Tag Archives: Photography

How I Found a Formal Dress in 24 Hours Without Leaving the House

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24 hours to find a brand new dress, without leaving the house.

Formal.

Conservative.

Not too expensive as I knew I wouldn’t wear it more than once.

And had to cover my huge patch on my stitches.

Oh, and I refused to go shopping on Memorial Day with all the crowds besides the fact that I didn’t have time.

Ready, set, GO!

Yep. Late Sunday night, I discovered the wedding we had last night had a slightly different dress code than I expected.

I looked online at the three major department stores at the local mall. Nothing on sale seemed to work. I had zero desire to hit the mall and loads to do at home anyways. Then I realized, wait, why not try Amazon?! 10 dresses showed up…late. Not before 10am on Tuesday but at 3:30 pm and we were leaving at 5:00. Fun times. I hoped something would work…and if something did, that I would somehow be able to try on all the dresses, get showered, get my hair and makeup done, and be ready on time.

Miracle of all miracles, check out this $47 find on Amazon. I’ll take it! And I’ll wear it again. Loved it! The wedding was gorgeous. Glowing bride, beaming groom, pink and orange flowers and fun live music. Lots of orange all around.

Here’s to “miracles” happening and love blooming. Sending warmth,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Someone Else Has It Worse — and Your Pain Still Counts

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Do you ever have those days where you feel like your pain, your struggle, isn’t worth sharing because someone else has it worse? Have you ever been told not to complain because, guaranteed, someone else has it worse? And have you ever been in the middle of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day… wondering how you’ll make it to bedtime without collapsing… when the doorbell rings?

And there’s a delivery. And it’s for you. And for one small second, something in you shifts as a small smile spreads on your face. Not everything. And not completely.

But enough. Enough to make your struggle feel a little lighter. Enough to make you feel seen. Enough to remind you that you might actually make it through this moment. I have. This was me two days ago. Laying on the couch. Feeling crappy and crappy for myself. The doorbell rang. It was a flower delivery. I was confused. Mother’s Day had passed. The note simply said: “Congratulations.” I didn’t even know what the congratulations could be for.

I called the florist to ask who it was from. The flowers were from my fiancé. “Thanks for the flowers,” I said. “Um… what’s the congrats for?” “Congrats on making your new nonprofit official.” You read that right. Nonprofit. I’ve been dreaming of creating this for as long as my heart can remember. And it’s one step closer to happening. This happened last week. Even signed a contract for an office.

So more than one step closer actually. In all the preparation for my procedure, I lost sight of these very exciting milestones.

And then the recovery took over fast and furiously. The flowers? They didn’t fix my day, my mood, or my wound(ed heart.) They didn’t erase the hard. They didn’t make everything suddenly okay. They didn’t magically turn me into a glowing, productive human. But I didn’t go back to the couch. The flowers gave me just enough strength. Just enough energy. Just enough oomph to do a little work. They gave me just enough warmth and oomph to not lose the entire day to the couch.

They brought me back to life a little. Made me feel a little less sorry for myself. A little more seen. A little more able. Simply stated, they interrupted the gray. They brought in a little orange.

And that? Oh, the irony. Because what that moment did to me? That feeling. That pause. That tiny shift in the middle of a gray moment? That is all I’m going to say for now. Except this: It reminded me exactly why I’m building what I’m building. Why I’m so excited. Why I believe it’s needed. Why I cannot WAIT to share more.

My only wish? That I had 48 hours in a day, a team of 100 people, and fewer gray moments interrupting the progress. But alas. We build anyway. One step at a time. As Orange Rhinos do.

Sending my warmth and a little oomph.
xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

How Do You Find Your Voice Again After Years of Turning It Down?

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“How do you start turning up your own voice when it feels like it’s been turned down so much you can barely hear it anymore?” That question came from a fellow Orange Rhino. And my heart skipped a beat when I read it because… that was me. Circa 2016 until… well… still working on it. For years I slowly turned my own volume down. Pushing my thoughts down. Pushing my feelings down.

Meanwhile the “you’re not…” voices (fill in the blank with any doubting thought) got louder and louder. And the antenna of my intuition? It went from strong and upright… to bent and quiet. (cue: tears) Those weren’t fun years. In trying not to feel pain, I created more of it. I made decisions that honored others but ignored what my gut knew to be true.

