They found security camera footage from around the world showing happy moments: people stealing kisses instead of possessions, dealing potato chips instead of drugs, and offering car assistance rather than road rage. [x]
The friendship one tho.
Luv this
(via loveyourchaos)
I thought of the many reasons why I should stay in bed. They were plentiful. I was almost there when I thought of Winston’s quote and how this moment was most probably one of those instances where courage could push me toward better health, or laziness could swing me around and into the danger zone of the Black Hole. I could vegetate the whole day and no one might notice, but by tomorrow I could very well be crying.
So I sat down at the computer and slogged through a piece about stress with half of a brain. Although I preferred to order a pizza for lunch and finish it off with some mint-chocolate chip ice cream, I ate a salad with the right kind of nuts for an Omega-3 blast. And I finally mounted the stationary bike after my neurotransmitters whispered in my ear that they’d hang out with me all afternoon if I listened to the soundtrack of Rocky while I peddled.
I stumbled all day long, walking toward better health with the grace of a kid wearing leg braces. Each decision was harder than the one before it. And I never stopped wanting to give up. To give in just this one time, and do the bad brain things: sleep, wolf down simple carbohydrates, stay sedentary, and let my brain atrophy. Alas, I came to the end of the day with some successes, and I realized that it’s definitely not the noteworthy achievements that should be celebrated if you are, like me, impaired by bad brain chemistry.
It’s the days where you choose over and over again to get well, even though the other side is beckoning you to sleep in, eat pizza and ice cream, skip the exercise, and blow off work. Churchill was right. The heights of great people aren’t reached in spectacular leaps or sudden flight. They take place in the mundane decisions on rainy days, when no one but the one fighting has a clue about the war of wills taking place, of the battle being fought in the name of health.
„On Discipline and the Small Battles - Beyond Blue
I love how Therese Borchard puts this…
(via strengthandlace)(via wellthatsjustgreat)
Typewriter Series #333 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text below, in case it’s too tiny for your eyeballs :)
“There are a few things that only time
can teach you and only through experience will you remember.
The first and most haunting of these is that the day will come
that you will break. Break like glass and scatter yourselves
out over the floor with no particular rhyme
and certainly no reason. Pieces of you will fall off
that you never knew were there and never bothered to dwell upon.
On this day, All I know how to say is that you must hold on
tightly to the hope that you, beautiful and broken you,
were made of pieces that broke evenly. Clean breaks
and sharp edges so that there will always remain the distinct
possibility that someone, someone more than you, will remember
the picture you used to paint, the vase you used to be that held
the water that kept the flowers of your soul alive.
Hold on to the hope that they are coming and they
are the glue strong enough to erase the seams of your most
misfortunate fall, because you will fall.
I see so many frantically trying to number their pieces;
Categorize and organize and prepare themselves
for the break that is waiting for us all. Do not be these
people and do not fall into this trap because I know a secret
that not even time or experience have learned yet…
We are already broken and we have always been shattered.
If we see ourselves as the shining and scattered portions
of a whole and then glance inward, we will become overwhelmed
with the breath-stealing realization that this day,
and every day between now and the day we become the
fragments again is a gift we’ve never had to open.
You are broken, you will break.
You are the pieces,
but you’ll always be the whole.
Steal back the secret and marvel
and let your jaw meet the floor in perfect awe
at the pieces, the wonderful pieces
that are gracing the ground
they fell upon.”
Photo: A woman and her child at the maternity unit in MSF’s hospital in Nasir. The basket is the traditional way for Nuer mothers to carry their children. South Sudan 2012 © Brendan Bannon
Different Kinds of Happy
Emma Pedley is a British nurse working on community outreach projects with Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) in Nasir, South Sudan. Read her MSF Field Blog here.Before I know it it’s 5:00 pm and as I start to wearily gather all my things together into the Land Cruiser one of the consultants trots up to me to remind me about the baby still in the stabilization room.
What baby? There have been dozens.
The one you wanted to pass water. Oh, that baby.
Not one but three hours have flown by since I first saw that child.
As we rattle back over the uneven roads to the hospital I’m panicking internally and right now, with the tight band of headache pressing round my skull, I feel like I’m not thinking straight and my mind heads straight for worst-case scenarios. What if that kid does have concurrent malaria? Diagnostically the quick Parachecks aren’t 100 percent infallible, but at MSF the microscopy blood films are … What if this drowsiness isn’t just from dehydration, but from low blood sugars? What if the mother was right—what if that child really hasn’t passed urine all night as well as all morning as well as all afternoon? What if he really didn’t take any of that rehydration solution? What if I’d taken the other option and sent him straight to the ER? What if, what if, what if … ? Despite my training and qualifications I feel so, so unprepared for parts of this job sometimes—not so much professionally, but experientially, emotionally … unprepared for the heat … my heart feels leaden inside me and I’m barely holding back tears as I berate myself.
We arrive at the compound and pull up outside the Emergency Room. Running around to the back of the Land Cruiser, I take the sleeping child from his mother’s arms to carry him into the ER. As I unwind the blanket, the child rouses and starts crying—a weak, fitful cry that health care workers know and dread—the cry of a child with scant energy reserves left to cry with.
The crying pauses … I pause … the startled black eyes below unblinkingly regard the worried brown ones above. A few heartbeats and a few hundred years pass … and suddenly the little man in my arms is crying—and I mean proper crying—a lusty, full-lunged bawling with all the might and main he can muster, and I feel like I’ve never heard a more beautiful sound in my life, because any child that can cry that hard is OK, not 100 percent OK, but OK nonetheless. My heart feels like it’s going to burst with relief. And then there is a sudden warmth spreading across my lap and I jump up startled, still cradling the now half-naked yelling baby, watching the dampness seep across his trousers and mine and it’s OK. He’s passing urine, lots of urine—fantastic, amazing, brilliant amounts of wonderful urine that I’ve scared out of him that tell me that the kidneys are working perfectly, and the urine is streaming down my arms and legs and puddling at my feet and the baby is crying and the mother is clucking and fretting at the urine on me and I’m laughing because I’m so relieved, and I’m laughing so hard because who knew a crying baby peeing all down me could make me so, so happy? And then without knowing quite why I’m crying too and my heart is bursting wide open, and all the stress is pouring out and there are tears pouring down my cheeks and the urine is still pouring down my arms and they all mean the same thing—the baby is OK, I’m OK, everything is going to be OK.
amazing moments aren’t always picture perfect…
I think this actually the best thing that’s ever been on my dash
DID THAT ACTUALLY JUST FUCKGIN HAPPEN
He has become one
He is freefuCIM’M ACTUALLY CRYING HELPRDTJUYFIUIOKLF
SHIT
jesus
omg
I used to bail hay. Every summer.
can’t wait to see the video on ‘cow tipping’. ;)
Fun
(Source: ipartywithicarly)
Not that I was worried… Ok yeah I was. I was deeply afraid that this election would prove money could buy anything.
T.H. White
Honestly? This is one of the truest things I know in this life, a north star I navigate by, in both the good times and the bad. One of the only ways that always seems to work, at least for me, is to be ever learning. Endless fascination as a balm, boundless curiosity as a way out.
(via sometimesagreatnotion)This is my all time favorite book. I have a first addition with pictures drawn by White.
Ahahahahahahahaha. Sorry, had to.
(Source: wilwheaton)
(Source: kari-shma)
Sharing and storing scraps of my experiences, reflections and passions
