A única coisa que se muda é o endereço.

Ever been to a rodeo? Cow ropin? Hog tyin? Barrel racin?

Spent any time around Cowboys?

This is a diagram of the traditional course for barrel racing. The video below is a different type of competition. I'm not sure of the name.

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, answer this:

Been to more than one rodeo in different towns? Different states? Different countries?

I won’t say that I “grew up around the rodeo”, but my small town of Isanti, MN hosted one of the largest rodeos in the state every summer. I was no stranger to the weekend excitement every July.

I won’t say that I “grew up around horses”, but, by the time I turned 12, I was an experienced rider. (Oh how I wanted my own horse when I was kid.)

I won’t say that I “grew up on a farm”, but my father did and as a child we grew or raised (or my father hunted) pretty much everything my family ate on the 12.5 acres we called home.

All of that must be why, while visiting my friend Francesca this past weekend—whose daughter recently became a proud horse owner, I was in no way put off by the prospect of watching some barrel racing in Macae,RJ, Brasil.

What I did not know, was how much I would recognize. For example:

Cowboys love country music and God (listen to the song in the background and notice as this young rider makes the sign of the cross after her run)

Skewered meat/barbeque goes hand-in-hand with ranchin’ (and cold beer).

Farms are dirty.

That my father and my uncles have Brazilian twins.

This man, from behind, looked so much like my Uncle Bob I wanted to give him a hug. There was another man competing who resembled my father; Sierra pointed him out but not in time to snap his foto.

It was such a fun experience to be around generous, kind-hearted, fun-loving people who literally spent 12+ hours on the ranch, racin and having a great time that day--in the hot Brazilian sun might I add. While we were all exhausted, drove back the 30 minutes to Francesca's oceanfront apartment, took hot showers, put on clean clothes, not covered in dust and smelling like horse, ate pasta, and crashed. The Cowboys and Cowgirls, on the other hand, finished their day of fun with a heel tappin, yee-hawin barn dance 'til dawn.

For a minute, I wished I had a horse and was a Cowgirl too.

I guess some things are the same no matter where you go.

The only thing that changes is the address.

On being CatholicI have been thinking about my religion a lot lately. If someone asks, I always answer, "I'm Catholic." However, I, like many other Catholics around the world, cannot name the last time I attended mass. I, unlike many other Catholics around the world, don't really feel guilty for this.
I am not sure whether or not I should feel guilty for it. I don't know if it makes me a bad Catholic because I don't feel guilty, but I don't.
Despite the fact that I don't regularly attend mass, I am very spiritual and very faith filled. Most people don't know that I pray daily. Most people don't know that I put great weight in Divine Power and Divine Intervention and Divine Direction. Most people don't know that I often turn my eyes toward the sky and say, "What is it you want me to learn Lord? I'm trying to listen, I really am, but I just am not hearing you."
My faith not something I openly share. It's not for sharing. It's personal. It's mine--my faith, my belief, my conversations with God. I don't want to share them necessarily or need to.
So why am I writing about being Catholic and having faith and talking to God on my public blog you might ask.
Because today something so incredible happened, I want to share it. I want to voice it for fear that it will disappear if I don't. I want others to hear it because maybe others have had the same experience and think they are alone.
When I woke up this morning, everything was different. The smell in the air was different. The green in the trees outside my bedroom window was different. The pink across the sky as the sun rose was different. The kindness of the other commuters on the road was different. The reflection of the  mountains on the ocean was different. As I made my way to work, I caught myself looking at the same scenery I see everyday as if I was seeing it for the first time. And I caught myself smiling for no apparent reason. I found myself saying, "Thank You Lord" outloud.
I felt this overwhelming sense of peace. I felt this overwhelming sense of direction (which was incredible to feel since of late I have felt VERY lost/without direction). I felt such a presence of God.
It reminded me of a song a friend shared with me about 10 years ago. A song that had struck a chord the first time I heard it and struck a chord again today. It explains what was happening to my view of the world this morning.
Instead of looking for miracles and not seeing any, I was looking for where there wasn't one. Seeing miracles all around me, I smiled. I think I am starting to truly believe...

when we feel the most discomfort, we learn the most;
when we feel the most out of place, we are truest to our needs;
when we feel that we are wandering alone, He is there;

If we trust...
If we listen...
If we see...
If we believe.

I believe.

Enough?

This picture is enough for me.

What is enough?

Time with my loved ones. Time to myself. Hours in the day. Money in the bank. This isn’t a new question for me. It’s one I revisit from time to time. It’s one I like to pause and think about. It was the recent loss of Steve Jobs that inspired the reflection this time. This man not only changed the way we communicate; he changed the way we think, the way we think about the way we think and communicate. His death led to an array of inspirational Facebook status updates, reminding us all to be creative, try, never give up, don’t let failure stop us, be true to our heart’s song, and think outside the box. The world mourned the loss of a great man. I have to admit, I didn’t know his name before he died. I Googled him.  It’s true. The first posting about his death I read on Facebook led me straight to Google. I clicked on that first Wikipedia link and thought, “Oh! That’s who that is. How sad.”

Not long after, I saw this:

I didn’t need to Google anyone to understand.

Then  I saw this:

At first, I was offended by this one, but I wasn’t sure why. I thought about it. I realized, it was because I felt it was disrespectful to Steve Jobs’ survivors.  Then I thought, maybe I’m offended because I feel guilty, and I began to wonder. Is it possible to get so lost on our own individual path that we forget to look around us? Have I forgotten to look around me? Do we get carried away with wanting more and forget to see how much we have? Have I become selfish? Are we really successfully living in a world where international news is literally a nanosecond click away, thanks to the man on the left, yet we ignore the reality in the photo on the right? (There’s something ironic in that, isn’t there?) What do I know about the world today? At times, I think I am choosing to live in the neatly enclosed bubble I created.

I am blessed. I am privileged. Regardless of the number of times I get caught up and think I need more, I am among the rich of this world.  Seriously, what are my daily concerns?

Will I oversleep and be late to work?

Will the pool be installed by the time the weather turns hot?

Will there be enough hours in my work week to get done what I am responsible for?

Is there gas in my car?

Is there coffee?

Do I have clean underwear? (ok, not really a legitimate thought, but it’s about the caliber of concern listed here, so it fits.)

What if. What if I had to worry about where my child will sleep at night? What if I had to worry about medical care for myself or my loved ones? What if I had to live in constant fear for my safety? What if I was illiterate?

Enough wealth? Measured in what way? Evaluated by whom? Do you have enough? Could you give more? Could you live more simply?