 When I was 13, I lived in Costa Rica for a month with a host family. During those few weeks I attempted to practice my Spanish, give up my love of sweets (this was a fail — my host-mom willingly obliged to my sweet tooth and treated me to ice cream every couple of days), and learn about the beautiful culture of Costa Rica. I saw Pixar’s “Up” in theaters, cried like a baby in the first ten minutes (even though I could barely understand a word because it was in Spanish) and was introduced to the world of acrylic painting by my host mom. I went to school with my host sister for a few days, visited an active volcano, picked ripe mangoes and lemons, and even had the opportunity to try yoga for the first time. And despite feeling slightly uncomfortable because I couldn’t understand much that was being said around me, I found the experience to be amazing.  In order to get there I flew internationally as an unaccompanied minor — which, at the time was pretty much the coolest thing EVER. In the airports I met kids from around the world and was able to hang out in designated lounges with *free* food specifically for U.M.’s. It was basically the equivalent of flying Sky Priority for a kid and yes, it was the sh**. As much as I would like to take credit for the idea, it was actually my dad’s. We have a history with this family in Costa Rica — when they were in grade school the mom of this family lived with my dad’s family, my aunt then went to live with her, and years later her daughter lived with us, and it’s gone back and forth time and time again (did you follow that??). So, naturally my dad thought it would be appropriate that I live with them for a time, too. And I was all about it.  Since I was young, I’ve been captivated by the idea of traveling and seeing the world — to have opportunities to explore and have conversations + experiences with people who have different backgrounds from my own. To this day, it might be the thing that excites me the most -- to learn more about this vast yet beautiful world from these alternative points of view. I think there’s such value in this — in seeing others’ perspectives. It’s something that I’m striving to attempt every single day: to have empathy and enduring patience in perceiving the world and everyday situations from others’ viewpoints. In our current and ever increasing political and polarized world, I believe it’s imperative that we practice this: to open up our minds, have empathy, and truly listen — to listen to hear rather than to formulate a ready response.  Seeing the world from other contexts restores my appreciation for my own life, opens my mind to just how vast and complex our world is, and reminds me of the good that exists in every moment. THIS is why I travel. Xxx Reyna
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 written October 2020 // Stagnant. That’s the word that keeps on coming to mind when I think about this season of life that we’re currently experiencing. Some days I view it positively - as a form of being content and at peace, and others… I feel plain ol’ restless. Stuck, and patiently waiting for the next chapter, whatever that might be. I’m ready to turn a page, to jump! And yet, I feel bound - anchored - to this current season. Can anyone relate?  I was recently reading the fall edition of the Magnolia Journal (you know, cause I’m unapologetically obsessed with anything and everything to do with Joanna Gaines) and I came upon these words from her: “So often I think we view anchors as negatives, things that might keep us stagnant and prevent us from pushing forward into new territories. And I know in my own life, there have been moments when I have questioned these natural tendencies and the routines and habits I hold fast to. I have wondered if I might live more freely without them. However, when I pause to look closely, more and more I have come to see that these anchors are what keep me from floating away into places where I don’t want to be or that I’m just not ready for yet. Instead of stifling me, they actually provide a safe place for me to grow and explore and be. Anchors still allow their boats to float and move — to find a rhythm the waves around them. Their purpose is simply to keep a boat from drifting so far off course that it’s difficult to recover.”  The anchors of our life can be significant things like faith, prayer, meditation, but they can also be seemingly small and mundane like cooking, reading, running. The magical thing is that they somehow offer a place of refuge in the ever changing landscapes of our lives.”