And the outcomes almost always disappointed me. I took forever to make decisions because I forgot how to trust myself. I forgot how to believe in my abilities.

So I stayed stuck. Stuck feeling blech. Stuck living a life shaped by decisions that didn’t quite feel like me. And the self-doubt only grew because I kept asking myself: “Why don’t I trust myself?” “Why don’t I listen to myself anymore?” So yes. That question hit a nerve. A beautiful one. My friend, the answer is this: You start slowly. With love. With patience. And with the understanding that you won’t always get it right.

But over time, you get better. And that practice? That is getting it right. During my kitchen renovation there was a major mistake coming. I saw it before it even happened.

But my voice? I quieted it (and paid for it later. Sigh.) “Nah… trust the professionals,” I told myself. Right. Trust the professionals.

But here’s the thing I finally realized: I am the professional of my inner instincts. Of my feelings. Of the quiet voice inside trying to speak up.

When the renovation was finished, major mistake corrected, I stood in my cozy, bright white kitchen that I loved. I admired all the little details I had been told not to do.

And I said to myself: “You did this. You did this by listening to yourself.” I remember calling my mom and saying, “And you know what mom? I designed it. When am I going to start listening to myself more? Trusting my abilities again? Seeing what I’m capable of?” I wasn’t bragging. I was having a breakthrough.

So how do you start turning your voice back up and having your own breakthrough? You PR (don’t ask how my brain came up with that, but honestly, perfect here!) Practice. Reflect. Praise. Record. Patiently Repeat. Practice by showing up for yourself and trying to listen. It might be small. “I want tacos for dinner.” So… tacos it is. Reflect when something feels off. Ask yourself why. Then ask again. And again. (Often, if I’m honest, the answer hiding underneath is fear.) Praise and record the moments you do listen.

“See? I did it.” “See? I followed through.” “See? I trusted myself.” Give that quiet voice evidence. Proof that it’s getting stronger. Help it feel safe speaking up again. And most importantly… patiently repeat.

Because your voice doesn’t come back all at once. It comes back in tiny moments of trusting yourself. A decision here. A boundary there. A quiet “no.” A brave “yes.” Until one day you notice something surprising. You can hear yourself again. And you realize the voice you thought you lost? It was never missing. It was just waiting for you to start listening again. And you realize, my gosh, this feels great. Let’s start now.

What’s one thing your inner voice kept telling you… that you finally listened to — and it turned out you were right? I want to hear all about it and celebrate with you. For real.

Sending my warmth to you today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Why a Post About Kindness Made People Unfollow Me

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Truth? It’s both hysterical and sad. My kindness post from the other day is one of my most viewed. It thanked the people who showed up for me. It honored vulnerability. It talked about how one small act can shift everything. And I’m being unfollowed at a massive rate because of it. That part makes me laugh. And shake my head. And feel a little sad. I didn’t realize talking about kindness was such a lightning rod.

I mean, I guess I did mention skin cancer. And I mentioned crying. And yep, I mentioned having my head shaved. All those things are on the heavier side which can be a lot for some people.

So maybe I kinda get it. Here’s the thing though. I will never stop being vulnerable. The personal messages I’ve received? Worth every unfollow. And here’s the part that really matters: You know who didn’t unfollow me? Me. I used to shudder at unfollows. Now? I feel stronger from it, safer even. I want to be surrounded by people who lift each other up. I want US to be surrounded by the same.

And I want to call out kindness when I see it. I want to talk about heavy when it’s heavy. All without wondering if people will judge me, understand me, or secretly roll their eyes at me. I want to live a fully authentic, aligned life. A life where I acknowledge that it is both/and. A life where I embrace gray and celebrate orange.

And I plan to keep spreading this message because I think it’s needed. Desperately. So, if you want picture perfect, always light and lovely posts, I’m not your gal. That’s okay. If you want honest, human, warm — I so hope you stay. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Plus, some really cool things are coming. They are delayed, but they are coming.

And I simply can not wait to share them with all of you and have you share them with the world.

