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Vision2020

This …. Right here …. I knew that if I didn’t go out on my own in 2013, I would regret it…. When the chance came to move to 925, I knew that if I didn’t follow my instincts, I would regret it.

I’ve taken a lot of chances that most people thought were crazy….

This week I’ve decided to take a couple of other chances…. Because I never want to be woman that talks about what she let get away, and the chances she didn’t take..

Someone told me that I don’t give myself enough credit… That’s not true… I know exactly what I’ve done and what I’ve done without … and I know who believed in me and encouraged me and reminded me when it got tough. I’m grateful .. and I make damn sure they know.

I decided to look for signs that I was meant to take the next chance.. and it came perfectly clear and abundantly so.

This next steps are going to be amazing…I can feel it ..

#Vision2020 #dreamscometrue #bestisyettobe #loveyourbody #rockwallbodyandsoulmassage #jeannasoul #musicandmassage #damnstraight #deaftherapist #writingmyheartout

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Around 2 a. m

She woke up

From a restless sleep

Where she dreamed of

What she wanted

Everything she needed

and mysterious things

That probably had some meaning

And like she always did

Around 2 a.m

what came natural

she curled up

With a blanket wrapped

around her

She wrote her heart out

The only way she knew how

And she wished for coffee

But didn’t want to walk

All the way downstairs

Leave the warmth for the col

the bottom half

Never stayed warm enough, anyways

Around 2 a.m

She would do without coffee

For now

But she would not do

the feel of her blanket

The sound of the music

or the words she found

Waiting to be read

Around 2 a.m

3.29 a.m. 2.6.2020

Www.jeannasoul.com

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Men

Open letter to men,

I want you to know that I see the ways in which we (women) have contributed to the wounding of the masculine psyche.

We don’t often recognize that while we talk about how men have hurt women in this culture, women are also hurting men.

With our words, our actions, and our unreasonable exceptions of you.

I want you to know that being vulnerable is masculine.

That to give me the gift of seeing you in your vulnerability is a blessing, not something to curse.

I want you to know that I will never tell you to “man-up” again. It must hurt to hear that when you are stumbling, you are no longer perceived as a man.

You may even be confused as to what’s expected of you now that so much has changed.

Dear men, we still want you. We still need you.

I want you to know that your energy, your presence, your commitment and your devotion show me that I am safe, protected and cared for.

I want you to know that I can hold space for you too, just like you do for me.

I can witness your emotions, sit with your tears, or be with you when you’re confused.

You are human, it’s ok if you stumble.

I will not leave you if you cry.

I want you to know that you’re not expected to perform or be ready to at all times.

Most of all, making love is about presence, it’s about passion, it’s about true connection.

Make eye contact with me when our bodies connect, show me you’re with me, give me your energy, and you will feel our passion rise to create true love.

When things go sideways let’s laugh together. Intimacy is more than just sex, it’s about kisses, snuggles, eye-gazing, and conversation. It’s many forms of expression.

I want you to know, that you are most attractive when you are fully expressed. I want to see you dance, to laugh, to play, to hug and give/receive love.

Dear men, you are safe to be yourself.

As a woman, I promise to do my best to contribute to the rising and healing of the masculine, alongside the feminine.

This is not a one sided journey. We need women to rise, and we need men. We need you too, so please show up with us.

I want you to know that I see you.

You are valuable beyond measure and the gifts you provide are different and unique to what a woman provides, and this is why communities are made up of all genders, not just men or just women.

We are meant to work together, to support one another, to cherish each others differences, not demonize them because we have false expectations that aren’t being met.

I want you to know that I will do my healing work and support women in theirs so that projections of the mother or father are not placed upon you in relationship. And I invite you to do the same.

You are not responsible for my happiness. It is not your job to “fix me”.

You have the opportunity to lead as a conscious man in this world. To demonstrate what it’s like to live with an open heart, as a humble leader with a mission.

And I believe in you.

~ Rising Woman ~

Sometimes I must share what I’ve read and how it touches my soul.

This does.

A few days ago, another woman made a post about how when a man leaves his cell phone on silent, and turned face down, and has to unlock it when he picks it up, it means he’s messing around. She didn’t know the man but had been observing him at a coffee shop. She was quick to jump all over his case by the way he had his cell phone.

I couldn’t just let it go.

“Maybe he’s deaf, maybe he’s a massage therapist, maybe he’s a First Responder and knows what happens when a phone lands in the wrong hands.

She got her panties twisted… “That’s the way most men are.”

