The little team that could....

It was July when the team started... made up of 11-14 year old girls, 6th, 7th and 8th graders.  The weather was warm with little rain and the practices started during the summer- the girls learning the basics of the game, running their legs off, learning the different positions and plays that make up the game of soccer.

The younger girls learned to quickly follow their elders around the field, and a sort of team leadership was formed.  It was a month or two before any games would be played, and the girls easily fell into the routine a few days a week, practicing on a mediocre field in a little town by the sea.  It was then that team Pacifica was born.

The days grew longer and summer ended.  School started and practices became 3 days a week, with the first game on a Saturday, and all other games to be played every Saturday through September-October.  These girls somehow found a balance between school work and other coinciding sports and their time spent on the grass, running drills and passing, practicing to make perfect.  While other teams might have called it quits due to the regular rain of the now fall season, not this team.  They didn't know the meaning of "rained out".  Practices took place as usual and there were many a mud-soaked girl by the time 6:30pm rolled around.  

The first couple of games were blessed with the appearance of sunshine as if it were a reward for their dedication.  But the rains came again, and one Saturday game in particular would resonate in the minds of those girls for the rest of the season.  It was pouring.  So much that kicking the ball would only lend it a few feet.  The water beads pelted their faces, and immersed the ground into a lake making the idea of running seem treacherous.  There were many injuries that day, one player being hurt enough that she wouldn't play again that season, though she still stood on the sidelines to support her team.  They still managed to win that game despite the awful conditions.  It would take more than rain to stop these girls.  This team was made up of more than players, it was made up of hearts.

They finished the regular season undefeated, earning themselves a place in the Recreational Cup in Vancouver.  The city.  This was the big time.  This is what they had worked for.  Practices became daily and the weather turned cold.  But they kept their eyes on the prize.  The Cup.

The games took place outdoors on the coldest weekend of the season (November 20 & 21) and probably the muddiest field in the area.  These girls covered head to toe in dirt by the time the first set of games were completed.  These weren't just girls anymore.  I think they became warriors.

The next day was the semi-final to determine who would play later for first and second place.  The weather became cruel, submerging the team in less than 40 degree weather, followed by.... snow.  Yes, snow.  As they fought for their place in the final game, they each gave a piece of themselves in sacrifice.  All of them in some kind of physical pain, be it from injuries on the field or due to the fact their hands and feet were so cold they became excruciatingly sore.  Just thinking about the courage of these young girls as they literally weathered the storm for their  place is inspiring.

They won and moved on to the final game...frozen and tired, but loving it and each other enough to try again.  While they didn't take home the first place title, these girls were first place champions, playing through the snow once more to finish in second place, and amazing all of us who have watched them from the very first practice.

There are those who are great athletes.  You might be the best mid-fielder or the fastest forward, maybe you are the star quarterback of the football team or the designated hitter on the baseball team.  Team Pacifica was made up of all of these kinds of talents... but the best part about them was they were a team.  They stuck it out together - through it all. 

When it comes to what really matters take a lesson from the "little soccer team that could" and you'll realize that being the best has little to do with skill and everything to do with heart.

With much love and dedication to the coaches for their time and effort -

To Team Pacifica for your heart -

To fellow team member and my daughter Abby- I couldn't be more proud of you.  You are amazing.  I'm inspired by you.♥

Remember what matters, my lovelies

T♥

I don't have to be happy all the time... right?

I was sitting here thinking about creating a new post.  I love writing and it makes me feel better if I'm having an off day... Today is one of those days...I don't feel particularly happy or sad... just kind of blah.  I thought "well, I don't have anything uplifting to write about"... and there it was.  I should write about exactly that!  Warning...this will make little sense.
I like to think that I see the best in people.  The up side of things.  The glass half full...all the time.  That simply just does not happen.  I'm human... flawed in all my glory...it's kind of exhausting to be upbeat all the time isn't it?  I'm so intuitive that when someone is feeling down, or has something on their mind, I can sense it.  I find myself accommodating that person before I even think about myself.  Then I wonder why I'm in a bad mood.  Turns out, it wasn't my mood to start with!  Super!
Have you ever been having a superb day, and then someone crosses your path and totally shuts it down?  What is wrong with people that when you ask them how they are they say something negative?  Maybe they are just being honest.  I mean, we did ask them....and they are just answering, right?
When we say "how are you?" do we really want to know?  I think that phrase is so over used.  There are times that I really mean it, and I DO want to know.  Then there are the times that I'm just making conversation, and I'm looking for "great and you?"... I'd even settle for "okay..."  
The word "love" is the only word I can think of that is more overused than that.  Everyone loves everything.  I love that color.  I love your sweater.  I love shoes. Then we wonder why we don't believe it when someone says "I love you".  Maybe because they just said... oh I don't know...let's say they said they "love cheese" and then they say they "love you" and you wonder if you are higher quality than cheese?  Maybe you are equal to cheese?  Better than cheddar?  Less than Swiss?
Today I will ponder exactly what kind of cheese I am.  What sandwich do I belong in?  Who is my bread and what kind?  The lettuce?  Who makes up the exact amount of mayo and mustard mixed together?  And please slice it diagonal, that is the only proper way....
*Sigh*...welcome to my world...chew on that.