Sending my warmth out to you all today, and everyday,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Perimenopause According to My 14-Year-Old: The Conversation That Made Me Cry Laughing

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I had the best laugh with my 14 year old last night and I have to share it. I am beyond sure you are all going to appreciate it.

Now, this conversation happened out of curiosity and everything was said with love, earnest, and well let’s face it pure honesty, gosh darn truth and genius. If you are in perimenopause or menopause, get ready to chuckle. A little back story.

Recently, one of my sons asked me why I cry so much lately. Another one nodded and said, “yeah mom, like seriously, what’s going on? Are you, like, all depressed or something?”

I explained to them the obvious – that I’m sad with their old brother going to college – but also that I’m going through perimenopause and a lot of physical changes are happening along with my hormones (like theirs) being all sorts of out of whack. I said this means I also cry a heck of a lot easier, sometimes I’m a little less energetic or down – not depressed, just down – and that I’m indeed a little bit snappier.

All that to say… Two nights ago, as I washed the dishes in pure silence (yes, it was beautiful and yes, I was far from complaining that I was doing it by myself, again, pure silence!) my 14 year old wandered into the kitchen. I don’t think I had been particularly moody that day or had cried a lot; at least not in front of him. I guess I was wrong. “So mom, how long does this menopause thing last?” he asked sweetly.

“Oh, I don’t know, a couple of years, I’ve heard. At least five of having full blown symptoms.” I replied. (I picked an easy, low answer. I didn’t want to, you know, scare the crap out of him)

“I see. And what exact year are you in?” He asked, again, in all seriousness.

I chuckled. “Oh sweetie, THAT IS THE BEST PART! I have no idea!! I could be in year 1, year 2, year 0 of 10. Isn’t this fun?! Oh and by the way, I’m actually in perimenopause which is the phase before menopause.” I replied, again laughing.

I didn’t take offense. What else can I do but laugh?! He looked at me and said as deadpan as can be, “Wait. So this mood of yours, like, we’re stuck with it for five more years?!”

I laughed and honestly, I really haven’t been that awful. “YEP! But I’m doing my best to manage it. Don’t forget, I’m also under extra stress with your brother heading out and running the house renovation. It’s gonna get better. Promise.”

“Uh huh. Yeah.”

As he walked away, I yelled after him, “Sweetie, don’t forget, I’m not in menopause, I’m in my METAMORPHOSIS!” The other night, this sweet child had accidentally called menopause metamorphosis when he couldn’t remember the word (he flips words around just like me.) And honestly, is that not the BEST mistake ever?!!!

Heck yes I am in a metamorphosis!!! I’m trapped inside a frigging (cold for me, hot for many of you) cocoon and transforming into a new version of me that is going to fly freer than EVER when I bust out. I’m coming out more colorful than before. I inched my way in because I wasn’t living my fully authentic self and was weighed down, but now?

Now that I am living more and more of who I want to be? And following my heart more? Oh, oh heck yes I am in a metamorphosis and transforming into the best version of myself. Bring. It. On. When Gray Happens we go there and add a splash of color to brighten it up! You know, years ago, I made a gray rhino orange. That was my first metamorphosis 😉 I decided to transform from charging when frustrated, overwhelmed, worried and well, angry to responding with warmth.

Gray–>Orange. And now, now I am more than ever paying attention to that transformation because perimenopause is indeed – as my son clearly has noticed – making me a little crankier 😉 Anywho, I hope these two little stories made you smile. They will always make me chuckle. Kids, teens, they say the darndest things. How goes your metamorphosis?!

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if today is feeling more inching forward than flying free.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

How to Bring the Feeling of the Beach Home When You Don’t Live There

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I don’t live at the beach. I live one hour away from a decent beach, two hours away from my favorite beach, and a four hour plane ride away from a tropical beach.

But oh, oh I dream of living at the beach and waking up to the sound of the waves and the colors of an orange and pink sunrise. The beach is my happy place. My sanctuary. It’s the place where stress instantly leaves my body, my thoughts instantly settle, my mind instantly finds clarity or creativity, and my whole being instantly finds peace.

Since I currently can’t up and move to the beach, and quite frankly I don’t think I will ever be able to afford my dream oceanfront beach house, I decided to make my house in the suburbs, a beach house.

