tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43914008595274326902024-02-07T03:29:29.937-07:00chimney sweeperthe musings of a low paid, crud cleaning, dime a dozen human being who happens to love the view from a rooftop.C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-11505814076243919232013-07-18T11:14:00.001-06:002013-07-18T11:14:16.595-06:00Take the time and watch the whole thing - This is SO funny.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dVlaZfLlWQc" width="480"></iframe><br />
C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-15871157286713799862013-06-24T08:49:00.001-06:002013-06-24T08:54:45.918-06:00There's a realm above the trees where the lost are finally foundI love the lyrics to this song!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/tl96jI4WBgg" width="459"></iframe><br />C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-46275786288831856492013-06-09T12:14:00.001-06:002013-06-09T12:14:35.703-06:00A Mother's Hope<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/9ssHhzi7alI" width="480"></iframe><br />
C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-10047974536939835632013-05-22T12:14:00.003-06:002013-05-22T12:25:24.175-06:00<br />
<span style="color: #20124d; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">"Never let perfection be the enemy of good."</span><br />
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C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-73501642812619838762013-05-10T19:49:00.001-06:002013-05-10T19:49:30.765-06:00Mr T has the wisdom of a black buddhaI like to pull this video out and make the kids watch it whenever I'm feeling underappreciated. Happy Mothers Day all!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RO6JiFztJdg" width="420"></iframe><br />
C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-20822339069508850692013-05-02T13:56:00.000-06:002013-05-02T14:06:28.383-06:00See? People who eat at McDonalds aren't so bad.Driving through the McDonalds drive thru one day I decided to pay for the car behind me. When I told the lady at the window that I wanted to do that she asked "Do you know those guys or is it just to be nice?" I said "Just to be nice." She smiled and nodded then said "You know, every time I work the window there are usually about two people a shift who do that."
I was really surprised - that's a lot, don't you think? I love that there are people in my area who are doing things like that just to be nice. Whenever I perform a random act of kindness I feel great doing it because there is something a little special about giving to someone who will never pay you back and never has done anything nice to you before. When you offer help to people you know there does seem to be a bit of a friendship bank account that both parties try to balance. But when helping a stranger, someone you will likely never see again - you are throwing your love out into the unknown as an act of faith and maybe as a declaration that we are all connected and when one benefits, we all benefit. It feels great to open your heart up to the universe and ask "May I take your order please?"
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wskG18saKk0" width="560"></iframe>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-53202643456630544602013-04-29T23:02:00.003-06:002013-04-29T23:12:27.614-06:00A Mother & her child<h1>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Kindness story from:</span> </span><a href="http://www.randomactsofkindness.org/kindness-stories/1416-a-mother-her-child"><span style="font-size: small;">http://www.randomactsofkindness.org/kindness-stories/1416-a-mother-her-child</span></a></h1>
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/karen2silver/8110345345/" title="daisyclsup by Karen Lynne Klink, on Flickr"><img alt="daisyclsup" height="459" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8045/8110345345_4c6fee3eb6.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/karen2silver/8110345345/"><span style="color: #999999; font-size: x-small;">http://www.flickr.com/photos/karen2silver/8110345345/</span></a><br />
<br />
Many years ago I worked in the city of Melbourne, I had just got off the train & was waiting to cross the road, It was winter,pouring rain & freezing cold, (I had a fur coat on that I had only just bought at a sale,)when I spotted a little girl & her mother, both had light dresses on & were sopping wet, I couldn't help myself, I took off the coat & gave it to the mother, she started crying & thanking me as she put it on & bundled her little girl inside the coat. I cried all the way to work thinking how lucky I was to be able to at least help out a little bit.C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-1503506423246438612013-04-26T10:15:00.002-06:002013-04-26T10:15:34.174-06:00your place in the family of thingsWild Geese, by Mary Oliver<br />
<br />
You do not have to be good.<br /> You do not have to walk on your knees<br /> For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.<br /> You only have to let the soft animal of your body<br /> love what it loves.<br /> Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.<br /> Meanwhile the world goes on.<br /> Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain<br /> are moving across the landscapes,<br /> over the prairies and the deep trees,<br /> the mountains and the rivers.<br /> Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,<br /> are heading home again.<br /> Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,<br /> the world offers itself to your imagination,<br /> calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –<br />over and over announcing your place<br /> in the family of things.C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-33683354371351616152013-04-16T15:15:00.002-06:002013-04-16T15:42:08.910-06:00Ways to make the winter a little warmerStory shared on the random acts of kindness website: <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bugalootwo/7640170962/" title="It's Snowing by Patti O'Shea, on Flickr"><img alt="It's Snowing" height="375" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8002/7640170962_454b031197.jpg" width="500" /></a>
<br />
<span style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="name" id="yui_3_7_3_3_1366146872676_1131"><span class="username">Photo by Patti O'Shea</span></span></span></span><br />
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One day, the entire city got nearly 3 feet of snow. Around 2PM before
i set off to work, I decided to shovel my driveway along with my
neighbours. I chose to do their driveway first cause it seemed like a
harder task. After 1 hour of shovelling, I finished their driveway.
