As long as you are alive, breathing, sharing, loving
and just being here in the present time, there is
Hope is something shared with all humans being
on Earth. Though daily struggles and sometimes
overwhelming situations, events occur, the Hope
for a better day is more of an outlook for a better
tomorrow. Symbols of Hope are the Swallow, Dove
and Anchor. Some of the poorest people living on
this Earth today, who have little food, and even
scarcer means of collecting it to feed themselves
and families, have Hope. They have to.
There was never a night or a problem that could
defeat sunrise or hope. Isn't the dawn of a new day,
really new hope? We must accept finite
disappointment, but never lose infinite Hope. MLK.
Hope is being able to see that there is light despite
all of the darkness. The expression, it is always
darkest before dawn, again speaks of Hope.
Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement.
Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.
Helen Keller. Without Hope for Peace, for more
Love, for our children, for our families we wouldn't
strive for a better tomorrow.
"There is a saying in Tibetan, 'Tragedy should be
utilized as a source of strength.
No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful
experience is, if we lose our hope, that's our real
disaster." Hope just is. a part of being Human.
👉Boa noiteeee!!! Como vcs estão? .
🙆Eu estou fechando minha segunda feira com essa pizza fit!!! Que tal???
🍕Ingredientes - Massa
👉1 ovo 👉1 clara👉1 cs de farinha de aveia cheia👉1 cs rasa de farinha de maracujá👉sal .
CONFERE OS #stories
PS: vou atualizar aqui depois! .
🍕Recheio- fica 100% a seu critério! Nessa usei queijo, tomate, cebola, orégano, peito de peru( prefiro frango mas num tinha hoje) e molho de tomate como base.
Sunshine ☀️ I needed the warmth of the sun. I needed the light on my skin. I needed the fresh air. I needed to breathe in the blue sky and breathe out the darkness.
There have been some dark days. I have felt trapped. I’ve been stuck inside feeling caged in by my emotions and today I chose to go outside and soak in the sun.
I was careful. I walked slowly. I was scared of falling. I had lots of knee pain, but despite all of it I enjoyed the light and felt better. I chose the light. I found my joy.
Flicking through my journals this morning:
I never realised the power that food wields in a culture until I lived in Korea. Up until that point, I had grown up on tuna casseroles, devon or mortadella sandwiches slathered with tomato sauce, vegemite or crumbly cheese sandwiches (always), spaghetti bolognese, or fish and chips. Whatever was simple and easy for mum to regimentally organise for six children. My childhood seems to have been scarred by the potent, pungent scent of fermenting cabbage, an offering made by my mum and dad’s Korean friends, who would present us with the weird dish, along with yellow pickles and warm bowls of rice. For a five-year-old who had screamed and hollered that she didn't want to learn Korean, and didn’t want to play the piano, I was the Korean who didn’t want to be Korean, who looked Korean, but didn’t feel it, who had an Anglo Saxon name and only wanted to look and be like her white friends.
It wasn’t until my early twenties when I made the move to South Korea did the importance of food harness me to the country that I had lost as a result of my adoption. Whilst babies are in their mother’s wombs, they acquire the palate of foods that the mother ingests. The cognitive and psychological boundaries and walls that I had erected in my childhood surrounding anything Korean and ‘Asian’ were not powerful enough against the full immersion into my birth culture. Food was the first thing that I ravenously latched onto, enamoured by all the sesame-seed infused smells, surely scents and tastes that had swum around me in the amniotic fluid as a grew in my mother’s womb. The olfactory, gestating, and only remaining dormant in the phantom limb of grief and loss. And so I ate bimbimbap and samgyupsal and samgyetang and bulgogi and pajeon and drank makkeoli and soju and plum wine and ate soondubu jjigae and kimchi jjigae and kimbap...Food to fill a loss.
Can you know a place through food? A place that you had not known until you were twenty-five? I think you can.