Bullshit.

I love men.

My best friends are men.

I’m married to a man.

I have three grown ass sons that are good men.

I know they are not perfect but neither am I or any other women out there.

When I need a real friend, it’s my guys that come.. when I’m working late, it’s my guy friends that check on me, when I’m at the gym, it’s the guys that stop by and talk to me.

Most of my clients are guys.

I realized the reason why.

I make them comfortable. They can be vulnerable and strong. They can be silent or talk to me. They can fall asleep and know they are safe.

I hold space and I hold hands. I hold secrets and I hold their regrets. I hold on when they are falling apart and I hold back the demons when they feeling attacked and alone.

I’m a man lover. I will not let men be trashed or painted with broad brushes.

I will take them as they are and make them into what they want to be.

I’m gonna stand by my man…. Every single one of them.

And that’s all I got to say about that.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

6 22 a.m. 12.18.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Bad Romance

Two weeks ago, I had a new client finally come in to see me.

We had interacted on social media for months and I knew he was following me on my posts on Facebook and Instagram.

This is how it is with First Responders and Veterans. They take their time, learning about who I am and what I do before they come into my place and receive bodywork.

It takes time. It takes trust. It doesn’t happen overnight. It can’t be rushed.

I know this and I just let it come when it does. I open the door to communicate and I let them gaze at the door as long as it takes before they walk across the threshold and into my space.

And I’m ready when they do.

Most of the time.

I’m not always prepared, though, for everything that happens.

You see, while I have the door open so I can gain their trust, something else happens.

I become known. I become seen. I become vulnerable. I get touched in all kinds of ways.

And sometimes it reminds me of who I was and who I need to be.

Days after his session, my client sends me this video with the comment,”The girl on the right reminds me of you.”

I clicked it.

I was transfixed.

It was like looking in the mirror, seeing myself again.

Me.

The girl I was. The woman I am.

Tears ran down my face.

I watched it again and again.

The hair.

The dress.

The color.

Everything.

I got home and walked into my closet.

I have a dress almost exactly like that, still.

I turned on the music, really, really loud.

I begin to dance.

Again.

I caught my reflection in the mirror.

I was smiling.

The big, real, genuine Jack O’Lantern smile that Mema always said gave me away.

“Gave me away.”

That’s what it is… Some things just give you away, give away your passions, your pleasures, your so-called “buttons” that only people that take the time to watch and see, listen and learn, find out about you.

It’s a romance in many ways.

I know that it’s a give and take, to give fully, one must be willing to receive fully, too.

An open door goes both ways.. One can come in and one can go out.

One can see inside and one can be seen from outside.

I know my client doesn’t realize the gift he gave me when he sent the video.

It is a gift, though, in a very beautiful way.

He reminded me of what one of my heart desires is, of something I had pushed way back and let go of.

I needed this reminder so very much.

It made me stop and think and write down what I wanted and needed in my life.

To be known and loved.

To know and love.

To dance on the edge.

To dance again.

To open doors.

To come back.

To go forward.

Bad romances and all.

To be the woman in the dress, dancing my heart out.

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

938 a.m. 11.26.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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AVA Daily Prompt Jeanna' Soul

Soul Speak (Opened door again)

