Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Track 06: Praise You in this Storm - Casting Crowns
Things change in an instant.
In a second, in less time than it takes to take a breath in, lives change.
One word, two words, a paragraph, an essay, a novel...
Words change lives, regardless of how many or how few are felt. We feel words. Sometimes they're as light as a feather, sometimes they tickle us with joy, and sometimes they stab us directly in the soul. And the funny thing is, as powerful as words are, sometimes there's no words to mop up the bloody mess that they themselves left behind.
I wonder why it is we think we're indestructible.
The other day I was talking to a prof, and I was saying how I have lots of time to visit England and do various other things in my life. And I'm not saying I don't, I'm just wondering what makes me think I'm guaranteed that?
What makes us think we're assured a future?
I'm not being pessimistic, because I do believe we should prepare and make plans for ourselves. But sometimes you get smacked in the face with the reality that life doesn't plan itself around you. Rather, you need to make plans around life.
Sometimes I wish pain was transferrable, so that people could share it. It doesn't seem fair to let one person or one family have to carry so much. If we all shared it, maybe love would be more prominent, and maybe so many tears wouldn't be shed.
I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hands
You've never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I'll praise You in this storm
-Jillian
In a second, in less time than it takes to take a breath in, lives change.
One word, two words, a paragraph, an essay, a novel...
Words change lives, regardless of how many or how few are felt. We feel words. Sometimes they're as light as a feather, sometimes they tickle us with joy, and sometimes they stab us directly in the soul. And the funny thing is, as powerful as words are, sometimes there's no words to mop up the bloody mess that they themselves left behind.
I wonder why it is we think we're indestructible.
The other day I was talking to a prof, and I was saying how I have lots of time to visit England and do various other things in my life. And I'm not saying I don't, I'm just wondering what makes me think I'm guaranteed that?
What makes us think we're assured a future?
I'm not being pessimistic, because I do believe we should prepare and make plans for ourselves. But sometimes you get smacked in the face with the reality that life doesn't plan itself around you. Rather, you need to make plans around life.
Sometimes I wish pain was transferrable, so that people could share it. It doesn't seem fair to let one person or one family have to carry so much. If we all shared it, maybe love would be more prominent, and maybe so many tears wouldn't be shed.
I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hands
You've never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I'll praise You in this storm
-Jillian
Monday, November 27, 2006
Track 05: Seasons of Love - Rent
Are we content with complacency?
I've been thinking about this a lot recently. What does complacency mean? Dictionary.com defines it as "contented to a fault". Is there a part of us, as a society, that becomes lethargic with our situations after a while? Do we settle for less than what we're capable of?
My cousin is a wonderful singer. She's so great that it's hard to imagine that she was once better than she is now, but as with any instrument, a voice out of constant practice loses some of it's perfection. I was watching some Josh Groban videos online the other day, and there were so many duets with different female singers. And every one I heard, all I could think was that my cousin was more pleasant to hear and more moving to listen to than them. But she wasn't there singing with him. She's here in Newfoundland with two babies, a working husband, a house, a car, and family. She doesn't work now because of her children, but when she did it was nowhere near the music field. As far as I know, she has no plans to pursue her singing career.
So, I wonder...has she become complacent? Not that having a family and a car and working in an office is something to be discontent with. I just wonder if she ever thinks that she's become apathetic. Does she ever think she could have gone further with her music? Does she ever wonder what would have happened if she'd finished her degree and pursued a performing career? Does she ever think that she could have been the one standing onstage at the Oscars singing with Josh Groban? Does she ever think that she's "settled" for a different life because the alternative was scary and uncertain?
Do we become complacent because we're scared? Do we reach a plateau, a comfortable level that gives us a lifetime guarantee of mediocrity and give up? Does reaching a goal mean the end of all others? Are we being plagued by apathy: for our cities, for our countries, for ourselves? We always say we want better for our children or whoever is important in our lives, but do we really just wish for them to reach a state of comfortabilty that they can live with?
I think we're a terrified people.