Right as I was about to start mine, I got a call from my boss asking me
if I can come to work earlier because many people called-in sick. I
said OK and I walked to work with my driveway undone. After I got back
from work, I asked my dad if he finished the driveway himself, to which
he responded "The neighbours did it".<br />
<a href="http://www.randomactsofkindness.org/kindness-stories/1545-boomerang-effect">http://www.randomactsofkindness.org/kindness-stories/1545-boomerang-effect</a> C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-2672609672084034612013-04-14T19:33:00.001-06:002013-04-14T19:39:47.419-06:00Keep going, Utah!A friend of mine gave a talk in church today that was so so good. I wish I could put the whole thing on this blog but in the meantime have found a snippet she shared from a conference talk that I really loved. <br />
<br />
"Several
years ago, I had the opportunity to run the Boston Marathon. I had
trained hard and felt I was prepared, but at mile 20 there are hills.
The locals call the steepest and longest hill Heartbreak Hill. When I
reached that point, I was physically spent. The hill was long, and
because I was a novice, I allowed myself to do something no seasoned
runner ever does—I started to think negatively. This slowed my pace, so I
tried to think positively and visualize the finish line. But as I did
this, I suddenly realized that I was in a big city, there were thousands
of people lining the route, and I had not made any arrangements to
locate my husband at the end of the marathon. I felt lost and alone, and
I started to cry. I was wearing a big red T-shirt with the word <i>Utah</i>
printed on the front in big block letters. As the spectators saw that I
was crying, they would yell, “Keep going, Utah.” “Don’t cry, Utah.”
“You’re almost finished, Utah.” But I knew I wasn’t, and I was lost. I
also knew that even if I stopped running and dropped out of the race, I
would still be lost.
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<div class="">
Do
any of you ever feel like you’re running up Heartbreak Hill and that
even though there are people lining the route, you are alone? That’s how
I felt. So I did what every one of you would do—I began to pray right
there on that marathon route. I told Heavenly Father that I was alone
and that I was on a hill. I told Him that I was discouraged and afraid
and that I felt lost. I asked for help and strength to be steadfast and
to finish the race. As I continued to run, these words came into my
mind:</div>
<div class="figure">
<div class="stanza" id="">
<div class="line" id="">
<i>Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,</i>
</div>
<div class="line" id="">
<i>For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.</i>
</div>
<div class="line" id="">
<i>I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,</i>
</div>
<div class="line" id="">
<i>Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.</i>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="">
That
sweet answer to my prayer gave me the strength to continue on until I
crossed the finish line. And despite my fears, my husband was right
there and all was well.</div>
<div class="">
That
day I experienced more than a marathon. I learned some important
lessons. First of all, never wear a big red shirt with the word <i>Utah</i>
printed on it. Second, I learned that no matter how well prepared you
think you are, there are hills on the course.<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="background-color: #d9ead3;"><b> I learned that people
cheering for you along the way are absolutely essential. I learned again
that day that we are never alone.</b></span></span>"</div>
<div class="">
-Elaine Dalton, Conference Talk, April 2008<br />
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This made me think about the people in my life that I could be a better cheerleader for. So for anyone reading this blog and thinking about giving up or quitting something that is important I'm sayin' to you: Keep going Utah! (or wherever you're from) Don't cry Utah! You're almost finished, Utah! Maybe I'm sayin' that to me too. </div>
C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-66850722984071555452013-04-12T12:05:00.001-06:002013-04-12T12:07:26.121-06:00The Muffin Men<i><span style="font-size: large;">"The world is so crazy and if people were more kind, it would be a little easier to live in."</span></i><br />
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<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/U7mtS5fd1E8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-64722147324766010772013-04-11T15:50:00.001-06:002013-04-11T15:57:14.990-06:00Love LettersThis is so worth watching - warms my heart and makes me think of one of my best friends who loves to write love letters to those she loves. I think we all have special gifts that we can use to reach out to others. I guess right now I'm trying to find my thing after about two years of not really wanting to reach out to anyone. this video has definitely inspired me.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/videoseries?list=PL4f_hRdQDT4ZsNcWLRrxrUayqCQ8lXnPx" width="425"></iframe>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-34369170686071771492013-04-09T08:12:00.000-06:002013-04-09T12:32:29.401-06:00How to be kind when crankyI'm asking, actually. I woke up cranky and am not sure what kindness effort to exert today. Perhaps just not yelling at anyone would be a good act of kindness for me today. Baby steps indeed.<br />