S O U L S P E A K

Whispered
Art
Falling
On A World
Of Deaf Ears

Drenched
With
Emotion

Igniting
A
Spark

A
Dying
Language
Always
On The Brink
Of Extinction

Seducing
With
Beauty
That
Conceals
The
Razor
Of
Truth

My
Soul
Speaks
In
Empathy’s
Quiet
Untrembling
Voice

Elusive
And
In-Direct

A
Masochistic
Endeavor
Revealing
The
Gentlest
Form
Of
Human
Courage

Invisible
Footprints
No Mountain
Can Erode

Soothing
Our
Wounds

Making
Our
Scars
More
Beautiful…

-randini-

What can I say

My deaf ears heard

So many things

When the soul would speak

I sat captived

Eyes unwavering

Lips formed words

Pierced my heart

Broke it into a million pieces

Just as I asked

Long ago

Be careful

So I was told

What you ask for

You just might get

I wanted a broken heart

And a soul on fire

Filled to the brim and beyond

With invisible footprints

Left by all those

That walked in

Made themselves at home

Carved their names

Into the walls of me

And filled me with the courage I needed

To see the beauty

In all the scars

👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead

707 a.m 9.18.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

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Safe Words

When it is time

To step inside

Shut the door

Do what must be done

I won’t bite my tongue

Clench my fist

Hold tight for what might happen

Keep the door cracked

Just a little

Because everything

Every little thing

Is gonna be alright

Hard to explain

How the past

Tries to break in

Cause some trouble

Raise some hell

Bring me back down

Where I don’t ever want to go again

When I think it’s all over

Locked safely away

It comes out

Tries to shatter my peace

But not now

Not anymore

I will whisper

The safe words

That have been engraved

Upon my heart

Etched into my skin

Worn upon my arm

Placed all over my walls

The words that keep me

Strong and fierce

Hunkydory

Fearless

Full of joy

Living my life

Falling in love

Dancing in the dark

Riding the waves

Flying free

Feeling with both hands

Reading chapter and verse

Making big plans

Giant steps

Leaps of faith

Dreaming big

Finding magic

In secret places

Discovering treasures

Hidden away

Now when I step inside

I’ll close the door

Delight in all I see

Do what I came for

Linger just a little longer

In this safe place

With all the words

I need.

👣♥️

Jeanna’ Mead

643a.m 8.23.19

http://www.jeannasoul.com

When I decided to make the move to the Cade house, it was because of several signs that made me know it was meant to be.

One thing set me off, though, and my mind went straight down a path I didn’t want to go.

The commode closet is 4 feet wide by 4.5 feet deep with 10 feet ceilings. With white walls and white door, it was cold and inviting but more than that, it made me feel trapped. I had visions of someone turning off the lights, since the switch was outside the door, and placing a chair against the door knob so I couldn’t get out.

I shared this with a few people and they all laughed and assured me that no one would do that.

I was not convinced.

Every time I had to use the restroom,I would lock the door to the big room and leave the commode closet door open.

I couldn’t ease my mind.

Maybe it was irrational but it was my way of fighting my demons.

Then Tuesday my aunt Judy, and her daughter, Brandi and Brandi’s daughter, Mandana came into my new massage studio, carried bags and bags of treasures up the stairs and created a beautiful, sacred and safe place that bought me to squeals of pure joy and tears of happiness.

They spent the entire day and evening arranging and placing things perfectly, taking my gifts from clients and friends and putting them where I can see them and feel the love. They found paintings and pictures, pillows and silk scarves, baskets and wooden bowls, books and rocks and mixed the old with new.

Thift store finds mingled with handcrafted pieces from Europe.

Mexican shakers nestled in a bird cage.

Mirrors reflected pictures that had been painted of me that had been taken on days that I always remember as days that I felt known and loved.

A beautiful cut rock was placed next to a pitcher. They had no idea that the pitcher was a gift from a woman when I first opened my 203 Fannin location. Every time I look at that pitcher, I’m reminded of her gracious spirit.

Up on the fireplace ledge, was a little jade bird… It reminded me immediately of the song my Mema loved to sing.

“One, two, three like a bird I sing

Cause you’ve given me

The most beautiful set of wings”

It also reminded me that God has placed each person in my life for reasons and that there I am to love and live like an uncaged bird.

All these things, all the details in my massage room and even my closet meant so much but the biggest surprise was what they did to the commode closet.

They had blindfolded me… Something that took a level of trust in itself. Being unable to hear and unable to see is a step of faith for me.

They sat me down on the white throne and took off the blindfold and, just like that, my demon was slayed by the words and the art and the pictures that covered that 4 feet by 4.5 feet by 10 foot high commode closet.

Words of strength.

Words of faith.

Words that made me laugh.

Paintings by friends.

Pictures from my original studio.

Treasures from stores.

I could sit there and feel safe.

Known and loved.

They thought they were only decorating my place for me.

They did that, too.

But they really gave me the most beautiful set of wings.

They made this place safe and sacred.

They gave me what my soul needed, what I longed for, what I tried so hard to trust my Intuition for.

They took the words I had spoken and believed it mattered.

This is a gift beyond measure.

Known and loved.

I can fly.

Unafraid.

Thank you.

Thank you.

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Love Big Much

The other day while riding with my daughter, Kateley, I heard the sweet voice of Luke Everett, my three year old grandson, and then my daughter’s laugh.

She glanced over and me and told me what he had said.

“I love you big much, Momma.”

Then, seconds later, “I love Jamma big much,too”

I looked back at him and said, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yeth,”he said, without the “s”.

“Big Much!”

Isn’t that the simplest truth?

Before we know it, he’ll start saying “so much” or “very much” as his grammar improves but the simple,beautiful meaning of “big much” is what I’ll hold on to.