I think we're scared that we can never really become "the best" at anything, so we settle. We accept a mediocre life because the only other option is wide open for failure. And uncertainty is never comfortable.
I challenge you to shed the uncomfortable. Branch out, reach for stars. Reach for goals that seem impossible.
Dare to fail.
Dare to break complacency.
-Jillian
I've been thinking about this a lot recently. What does complacency mean? Dictionary.com defines it as "contented to a fault". Is there a part of us, as a society, that becomes lethargic with our situations after a while? Do we settle for less than what we're capable of?
My cousin is a wonderful singer. She's so great that it's hard to imagine that she was once better than she is now, but as with any instrument, a voice out of constant practice loses some of it's perfection. I was watching some Josh Groban videos online the other day, and there were so many duets with different female singers. And every one I heard, all I could think was that my cousin was more pleasant to hear and more moving to listen to than them. But she wasn't there singing with him. She's here in Newfoundland with two babies, a working husband, a house, a car, and family. She doesn't work now because of her children, but when she did it was nowhere near the music field. As far as I know, she has no plans to pursue her singing career.
So, I wonder...has she become complacent? Not that having a family and a car and working in an office is something to be discontent with. I just wonder if she ever thinks that she's become apathetic. Does she ever think she could have gone further with her music? Does she ever wonder what would have happened if she'd finished her degree and pursued a performing career? Does she ever think that she could have been the one standing onstage at the Oscars singing with Josh Groban? Does she ever think that she's "settled" for a different life because the alternative was scary and uncertain?
Do we become complacent because we're scared? Do we reach a plateau, a comfortable level that gives us a lifetime guarantee of mediocrity and give up? Does reaching a goal mean the end of all others? Are we being plagued by apathy: for our cities, for our countries, for ourselves? We always say we want better for our children or whoever is important in our lives, but do we really just wish for them to reach a state of comfortabilty that they can live with?
I think we're a terrified people.
I think we're scared that we can never really become "the best" at anything, so we settle. We accept a mediocre life because the only other option is wide open for failure. And uncertainty is never comfortable.
I challenge you to shed the uncomfortable. Branch out, reach for stars. Reach for goals that seem impossible.
Dare to fail.
Dare to break complacency.
-Jillian
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Track 04: Butterfly - Rajaton
Of course I choose the time I am most stressed and busy to update. Of course.
I'm working on a 10 page paper. I currently have just over 3 pages written. I've decided to go with 8 pages, so that including my cover page my paper will be 10 whole pages long. I'm so evil, trying to beat the system...
The trouble is not, in fact, with the topic. I like the topic, and I think I have sufficient ideas. The problem is that it's 10 freaking pages long, and when I have a limit I feel too pressured to finish it that I rarely ever can. I'm doing ok, though. I've gotten half written in 6 hours, and I have six hours left to write the rest. Can do! I've also been temporarily distracted by fun things like the internet, cell phones, food, and, most importantly, people. So I think I've made significant progress.
Life?
Life.
Life goes well. Aside from this mass paper and the other three little papers I have left, things are going well. My exams should be fairly good, with the exception of Linguistics. I've got my courses aligned for next semester. I've been getting sufficent sleep, been going to the gym on a fairly regular basis, and have had plenty of enjoyable contact with people. Oh, and I get paid on friday. Good times.
I'm very medicore towards Christmas this year. I don't want to plan anything for fear of over-booking and then dumb things like work or sleep or general laziness getting in the way. I also just can't wait to rest. This semester has been jam-packed with events, so I'm excited to not have to do anything for 20 some-odd days. That'll be lovely.
Back to the paper, I suppose.
-Jillian
I'm working on a 10 page paper. I currently have just over 3 pages written. I've decided to go with 8 pages, so that including my cover page my paper will be 10 whole pages long. I'm so evil, trying to beat the system...
