Contemplating Beauty With Gina

Tied Up In a Perfect Bow

2026-04-04T11:07:00.006-05:00

"Dying just happens. Life just happens. Just like the writers and controllers of the early formation of Christianity, who spun why Jesus died --“He had to for the forgiveness of sins, the sacrificial lamb, etc.”-- I, too, spun a Christian story and meaning into everything that happened in my life. All tied up in a perfect bow. But the fact remains that they killed Jesus because he was a religious radical—an incredible leader, teacher, and being who threatened their agenda." Gina Norman

It dawned on me this week that I'm not writing about Good Friday or Easter this year. I used to either give sermons on Good Friday or at least have a perfect way to showcase what Easter weekend meant, but not this year. And this reminded me of what someone very dear to me recently said,

"Gina, you used to be such a beautiful Christian writer; the way you wrote about Jesus would bring me to tears."

Something along those lines, anyway. My heart sank. Deep. And this isn't the first time I've heard variations of this same sentiment. I've had others unfriend me on Facebook, telling me I was once a picture-perfect Christian woman of faith and a mentor to them. My heart sank again, learning of this.

I felt responsible for how these women felt, so I'd have thoughts like, "I am crushed that I've disappointed all these women, what must they think of me?" "If I'm not a woman of faith, then where does that leave me?"

The reality is that I haven't been able to write "as well" since I left Christianity. Coming from a Christian perspective, it was hella easy to let the words flow. Even though the subjects I'd write about would be vastly different, they'd all have a similar ending, tied up in a perfect, meaningful Christian bow. Done and done!

Well, that is not how I write anymore. I don't believe in a lot of what I used to believe in, and now I'm in a place where there isn't a "firm foundation," and I don't have an answer for every good thing or every bad thing that happens. But I used to! Like I said, the topics I wrote about varied, but the endings all had a pretty bow tied on them. The endings were very similar. The endings were simple. They weren't messy. The subject might be messy, but if you're a Christian writer or reader, you know, the ending is tied up perfectly. Because.....Jesus.......

For instance, if I were sick, I'd look for the meaning in it as to why God would have me be sick. And when I got better, it was all glory to God. If I were flying, and I'm a nervous flyer, and I'd get to my destination safely, I would praise God. If my nerves calmed mid-flight, I would also praise God. On deeper subjects, when my best friend died over ten years ago, I made a lot of meaning out of why her death happened, when it happened, and that it was all constructed and went down the way it did because, no other than.....God. God orchestrated her death for a very good reason. It must be because of ___________________fill in the blank. And then I'd feel better. Or when my daughter stayed living out in California after I moved back to Minnesota a few years ago. I made myself feel better by saying it was because we needed to learn to live a part because we never had, and that God wanted that for us. Now, looking back, that idea makes me sick. I would just "apply God's truth" to everything. But I had a lot of my own thoughts, emotions, and ideas about these hard things! Working out these hard truths for ourselves is important because we need to feel and wrestle with them, and come up with our own soothing. We need to find our own way out of the pain without trying to concoct a story about it through the lens of Jesus. I believe we miss out on a lot of genuine thoughts and feelings, bypassing the most important parts of ourselves by doing that.

Another example, more recent, is when my Dad passed away a year ago. Had I been a Christian then, I would have made all the timing, the way his death went down, why it happened, and how it happened all about God, just like my best friend's death. Here is how it would shake out for me:

I should go to my Dad's and spend time with him until he passes because that is love, that is the kind of love that comes from the cross
I'm sure my Dad dying over ten days was because God wanted us to have this time with him
I know we kids and our step-mom were all there when he took his last breath because God wanted us to be with him. God wouldn't have wanted my dad to pass without all of us
God gave me the strength to show up day after day after day for my Dad
There is meaning in my Dad's death. I know he's in a better place
I can trust God that this all happened the way it did for my good, praise Him

But now, I don't believe any of that. I did not wrap up my Dad's death in the perfect bow. There was no perfect meaning. There was no perfect timing or plan. It just was. He died. And there is a lot of love and meaning in the grief, but wrapping it all up in a perfect bow no more is what works for me. It's what makes sense to me. This old way of thinking leaves Gina's strength, courage, wisdom, discernment, and love out of the equation, and that's not right. I don't accept that anymore. I'm learning that I don't have to make meaning out of every little thing so that I feel better. I don't have to make sense out of my Dad's death because there is no sense to be had. He just died. He had Lewy Body Dementia and Ahlzimer's. He was sick, and he died. No mystery, no magic, no miracle, no proposed meaning.

So while I'm not here to talk about the death of Jesus on the cross this year, I'm here to say I don't really know anymore. I don't have faith in the Christian belief any longer, but I have faith in so much more! I have faith in myself, in others, in nature, in goodness and love. I have faith that we can all heal and recover from trauma and be our most authentic selves. I have faith in mourning and celebrations because they are all part of life. I have faith in our furry friends all around us. I have faith in acts of resistance, living in Minneapolis. I have faith that we can overcome our fears with some intentional work. I also have faith that my life is more than ok and that I am safe. I have faith that I am not broken and that there is nothing wrong with me. I may not have a new "firm foundation" in another being outside of myself, but I have myself. And I've shown up, done the hard, hearty work of recovering my life from emotional and physical pain. I have faith in being present, intentional, attuned, and connected to life around me and myself. That has been me, my work.