“Big” isn’t small, isn’t confined,isn’t limited. It goes higher and deeper, it’s strong, it’s tough,it’s more of everything.

When I think of “big,” I think of Texas- how vast and varied this state is, bordering the ocean, touching state lines, boating rivers,lakes,mountains and rugged terrain as well as well-manicured lawns and a diverse culture…so much in one state just like love.

Big Much Love is far- reaching, unconditional, exceptional and real.

It’s a brown eyed little boy with a mischievous grin and long sandy blonde hair.

It’s Luke Everett.

And it’s how we all should be.

Loved and loving.

Big Much.

❤❤Jeanna’ Mead

10 05 a.m 5-14-19

Www.jeannasoul.com

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Who We Were

5 weeks ago, I started a 6 week challenge at a gym, determined to get my body back in shape.

I sent a text to my cousin. Jeff,telling him what I was doing and explaining that I missed who I was.

I told him that I missed the body I had back in 2013 when I opened my massage studio. I missed the way I looked and felt. I complained to him that I didn’t like what I looked like now.

Jeff texted me back, and his words have stuck in my head since.

“We can’t be who we were, only who we are.”

Then he said, “Do you really want what you had then….you were obsessed with fitness, and now you’re crazy about those kids.”

Obsessed with fitness.

Crazy about those kids.

How true those words are.

Jeff is right. He really is.

I was obsessed with fitness..training every day and watching every thing I ate..and it showed. My body was toned and tight, my muscles were cut,and I walked confidently in high heel wedges and shorts. I spent hours at the gym, money on training and on fitness equipment. I arranged my schedule around my workouts and made sure that I had gym time.

That was who I was.

Things have changed,though.

Back in 2013, I didn’t have what I have now.

I have other reasons to be strong,other reasons to wear shorts,other reasons to have defined muscles.

I have four grandchildren; Riven,Luke, Charli,and Phoenix.

I’m crazy about them. I arrange my schedule to see them, to have play dates with my most favorite people.

This is who I am now.

I’m Jamma.

In 2013, I wasn’t and now, in 2019, six years later, this is who I am.

There’s a few strands of gray in my hair now. There’s more laugh lines around my eyes. I know my body isn’t as toned and tight and my muscles aren’t cut like they used to be.

I wear shorts with tenny shoes so I can run up and down ramps at the park and catch a little boy that jumps off high places, confident that I’ll catch him.

I eat chocolate fudge brownie sundaes on dates with a five year old.

I let a 2 year old pop candy in my mouth.

I lick the icing off spoons, lick yogurt off sticky fingers, kiss glazed sugar lips.

I share french fries,tator tots, and milk shakes.

And it shows.

Not just in my body.

It shows in the way that really matters.

These kids know I’m crazy about them. They know,without a doubt,that they are my priority.

They don’t care about how tight and toned I am. They care about how I tight I hug them.

They don’t notice the defined muscles, they just know I can carry them.

They feel loved. I feel loved.

As I count down the days until my challenge is finished…I find myself reflecting on these truths and the words of my cousin, Jeff.

“We can’t be who we were, only who we are.”

So for the next five days, I’ll arrange my schedule to train hard, to get in extra workouts, and I’ll watch every bite I eat and everything I drink.

I’m going to do my very best and win this challenge to prove to myself that I can still be who I was.

But then, I’m going to be who I am.

I’m going to be obsessed with who and what I am right now in 2019.

I have more now. More reasons to be physically fit, but also more reasons to be obsessed with my life,not just my body.

I have things to do, places to do, dates to the park and to stores, and hot fudge brownie sundaes waiting to be shared.

“We can’t be who we were, only who we are.”

Isn’t that amazing?

We can decide and become who we are right now.

The past- no matter how beautiful or how broken- is over and done with.

The present is now.

The future is to come.

Be who you are, now.

Obsessed and crazy,even.

Be all there for the life you are living now.

Do the very best you can and arrange your schedule so that you can love more.

See yourself through the eyes of those that really matter..not just the reflection in the mirror.

It’s really that simple.

Crazy, isn’t it?

Jeff knows me well…he’s known me long enough to understand my crazy obsessions and call me out on them and sit me straight.

I think we should all have someone that will tell us like it is

“We can’t be who we were,only who we are.”

👣💗 Jeanna’ Mead

9 38 a.m 1.13.19

Www.jeannasoul.com

P.S..I’ll always be Jeff’s cousin…and he’ll always be mine.

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Wake Up Dead

One day I received a text reply from my friend and it said, very simply, “Take care of yourself or you’re going to wake up dead.”