Our time is coming, dear friends. Be patient. And cherish these anchors — both metaphorically and physically — while you have them. xxx Reyna  I took all of my grandparents into Glacier National Park yesterday morning. We left at 4:45 a.m. in order to beat the crowds and to be socially distanced. It was beautiful — my one set of grandparents had never been to the park and the other had visited only once, nearly twenty years ago. I believe that mountains have the power to infuse life into each of us, regardless of our age. (Which is perhaps just one of the reasons why I’m infatuated with them.) I saw that spark of life in each of my grandparents yesterday, but especially in my mom’s dad, Grandpa Rieke.  Grandpa Rieke grew up in the Cascade Mountains of Washington state and lived his adolescent and young adult years exploring and appreciating the mountains of the Pacific Northwest. After completing seminary in 1963, he made the decision to leave the mountains and move halfway across the country to Minnesota and has lived on the plains ever since; yet, he’s always held a love for the mountains and has taken nearly every opportunity possible to escape out west to satisfy his undying desire to be in “God’s country.” A few days ago, he and my grandma boldly decided to purchase train tickets to Montana and ride out west. Since arriving in the Flathead Valley, he seems to have come alive again. And yesterday I was able to see a glimpse of that adolescent boy again — he was back in the mountains, exploring and inhaling the mountain air he grew up on. Despite the fact that it was barely 6 a.m. when we were driving the Going to the Sun Road, he had more energy than anyone else in the car and wouldn’t stop commenting on everything he was seeing along the alpine drive. After strictly quarantining these past four months, he seemed finally free — it was as if COVID didn’t exist.  I am lucky: I’m in my mid-twenties and these past few days I’ve been able to spend time with all of my grandparents who are currently living and breathing mountain air. And just 36 hours ago, I even had the opportunity to HIKE with them in our nation’s *best* national park. (Not that I’m biased or anything.) How cool is that?! These last couple of days I’ve been coming to terms with the reality that my grandparents are getting older. (A fact that I’ve undoubtedly known all of my life but has especially been hitting me lately.) What is more, the even greater reality is that none of us are going to live forever — all of us are aging every second of every day, but I think you know what I’m saying: time with grandmas and grandpas must be appreciated because our seconds are undoubtedly limited. And boy, I am certainly appreciating this time. Xxx Reyna       Don’t let anyone fool you, creating art is a labor of love. Like anything that is worthwhile, it takes time, intention, and patience. I’ve created a variety of paintings in the past few years. Some weeks I feel my creative juices overflowing and have the energy to pump out multiple pieces, creating and completing works in seemingly all of my spare moments. And yet, other times, I don’t feel particularly inspired and certain pieces prove to be more of a challenge.  This piece for example: I started it back in March when COVID was first hitting the United States and Walmarts were completely wiped of toilet paper (seems like ages ago.) While quarantining at home, I needed projects to keep me busy so naturally I turned to painting. This particular mountain acrylic became one of my project babies, and yet, throughout the course of the last few months there were multiple occasions when I would find myself staring at it and hate what it was becoming. Since May, brother Luke seemed to ask me daily, “You’re done, right?” To which I would consistently respond, “No, not until I’m satisfied.” That’s the trouble though: as an artist, I’m rarely satisfied. One day I’ll look at something that I’ve created and feel content (and sometimes even pleased), and the next day I’ll look at the same piece and it’s as if I have a brand-new set of eyes because I’ll see x, y, and z needing to be added and/or changed. Creating art truly is a journey. Which is perhaps why I’m so “drawn” to it... I rarely know what my end result is going to be. Sometimes I’ll have a general image in my head, but usually it comes as I start to play... playing with my paint, my brushes, my fingers, water... and eventually, the end result makes itself known.  Kinda like life I suppose; or, so I’ve come to believe. Many of us are going through life without a clear destination in mind — a fact that I’ve slowly been coming to terms with in recent years. Although I am twenty-five years old, I still don’t have a clear specific goal for my life, something that I’m not sure when or if I’ll ever realize. However, like my painting, I have a general idea of what I want in this life, and because I’m willing to put in the work and enjoy what I have presently in front of me, I am confident that when I arrive at the end of my life, I will have a beautiful, bold, and bodacious painting to look back on... and perhaps I might even feel pleased.  This piece: “Is it finished?” you might be wondering. Technically, yes; I handed it off to its new owner just the other day. And yet, my honest response to such a question is: a piece of art is arguably never finished because there is always work that can be done. Just. like. anything. And everything. You can always work on something to perfect it more; and yet, sometimes you have to learn to be satisfied with whatever that “thing” is in the present. Especially in this strange season of COVID and quarantining, appreciate the little moments within this slowed pace of time: time with your pets, your close ones, and engaging in activities that energize you. Take breaks from technology and invest in the real life that is staring you right in the eyes. Yes, things could be better, but that’s always the case regardless if we’re in a pandemic. So, do the work and appreciate the journey — the highs, the lows, and the path that is paving the way to a beautiful ending, an end goal that you just might not need to know at this point in time. xxx Reyna  Disclaimer: This blog was not intended to be an in-depth analysis or opinion of the circumstances happening in the United States today. I admit, the title is misleading and in this piece I offer a light opinion which may be interpreted that I don’t care or feel the need to address more pressing issues such as systemic racism or the future of the police in the United States. This is not the case; as I mention in this blog, I realize that I am not an expert in any of this, so I don’t feel that I should be inserting my specific opinions into the conversation. Perhaps that warrants the idea that I should not have put my opinion out there in the first place, but then again, I am receiving mixed messages regarding joining the conversation, etc. I appreciate all of the feedback that I have received and I do not disagree with many of you — however, I will always be a believer in the power of a simple act of kindness. I know kindness will not solve our nation’s issues and is in many ways an over simplification, but I am a believer that there is always value in listening to others. Additionally, I have heard feedback from multiple friends that this is a humanitarian issue and I wholeheartedly agree. However, I believe that our media has painted it in a political lens which is why I chose to frame this blog within that framework. (6.12.2020) I am rarely vocal about my political beliefs on social media - mainly due to a fear of being attacked and not wanting to engage in and contribute to negativity - however, I want to share a perspective. Yet, before I share that perspective, I must first tell you a bit more about myself.