Life was easier when I could tie up any story with a perfect Christian bow, but I can no longer do that. I refuse to bypass any genuine thought and emotion that comes with hard times. Because I know one of the reasons Christianity was so appealing to me is that I could easily make sense out of why hard things happened! Life is hard!!! But learning to trust that my experiences aren't in God's plan is an act of faith itself. And it's difficult because talking about not being a Christian anymore is vulnerable. There is a level of rebellion that I feel. The subject is taboo. But being authentic is my number one value, so I needed to share.

Sometimes there is no sense making, no bow, life just is.

I hope that I can find more ease in writing the truth the way I see and feel it, and that some people will find my writing beautiful again. Bow or not.

Gina

P.S.

While I don't apply Christian meaning to everything that happens in my life, I still find great meaning in my life experiences! And I allow for my circumstances to unfold naturally, drawing insight and wisdom from them.

What Showing Up Can Look Like

2025-07-14T11:32:00.003-05:00

No matter where you are right now—in your mind, body, or spirit—what matters is that you show up. Even if it's messy or uncertain, showing up as you are still counts. It always counts. You are enough.

Being enough isn’t about perfection. Being enough is about just showing up, as is. As you. Right where you are.

It’s not about having everything figured out, being healed, confident, productive, or calm. It’s not about meeting some invisible standard of worthiness. Being enough means you’re human. It means you’re here. It means that even in your uncertainty, your flaws, your pain, and your beauty, you still matter.

Perfection is a moving target, and chasing it will only wear you down. But showing up as you are? That’s real. That’s brave. That is courageous.

Because life can be so discouraging, I thought I would share my moments of showing up in the wake of grief, self-doubt, and feelings of isolation over the last couple of months.

Here, showing up with my little therapy dog in the back, for a client session. I'm still grieving the loved ones I lost, I'm still hurting and foggy, but I'm still managing to do trauma work with my clients. They know I've not been in the best place, and not my best self, but I'm still showing up, and sessions have been beautiful, not perfect, but beautiful in their own way. I may feel down sometimes because I wish I had more clients in my practice, but if I waited to show up until I thought my practice was perfected, I'd keep waiting for something that, honestly, already exists.

Here I am doing something very uncomfortable. Handing out flyers for my practice in my neighborhood. This stretched me so much. Each set of steps up to an unfamiliar house: "Will they see me, what will they think, will they come out and yell at me, telling me to get out of their yard"....

But as I chose to keep going in all my discomfort, including the air quality, hence the mask, each step had more ease. I no longer feared going up the steps to each house; as a matter of fact, I had a bit of a spring in my step toward the end of the day. The goal is to get more clients, facilitate groups, and hold retreats, so I start with flyers, a yard sign (yes, we have two), and learning to talk more about what I do instead of worrying about impostor syndrome. Half the battle is believing in myself.

Here, I showed up for the beautiful, stunning, bright moon. What a gorgeous light that brought contemplation and calm. Don't forget to look up at night, folks. Show up for wonder and awe. It's so good for the soul, no matter what kind of day you've had. I remember I struggled with self-worth and purpose this day, so it was nice to see the moon from our second story out the window as I headed up for bed. Starting the day with the sun and ending it with the moon is something I highly recommend.

Choosing to show up to feed myself healthy meals instead of focusing on the 15 pounds I want to lose is a challenge in my mind, that is for sure. Rerouting and rethinking thoughts of hate about myself in any way is a worthy job, and I will never stop investing in my thought life. Wherever my thoughts are, there I am. I am deeply affected by my self-talk, or lack of self-compassion or self-love.

Please just show up and do the best you can. I'm a pasta girl, and here I used a small portion of pasta and added about two cups of veggies. Less pasta, more veggies, and still used all the things I love: olive oil, garlic, Italian seasoning, and crushed red pepper! Even if you're in progress with your body too, you can still enjoy what you eat, and learn that you're going to get there eventually. Don't dismiss the journey because you're so focused on the destination. Let the journey teach you.

In the journey, ask as many questions as possible and see if you can get quiet enough to hear. Listen to what you need to understand and how you want to grow. It might not be a food or body journey, but my guess is that you're on a similar journey. Loving our bodies the way they are in the moment and their current state is the hardest work that exists on earth, if you ask me. Because we are with our bodies forever on earth.

I'm showing up and honoring weird, confusing feelings. As a child with divorced parents, I often longed for a home to go to. One where both of my parents were, one where things from my childhood were, like my records, my decorations, and my bed. One where meaningful childhood memories were hanging on the walls. One where my parents were together. I've lived with the reality of divorced parents for over 30 years, but when my Dad died four months ago, the reality of it intensified.

I didn't judge the situation or myself for having these confusing feelings. I instead wondered about these emotions and just observed them. I showed up to uncomfortable emotional places within myself and let myself feel them, not solve them, but allowed myself for them to be felt. I spent some time lingering in these emotions. By doing so, I realized that I'm deeply enamored with the fact that these two made me love me and adore me. I am their child. This may seem practical, which it is, it's a fact, but it's a felt sense I've had, a deep experience. I guess what was felt was longing and gratitude at the same time. I'm still not sure, but showing up to feeling weird is worth it and a good thing.

One of the reasons I think it can be hard for us to show up as we are is because we don't trust that things take time to grow. It takes time for us to grow, others to grow, relationships to grow, and it takes a very long time for plants to grow, apparently. I've had this guy since we moved back to Minnesota, for three years, and those lightly colored stems are the first signs of growth. How can that be! I don't particularly know the answer for this plant, but it might be why it takes us so long to grow sometimes: we need to move around to find the sweet spot so we feel safe to grow, we sometimes need extra time and tenderness, and sometimes life just doesn't click for us until it clicks for us. Intuitively, we will eventually grow when we are ready and willing, and maybe that goes for this plant as well.