Much "cheese" my lovelies~


T♥

Check your reflection

There is a man that I know.  He once had a vision to create housing for those who couldn't afford it. He took a risk and put everything he had into the project.  He was certain it is was for the greater good of everyone.  He lost almost everything along the way, but he kept at it and was finally successful.  He had accomplished decent, affordable housing for young families as well as a series of townhouses for those who were older.  It was a vision he had.  One that not many people know about.

He grew up on the Snake River in the summertime, working the farm with his grandparents and attending school where he lived in the neighboring city.  He had a tireless, work ethic instilled in him at a young age, a trait that would follow him wherever he went.  He had a strict and equally hard-working father, a domestic goddess of a mother who provided dinner to the minute every evening and a fun-loving, bubbly sister who provided much excitement to him and his parents on many occasions.  I truly think he was part of some of that excitement, but if you ask him, you will get a smirk and sideways comment to keep you guessing.

He worked throughout his life, first at financial institutions and then finally settling in to a management job for another company.  As the years went by he had ideas of more and eventually started a land development company and two others on top of that.

He's known for being stubborn and maybe a little loud at times.  He has the ability to command a room with his presence and the intellect to turn a small spark into a large flame.  He had a guarded way about him for many years, but when his first grandchild was born something changed and the defenses weakened.  He has a love for the now teenage grandson and two granddaughters that is not measurable by simple standards.  It's recognized by the daughter that was estranged as a child, always feeling a bit inadequate, as an actual facet of his pride and affection for her.

When he designed and established the development projects, he then also took residence in one of them.  He and his family moved from their country home (which he of course designed and helped build) and made the venture to "town".  Though not the maintenance manager he quickly became the "go-to guy".  He was always there to fix things that were broken, repair things that were damaged, plow the snow in the winter or whatever it was that his neighbors needed.  He did all this without compensation, simply because he had the capability to help them and because it was the right thing to do for others...

My dad and I may have had a hard time as I was growing up.  Now as an adult, when I take a  moment to look at him as a person and not just my dad, I understand.  No matter what has happened and how I may have felt then, my dad is probably the least selfish person I know.  I am someone who puts others first, I always want to help them, I have a deep compassion for them.  My grandma (my dad's mom) would tell me all the time "it's a curse AND a blessing dear".  I know that I got some of these traits from my mom.  Those of you who know her, absolutely love her..(Mrs. Landin!!!)  But in really thinking about it, it's my dad also that would go out of his way, all the time to help other people that either can't themselves (in ALL WAYS) or frankly just didn't know how to start.  I saw this constantly when I was a kid and still see it today.  

I always wanted to have a close relationship with my dad.  I was always jealous of those girls who were so close to their fathers...I'm elated to say that now as an adult, I have realized what a good man my dad is, what an amazing grandfather he is and that one of the characteristics that I'm blessed with, the blessing of helping others, came from him.

I would hope that anyone reading this blog would think about it and take it to heart.  Do you think about other people at all?  Are you so wrapped up in yourself and your own agenda that you can't see past yourself?  When someone you love is having a hard time, is it about them or you?  When someone has helped you, do you thank them?  When they ask for something in return to you think about what they need or what you need?

I'm not saying forget about yourself.  It's so true that we need to take time out for ourselves and take care of ourselves.  So many times, we tend to put our requirements on the back burner until everyone else is sated.  I tend to be altruistic.  That can be painful sometimes, because I can't expect everyone to be that way.  Sometimes, people are guarded for whatever reasons, and that is perfectly fine with me.

But there is a difference between being guarded and being selfish.  Someone who is guarded isn't purposely inconsiderate.  Just like being selfish is never pretty.  

To those of you I'm talking to, who forgot about everyone else in your journey:  Take a moment and check your reflection.

With warm regard and dedication to my dad -

T♥

Tis the Season

What is it about this time of year?  Somehow, it has the ability to create an overtone to the days and weeks that lead up to Christmas... you find yourself immersed in the beauty of everything.  There's that familiar feeling in your stomach that tells you it's close.  The crisp fall air in your nose, the leaves changing color as if someone came by and painted over the green they once were with gold, amber and red.  When I look out the window I'm amazed at all of these creations.  I often wonder what thought process went into making all of it.  When God decided to create, say trees for instance, obviously for their oxygen purposes, but then the beauty that went along with it.  How they tower over you, and seem to know things.  Some of them turning bright with the autumn and seeming to sleep the winter away, their leaves on the ground.  The powerful way that a fir tree can ascend to more than 100 feet with ease, teasing a climber to go ahead and dare his way to the top, all the while keeping watch through the cold months, the true keeper of the forest.
The air moves from crisp to frozen, turning the ground to stone.  Snow comes next falling quietly over the meadows and roads.  If you listen closely, you can hear it gently meet the ground, the sound slightly scolding as if to say "shhhhhhh".  When it falls at night, you'll see the reflection of the street lamps on the flakes as they follow the stream of light down.  The moon meets it there and the snow replies as if to say it's settling in to stay awhile.
I love going home for Christmas...if I'm lucky it will snow while I'm there.  It's nostalgia.  If you could bottle it, you could sell it easily.  I really think this is what most people are looking for as they start their yearly routines.  They are chasing their childhood or trying to create a better one for their children.  Stringing lights and decorating the tree, the customary practices.  Baking cookies and bread, the accustomed fragrances of pine and apple cider.
It's not about presents, it's the feeling...I think this is what God really intended us to experience while also remembering the real meaning of the season.  Giving gifts to each other is just a metaphor for showing love...the way He shows love to us daily.  There is this awful commercial I saw on TV, and these shoes are talking and one is telling the other how awful of a friend she is because of the gift she got her.  While it's meant to be funny, it takes the commercialization of Christmas to a whole new level.  It kind of made me sad.  Sure, it's totally normal to laugh when you get that weird gift from your distant relative with all the cats (true story), but it's just rude to bash someone for it...such audacity to suggest that you deserve more. 
Don't forget to look outside your window and acknowledge the gifts we take for granted every day. 
What are your traditions?


Much Love
T♥ 

Everything Changes

Every so often I'll be posting lyrics that really get to me.  Like they might have been written just for me.  Ever feel like that?  Today's choice is Everything Changes, by Staind.  This is one of several beautifully written songs by this band.  This is one of those songs that is kind of part of me, especially.  I suppose, music is my therapy. I heard it in Fred Meyer of all places the other day... so random, and I've been thinking about sharing it ever since.  I've posted the link to the acoustic version of the song on my Facebook.  
It seems appropriate to post the lyrics to songs that are "part of me" - because I truly believe it's the only way to really get to know me.  I love all genres from Classical to Christian to Metal.  I think it's in my DNA.  I play the piano.  I write my own songs and lyrics too.  Maybe when I get a little braver, I'll share those too.     
I hope you find comfort in these or other lyrics I may post in the future.  At times, it might be just one line of a song that changes you.  Other times, it's the entire thing, instruments and all. 
For me, music can draw my true feelings out and help me deal with emotions I might be feeling, whether good or bad.  Try it.  Let your true feelings surface and see what happens.  You will be better for it.


Everything Changes


If you just walked away
What could I really say?
Would it matter anyway?
Would it change how you feel?

I am the mess you chose
The closet you cannot close
The devil in you, i suppose
'Cause the wounds never heal

But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel

Sometimes the things I say
In moments of disarray
Succumbing to the games we play
To make sure that it's real

But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel

When it's just me and you
Who knows what we could do
If we can just make it through
The toughest part of the day

But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could
Learn how to feel
Then we could
Stay here together
And we could
Conquer the world
If we could
Say that forever
Is more than just a word

If you just walked away
What could I really say?
And would it matter anyway?
It wouldn't change how you feel