How to Recognize Connection – Learning to See Depth

Depth is not something that everyone easily sees or consciously recognizes, but we all notice when it is there.

We also notice when it is NOT.

In my spare time I take pictures.  I come by the hobby honestly; my mother is Japanese (“Ooooh, taykoo peecktcha?”) and there are no less than twenty cameras at every family function no matter how many people show up.  In addition, my dad has always fostered a passion for photography.  Between the two of them, I grew up with a lens in my face most of the time.

I got my first SLR camera when I was 25.  It was a Christmas gift from my dad.  I “SQUEEE”d when I unwrapped the gift, opened the box immediately, and I never looked back.  I loved that thing.  It shot film, though, and after the first roll came back from the store I realized “WOW, I have a lot of learning to do.”  The pictures weren’t BAD, they were just “….meh.”  Uneventful, uninspiring.  They were pictures of events and the SURFACE of life, but no more than that.  A person could look through my photos and say “Oh yeah, I remember that, I forgot that guy was there, what was I thinking wearing that shirt?” but that’s about it.  My pictures did not tell a story, they did not inspire.
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How to Be a Mother – Raising Kids the Right Way

In the last few years I’ve done a lot of thinking about being a mother.  It’s probably what I think about MOST, actually, since having kids.  My thoughts fluctuate equally between “Am I doing a good job,” “How much am I going to screw them up by doing-not-doing this-or-that,” and “where’s the instruction manual because REALLY I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL I AM DOING.”

Being a mom is…   well, it’s rough.  And wonderful, and amazing.  And brutal.  And rewarding and miserable and fulfilling and draining and pure bliss.  It’s the only thing I’ve experienced in life that can leave me feeling as full as a hot air balloon, weightless with love, and AT THE SAME TIME as twisted and wrung out as an old, holey and shredded dishtowel.  From the second you conceive until FOREVER your life is no longer your own.  It becomes something totally different.  Something MORE.  Every day your guts feel like they gorged on a party snack mix of puberty mood swing hormones and Sominex and double-frosted kid’s birthday cake seasoned with a hearty dash of crazy and sprinkled with very loud noises.

The best way I can describe it is to imagine that you have a cute, fuzzy, warm, cuddly monkey sitting on your shoulder, playing with your ear, whispering to you and loving you.  On your back.  All the time.
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