Boy, this is a big one. My husband showing up. The father of my child passed away in March. He was my baby daddy, my daughter's Dad, and we reconciled our relationship while he was in hospice. When my daughter was responsible for going through all of his belongings, we helped her. A few days after his funeral me, my daughter, my son-in-law, and my husband headed down to our unfinished 1909 basement and dug in. We are doing real-life things here, people. The unseen courage and bravery, the actions of the heart that don't get spoken of publicly, is where true living starts.

We went through Mike's things, and wow, was he a collector! (And no, my daughter did not get this trait, ok, maybe she did)

One of the many boxes we went through was all of Mike's fancy sports jerseys. Now, keep in mind, I am absolutely clueless when it comes to sports, I am not a sports fan, and mostly, I just don't get it. So when all of these jerseys appeared on my basement floor, I was floored. What on earth were these? Why would anyone have so many, and more importantly, why would anyone want them! We all got a kick out of it, out of Mike. As we dug and dug, my daughter said enthusiastically, "You can have one, Kev! Go for it." Kevin, my husband, also known as "Kev," went for it. He ended up with a couple of jerseys and a couple of hats.

This photo is of my husband Kevin, wearing my baby daddy's sports get-up, who passed away. Kevin wore this stuff to the Twins game 30 minutes after I took this picture. There is so much meaning here, but I think it's obvious without going into it. What a moment. I guess this is one way to show up.

Another way to show up is like this. My sweet, precious, strong Mommy! She was diagnosed with Lung cancer back in April, less than two months after my Dad died, I know, I know. My Mom has been weak, she's been strong, she's been mad, she's been sad, she's had pity on herself, and she's been down in the dumps. But she still shows up. And it's because of all of those emotions and phases over the last few months that she's been able to rise above some of that. Growth comes from showing up to your emotions, too. Growth comes when we deal with ourselves. And one way to deal with ourselves is by showing up!

Being real with how you feel and being honest about your thoughts is vital to showing up, and most likely a bridge to get us to the next phase personally. Mom has shown up for her chemo treatments, bingo, my house, day trips, weekend trips, her birthday dinner, and she's shown up for losing her hair. She let my husband shave her head because it was falling out so fast. She's showing up for others, too; she's got three kids and five grandkids that count on her support and love, and she's doing it, even though she's sick. She may not feel like herself most of the time, but she still shows up.

Talk about the ultimate showing up, Mom has ditched the turbans and is rocking her bald head at Gooseberry Falls in Duluth, MN, as we speak!

Thank you for being such an inspiration, Mom! Way to SHOW UP

We don't have to know it all, we don't have to have it all figured out, and we don't have to have all the right moves to show up. If I waited until I knew the exact thing to say and do, I would have stayed curled up in a fetal position in bed. I just simply wouldn't show up, and I've done this, not shown up. You may be angry, full of grief, confused, defeated, or full of despair. I know there's a way you can show up.

You may be "working on it", you may be on the brink of giving up. It doesn't matter. You can choose to show up just as you are.

Gina

Dad And I Part 1

2025-07-03T12:26:00.004-05:00

1993, the start of our healthy functioning relationship

Dad and I go way back, obviously. After losing him pretty much unexpectedly in February, I can't stop thinking about him. I swear we had at least six months left with him.

I know that is the quintessential part of grief, thinking of our lost loved ones. Grief is the mark of deep, complicated emotions and love. The emotional pain of grief is unbearable. At least it is for me. I'm in the stage where I'm not in bed playing sad songs and bawling my eyes out anymore. Or snapping at my husband, or being overwhelmed. His passing has taken root a bit, even though it hardly seems real.

The best way to describe where I am now is practicing avoidance (which is interesting because I never handle life that way—I usually dive right in, but I think it hurts too much with my precious Dad, so I've been very tactical at avoiding it). I'm not listening to music in the car, I'm purposely not looking at photos and videos, and I'm not making time in the day to "go there." Although I did create a memorial of him, I highly recommend this creative, healing process!

WAVES

But what is happening is the WAVES. I like to refer to these waves as THE MAVERICKS. Just like we got in NorCal when we lived there.

Here is a description of Maverick waves:

Mavericks is a world-renowned big wave surf break located off the coast of Half Moon Bay, California, known for its towering, powerful waves. These waves can reach heights of 25 to 60 feet or even exceed 100 feet, making it a challenging and dangerous spot for even experienced surfers. The unique underwater topography of the area, where a deep canyon meets a shallow reef, causes the incoming swells to converge and rapidly increase in height, creating these massive waves.

"Challenging and dangerous"-see, I'm too afraid to enter in knowing what diving in will do to my mind, body, and spirit. So, staying back on the shore feels better for now. Though I feel the grief mounting

"Experienced surfers"-I'm an experienced griever. Why would I want to stay on the shores of grief? I lost my best friend of 26 years ten years ago. But these Maverick waves make it even difficult for an experienced griever. Additionally, every loss is unique; each one affects our hearts in a distinctly personal way.

ERAS

Another place I've been in my grief is kind of a cool place. I realized recently that I've had five different Eras with my dad; it makes sense, I'm 50 (51), so 5 decades with him.

Hopping around in my mind and heart to these different eras has been cool, fun, playful, painful, nostalgic, wonderful, sad, and all the things.

I would be so curious if you've ever traveled through the different eras with your loved one?

Today, I wanted to say a bit about our second era together, the 90s.