There have been a few times when I have asked friends and neighbors who are designers to help me pick out a new couch or curtains because I was overwhelmed with too many little kids 😉 They asked about colors and this and that. I always answered, “I’m going for an ocean, beach feel. This is my beach house.”

Every time the answer was, “But this isn’t a beach house.”

Every time I answered, “I know, but it’s my beach house.”

This past summer, I saw this pillow and I immediately bought it. It now sits in my front hall for everyone to see when they walk in the door. It cracks me up and brings me so, so much joy. I was somewhat sad to pack it away last night as I put out the Christmas pillows. (You all know how much I love, and live for, decorating for Christmas.) In fact, I took it right back out.

My house is a beach house year round because it makes me happy. I don’t care what anyone thinks. Life is what we make it. What we dream it to be. IF we let it be that. IF we don’t succumb to other’s rules of how we should live. IF we stand by what we want and don’t people please. 

Same with our homes. Our homes, our homes are what we make them, are what we want them to be, what we need them to be. They don’t need to be fancy or decorative or on trend. They need to make us feel happy, warm. Hopefully they can feel like a sanctuary and bring us peace.

Whether it be from the paint colors or the softness of the couch.
Or the systems we use to ease the chaos of the day to day.
Or from the people we love and the memories we create together.
Or even from us, and the energy we bring because we’re living a life we love, and living by following our hearts, our wishes. I’m working on creating a life I love so that that energy flows over into our home.

I’m also working on making my home, our home, feel like a sanctuary. This community is one piece of my plan;) This pillow is just one piece of my home plan!

But it’s an important piece. It might say “Welcome to our Beach House” but what it also says is, “Welcome to a ‘Believe in Yourself’ and ‘What You Need to Feel Good’ House.” This pillow is such a beautiful reminder of how good it feels to follow my heart. And by the way, everyone smiles when they walk in and see it;) The irony isn’t lost and in fact, I think it’s admired. What have you done recently to follow your heart, despite what others said, and as a result found peace and joy?

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you too, like me, are working every day to listen to your heart more and more and listen less to others’ “should’s.”

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

The Word I Never Thought I’d Use to Describe Myself

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The minute the word came off of my tongue, I stopped right in my tracks. “Did I really just say THAT word?” I asked myself. “Me, Sheila? I used that word, ever so nonchalantly? WHOA. Time out Celtics!”

Don’t worry. It wasn’t a bad word, or a word that I would correct my teenagers from using and then bust into a not-lecture-but-totally-a-lecture filled with “when I was a kid we never said those words and how is that word normalized and I’m worried about your generation” vibes.

I mean, it was the F word… but a good F word. A happy word even. Actually, it was several words strung together, a phrase! Are you ready for it?

“I had a lot of FUN today….”

F…U…N…FUN! I had just walked in the door with my boys from camp/work pick up and said, “I had a lot of fun today, who wants to see what I worked on?” I literally couldn’t believe I used the word fun. I was just so excited and wanted to share my joy.

Besides, of the three kids with me (one kiddo is still sick) one is artsy, one is into design and one is into math. I thought they might be interested in my excitement. Spoiler alert: (1) I was talking to teens and (2) exhaustion from camp made their interest a big NO. Which was fine, I got right back to my project and right back to having… MORE FUN. The project? I was drawing new floor plans for our kitchen/mudroom.

After two architects falling through because of personal reasons, I’m now waiting on a third one, and well, I got tired of waiting for the project to start.

So, I ever so happily took matters into my own hands. Ever. So. Happily. Cabinets are falling off the wall. Appliances are leaking and breaking. This project can’t wait any longer. Besides, I always wanted to be an architect. I have loved design and homes and creating beauty since I was a little girl. Floor designs bring my love of math, my love of puzzles, and my love of beauty all together in one place.

So, with my tracing paper out, my pencil in one hand, my architectural ruler in another, I started drawing line, after line, after line. I was in heaven as I imagined and re-imagined, drew and erased.

The only thing never erased? My happiness or my clarity about how much I love design. I was so at peace. I was challenged, in a good way. I was fulfilled as I finished one concept, ready to go on to the next. I was happy. I was having fun, so much fun. It was glorious. It isn’t that I don’t have fun. I do.