I am a moderate, meaning, I hold both conservative and liberal beliefs and values. (Side note: I realize none of this is about me. And that is why I was hesitant to initially post this because I realize that fact. However, I also am a writer and have a voice, (which I realize is a privilege in itself) and that reason alone is why I am now choosing to share these thoughts.) I studied at a Minnesota Liberal Arts college, spending a significant amount of my undergrad in departments that boldly claimed and taught liberal ideals. As an undergraduate at this same school, I spent a semester interning in Washington D.C. for a Republican senator, an experience that opened doors for me to interact with and learn from both the Republican and Democrat parties. And, since before I can even remember, I have been involved in the arts. As is the culture with the arts, this sphere of activity is often more liberal in nature; thus, many of my most formative experiences and conversations have been influenced by liberal perspectives and many of my closest and dearest friends lean left. As for the media, I receive headlines and contributions from CNN, Fox News, and The New York Times in my inbox each morning. I also follow both Candace Owens and Michelle Obama on social media. And, to paint an even larger picture, my immediate family is proudly conservative and I have a brother who is black and from Haiti. With all of this being said, I can’t go without saying that I am a white woman who has benefited from a place of privilege in society. Yet, from all of these experiences and individuals, I have discovered with time that I hold moderate beliefs, and with this point of view I strive to be intentional with how I listen and learn from both sides. And so, these past few weeks I have been listening, reading, observing, and learning. What happened to George Floyd sparked a revolution across our nation, and as is the case with all social justice issues, it quickly becomes political and there seems to be a side to be picked. I don’t claim to be any expert on race or have extensive knowledge of our nation’s current systems in place. I realize that racism is an issue that is deeply ingrained in the history of the United States and has been ongoing long before I came to be on this planet. And, because of my place of privilege in society, I will never truly grasp or understand what a black person living in America today has to deal with on a regular occurrence. Yet, if anyone were to ask a young moderate white woman about her thoughts concerning the matter of George Floyd and Black Lives Matter, they might hear thoughts similar to those that I have listed below. The following are my takeaways from these past few weeks, lessons and beliefs that I currently find to be true.
Friends, perhaps I am an idealist, but why is it so *damn difficult* for people to listen openly to another’s point of view? It often seems impossible for us to withhold judgement and instead immediately start defending our own point of view and casting our personal verdict. I get it: we’re human, and being kind is not an easy task, especially when passion, power, and topics regarding privilege are at play. I encourage you to strive to understand what you may fear and to be patient with what you may not understand. There is power in words and value in hearing various points of view. I urge you to listen and respond effectively and respect others. Watch this TedTalk if you want to be inspired with how to openly engage with opposing viewpoints and people who might think differently than you. I do not wish to be attacked or debate with any of you. That is not my intent of posting this; yet, I realize that is probably unavoidable because I just posted a plethora of controversial opinions and ideas and as the nature of social media, it ignites and perpetuates debate. However, as I said, I do not wish to debate you. I am currently exhausted from arguing and instead I urge you to engage kindly with others. Do what you can do educate someone who might think differently than you and make your points so they can see your viewpoint as best as possible. Finally, understand that you won't be able to force them to change their beliefs, only they can do that for themselves. Please. Be kind, listen, and learn. Those steps are crucial if we want to see progress. xxx Reyna  I remember feeling paralyzed with fear the first time I was called into the top five at Miss North Dakota.
I remember thinking, “But what if I actually win???” and being terrified by that thought. I mean, yes, I wanted it. But I never felt that I was “perfect” enough — that I didn’t have all my sh** together so I obviously wasn’t ready or qualified for the job. Who was I to win? I compared myself to girls who seemingly knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives — who had a specific game plan that they were following. And me? Hah! I’ve never felt that I have had a set trajectory for my life. Yes, I’ve known that I wanted to go to college and eventually grad school and find a job that I loved... but beyond that, whew. The details for a long time eluded me and are still making themselves known, which is a fact that bothered me in the past because I desperately WANTED that strategic, efficient, and set in stone game plan. It’s only been during the past year that I’ve finally accepted that it’s okay to not know specifically where I’m headed in life, and that’s the beauty and excitement right there: to not know. But instead, to find meaning and value in the everyday moments. That my purpose shouldn’t be found in where I’m headed, but where I am right now: the people and experiences that are right in front of me. I’ve made it a habit in telling myself that I must trust the process — that if I work hard and treat people with kindness along the way... that things will have a way of working out. So, if you don’t know what you’re doing with your life or where you’re headed... that’s okay. Most of us don’t. Many of us feel as if we’re in limbo (especially right now) and that this “in between phase” feels like a waste of time. I’ve realized that living in limbo is especially frustrating for me because I feel like I don’t see as much progress and direction as I typically do, and I’m bothered by the idea of being stagnant with my goals and subsequent actions. But the fact is, I’m not. And you’re not either. Being stagnant is an illusion. There’s growth and change happening even when things might seem slow or appear to be at a standstill. Keep trusting yourself and the process, be kind, and give yourself some grace if you feel like you don’t have everything “figured out.” None of us really do. There’s your daily dose of motivation, friends — here’s to the start of another week of quarantine! xxx Reyna |