Our first era is hard to talk about and write about, especially now that Dad is gone. I grew up in an alcoholic home, and Dad was the alcoholic. We didn't have much of a relationship for my first 18 years. Even at his funeral, when I gave the eulogy, it was such a loss to not be able to talk about my childhood. I try hard to think of positive moments growing up with him.

What happens right after those first 18 years is the best, coolest, most redeeming story ever.

When my parents divorced in 1993, my Dad got sober. My siblings are 3-4 years older than me, so I was the only kid left in the house for a few years. I was living those tough last years in our home alone. There are a lot of sad and painful things that happened, but when my Dad got sober, I was interested in getting to know him. As a highly sensitive person, I have always cared deeply about relationships, connection, and authenticity. But growing up in a chaotic household didn't provide any of that. My Mom provided love and support and was my rock through those years, but she was trying to survive herself, so a lot was missing for me in my childhood. Endless unmet needs. I'm sure this is familiar to many of you.

When Dad got sober, I started to go to Al-Anon to try to understand what was happening and how I could function in a relationship with him. Because frankly, I was still scared. I remember telling him that I could only be in a relationship with him if he stayed sober. How courageous of nineteen-year-old me! I remember desperately wanting to get to know my new Dad, connect with him, and find meaning in our relationship. Dad was receptive to this big time 😉. I could tell he wanted nothing more than the same thing as me: a real relationship, one that was intentional, mutually reciprocal, functional, and authentic.

And so it began....

It sure has been comforting and equally painful surfing back to 1993-1999 in my head and heart with Dad over the last couple of months. Thinking of him in that era, and how we built a loving, trusting relationship, is a beautiful, redemptive thing, and when I got pregnant, less than a year after the photo from above was taken, our relationship solidified. I once again told Dad I for sure couldn't be in relationship with him as a young single Mom if he was drinking. I told him how I had been learning about forgiveness and that I would learn to keep trusting him. And that I forgave him.

He stayed on his sober track. Everything changed, for the better. Our relationship turned into an unbreakable bond: his baby was having a baby, and I needed a Dad more than ever.

Here is Dad at 48 with his first grandchild, my daughter Madelynn

So many memories flood in when I travel back in time to the 90s era with Dad.

I love imagining when I was pregnant, how much we'd hang out, and how everyone thought he was my husband.

I love thinking about when I went into labor and he waltzed in the delivery room, talking about the cold weather, and I kicked him out,

I love when we lived next door to each other in apartment buildings for two years, and always walking back and forth for whatever, whenever,

I love thinking about hanging out at restaurants, coffee shops, and exploring together,

I love thinking of all of my daughters' early years and him babysitting and all the shenanigans that went down with that.

I love thinking about his unending support, jokes, kindness, stability, friendship, and care that he provided in those years.

But most of all, I love thinking about the newness yet the depth of our relationship, and how that took time, intention, work, mercy, and grace. Building that relationship and then that strong bond is incredibly unique and special, and I will always be forever grateful for that era with him. A true story of connection, redemption, forgiveness, and moving forward.

December 1999, six years into our relationship

Have you ever thought about your loved ones in the different eras that you had with them? I'd love to hear about them if you have, and if you haven't, give it a try; it's an immense comfort. I'm already looking forward to the 2000-2010 era😊

The Losses We Carry

2025-02-10T10:09:00.002-06:00

Currently, I'm experiencing a lot of grief. Can you see it in my face? My daughter's biological Dad is in hospice. Grief, unexpressed is bad for us.
The complicated grief I feel for myself and what she's going through is a doozy. It's all heavy. I'm resting in between all of the daily responsibilities I face. And Benson helps.

When we experience any loss, big or small, we grieve. Any amount of loss and any type of loss creates grief inside of us. Mostly when we think of grief, we think of the loss of a loved one. Yet there are a million seemingly insignificant losses that we all carry on a daily basis, and those are the ones I'd like to create a space for. Each week, on Monday, since Mondays tend to be a day we dred anyway, I'll be writing about the losses I experience from week to week or a particular loss I am currently experiencing. This can be a space for anyone who doesn't get to share their losses or feels isolated in them. Which is most of us. I think it's important to voice that grief somewhere, somehow, so that we can process, reflect, and possibly learn to let go. Here, I'd love to hear about your losses, so please share in the comments or send me an email.

Most grief is left unexpressed. The importance of the expression of grief helps us heal and not feel so alone.

I am a person who is deeply in touch with my emotions. Especially painful emotions, the kind of emotions that we have to work on to understand and process. The kind of emotions that need our attention. The harrowing emotions that can overtake a person. The ones we don't want to feel because they hurt so much. Yeah, those ones. I've been working on sorting through, making sense out of, and expressing my emotions intentionally for the past 20 years. It's the kind of work you ought to get a doctorate in, it's that intense and worthy work.

A lot of my scary feeling emotions to date, are in check. They are overall stabilized and metabolized. They don't run or ruin my life. Yet, there is one emotion bigger than any other that I find still gets me, and it is oftentimes left unexpressed. And that is GRIEF.

Grief is something that everyone experiences but rarely gets talked about and always seems to be present, even if under the radar. The grief we carry from the losses we experience matters. Our grief is sacred because our losses are precious, they mean something to us. Some losses mean everything to us, and because of this, we are never the same after experiencing any amount of loss.

The importance of the expression of grief is vital to our wellbeing.

Unexpressed grief is not good for our mind, body, or spirit. Grief is unique in that it is complicated in nature, making emotions tough to locate and identify, so grief can be hard to express.