Wake up dead.

I laughed it off at first but then I started to reflect on those words and what it meant.

Wake up dead.

Just imagine that you wake up dead..Just like that..and all the things left behind, left unsaid,left undone….

There’s a Paulo Coelho quote that I love that says,

“One day you will wake up and there will be no more time to do any of the things you wanted to do…do them NOW!”

And yet…I’m so guilty of not doing the very thing I’m always telling others to do.

I have a long list of things I want to do and places I want to go.

I have words to write and words to say.

I have things to give and things I want to receive.

I have people that I need to spend more time with and people that I need to have a heart-to-heart talk with.

If I was to wake up dead, there would be so much left unsaid and unfinished. There would be chaos and clutter for anyone that tried to make head or tails of all my drawers and closets,my books and papers, and the way I’ve done things but…..

That’s the way I am.

However..I don’t want to wake up dead that way..I just don’t.

While I know good and well that no one is promised tomorrow and only God knows when number of our days, I know something else,too.

Life is precious. Life is beautiful. Life is meant to be lived fully, lived extravagantly and intentionally, lived with love and generosity.

Because one day, just like my friend said, we will wake up dead.

Gone to glory.

Dancing with Jesus.

Standing at the pearly gates.

Passed away.

And just like that, it’ll be over and done with.

With this in mind, I decided to go through my drawers, my closets, my attic. Organizing all the stuff that I’ve accumulated over my lifetime…letters and cards, drawings from my children, handwritten recipes from my beloved Mema and Mom, books I’ve highlighted and written in, journals and notebooks filled with my poems and prayers, my painful memories and my beautiful reflections, blessings and curses that comes from the living life on ragged edge.

I want to make sure that when that time comes and I wake up dead that there isn’t anyone left wondering how I felt, how much I loved, what mattered to me.

That’s right.

I’m going to say what I think and what I feel.

I’m going to apologize when I should. Raise Cain and Abel when I get riled up. Sprinkle kindness like confetti all over creation. I’m going to whisper “I love you” and shout it,too. Dress up fancy for no good reason. Drink chocolate milk from wine glasses and wine from plastic tumblers. I’m going to dance with strangers and those that I love. I’m going to say “YES!” when I want to and declare “NO!” when I don’t.

I’m going to make time for what matters to my body,my spirit,my mind. I’m going to make plans and not excuses. Find reasons and ways instead of obstacles and barriers.

Because one of the days I might wake up dead and I damn straight want to be sure that I lived.

I want to give people something to talk about when that day comes,too.

I want them to say things like this.

She sure did love with her whole heart.

She felt with both hands.

You never had to wonder what she thought about things. She spoke her mind with truth and grace.

She was a damn good listener even though she was half deaf.

She gave as much as she received.

She loved surprising people and getting surprises.

Lawd have mercy, she loved to dance.

She couldn’t carry a tune to save her life,but she sang anyways.

She was strong as a bull and stubborn as a mule.

She didn’t always have the best but she made the best of what she had.

She never gave up on people,no matter what.

She loved cowboy boots,faded jeans and pretty lace underwear and worn them from the day she lived till the day she died.

She was smart. She was kind. She was beautiful in her own way.

Yeah, that’s what I want people to say about me when I wake up dead.

But I also want them to say it right now while I’m living and I want to make sure I say it,too.

I don’t want to hear that someone I know and care about woke up dead and I hadn’t made time to talk to them.

I don’t want to gather at a funeral home wishing I had another chance.

I don’t want to have a long list of regrets;of cancelled invitations, turned down dates, missed opportunities, unspoken words,unwritten letters,untold stories and untaken pictures.

That’s not my style,not my desire, not my choice.

So here it goes….this year is winding down and a new one is about to begin and I’m making a list,checking it twice, kind of like Santa Claus, of all the things I want to do,all the people I want to love on and the places I want to see and the dreams I want to come true so that I can start checking them off, doing it all, living my life with passion and love, giving and receiving beautiful things.

From now on.

Just because.

As long as I can.

Until the day comes.

When I wake up dead.

👣💗Jeanna’ Mead

8 59 a.m 12.6.18

Www.jeannasoul.com

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Choose to be love Create A Ripple Effect Daily Prompt Heart to heart Jeanna' Soul kindred spirits Make Love Uncategorized

Ann’s Choice

When I was 16 years old, I had a boyfriend, David, with an incredible mom that made a lifelong impact on me.