I had fun last week when my friend came over and we floated in the pool and just chatted.

I had fun talking on the phone with my best friend the other day.

I had fun joking yesterday morning when I called up to my almost 18 year old to see if he was ready and his reply was, “Oh good morning, I see you’ve had your coffee mom.” And I replied, “Oh yes, I have, shall we see if your brother has?!” But in general, in general, I wouldn’t say that I would describe my life as “fun.” That’s a bummer.

That’s now really how I want to live. I don’t need to be a party animal. I don’t need to have boat loads of fun everyday.

But I do want to have some fun everyday. I do want to do MORE of WHAT I ENJOY, more often. It isn’t that I am actively choosing not to. It isn’t that I am over-prioritizing the kids and yada. It’s just that, to be honest,

  1. I’m still honing in on activities, hobbies and experiences that bring me true enjoyment! Yes, I know what I like, but as my kids have gotten older and I have returned to having more time to myself, I am just getting back to more time for me! I know some of them. Photography. Arranging floral bouquets. Going to the beach. Celebrating others and doing random acts of kindness. Bowling. Watching the sunrise. Hiking. House design. Cake decorating. Writing, creating, designing, doing anything related, like interacting with you all:)
  2. I forget to stop and do the above activities! I get so caught up in managing the household, in doing this and doing that, that I don’t stop and do things that I enjoy. I know, I know. I need to schedule them. Routines and schedules and systems, well, I’m working on getting into them;) #ADHDlife
  3. On top of all this, I’ve been asking myself some hard questions lately, like:
    + Which activities can I do here and there to get bursts or fun and…
    + Which activities could I get lost in for hours?
    + Which activities could I do more often, for longer, so I can really say, yes, my life is fun, because I LOVE what I do?

FUN is all relative. Fun is different for me today than it was years ago and even one year ago. And it’s different for me than it is for you. What is the same for all of us, and the same today, and in the past, and yes and in the future, is what we all need. Fun fuels the soul.

I felt SOOO good yesterday. So good. What will you do today that will be fun? That will light you up? Do tell below! And if you can’t do it, tell us anyway. Believe it or not, it’s a trick that will make your brain even feel a little bit better.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you too are in the process of getting back to yourself and getting back to adding more fun, on your terms, into your day. The Orange Rhino * another unedited stream of consciousness, without a full cup of coffee post, reflecting a current challenge I am processing so that I can keep moving forward towards being the me I want to be and living the life I want to live.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When a Teen Health Scare Changes the Way You See Everything

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I experienced the most beautiful thing Friday afternoon with my son. Two weeks earlier, I had experienced a most scary moment with him. This son eats, breathes, lives for volleyball, plays year round. He was on the court for the first game of the high school season. I turned to his younger brother, who is just getting into the game, and said, “Something doesn’t look right. Your brother looks gray. He looks out of it. He must not have slept well.”

Just then, the ball headed to him. He positioned his body to hit it. Now, he has done this loads of times in the same gym, same lighting conditions. Folks, he completely whiffed. Not a little, but a heck of a lot.

And it wasn’t just an oops, “I misjudged and had a bad swing.” It was a, “what just happened to me” kind of miss. Afterwards, he blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes. He looked up to the stands, scanning the crowd for me. Once he spotted me, he started motioning to me, pointing to his eyes, mouthing something to me which I of course couldn’t understand seeing as I was far away from him but I loved that he was trying to communicate with me 🙂 I was so grateful to be there, to have witnessed that event.

It was unsettling to say the least. But I was glad to be able to see it with my own eyes. The game continued. He did not play well. He was completely off. Something clearly was bothering his eyes, his head. The game ended and he rushed over to me.

“Mom, mom. I need to go to a doctor. I feel like I am going to pass out. I can’t stand the bright lights. My head hurts.” Indeed, his eyes were completely dilated. Of course he couldn’t stand the lights.

“What happened on the court?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I lost track of the ball. Everything went blurry. I couldn’t see it. It’s like what happened right before spring vacation.” I’ve had vision problems for years and ended up at a neuro-ophthalmologist in NYC to help me out. It’s unsettling when everything goes blurry and it hurts like heck under bright lights.