Grief is also left unexpressed because frankly, others aren't the greatest listeners most of the time, and grief is so personal, that few people will empathize with our losses. Which leads me to my next point. Grief is all the losses we experience, big and small. Grieving does not come just when you lose someone you love. Though that is the most profound loss. Grieving happens in our day-to-day, yes every day usually, without anyone even knowing we are hurting. Behind closed doors, tightly closed doors we are experiencing some form of loss. Without even saying a word, we are drowning in our sorrowful grief and it does not feel good.

Everyone, every day is experiencing all sorts of loss, and most people wish they could express and share what they are carrying but we don't know where to begin, we don't want to be minimized or dismissed. Each of us also wonders if it's truly a loss- if it qualifies, so we hesitate to mention it. Losses also are coming and going especially the small ones, and time is too fast to catch them all.

This is why I want to create this specific space every week because everyone has something they are losing, so everyone grieves. And most of us don't have a place to feel less isolated about it. I'll say it again, most of us aren't good listeners to no fault of our own-we weren't taught how to be. We can't handle people's discomfort when they share so we get uncomfortable and usually say the wrong thing. The wrong thing meaning, something that doesn't help, or makes the person feel worse. All unintentional of course. But nonetheless, true. We are scared of other people's pain and discomfort because we don't know how to help. We want their pain to be better, that's a good human thing, but trying to fix someone's pain is rarely the answer for folks expressing grief.

In all my work with people over the years, almost 15 years of working with individuals one-on-one and in group settings, I have found that people just want to express what they are going through and share how they feel without anyone trying to fix it. Without someone comparing (this can help if the situation is basically the same or very similar, but one should still proceed with caution with this), without someone saying, "Oh that's not a loss, that's no big deal" or "why would you feel sad about that?" without someone dismissing their pain, without someone giving advice, or trying to fix it.

Folks want to be heard and feel seen, they want to know they are not alone. As a Spiritual Director, this is how I operate one-on-one and in a group, and because of my profession, I ask open-ended questions that might help someone process their grief even further. The point of me creating this weekly space is so that folks have a place to hear about the losses I've experienced and the grief I carry, in hopes that they can relate and possibly reach out if they need to. Hearing other stories of loss helps grievers of all kinds! Reading about something similar that you may have lost helps take the edge off and helps you feel more stabilized and validated.

The big losses that we might experience throughout the year that cause grief are:

losing a job

getting divorced

finding out about a new diagnosis

seeing a friend experience grief

the loss of a friendship

the loss of what once was in a person, place, or thing

grieving our old bodies while we go through changes

moving

losing a loved one

not liking someone in your family

being chewed out by someone causes a lot of grief

relationship complications

not being seen or experiencing injustice

changing as a person (religion, beliefs etc)

(and more)

The small losses that we might experience day to day that cause grief are:

not hearing back from someone you wanted to

being ghosted

not getting the job you wanted

being ignored

not being appreciated

being gaslit

a friend not responding

not being heard or validated

and someone being unkind

a sick pet

changes in parents' health

your child hurting

(and more)

As I navigate through the grief I carry, whether it's from life changes or a broken heart, I hope some of what I share will resonate and help you feel a little less alone with your grieving heart. I do think unexpressed emotions can make us feel sick. This is a space where you can come and hopefully express the losses you carry with you.

In peace and shared grief,

Gina

Life Is Here

2024-12-04T19:33:00.004-06:00

Entering into an unexpected season of grief, and not just from the election results.

My daughter's biological dad has entered hospice after fighting terminal cancer for over three years.

Our first snowfall seems timely.

Snow is somehow loud and quiet at the same time, a lot like life.

Hi friends, the Contemplating Beauty blog is back. I've learned so much about myself since I've been away from this space. A lot of my content here will be about my absence from writing and all the things I've been learning, working on, and the healing that has taken place. Hopefully, this space will be a place of encouragement & inspiration to you. I have found that because of all the life changes and personal work I've done for the last four years specifically, that created some sort of self-expression block. Especially with writing. So much worrying about who is reading, what they think of what they read, am I saying something that will hurt someone, and on and on. It never ends, but I'm trying to change that, now. I just want clarity, and to freely express my life through writing. I want to share what I know, my life experiences, and all the things in between.

Some of what you might find here are lists, like lists of all the things I've learned about myself, lists of the top no no's in relationships, or lists of ways to heal, etc. I absolutely love anything in list form, so I am definitely going to channel that energy. You will also find personal reflections, my thoughts/advice on life and sometimes I may get worked up about injustice that's going on in the world. Overall you'll find a mixture of practical and spiritual insights. I take an authoritative approach in my life so you'll pick up on that here as well.

A Poem For The End of 2024 & Why I haven't blogged in so long

I want to get started with my first post, which is a poem for our time, but I also wanted to share why I'm back on my blog. Once I started writing again, about a year ago I decided to join Substack, funny enough I didn't realize Substack was a social media platform 😁

Substack overwhelmed me. In the few pieces that I wrote, I felt like I was trying to be seen and get noticed. I felt like I was trying to make someone happy but I didn't know who.

I also felt like I didn't know who I was writing to. For some reason, I felt restricted, not myself. Here, I can just be ME. I don't need a theme, or a niche or a specific audience. I don't totally understand it, but that's how I feel. Being a Highly Sensitive Person definitely plays a role in this response😇

I hope you'll be on this journey with me as I continue to find my voice and my place on the internet. And yes, I'm still dreaming of writing and publishing a book-believe it or not, I'm getting closer!