One afternoon I was invited to a cookout at the backyard of their house in Dallas, and David’s dad was there as well.

I had never seen a divorced couple on good terms in my life. Here they were, ex-husband and wife, acting respectful and considerate, even laughing and joking around with each other and their sons.

I watched and listened, half expecting it to fall apart and things to get ugly and for David’s parents to start acting like all the other divorced people I knew.

Every other divorced couple I knew held such anger, such disrespect, such intolerance for each other.

I was used to divorced couples that couldn’t even be in the same building without all hell breaking loose much less the same house.

They would hurl accusations and talk about each other in such a way that I couldn’t imagine how they had ever once loved and lived together.

My Mema’s friends would sit at the kitchen table, giving a play-by-play of every wrong ever committed by the ex-husband. I would hear stories that made me almost swear I would never trust love.

There was just so much hated-pure and simple- and vengeance between every divorced couple I knew of.

Until I knew David and his mom,Ann.

After the cookout was over, I told David that I was really surprised at how everything went with his parents. He smiled and said, “You should tell my mom this.”

I walked over to Ann and asked her how it was that they got along so well after the divorce and exactly what made them different from everyone else.

She sat me down at the picnic table, looked straight at me and said, “I made a choice. We made a choice.”

Her words became engraved into my heart that day. Simple,profound, beautiful words.

“I made a choice.”

Ann then explained,talking to me as if I was a woman and not just some silly, nosey 16 year old girl.

“We fell in love years ago, we got married and we had two children together. We chose each other back then. We saw good things in each other and we wanted to be with each other.”

I nodded my head, listening to her, reading her lips, fully aware that this wasn’t an ordinary conversation.

“If I choose to talk bad about David’s dad, then I’m also talking bad about myself….because I chose him. I fell in love with him, married him, had children with him….what does that say about me?”

I’m so stunned by this revelation, by the way she’s talking to me in a gentle,firm voice that I just sit there, giving her my full attention.

“Another thing, these boys are half of me, half of him…if we talk bad about each other..then we are also talking bad about our sons. We chose to have these two sons, and now we need to continue to choose to see the good in each other and in our sons.”

Choosing. Choices. Continue.

“It hasn’t always been easy and we are not perfect by any means but the important thing is that everyday we make the best choices we can and that includes choosing to see the good and the love we once shared and still have for our sons instead of the differences and what went wrong in our marriage.”

Imperfect but important.

Good outweighs bad.

Love can change.

I decided then and there that if I ever decided to get married and if I got divorced, that I would follow Ann’s example and choose to live after a divorce the way she did instead of how I had seen others live.

It just made so much sense to me as a naive 16 year old girl.

Over the years, as my friends married and divorced, I would tell them the story of Ann and encourage them to make choices that showed love and compassion, understanding and respect for what once was and what could now be.

My friends would chide me and say, “Well,that’s easy for you to say when you haven’t been in this situation..it’s different when it’s your choice.”

They had a point. We never really know how we will handle things until we have to walk the line.

Ann’s words hit particularly hard in 2015 when my own marriage began to fall apart. I had to dig deep to make the choice to continue to love, to see the good and be willing to let go with grace and accept changes if it was meant to be.

Choose. Love. Change. Continue.

During those dark days while we danced on the ragged edge of reconciliation and separation, we talked about choosing to still be good to each other for the sake of our children and because it was the right choice to make.

Our marriage survived and that time gave me a greater understanding of the depths of how much Ann had gone through as a woman and a mother to wrestle with her own emotions to use good sense and knowledge to make the best choices for the long run.

Several weeks ago, another friend sent me a text.

“I got served divorce papers this morning.”

When he came by to see me, I told him to about Ann’s choices and he said, “I hope we can do that..I think I can, I would like to anyway.”

Hope. Desire. Choose.

In the midst of pain, in the chaos of change, in the sweet by and by, in each and every moment, we make choices.

We can choose to remember the good, let go of the bad and watch how love changes.

We can choose to sit across from a 16 year old girl and share with her wisdom that she’ll spend a lifetime pondering.

We can choose to reach across the table,across the barriers, across the ragged edge and find a way to bridge the differences, connect on another level and love in different ways.

We can choose to give and to receive compassion, understanding,forgiveness, and grace. We can choose to laugh again.

That was Ann’s choice. It is my choice. It can be yours.

Jeanna’ Mead

8 33 a.m. 11-4-18

Www.jeannasoul.com

👣💗 With much gratitude to

Ann Carns, David’s mom.

Her choices and her words have shaped my life.