Winning in the west.

Out West, I have family. Quite a few family members. Mainly from my dad’s side of the family.

They live in beautiful states with tall trees, mountains, lakes, rivers, and oceans. These relatives have lived there for many, many years. Originally they are from the Midwest – born and raised. I have fond memories with them here – in the Midwest – at grandma’s house.

When two of these cousins grew up, they chose to move West to raise their kids. Kids who are not so young anymore. Kids who were born when I was just a kid. Kids who are on the brink of adulthood. Kids who just won the West.

My two cousins, er, their daughters, just swam in a big meet. A State meet. And they did a phenomenal job. They relayed and raced, butterflied and breast-stroked. And the only reason I know this is because of social media. Because of our connections via the world wide web; connections that melt away the miles between us.

I haven’t seen these girls in years. I haven’t watched them swim (well, that’s not completely true. I’ve seen videos of them swimming posted on facebook).

Even though I haven’t watched them swim, it doesn’t mean that I’m not proud. Proud of their accomplishments. Proud to call them my little cousins.

Though we are not close geographically, or in age, that doesn’t matter. Because they are still family. My family. And family, my family, supports one another. We don’t care about distance and days between visits. We just care about each other.

I hope to venture out west sometime soon to see these great girls, their moms (my cousins), brothers, and my aunts and uncles.

But in the meantime, I’ll just brag about them from the Midwest by telling you how my little cousins keep on winning in the west.

 

 

Instagram infatuation.

Remember when…

You had to buy film?
You could only take 24 photos before changing the roll?
You had to wait 24 hours before you could see if your photos turned out?
You exposed film and lost your precious memories?
You could say “Kodak moment” and people knew what you meant?
You had to mail pictures via snail mail?

I remember those days.

And sometimes, for fleeting seconds, I miss those days.

But then. I punch a super-secret code into my phone and ta-da – I
am in someone else’s world.

With one touch, I am viewing photos from around the world or staring at an image I have viewed up close and personal. These foreign and familiar objects pull me away from wherever I’m standing and for an instant, I allow myself to take in the beauty that some complete stranger captured with their camera phone.

The images shared by amateurs and professionals are breathtakingly beautiful and downright odd. Photos of people and food, shoes and hands, sunsets and trees. It’s all their. For the world to see, your take on the people and places you love.

And this form of photo sharing excites me. Not because I have, or even want, a million followers; rather, I want to open my eyes to what other people see. I want to experience places I’ll probably never visit and bask in their light and beauty for just one moment.

Back when I used film, I didn’t know what I was missing. But now, with Instagram, I know that the world is big, round, and full of beauty everywhere you bring your phone.

@mnmeditations if you want to follow me on Instagram.

Go fish in Ontario…or anywhere

“Go fish in Ontario.“

A common tag line, albeit unoriginal, that I have heard on TV a number of times. Desensitized to such commercials, the one for traveling to No. Dak. is just white noise, it took me a while before I actually listened to the Ontario fishing commercial.

When I finally heard it, I realized that I had fallen for the commercial. Hook, line, and sinker.

You see, it’s not so much that I want to fish in Ontario; I just want to fish.

On open water. In the cool of morning, at the beginning of June. With nothing but a boat and a buddy, a rod and a reel, a tackle box and a tan (that comes in around mid July).

Whether in Canada or Minnesota, I just want to fish.

I want to feel the cool of morning. To dip my hand into the water just a few short days after the ice goes out. The breeze in my face, biting and bold, causing my eyes to water and my nose to feel cool to the touch on the tip. Rocked by the boat as it finds its rhythm in the waves. The weight of a light-weight pole in my hand, the line tugged by fish and aquatic vegetation. That rush of adrenaline when a fish bites my line, trying to escape the sharp hook I craftily baited with worms or leeches (real, not fake). The pride of a catch big enough to brag about. Satisfied with my patience. Thrilled with my skills, the skills I’ve learned and studied, practiced and perfected. The smell of fish clinging to my hands, reminding me of my hard work and success on the water; begging me to rinse and repeat the next day. Tying off a boat in the slip or driving it into a covered lift, killing the engine and wishing it didn’t have to end. I want to step off a boat at the end of a long, fish-filled day and feel like I’m still moving, as if the water were more natural than land.

More than that I want those minutes, hours, days of time to think and talk, listen and learn. Those quiet moments when all you hear is the water kissing the side of the boat, lines being cast, reels reeling, and fish tails slapping the water in a final attempt to break free. The view of water all around you. Tree lined shores with occasional beaches and lake properties, dotted with identifying docks and lifts. Tiny images of boats in the distance, carrying anglers or pulling playful kids and adults willing to get wet and daring to be wild.

Unless you’ve been in a fishing boat, a beat up Lund or a fancy Ranger, you might be confused.

And you might be wondering, why would anyone want to go out on a boat-in the rain or sun-just to catch bass or walleye? Well, for me, it’s more than just the actual sport of fishing.

It’s the therapy of the lake and the way in which a day out fishing can melt away whatever worries you’re worrying over. It’s the way in which time in a boat can sort out your confused thoughts and answer your deepest life questions. It’s the way in which your secrets stay safe and secure. It’s the way in which you discover who you are and who you want to be.

Can you see why? Why I want to “Go fish in Ontario“?

The first chance I get I’m jumping in a boat, hooded sweatshirt and all, possibly in Ontario, most likely not, and I’m going to fish for what it is I fish for. Not the actual fish. But the peace and clarity that a day out fishing, a full limit or empty-handed, is sure to bring me every single time I prep a tackle box and tie a fish knot.

“Go fish in Ontario.”

Summer camp guide

Summer Camp. The words alone conjure up many images for those of us fortunate to have attended a camp in our younger years.

Some remember the bugs and boys. Some remember the games and girls. Some remember the counselors and canoes. Some remember the food and friendships. Some remember the songs and silliness. Some remember the traditions and ticks.

Whatever you remember, whether good or bad, you remember summer camp. The anxiety you felt when your parents dropped you off. The relief you felt when you met your bunk mates. The hugs you shared at the end of the week with friends you’d only met days before at the archery range.

Summer camp.

In today’s world of Facebook and Twitter, it is even more important than ever that boys and girls sign up for life lessons, real life friendships, and time away from Nintendo DSI and iPhones.

So, I have for you my MN Meditations recommendation for summer camps. Completely different from each other. But incredible experiences for all who attend.

The first camp is more of a traditional camp feel with boats and beaches, archery, hayrides, and campfires. The staff is beyond incredible. Competent and friendly. They will open your eyes to the beauty of nature and the wonderful capabilities of every single human being.

Camp Confidence

The second camp I highly recommend is for any kid, boy or girl, ages 9-17 looking for a great week of hockey, friends, and faith. On-ice instructors, counselors, and guest speakers range from pros to parents, college kids to local coaches. All of whom spend their week at camp as volunteers who want to invest in young hockey player’s lives. They care about integrity on and off the ice.

The camps are located around the world. Of course, there are two Minnesota camps. St. Cloud is for boys. Minneapolis, U of M is for girls.

Hockey Ministries International

Whatever camp fits your kids’ needs, know that they are highly endorsed by MN Meditations. In fact, be sure to tell them that I recommended their camps. Who knows, I might see you there.

Happy Sumer camp planning!