Coming back here to my first writing home seems like the right move and more importantly doesn't feel overwhelming, I feel safe here. I don't feel the need to impress, I can just be myself. If you want to be here, I'd love for you to subscribe, that way you can receive emails of all my posts!

Sunset out my front window

Life In The Midst

a poem

Life is embedded in the memories that once existed

buried in years past

those years are still here,

we can imagine the conversations

we can feel the bodies against our skin

we can hear the words

feel the pain

life is in the glimpses, not in the always

it is in the holding on and the courage to let go

life is in the faces of those experiencing healing and hope in the midst of the unsure

the fleeting moments of affirmations, and understandings

life is in the breakthrough even though we are stuck

the spoken beauty and the unspoken

the speechless

it is in the expression even though dismissed

it is in the caring about the misuse of people

in the compassion extended

in the voice crying for justice

life is under the pile of worry

the loss of life and chance

it is in the tears

and the glimmers

it's in the emptying and filling up

it is found in the tethering of what is good

it is light

and rebirth

life is the gem of reprieve and rest

it is seeing the ugliness

and knowing how to add to the beauty

it is someone seeing you, validating your existence

it is in the emotions that you can't locate

and in the fullness of feeling

life is when you don't know what to do

and when you know what to do

when you can't grasp anything

it is in the ever-changing

and ever mundane

the unfamiliar

the familiar

life is the trust of unknowing

and dancing with acceptance

life is here

in the midst

in the hidden

in the possibility

in the small

in the trinkle

in the twilight

at dusk

Sending love my friends,

Gina

White People Can Never Know Your Pain

2021-04-12T12:24:00.005-05:00

ArtByMonday

We think we know the pain of Black folx as white people. At least the white people who are awake enough to be paying attention to the unnecessary murdering of Black and Brown bodies. As allies we post on social media, give our condolences, support BLMM, and share the sorrow that we feel. But in all honesty, we haven't a clue. This awake group of white people, (allies), aren't the group of people making up excuses or finding comfort in our ignorance. We are the ones that truly care and are angry.

But as white people, we can never know your pain, because we are the ones that have caused it. We will never know.

If I had a warm blanket that would cover you in the depth of my love, I would give it to you.

If I had a warm blanket that would cover you in all of my apologies, I would offer it.

If I had a warm blanket to help comfort you in your trillions of tears, I would wrap you in it.

If I had a warm blanket that would keep you safe from the cold of the night, it would be yours.

If I had a warm blanket that you could respite under that would bring back every Black baby, son, daughter, mother, father, niece, nephew, grandparent, partner, cousin, and friend, that was unjustly taken, I would.

I am sorry for the things that I didn't know and that it took me so long to know them. I am here now for what it's 'worth, and I will not stop offering you a warm blanket.

Dear Nells,

2020-11-17T20:36:00.013-06:00

Dear Nells,

You've been gone a month and four days now. Say it isn't so. It feels like it's been a couple of weeks. All my energy goes into missing you. I'm not crying every hour or two anymore and I can get out of bed now. I'm also back to work; I took two weeks off. I'm finally starting to smile and laugh here and there again too. It hurts so so bad living without you. I have felt like I don't know who I am without you. Who would have thought that when I met you fourteen and a half years ago that it would be possible for your little being to steal my heart. You know as well as I do that when you first walked into the den at our house on Minnehaha Avenue with sissy holding you, I was very unsure of you. I had never had a dog before and I was not expecting one then. You looked like a drowned rat and in retrospect, I'm sorry that's the first thing that came out of my mouth when I first saw you. But you were quite raggedy. Turns out you just needed a good bath.

Your existence only took a matter of minutes to sway me. You weren't my idea you were daddy's. Getting you for me was his way of apologizing for something. It was you or a bunny, and I'd much rather have you! No offense to bunnies! I was smitten the moment I took you from your sissy's arms. And then of course went right to the kitchen sink to give you a good bath! After that, we named you Nells, based off of our favorite character Nels Olson on the TV show 'Little House On The Prairie'. Turns out Nells is spelled with one L, oh well.

Nice and clean! Much better.

You came to us right in the middle of many family struggles. We were a new blended family, and in our marriage, we were having infertility. I so desperately wanted to have more children, but having you in the mix truly helped. You brought so much joy to our family and we loved playing for hours with you while we videotaped your every move in your designated play area: the 1912 farmhouse kitchen in our first house. Early on I could tell that you were peculiar and somewhat odd, but that made me love you more! I hope you loved the down to earth training or lack of training I gave you instead of being pretentious and perfect. I loved that about you and I loved that about us together. We certainly made our way the way we wanted to. We were full of shenanigans. From trying on clothes in the pet stores without buying them, to actually playing with stuffed animals and then putting them back on the shelves when we were done. Oops. I miss you so much. And by the way, I'm sleeping with your lion. He's helping me heal.

This was just a few days after you passed away.

I cried so much my head felt like it was going to explode.

I look a little better now.

We were such trouble makers. Here you are in the tutu that we never bought.

Thank you for being a part of everything in our lives without having a choice in the matter LOL. I bet you loved it when I had all those abdominal surgeries and you got to lay on the couch with me 24/7 for three years didn't you? Good excuse for you to be a couch potato which is probably every dog's dream. You also went through some years of yelling between daddy and I and for that, I'm forever sorry. I know it gave you some fear and insecurities, but you're the best for still trusting us. I'm so thankful those years are long gone. Just as you brought so much joy collectively to our lives, you bridged a gap during those tough years in our marriage by simply being you. When sissy left for college, I don't know what I would have done had you not been there. I felt so lost without her, but I had you. You were such a comfort. Thank you for making me laugh sweetie, and for the extra cuddles during that time. You really were my second child.