<br />
That heart on her t-shirt makes me laugh.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/janetboyer/7696321770/" title="Angry Redneck by JanetBoyerWrites, on Flickr"><img alt="Angry Redneck" height="484" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8149/7696321770_f96c14b42f.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Angry Redneck by JanetBoyerWrites</span></i>
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<br />C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-91671222188484587732013-04-08T11:24:00.001-06:002013-04-08T18:05:00.667-06:00Be kind anyway<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/melissa_bowersock/7693630278/" title="Cactus flower by Melissa Bowersock, on Flickr"><img alt="Cactus flower" height="472" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7277/7693630278_c0499e7908.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Cactus flower by Melissa Bowersock</span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">― Mother Teresa</span>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-12901029823236973392013-04-07T16:43:00.001-06:002013-04-07T16:48:06.259-06:00One of my favorite songsGive said the little stream<br />
Give oh give, give oh give<br />
Give said the little stream<br />
As it hurried down the hill<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I'm small I know but wherever I go the grass grows greener still</span></i><br />
<br />
Singing, singing all the day<br />
Give away, oh give away<br />
Singing, singing all the day<br />
Give, oh give away
.
.
.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OkfR78o3mVo" width="560"></iframe>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-11780085251878774892013-04-06T20:43:00.000-06:002013-04-08T08:12:41.447-06:00The RooftopThe past two years of my life have been pretty crazy. I went through a worse than difficult pregnancy, I was sleep deprived for a good 8 months after the birth and my older two boys have the energy and power of hurricanes. There have been mornings in the not so distant past that I have woken up yelling. Yeah, not in a great place. I was living in survival mode. But now, I'm feeling so much better, I'm sleeping through the night and I've figured out tricks to calm and manage hurricane season. Now, I think it's time to consider living like a human being again, you know looking a little bit more outward than inward if I can. I was just watching a CBC program about how we in Canada (it also included the US and the UK) seem to have ditched some common decency - manners, courtesy and respect. The program highlighted a movement in the UK called <a href="http://www.join-me.co.uk/">Join Me</a>. The movement encourages random acts of kindness and some people who have joined have committed to doing more things like buying a hungry looking stranger a sandwich, or giving a ten dollar bouquet of flowers to someone hanging out in the park. And now that I'm not in that self-centered living that new mothering brings, I thought maybe I should try some little efforts myself. I started today and ACTUALLY e-mailed someone back who had thanked guests in a group e-mail for coming to her son's birthday party. I wrote to her that Oliver had a blast and that he said it was the best birthday party he had ever been to. If I were her I would really love an e-mail like the one sent.....I almost didn't send it, that's how lazy I am. But I'm ok with baby steps. Don't judge, just love.C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-40223066175084333532013-03-29T13:18:00.001-06:002013-03-29T13:18:24.409-06:00If you are an aspiring writer, or actually an aspiring anything I highly recommend you read this <br />
very <a href="https://warriorwriters.wordpress.com/2013/03/29/successful-author-presence-do-you-have-it/#comment-64777">encouraging post by Kristen Lamb</a> (author of <strong><em>We Are Not Alone). </em></strong><br />
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She's funny, smart and has some great wisdom to share.<br />
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C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-3684163978739741542013-02-14T08:34:00.000-07:002013-02-14T08:46:56.340-07:00Love is in the airScene: Me in bed, Jord scrambling around trying to get ready for work. He has come into the bedroom and turned the lamp on beside my bed while he changed Ruby's diaper and then left without turning the light off. After a few minutes he returns.<br />
<br />
Jord: Char you have to get up, Oliver is doing a marathon poop in the bathroom and I think you'll have to drive him to school today.<br />
<br />
Me: Ok. Why did you leave the light on? I hate it - you always leave it on for me in the morning to make me get out of bed.<br />
<br />
Jord: I don't always do that I think I've done it twice.<br />
<br />
Me: Groan.<br />
<br />
Jord: Today's Valentine's Day, were you supposed to get Valentines day cards for Oliver?<br />
<br />
Me: I don't want to do that this year - there's a rule that you have to give one to everyone in the class if you're going to hand any out.<br />
<br />
Jord: Hmmm. (he comes over the the bed and pats my shoulder.) Well Happy Valentine's Day.<br />