I took him to the pediatrician the next day and he cleared him of the major stuff (no concussion, no medications, anxiety attack, etc…) and agreed with the eye specialist I had set for Thursday…and neurologist for potential ocular migraines like me, or more.

It was a miracle that we got an eye appointment within two days. This doctor is normally at least six months but my son’s symptoms were deemed emergency.

Now, he always had an ever so slight nearsighted diagnosis, but not worthy of glasses or cause of symptoms. Turns out, it changed.

But barely…just enough for glasses…but not the cause of the symptoms. “Get glasses, but also get to a neurologist,” the eye doctor said to us. Swell, I thought. Another appointment to fight for.

So good news, but not total relief news. But good enough news. Because it’s what brings me to the most beautiful part of the story. Friday I took my son to pick up his glasses. I wish I had video. You know those videos of babies hearing for the first time? Or seeing for the first time? Where you just can’t help but cry?

Okay, imagine a teenager who doesn’t smile a lot. Now, put glasses on him for the first time in his life. Then, add the biggest, shite eating grin ever. And leave it on there for at least an hour. Or longer.

“MOM! OMG! Everything is so clear! The colors are so bright! OMG! OMG! I can see so well!” He. Couldn’t. Stop. Smiling. It was so incredibly beautiful. The optometrist was smiling. I was crying (discreetly of course, because you know, with teens in public lol.) Another mom was smiling, telling me when her daughter got her pair of glasses.

It was beautiful beyond words. Beyond words. I’m tearing up now thinking about it. I love this kid and how much he appreciates the beauty in the world. While the glasses don’t provide a total explanation of his symptoms, they do provide a little relief from the total stress of the situation. They do provide some clarity, some peace and for that I am grateful. For me, for him. It’s been just a few days with his glasses and my son is still smiling EVEN THOUGH he doesn’t love how he looks.

I mean, he’s a teenager with a little acne and now with glasses. BUT he can see the world in a better light and that is making everything a little bit better. How’s that for inspiring? We don’t always have to be 100% positive. Nope. But how about just see things in a little bit better of a light so that we can handle things, so that we can endure the hard things – the long waits for answers, the getting through tough challenges, the exhausting new parenting seasons – just a little bit better? Not ignore the hard things, not, not talk about them. Just adjust our mindsets, our views, our actions so that we can handle the hard stuff a little bit easier.

It just feels so much better to feel BOTH. The hard stuff and then add in some good stuff too. Like seeing the beauty in life a little more clearly. The sun is shining here again today. Gosh, I’m grateful. It’s cheesy as all get out. I know.

But I’m going to absorb all the happiness of seeing and feeling the sunshine I can get today. I need it to help me get through this week. What beauty can you fully absorb today? What do you find utterly beautiful? Or what do you create that’s beautiful?

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

What an Eclipse Taught Me About Connection and Being Present

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For me, the coolest part about the eclipse…wasn’t the eclipse. It was what the event achieved in totality. (See what I did there lol?) The eclipse brought people together.

Generations.
Families.
Teachers.
Students.
Strangers.

It got people outside, off their phones, to open spaces where they sat on benches, picnic blankets, beach chairs and just waited, patiently without urgency. It (mostly) put errands on pause, work on pause, appointments on pause. It gave people something positive to talk about, something scientific, artistic, beautiful, fascinating.

The total eclipse didn’t just create a direct connection between the sun and the moon, it helped create a connection between people. And my gosh, we all need more moments like yesterday. More positive interactions with people that bring us together, help us to pause, to slow down, to find common ground – with people we know, and don’t.

Just look at social media and all the genuine, happy, photos. You can see the relaxation, the joy. You can feel it radiating off the screen. I saw it and felt it everywhere.

On our local village green.

In front of our library where people gathered around a telescope.

When two little kids greeted their dad as he exited the train station and handed him eclipse glasses and one exclaimed, “you’ll see the moon!”

I myself, had a beautiful interaction with a stranger. I had just hopped out of my car at my son’s physical therapy appointment. I had been taking pictures from my window

“Did you actually get any good ones?” He asked.