The trouble is not, in fact, with the topic. I like the topic, and I think I have sufficient ideas. The problem is that it's 10 freaking pages long, and when I have a limit I feel too pressured to finish it that I rarely ever can. I'm doing ok, though. I've gotten half written in 6 hours, and I have six hours left to write the rest. Can do! I've also been temporarily distracted by fun things like the internet, cell phones, food, and, most importantly, people. So I think I've made significant progress.
Life?
Life.
Life goes well. Aside from this mass paper and the other three little papers I have left, things are going well. My exams should be fairly good, with the exception of Linguistics. I've got my courses aligned for next semester. I've been getting sufficent sleep, been going to the gym on a fairly regular basis, and have had plenty of enjoyable contact with people. Oh, and I get paid on friday. Good times.
I'm very medicore towards Christmas this year. I don't want to plan anything for fear of over-booking and then dumb things like work or sleep or general laziness getting in the way. I also just can't wait to rest. This semester has been jam-packed with events, so I'm excited to not have to do anything for 20 some-odd days. That'll be lovely.
Back to the paper, I suppose.
-Jillian
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Track 03: You are Loved (Don't Give Up) - Josh Groban
Music: "You are Loved" - Josh Groban
Lyrics to Josh Groban's new song "You are Loved (Don't Give Up)". This song is so powerful and beautiful, I think it's more moving than "You Raise me Up". The link to the video & music is below.
http://www.joshgroban.com/music
Lyrics to Josh Groban's new song "You are Loved (Don't Give Up)". This song is so powerful and beautiful, I think it's more moving than "You Raise me Up". The link to the video & music is below.
http://www.joshgroban.com/music
You are Loved (Don't Give Up)
Don't give up
It's just the weight of the world
When your heart's heavy, I, I will lift it for you
Don't give up
Because you want to be heard
If silence keeps you, I, I will break it for you
Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can't hear you
Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up
Because you are loved
Don't give up
It's just the hurt that you hide
When you're lost inside, I, I'll be there to find you
Don't give up
Because you want to burn bright
If darkness finds you, I, I will shine to guide you
Everybody wants to be understood
Well I can't hear you
Everybody wants to be loved
Don't give up
Because you are loved
You are loved
Don't give up
Everyone needs to be heard
You are loved
-Jillian
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Track 02: Afterglow - INXS
I'm feeling very nostalgic today.
Grade 12 was such a great year. So many great friends, so many great times. There are a few things that really stand out in my mind of that year.
Jazz band
Mr. Carroll: "You can take beat three off"
Me: "Is that with vacation pay?"
I loved learning how to improv and everyone's reaction. I loved Anne and Melissa and the small glimpse that we got into their relationship. I loved Jazz band clinics at 8:30 Sunday morning, and the trips to Tim Hortons before and after. I loved making fun of the saxophones and their sea-gull squeaks. I loved driving Philip, Steve, and Tyler home almost every day, and hearing "that was a great turn" from the backseat. I loved Mr. Carroll. I loved the Christmas concert. I loved "Mr. Beat", even though I'd never admit it.
Grade 12 was such a great year. So many great friends, so many great times. There are a few things that really stand out in my mind of that year.
Jazz band
Man, how I loved Jazz band. I loved the people, the music, I even loved playing. I loved standing next to the rhythm section and getting in "trouble" for talking to Robert. I loved playing in Sobey's at Christmas, and doing the "tired-tango" with Tyler. I loved the trumpet section, and standing next to Amy. I loved Jazz band jokes that never got old.
Mr. Carroll: "You can take beat three off"
Me: "Is that with vacation pay?"
I loved learning how to improv and everyone's reaction. I loved Anne and Melissa and the small glimpse that we got into their relationship. I loved Jazz band clinics at 8:30 Sunday morning, and the trips to Tim Hortons before and after. I loved making fun of the saxophones and their sea-gull squeaks. I loved driving Philip, Steve, and Tyler home almost every day, and hearing "that was a great turn" from the backseat. I loved Mr. Carroll. I loved the Christmas concert. I loved "Mr. Beat", even though I'd never admit it.
Mostly, though, I love the memories being in Jazz band has given me.