<br />
Me: If you want to show your love for me turn that light off!<br />
<br />
Lamp: Click<br />
<br />
Nice. Very Romantic don't you think? When I was going through Military Basic Training someone told me that you are not responsible for anything you do up to a minute after being woken up. So if you woke up to your Sergeant yelling in your face and you pushed him away telling him to get lost - you'd be shown a bit of grace. I don't know how much and I don't know if that was actually just an old army legend but it seemed fair. Same rule applies in my marriage - Jord already knows that I have a certain amount of immunity first thing in the morning.C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-1585520507855075952013-01-12T10:03:00.002-07:002013-01-12T10:03:37.266-07:00Calling all mothers!!!<span class="userContent"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_50f196cd8d5999786140334">
I am writing a book on Motherhood and am looking for stories from mothers (within the next month ideally - sent to: charlamajeran at gmail dot com) <br /> <br /> This would be a space for women to share their experiences anonymously in order to be able to find true, honest accounts of women in the trenches of motherhood. If you feel you have a story to share please do. If you have friends who you think have a story to share could you tell them about this (I would be forever grateful). Hopefully mothers from all walks of life will be able to read these stories and feel connected to the sometimes disconnected army of mothers out there. I truly believe that our honest voices sharing the good, the bad and the ugly can be a solace and help to other women who sometimes have to struggle alone.<br /> <br /> I am looking for stories from the following two categories:<br /><span class="text_exposed_hide">...</span><span class="text_exposed_show"> <br /> 1) The worst and most difficult times of your mothering experience. I'm looking for tales of loneliness, isolation, bordom, anger, depression, financial struggles, difficult pregnancies/birth stories, the death of a child, single parenting. What has been the hardest part of being a mom for you?<br /> <br /> 2) The best of times of their mothering experience. I am looking for tales of happinesses found, fulfillment, growth, love, laughter, discovering the joy of motherhood, experiences of God guiding you in your efforts, miracles, angels attending. I would also appreciate tales of finding joy, comfort and support from other mothers/women in your life. <br /> <br /> please send stories to: charlamajeran at gmail dot com<br /> (a repost to women I am not able to reach would be greatly appreciated) Thanks to all!</span></div>
</span>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-16972707680753910922012-10-06T19:26:00.000-06:002012-10-06T19:26:10.562-06:00The Tree of Life<span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's after midnight, Jordan has already started softly snoring and my mind <var id="yiv1533797226yui-ie-cursor"></var>won't settle, it keeps playing images from The Tree of Life. As I was mulling over the many beautiful scenes and images Malick created, an article a friend once shared with me came to my mind. It was about how some language in poetry isn't necessarily meant to be disected and literally, logically understood but that a part of understanding poetry is feeling the vibe of the words chosen.</div>
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<i>1) Smooth soft pearls dance delicately along her warm skin.</i></div>
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<i>2) Cold diamond sparkles cut shards of light around the hard metal band.</i></div>
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Although the two sentences are both basically referring to a piece of jewelry, they have a different feeling - a different vibe.</div>
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With poetry and story telling, if you take away meaning, there is still something tangible left over - the taste that is left in your mouth after digesting them - be it bitter or sweet. Malick's film leaves me with a very sweet taste in my mouth and I don't know if I'll ever figure out the exact recipe of his most extrodinary dish - but delicious it was. And of course because it is past midnight and I'm in that state where you might give an extra laugh to something less funny, or extra thought to something less <span id="yiv1533797226misspell-4"><span>poignant...</span></span> </div>
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I wonder if Malick was maybe leaving out story to force us to experience the vibe, the essence - the soul of his message. </div>
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I've often thought that God remains a mystery to mankind on purpose. If God exists and He wants us to know Him and He has the power at any time to end this messy earthly debate over whether or not He <em>does</em> exist - why not just show up on the scene. Why not show Himself to mankind right now and be done with it? My personal belief is that if He did so, then we would all know Him in our minds, we would know the text, the narrative, the ending but I think so many then might miss His vibe, His essence - the soul of His message because they wouldn't need to use their hearts to try to understand and know Him. Is that what Malick was trying to achieve? Who knows. It's time for me to go to sleep.</div>
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C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-7879981604530067482012-07-31T16:47:00.000-06:002012-07-31T16:53:59.801-06:00Hey, are you hiding something under that bushel over there?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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“...simply moderate giftedness has been made worthless by the printing press and radio and television and satellites and all that. A moderately gifted person who would have been a community treasure a thousand years ago has to give up, has to go into some other line of work, since modern communications put him or her into daily competition with nothing but world's champions.... A moderately gifted person has to keep his or her gifts all bottled up until, in a manner of speaking, he or she gets drunk at a wedding and tap-dances on the coffee table like Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers. We have a name for him or her. We call him or her an "exhibitionist." How do we reward such an exhibitionist? We say to him or her the next morning, "Wow! Were you ever drunk last night!” <br />
― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2778055.Kurt_Vonnegut">Kurt Vonnegut</a>, <i><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/6582745">Bluebeard</a></i><br />
<br />C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-15153215222996538022012-07-26T12:26:00.000-06:002012-07-26T12:26:05.272-06:00For Art's Sake!!Remember that scene in Napolian Dynamite where Pedro gets so hot he decides he can't stand having hair anymore and shaves his head? Well, the other day (no I didn't shave my head) I felt the same way, not so much hot but just a strong hatred of feeling hair on my head (I <em>wanted</em> to shave my head). <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOahpHfm_SeRZ550xJe0Zv2ixjLRv6RBKyLJP3OqlYJD7o8ICLunLakwob_tNd4D9WQHiItRrNquKld6_a0d4HNGnOUP9OzaS7M8zVLf2RDCsfQVX06FbkaRZ6JcGoYLXcGPdcN1Eo8cU/s1600/pedro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsOahpHfm_SeRZ550xJe0Zv2ixjLRv6RBKyLJP3OqlYJD7o8ICLunLakwob_tNd4D9WQHiItRrNquKld6_a0d4HNGnOUP9OzaS7M8zVLf2RDCsfQVX06FbkaRZ6JcGoYLXcGPdcN1Eo8cU/s1600/pedro.jpg" /></a></div>
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Recounting this feels bizarre, I wonder has anyone else had that feeling? It's kinda crazy, kinda weird - would my accountant husband ever have that experience? I doubt it. Any weirdness that I am I have always dealt with by telling myself "Don't worry Char, you're just one of those weird creative types." Even though I have no one significant creation to date that I can truly boast about I think I just kind of live creatively. I make art for my wall, I love creating in my kitchen, I make up stories for my boys, make up songs to sing to my Ruby - I create everyday. In fact I view mothering as an art as well, certainly an act of creation. <br />
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I was just reading the blog post of an aspiring writer who was writing out her cognitive process for coming to terms with the fact that she may never be a published writer.....yet she writes on. I'm so glad she continues to write because I think it's so incredible to be able to live in a society affluent enough where there are some people who have the means and the time to work on something beautiful. I love artists who often work lovingly on a craft that never gets recognition or compensation. And even though I have someone coming over for lunch in 10 minutes and my hair is still wet from the shower and I still have some tidying up to do - even then I still choose to sit down and write out a blog post just because I wanted to. (Perhaps I'll read my guest a poem instead of doing my hair and maybe she'll appreciate me just the same.)C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-1561737980252080592012-05-31T00:31:00.001-06:002012-05-31T00:39:40.276-06:00I wanna hold your handScene: At the playground<br />
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Lady: "Hi"<br />
Me: "Hi"<br />
Lady: "You're boys seem to play so nicely, they are very nice to my son."<br />
Me: "Oh, I'm glad to hear that."<br />
Lady: "Mine is that one over there, the one with the rather large head."<br />
Me: "That's funny, I was just talking to my sister-in-law about how large my son's head is."<br />
(chat about large headed boys ensue)<br />
Me: "How old is your little baby?"<br />
Lady: "She's two months. How old is yours?"<br />
Me: "Two months."<br />
Lady: "She was born on April 2."<br />
Me: "Mine was born on April 2 as well."<br />
Lady: "Huh, what's her name."<br />
Me: "Ruby."<br />
Lady: "That's such a great name, we were going to name my oldest Ruby if he had been a girl."<br />
Me: "What did you name your baby?"<br />
Lady: "Finn."<br />
Me: "Wow, my sister named her little girl Finnlay......Gee, it's like we're cosmically connected."<br />
Lady: "Ya."<br />
Me: "Well, I need to go get my son ready for kindergarten. It was nice meeting you, I hope I run into you again sometime."<br />
Lady: "Yes, it was nice meeting you as well, I'm sure we will see you again soon, I'm at this park a lot."<br />
Me: "Bye."<br />
Lady: "Bye."<br />
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Things I have in common with this lady:<br />
1) a son with a big head.<br />
2) a daughter born on April 2 2012<br />
3) a love of the name Ruby<br />
4) the name Finn which is an indirect commonality as it links first to my sister but a link nonetheless.<br />
5) a need to visit the neighbourhood spraypark often.<br />
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That's it. That's my current idea of having a lot in common with someone. These commonalities have nothing to do with my philosophy on life, or my take on politics or a particular passion/hobby of mine - they all do however have something to do with the fact that I am a woman and a mother and she is a woman and a mother. I can't really think of a better reason to connect. I think women are supposed to connect, support, help, love each other....just because we are women.<br />
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I was watching Oliver play soccer the other day when suddenly the (rather intense and a little bit grumpy) coach barked "NO HOLDING HANDS ON THE SOCCER FIELD." The instruction was directed at two little girls on Oliver's team who were in fact holding hands in the middle of the game. Not the first time I've seen this - a few months ago during another one of Oliver's soccer games I witnessed two girls holding each others hands as they twirled around and around. Why weren't they fighting each other for the ball? Why were they more interested in connecting with each other rather than competing against each other? <br />
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I know women can be competitive and combative. Not all women hold hands and twirl around with each other - but maybe we should a lot more often than we do. <br />
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I want to say something complicated and am not sure how. I guess I'm thinking back to when women were fighting for equal rights and equal opportunities, it saddens me that women didn't then see their posts as wives and mothers as being equal. I am a stay at home mom and it is the most difficult job I've ever had and I guess I just don't understand what the women before me were thinking when they decided that instead of demanding the respect and honour that wives and mothers deserved they declared those roles as menial, beneath them - a lower class effort. When they talked about equality, they meant paychecks and promotions.<br />
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Sometimes I feel like 1950's rerun, a dinosaur at times. I just wish that instead of rushing into the workforce because women were unsatisfied with staying at home they just thought about what they could do collectively to improve their posts as mothers and come up with ideas as to how society could better support their efforts as mothers, respect their efforts as women. What if there could have been a whole different life for a woman that included education, babies, fulfillment, connectedness - that was less patterned after a man's way of life and more after a woman's natural tendencies and inclinations....towards holding hands and spinning around in a circle.<br />
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I don't know what I'm writing, it's after midnight, Ruby is sleeping on my chest as I type. I'm happy with my choices, just sometimes I wonder....C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-77440907975754693482012-05-10T18:01:00.001-06:002012-05-10T18:04:19.288-06:00Here's lookin' at you kid.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had a nightmare when I was about six months pregnant that I was trapped in a maze. The walls and ceiling of the maze were made of mirrors. I remember feeling so scared in my dream that I would be forever trapped in a maze where all I had to look at and consider was myself. I think that's what hell will be like. <br />
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The link below takes you to byu tv. The show featured is one of my favorite episodes in the Turning Point series. It features a few serious musicians in New York who volunteer at a local hospital by performing for the residents. Heart warming and definately inspiring. I highly recommend watching.<br />
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<a href="http://byutv.org/watch/34b05078-0568-4243-8a47-79932d954bb1/turning-point-musicians-on-call">http://byutv.org/watch/34b05078-0568-4243-8a47-79932d954bb1/turning-point-musicians-on-call</a>C.J. Schneiderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14505845165741421717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4391400859527432690.post-31522947574822753382012-04-28T17:13:00.000-06:002012-04-28T17:17:54.359-06:00I mother earthThe other day I took a good long look at my post pregnancy body - I was a little disheartened. I stared at my belly and thought hateful thoughts about it. Later that day I was talking to Oliver and out of no where he said "Mom, I like your belly. I like your belly because it can make babies."<br /><br />
I like Oliver's take on it better than mine. He's changed my mind about the whole thing. My belly has brought me so much happiness and joy. I think I like my belly too.<br />
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