Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…

Leave a comment

Finding shine.

I suppose it’s only natural to get used to things. Even the things we dreamed about for years can become ordinary while living them. And we all want to be comfortable. There’s nothing wrong with that. But the shine, I don’t want to lose that. So I make the small changes. Daily.

It might sound silly, but for me, it’s the little things. I change the painting in my direct view from the breakfast table. And this brand new, this shiny comfort, reflects my smile, and the day begins. 

After lunch is my usual reading time. I switch up the place. Moving daily from chair, to bed, to outdoor hammock. Yesterday’s sun jumped off the pages as I swayed above the grass. 

Being my mother’s daughter, it is not only my joy, but my responsibility, to change my clothes frequently throughout the day. The more challenging the day, the more changes. I will hold the conversation in my head. Clutching my pearls, sometimes real, sometimes imaginary. Humbly offering my thanks. Accepting the worked-for shine that only a mirror and a mother’s memory can reflect.

Now some might say, well it’s easy for you, you live in a beautiful country. You have inspiration all around. Yes, that’s true. But I don’t eat breakfast under the Eiffel Tower each morning. I, like everyone else, am not given a reason to get out of bed…I (we) have to get out of bed and go find that reason every day.

I don’t know what today will bring. I’m not even sure what I’ll wear, or how long I’ll wear it. The clouds overhead say, “you’re on your own today.” I smile. “I’ve got this,” I say. And set out to find my shine.


My heart beats in red.

We used to differentiate our toothbrushes by color. It was something if, for the lifecycle of your toothbrush, you had your desired color. Mine was red. I suppose it was because red was also my favorite flavor. Red jelly beans. Red Jello. Red popsicles. To brush my teeth in the same “flavor,” seemed quite the event.

I was listening to a podcast yesterday with two tech guys. One was laughing because he was receiving a text on his watch from his toothbrush, informing him that it was time to replace the brush heads. Yes, his smart toothbrush was communicating with his smart watch.

Perhaps thinking that my toothbrush was smart if it matched the sugar on my tongue pales in comparison. But not for me. Because I thought I had everything. Standing waist high next to my mother in front of the bathroom sink, singing the happy birthday song for timing, with pink foam around my lips, my world was complete. My brain, my heart, felt so very smart.

This is not to say that technology isn’t fantastic. I’m using it right now to tell you this story. But I am sure of one thing, nothing will ever replace relationships. To start and end your day with someone who knows your every flavor, and loves you because of and still — this is an irreplaceable knowledge.

So if you ask me, “You think you’re pretty smart?” I can only answer, “Well, I do wake up with the one I love…”