The Class
The class. The Class. Nine people who were a part of my life almost every single day for six year. Six years! It seems so much longer than six years. The first day of school of grade seven: 20 people who had no idea who each other were, coming together to attempt to learn French when our little pubescent minds were certainly past the critical stage for learning a new language. So many memories...So, so many good memories.
The Curtis dance. "Holy Phoque!". Amanda and I getting in trouble every single day in grade 8 for talking, even though we weren't. Mlle Roy. Mlle Roy finding a note on my desk, taking it, photocopying it, and making me get mom to sign it. "Joe says I look like an angel!". Kink-kink. Mr. Ghaney and his broken foot. Mr. Ghaney's anger making him eat the health book. Mrs. Hicks and her franglais. Not speaking any French after grade 7. Les Acadiens. Sans Bon Sang. Economie Canadien pie chart (50% Walmart). Joe & Kayla & the class' relationship. Grade 9 grad and the after party. Eating blue cheese. "Mes amis, honnetment....". Grade 12 French class eating and crying. Hughes. Hughes and James. "Shut up, fatboy!". Marie Chapdelaine project. Ms. Wadman's fear that we would all fail Historie Mondial. Ms. Wadman's fear almost coming true. The class alternating doing the homework every night and copying the next day. Math friends. St Pierre: The horse, the boatride, James asking me out, Valentino, Morgan and Amanda, the big scary dog, chocolate pastries for breakfast. Cheating on tests from day one to the level three final.
Making some of the best friends I've ever had.
I think I'm done being nostalgic for today. But it was a great trip down memory lane.
I've had such a great life. :D
-Jillian
Friday, November 10, 2006
Track 01: My Generation - Starfield
I've done it. I've caved. I've started a blog.
I do not intend on telling anyone about this blog, however. Just because I don't want to be part of that crazy world of blog maddness. I just want to type my thoughts out, because sometimes they make more sense on paper than they do in my head.
I have a sore throat. I've had it for a couple of days, but yesterday the soreness peaked. I called my doctor's office and I can't get in to see her today because she's done at 12, and she's off on Monday "because it's a holiday".
I think that's remarkably stupid.
I know doctors need holidays, and I think they should take them. However, I do not think that an entire GP office should be closed on a holiday because doctors need a break. GPs work hard, I'm not disputing that fact. I am, however, disputing the fact that they chose to be a doctor, they chose a career that takes up a huge chunk of time. I'm sure that two GPs can work out holidays so that one is on, one is off. People still get sick on holidays. And I know "if it's an emergency you can go to the hospital", but who wants to wait in line for hours and hours just so a doctor can stick a popsicle stick down your throat for two seconds and tell you its a virus and to go home? Me! Me! I do, pick me!
And those are my thoughts for today.
Back to bed, I suppose, to sleep off this sickness so I can work my 6 hour shift until 12:30 tonight.
-Jillian
I do not intend on telling anyone about this blog, however. Just because I don't want to be part of that crazy world of blog maddness. I just want to type my thoughts out, because sometimes they make more sense on paper than they do in my head.
I have a sore throat. I've had it for a couple of days, but yesterday the soreness peaked. I called my doctor's office and I can't get in to see her today because she's done at 12, and she's off on Monday "because it's a holiday".
I think that's remarkably stupid.
I know doctors need holidays, and I think they should take them. However, I do not think that an entire GP office should be closed on a holiday because doctors need a break. GPs work hard, I'm not disputing that fact. I am, however, disputing the fact that they chose to be a doctor, they chose a career that takes up a huge chunk of time. I'm sure that two GPs can work out holidays so that one is on, one is off. People still get sick on holidays. And I know "if it's an emergency you can go to the hospital", but who wants to wait in line for hours and hours just so a doctor can stick a popsicle stick down your throat for two seconds and tell you its a virus and to go home? Me! Me! I do, pick me!
And those are my thoughts for today.
Back to bed, I suppose, to sleep off this sickness so I can work my 6 hour shift until 12:30 tonight.
-Jillian