I could simply look at you and feel better.

You were my guy.

You also championed through a huge move across country, and adapted very well to California! As much as you enjoyed the snow back home, you loved the sun. More sunbathing for you! Once again there you were. In the middle of my transition that was extremely hard on me. When I was homesick, you had my back. You can thank me for your love for the ocean by the way! You were an adventurer before we moved to California but Cali definitely made you into even more of one, especially when it came to the coastline. You truly seemed like you wanted to be one with the sea. That's so cool.

Your first time meeting the pacific.

I'm super thankful you had a full, adventurous, spiritual, fun, exciting, chill, interesting happy life. I know you had your own challenges. You were such a champ! I especially loved taking you everywhere! I bet you miss car rides, they were your fave. People got to know you and they adored you, sweetheart, they truly did. They honored you so much as after you passed away. They all asked me where you were when I didn't show up with you at certain places. Especially Blue Bottle Coffee and Project Juice. The employees and managers gave me free coffee and food for a couple of weeks. You made an impact wherever you went. Even on social media! Giving you your own hashtag was one of the most brilliant things I've ever done if I do say so myself. I so appreciate having that hashtag now. You were super photogenic.

I'm especially thankful for the last couple of years in your geriatric stage. You are such a champ navigating through Kidney Disease and Heart Disease. You went on a trip to Sea Ranch, countless drives up the coastline, vacationing with us during a global pandemic, and swimming in the Russian River this summer. All so much fun. You were a trooper. You were always down to do whatever. You were the best.

See! Super photogenic! So pretty!

Here you are in the Russian River this summer!

You had so much fun. Seeing you happy made me happy.

There is so much about you and your presence I miss. I miss singing to you all day long. I miss your nicknames. I miss your cuddles. I miss your smelly breath. I miss how you extended one leg out further than the other one while you ate for balance the last few months. I miss coming home to you eager to greet me. I actually miss you barking while we ate. I miss your mysterious look when you'd stand and stare at me from the kitchen. I miss your stinky gas. I miss your curls. I miss dressing you in clothes. I miss our walks. I miss carrying you back from our walks the last few months when you'd get weak. I miss how nosy you were. I miss sleeping with you so badly it hurts. I miss feeding you, taking you out potty, and every detail about you. I even miss your cool wet nose. I miss it all. I miss YOU!

I wondered recently if I told you enough before you passed away that I loved you? That you were wonderful. That I thank you for being my dog. That I'll miss you. That I'm sorry you had to go. Did I? I wonder. I really hope I did. Did I?

It's embarrassing to admit but for the last several weeks I've been watching videos of you and looking at pictures a lot. And I mean A LOT. I've also been watching Youtube videos of bichon-poo puppies. Apparently, people have a breed they like. You are it for me! Watching and looking at all of this stuff helps me a lot but it's also painful to talk about you because your memory isn't super vivid and that makes me sad. I don't fully understand why that is but it must be part of the grief process. I remember going through that when Amy died. Almost like I couldn't remember her. It's absolutely heartbreaking that you had to go. I even filled up your water bowl, call me crazy.

I haven't had the gumption to move your bed, your toys, your medicines, and of course your food and water bowl. By the way, Maple next door took your food! I set it out on the boulevard and her mom later told me she took it. That made me happy but I'm not sure how you'd feel about that. What do you think about giving your dog bed away? Too soon? Glad you enjoyed that thing the last year of your life! That was a good purchase. Your bed now serves as a memorial.

Speaking of memorial. We did hold a memorial service for you and you would have loved the cake sissy brought! I held the memorial less than a week after you died and it might have been too soon. I was not doing well. But we had a few close friends, we read some liturgy and played the song 'Halo' by Beyonce'. That song reminds me of you because it was playing on the radio on my way home to get to you when I knew you were not doing well. We also toasted to pink bubbly and shared our favorite memories of you. The memories are endless. That's a good thing. I want you to know that you were cremated. My brain is so literal I thought that would be the last thing I would want. But it turns out that it's more complicated to keep your body and cremating you was the wisest choice. I just picked up your ashes last night and can't begin to process that supposedly they are you. Oh sweetheart!

These are the photos of us saying goodbye in the apartment before we brought you to the vet. I got ONE HOUR with you, that's it. The most crushing and love-filled hour of my life practically. I never knew an animal could impact me this way until I met you. I hope you felt my love in that hour!

I could go on and on about your life but I wanted to tell you about the night you passed away. It was all together heart wrenching and beautiful to hold your head in my hands as you were dying. How could this be? I saw something in your eye and knew it was time to give the green light to the doctor. I knew the inevitable was going to happen but I was trying to put it off as long as possible. The doctor was gracious to give us all the time we needed to get to the point where we could give the green light. How do you give a green light for something like that? I don't know, but you just do. I just did. I saw a peaceful twinkle, an "it is time" look from you and I had to make the worst call of my life, I had to give the green light. You trusted us to take you through this experience called death. Or as they say, "the rainbow bridge." You trusted us to see you through. You trusted us to love you through it. You most certainly trusted us with your one precious life. What a gift. Thank you for your trust.

I hope you know you had a wonderful passing. I think you could tell. I hope you're not mad at me for it. I wondered if you knew what was happening. Maybe it doesn't matter if you knew. What is most important is that you knew you were safe and loved, right? When you let go and your head became heavy in my hands it was confusing and shocking. The doctor said it, "Nells has passed, Nells has passed......" What? I said. I couldn't see through the tears, my face was soaking wet. I just stood there and stared at Dr. Peng.