“I did! I put the lens from the eclipse glasses on my camera and that helped. Here check these out!”

And then we looked at them together. It was awesome. It took an ordinary moment I would have otherwise shared by no one and made it a little more extraordinary.

And then I went into my son’s appointment and shared the pictures with my son, his therapist and another older gentleman and we all connected over the eclipse and the good ‘ole iPhone vs my Samsung debate! I didn’t get to enjoy the eclipse with all my kids which was a total bummer. They did get to watch it at school though (thank you school for providing glasses for everyone and taking the kids outside!) But we did talk about it…and we did all at least have our connection moment when we attempted to stay up late to watch UConn totally win the title…again. (Yep, UConn basketball family here.)

I gotta be honest. Going into the eclipse, I was all, “what’s the hype. Is it over yet?” Now that it’s over, I gotta say, “Yes, it was beautiful, cool and fun to watch and worth the hype.” Not just because it brought people together, but because it reminded me to slow down and enjoy the bright, warm moments that are happening around me, in spite of the darker ones.

I was going to skip out on the whole eclipse thing. I’m so glad that I didn’t. It was just the heartwarming experience my heart needed. It was a total eclipse of the heart;) (sorry, not sorry, couldn’t resist) and the energy the entire experience gave off, set me up for a nice night with my family. And we needed it.

We all need connection. Genuine connection. It helps us endure the harder times. What will you do today to connect with others? Doesn’t have to be big. It can simply be having a conversation with the barista, complimenting someone on their outfit and sharing joy over spring clothes, or calling a friend.

Or chat with me! Link to set up a call with me in the comments! I have a few openings in the next week to talk for 15 minutes or so. I miss talking with you all. Those chit-chats were the bright spots of my week! Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always,

 

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Skin Cancer Scars: They Don’t Have to Be Beautiful to Be Survivable

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Scars hurt. They aren’t always beautiful. But we handle them and heal from them. “It will just be a scar. I can handle a scar.” I confidently said to my dermatologist. This wasn’t my first time having a biopsy on my face and probably won’t be my last. I’ve had basal cell skin cancer on my forehead and my lower eyelid.

And now likely dead center on my nose. I joked that I love Christmas so looking like Rudolph for a few weeks if I have a procedure to remove the skin cancer cells won’t be the end of the world. In all seriousness, as skin cancer is very serious, as my doctor and I discussed the options, I meant what I said when I told him I could handle the procedure and the scars. Yes – scars. The location of this problem area probably means they will need to take skin from my forehead to patch my nose.

So I will have two scars. There were other options but none guaranteed cancer free and given my history, I wanted, no needed, guarantee.

So I wanted the biopsy – even if it came back negative. The scar was worth the risk. Even if it meant pain (which it did.) Even if it looks not so beautiful (which it doesn’t, and which it won’t.) It is just a scar. A scar and the pain that caused it, will pass. I will not remember the pain I felt or the ugliness I saw in the mirror. Pain is temporary. It still might come and go as the scar fades, but eventually it will barely be noticeable. A scar will fade.

At first, when the scar is ever present and I can’t bear the sight, worst case, I can apply make up. I can find a way to make do for the moment.

But as time passes, it will fade and barely be noticeable. I will look in the mirror and have to search to see the marks. And one day, I will forget to search at all. A scar is part of my history. Yes, these scars remind me that I should have listened to my mother about wearing hats as a kid. They also remind me of all my fun times I had at the lake in New Hampshire growing up AND all the fun times I have had at the beach with my kids as a grown up.

And there is more. A scar inspires me. It reminds me that I can handle pain and come out the other side. It reminds me that I can look in the mirror, feel uncomfortable and build self-confidence around the notion that beauty is on the inside. It reminds me that the past is the past, we live, we learn, we do better, we move forward.

A scar reminds me to find the “orange” in the situation…the fun memories that did happen in the sun, the new opportunities to finally learn how to apply makeup, the fun chances to shop for awesome hats and sunglasses (OR to create a line of them….) Scars, physical or emotional, are a part of life. They hurt. They can be ugly. But we get through them. We heal.

Sending warmth and strength to you all today and a loving reminder to wear hats and sunglasses.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino