Tag Archive for my_life

Quick, Ariah, Say something Important!

I’ve made a few changes to Trying to Follow, as you can see. The new layout seems to be working well. Hopefully you like it (tell me if you don’t). I also haven’t been posting as much, my way of recognizing that you probably don’t have all the time in the world to read my writings.

I also fixed up my feed/subscription set up and consolidated things. To my shock I found that about 83 people are subscribed to my blog. That means by email, feed readers, etc. about 80 people check up on what I’m writing and posting each day. That doesn’t include the countless others that stumble across my site on a search for images on “tagging” (by far my most popular search referral). The numbers are quite overwhelming.

As far as podcasting goes, I’ve also made a change. In the constant struggle to find time and a consistent co-host for any sort of regularly scheduled broadcasting. Instead, I’ve started to do my own short little daily podcast, which I usually do by phone (sorry about the sound quality):
A Few Minutes with Ariah

I’ll still post a seperate podcast for Trying to Follow when I have longer more in depth audio with co-host and other folks. But for now, if you want to hear some daily thoughts with me, just subscribe to the one above. No more then ten minutes a day normally.

I also found from the little design survey (view results) that people search this site in all sorts of different ways. So, I’m trying to clean up my categories and tags to make browsing easier for you.

That’s about it for the update here. I haven’t had as much time to punch on the keys, but I have been doing the podcasting a bit, so here is the latest:

Ode to my mother

“I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
as long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.”

I’m not sure when my mom first started reading this book to me, but the words still bring tears to her eyes. Today is my mom’s birthday. This beautiful women who brought me into the world has spent close to half her life raising me. Words cannot express my gratitude and thankfulness I have for my parents, but I’ll try and say a few things to share what my mother has meant to me.

I used to chuckle sort of awkwardly whenever my mom would read a story to us that would make her cry (Love You Forever, Goodnight Moon, and The Giving Tree to name a few). I guess back then I didn’t understand the depth of love my mom had for me or what those tears meant. Now, I cry whenever I read those words (frequently sent at the end of an email or card from my mom). One thing my mom has taught me is that emotions are okay. I can’t imagine what it would have been like being raised with the warped idea that “real men don’t cry.” I think I would have a lot more bottled up anger and agression then I do. I can remember many different occassions, sitting in my room, in the kitchen, on the side of the road, crying, and my mom was there with me, to comfort me, to listen to me, to allow me to feel, to truly feel. Thank you for teaching me it’s okay to cry.

Occassionly, I’ve heard the question asked, “what’s the most memorable saying or value you remember from your childhood.” I’m usually surprised by how many people’s most memorable things are negative. For me, by far the most memorable value I remember, and still hear today is that I can do anything. This is a strong testimony to my mom’s enthusiasm and pride in her children. To this day, my mom believes I could be an Astronaut or a professional baseball player if I decided to start now. Nothing is impossible for the children of my mother. And the amazing thing is, when you grow up hearing that, you really believe it. I really have always felt in life that I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. I should point out, that this was never done in a way that made me feel dissappointed at failure, I never felt pressure that I would let my mom down if I didn’t win, or make good grades, or become famous.

You see my mom was there rooting for me every step of the way. Her patented cheer could be heard on the sidelines of my soccer games, karate matches, football, track, graduation, wedding, and even on the phone when I accomplish things here. And her enthusiasm is quite contagious to be honest. When the youth I work with brought home some outstanding grades, I couldn’t help but jump off the walls and cheer like my mom always has for me. You can’t help but feel good about the things your doing and the things you’ve done when she’s there cheering you along. And it’s not just her cheering that let’s you know she’s interested in you.

My mom loves people. Someone wrote me a kind note once about how I made them feel special, I get that from my mom. When you meet my mom, and let her have a few minutes in conversation with you, you’ll go away thinking she might have mistaken you for some TV celebrity. I’m not talking about getting your autograph and taking a picture with you, but my mom loves talking to people and hearing their stories. She’ll ask you questions all night long over dinner and you’ll realize your boring and mundane job is much more exciting then you realized (I should note that my dad also loves people, and asks lot’s of questions. Quite lucky, and sometimes greatly intimidated, is the person who joins us for dinner and faces the interrogation that is my parents. Very loved to be sure). And the truth is, the questions, the interest, the love, it doesn’t get old. Many afternoons during high school went like this. I’d come home off the bus and make myself a bowl of cereal or some ramen noodles. Mom would already be home or arrive shortly there after and we’d talk for hours, about the day, about life, about crazy ideas. Many evenings continued in similar fashion. Me usually sitting on the counter in the kitchen, chatting away late into the night. I can’t even begin to remember all the things we talked about for hours on end. The truth is I think I did most of the talking, my mom just sat listening excitedly, asking more questions and helping me grow and think in ways I probably didn’t ever consider before.

My mom is creative, and we have the people painted on the garage door to prove it. I think I was in seventh or eigth grade when my mom painted those dancing stick figures on our garage. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrased at first. It’s hard for a middle schooler to maintain his idea of coolness and conformity when someone was dropping him off at home. We have a sign in our house that I think reads, “A wacky wild wonderful woman lives here.” Looking back now I realize I had a much more exciting and colorful experience then many people. It’s as if most people grow up in black and white, and we grew up with full color blaring. My mom painted the walls all kinds of funky colors (before anyone else thought it was cool), we had palm trees in the basement, our mailbox, and even our toilet set was painted. My mom taught me to think outside the box, to ‘dare to be different’ (she even gave me a cool bookmark that said that). I know the creative energy that was always flowing through our house had a profound affect on me. It’s taught me to question authority, question conformity and the status quo, and those are all very good things. One of our family’s favorite books, The Giving Tree, really is about our family. My mom has taught me to love life, to live it to the full. This is no time to walk around worried about what other people think of you. Don’t just dream dreams, live them. Live your life in color.

Thank you Mom, I love you, Happy Birthday!

New Look and new features…

Thanks everyone for taking a minute and filling out the survey. If you haven’t I would really appreciate it if you could.
There will obviously be a few glitches along the way but I wanted to try something different, a little more friendly and readable. Let me know your thoughts. I’ll try and continue to make it as useful as possible, but I didn’t want all the clutter. Let me know if anything about it is distracting also.

One new thing I wanted to point out is that for a limited time I’ve been featuring some quotes on the sidebar (on the left) of the frontpage. The quotes are provided by my brother, Keane, which he posts on a xanga. I’d strongly encourage you to check them out here or subscribe to his blog so you can read them each day. Keane seems to find the most fascinating and awe-inspiring quotes around. You probably would do well to just read Keane’s quotes, rather then spending time reading lot’s of entire books.

Also, like I said I’m no longer posting the daily podcast as a blog post. If you want to get it daily you can come to the frontpage of the blog and listen there. Or you can subscribe or visit My Odeo Podcast. I hope you keep listening and let me know if we need a forum for discussion on the podcast posts. Right now I’ve started a “Why?” series on the podcast trying to discuss my own answers as to “Why” I do certain things, from where I choose to live, to what I eat, to why I ride that funky bike. Let me know if you have any other why questions for me.

More writing to come, I just need some motivation…

Daily Minutes moved to sidebar

The daily minutes have been fun to do, especially with Mindy by my side. However, doing them daily has caused me to neglect my writing, or rather replace it. I still want to try and post one podcast a day, but I will no longer be posting it as an entry on this blog.
That’s an important change for you email subscribers (most of you), if you want to hear the podcast you’ll need to stop by the blog and listen on the player on the sidebar. Hopefully you do, because I really enjoy the opportunity to share thoughts with you. The other change is that I’m going to try and stop doing them at night when we are tired. This means I might not have mindy with me in my future podcast. Hopefully that won’t be too traumatic for any of you and we’ll try and get her in more often then not.
I’ll probably be using the podcasting from my phone feature that the awesome folks at Evoca have available (and odeo is phasing out).

Be sure to subscribe to the podcast if you want to keep receiving notices of it:
My Odeo Podcast

10/10 - leaky washing machines


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