I am so sorry your life had to end. I still cannot believe you had to go. I'm learning to believe that you are still here. But that is a process. I want you here here. Like actually here.

I truly believe each relationship is what you make it so the fact that you were a dog didn't matter as far as my love for you. Some might not understand it but losing a living thing regardless of what "it" is is still loss. Significant loss. Remember when Amy died? I was told by my grief counselor that the significance of a loss is marked by three things: length, depth, and affection. No wonder losing her was so massive and painful. No wonder losing you is so massive and painful. A bond is a bond is a bond.

I do have to tell you something though. For the last couple of days, I've been looking at puppies for sale. I know, I'm sorry. But you know how much love I have to give and I have to get it out of my system! I drove you crazy at times admit it! There was one puppy for sale, his name was Nutmeg. His face was so you, but he was sold already which is probably a good thing. Because if I could clone you I would, I know that's weird, but I want you! Anyway, I thought, well, it's not meant to be and it's too soon. I'm still grieving I'll just have to wait for the right time I thought. It's just so quiet in this apartment. The next morning something strong inside of me pulled me to those pups and I made a list of all the possible available bichon-poo puppies and their breeder's names and phone numbers. I went through my list of about ten options and after all was said and done, there was one puppy that seemed awkward but yet a good fit, and all the logistics fell into place as well. So long story short, we bought a puppy!!! He is like you, a bichon-poo but we purposely didn't get apricot color because again, I can't recreate you or clone you, so we got a cream color. His name is Benson and he is 9 weeks old. We are trying to rename him but no name beats Nells in my book so who knows what he will be called. It feels like I'm betraying you but Grammy assures me I'm not.

Speaking of Grammy, she misses you like crazy, and she too has been looking at videos of you that I sent her. You not only turned me into a dog lover you turned her into one. She told me recently that she loved you. All of our family and friends love and miss you. Papa, Jan, Larry, Kay, Auntie Lisa, Uncle Nick, Amy, Rose, Angie, Charlotte, Lindsey, Yana, our neighborhood, especially Matthew, everyone that knew you and knew of you... and of course sissy, for sure she is in shreds like me. We received many good things after you passed. We got tasty food deliveries and flower deliveries. The flowers would have been meh to you but the food would have been a score. The love from family and friends was extremely wonderful after you passed away. The visits, the texts, a special poem, cards, gifts, the macro polos, the emails, the social media messages, and the phone calls. Their support carried me.

So are you mad??? Do you think it's too soon to get another dog?? Do you think I don't love you because I got a new puppy?? These are normal human questions that I know dogs don't bother themselves with but that I wish I knew the answers to.

Benson arrives in six days. He's flying into SFO. He's from Ohio! He will not be you but he will be him. I'll try. I just can't imagine not measuring him up to you. You were the best, the absolute best in so many ways. Your spirit will live on. It is living on. As a matter of fact, when we were at the beach for a few days for our anniversary this week, I was sitting on the balcony thinking about you and I got up to go refill my coffee, and when I returned there was bird shit right on the arm of my chair! Was that you??? Seems like something you'd do. I also saw and felt you a lot that week on the beach. Thanks for that. I did a google search after you died, "What signs will I see if my dog is with me in spirit"? Some answers were believable some not so much. Like one was that I might see a feather here and there. And the next morning there was a feather in my coffee grinder! They also said I might feel warm spots on blankets or the sofa. Mmm not so sure about that one. But we get to choose what we believe so I choose to believe you're here with me.

I asked God on the beach what He wanted me to know for sure and I heard, "That Nells is with you...."

Thank you for your incomparable, incredible, immeasurable life that you lived. I'm grateful daddy and sissy saw you at Har Mar Mall in the pet store. I was hesitant to love something strange at first but look at the floodgates that opened as I embraced you.

When I experience loss I'm reminded of C.S. Lewis' wise words. I don't remember the exact quote but he basically reminds us that yes, love is a risk because it involves pain and heartache. But if we don't choose to love, we will never experience the joy that comes from it. So in life, there is both joy and sorrow. Life is full of "both and's"...

I can grieve you and learn to love a new puppy.

Thank you for letting me be all that I was to you. Now I have to do the same for a new dog, but that's only because I first loved you. You are my soulmate Nells, my forever one and only.

Are you there God? It's me, Gina.

2020-03-29T15:47:00.002-05:00

Are You there God? It's me, Gina:
Things have gone from bad to worse, have You heard? Your whole creation has been thrown into an experience that they have never encountered before and they need You. We need to hear from You.

Are You there God? It’s me, Gina:

I know You are there because I believe what the bible says. I know You are because I’ve felt You so many
other times in my life whether it's when nothing makes sense and hurts to the core. Or in my everyday
life. I know You are here, there and everywhere. I know You are. But can I just say I don’t hear You
much these days. Why is it that I have so much to say and you don't?
It feels like the world has gone
dark, and you have gone rogue.
We are in need of a miracle because we cannot understand the mystery.

Are You there God? It's me, Gina:
We have a person running the United States of America that uses racist slurs. But I'm sure You
know this, I'm sure You've heard him.
He's referred to COVID-19 as the "Chinese virus". Asian Americans are deeply hurt by this Lord,
and so am I. I know You are too, cuz that's the
kind of God You are.This is simply not the name of the disease.
This President calls other people names too God and it isn't presidential, regardless
of what political party one is with.
God plant compassion and love in the hearts
of Your people! Please soften hearts.