An Introduction

Welcome to my little corner of the internet.

My name is Jennifer, as you may have gathered already, and I am at the time of writing this, a 43 year old blind woman living on the east coast of Canada. Professionally, I am a registered massage therapist and recreationally a writer, though up until recently I haven’t been writing as much as I wanted to, or at all.

Most people are curious about the blind thing. To be precise, I have zero vision in my right eye, and light perception in my left along with the ability to see colour and sometimes motion if the light is just right. Too dark, and obviously I get nothing, but that also happens if it’s too bright. I haven’t always had this level of vision. In fact I have both had much more and much less, running the gamut from 20/80 (almost enough to drive) to utter darkness, though the right eye has been blind since roughly age five or six. I’m of the mindset that I don’t focus on what I’ve lost, but rather what I’ve gained back.

The massage therapy thing is a career I took on in my thirties. I’d wanted to pursue it for a long time, but never did. Right up until I decided that enough was enough. I’ve been doing it for six years now, and absolutely love it. I like people, or at least I like people in one on one or very small group interactions, and this career path lets me help and also get to know a variety of interesting and wonderful folks. Yes, it is hard work, but it’s also almost insanely fulfilling.

As to the writing, I’ve been doing it since I was a child. I’ve always been a bookworm, and my mother encouraged me to write. She insists that I won a lot of writing contests when I was young, though I’m convinced she’s mixing my sister and I up, as she’s also exceedingly skilled with words. The only contest I remember winning was in the summer before I started ninth grade, and involved writing a ghost story which, if I recall correctly, was called The Will and The Orb. Which now seems a bit pretentious, but I was fourteen, so allowances must be made.

I’ve written short stories on and off, more often than not leaving them unfinished as I ran out of steam or got distracted. I’ve always wanted to write a book, but if you think a short story was hard for me to finish, imagine me going for a novel?

Since starting the massage thing, I’ve written a lot less. I get the ideas, but tend to just daydream about them and leave them at that, while simultaneously telling myself that I could write a darned good book some day and of course get it published. The book you never write can safely be thought of as a sure winner. But 100% of the books you never write aren’t going to see the light of day.

Recently, though, I’ve decided that once again enough is enough. To paraphrase a recent Facebook post I made, writing is like a muscle. If you don’t use it, it atrophies. If you want to strengthen it you have to consistently use it.

I set myself a goal. Write something every day. Even if it’s only a paragraph. Even if it’s only a snippet of dialogue for something else. Because I do want to write a book, but a whole book is really, really intimidating. But writing a paragraph isn’t. It is the kind of goal I can meet, and I have. For a week and a half, I have written at least one paragraph a day. More often than not, I write a lot more than that. It’s all been book-related, but it doesn’t need to be.

That’s where this blog comes in. Here, I’ll be writing about a lot of things. About being blind, and the humour that can bring as well as the harder things, though I more often than not see the humour rather than the struggles. About working in my industry. About writing itself. About things that interest me. I’ve decided not to set a certain focus at the outset, though I make no promises that that will always be the case.

So. Deep breath, best foot forward, and let’s see where this goes.

Rewriting The Magic – My Thoughts On Splash Mountain

Last Thursday, the good folks at Disney announced that a classic ride was going to be rethemed. Splash Mountain, currently themed to the movie Song Of The South, was going to be rehauled to a Princess And The Frog theme at an unspecified future date.

This announcement sparked controversy, as is the case with every single change Disney ever makes to the parks, though this one has some serious connotations.

For my thoughts on change in the parks, and I suppose in general, I invite you to read this post from last year: https://jennifermorash.com/2019/08/07/how-winnie-the-pooh-taught-me-to-let-go/ Actually, you should read it, it’s probably my favourite past post.

History Of Splash Mountain

Splash Mountain debuted at Disney Land in 1989, and at Disney World and Tokyo Disney in 1992. The California version reused animatronics from the America Sings attraction and was located in Critter Country near its border with New Orleans Square. In Disney World, they placed it in Frontier Land, while Tokyo Disney also placed their version in a Critter Country area.

Splash Mountain combines the traditional Disney dark ride in a boat system with a log flume, and follows the adventures of Br’er Rabbit and his encounters with Br’er Fox and Br’er Bear. Most of the ride is slow, taking the rider through scenes with a few smallish drops, but comes outside at the end for the big drop.

Song Of The South

Released in 1946, Song Of The South is a combined live action and animation film based around the Uncle Remus books by Joel Chandler Harris. It takes place in Georgia during the Reconstruction Era.

The plot more or less centers around Uncle Remus, a freedman, telling stories to a wealthy young white boy staying at his grandparents’ plantation for the summer. Those stories are the animated segments.

I will make one clarification in the movie’s defense, and only one: it does not depict outright, actual slavery, as some people assume it does. It isn’t stated anywhere in the film that it takes place during Reconstruction, but it does, according to the book. It’s easy to think that it does, however, and that alone can be damaging.

That said… this movie is quite horrendously racist. It glorifies the relationship between black plantation workers and their white “employers”, picturing it as this idyllic utopia where master and worker were both just as happy as could be.

Moreover, it makes use of an African American dialect as interpretted by white men, which was neither accurate or complimentary. It takes traditional African American folk tales (the Uncle Remus tales were originally that before being transcribed into a book) and appropriates them for the use of white men.

The film is beautiful visually for its time, and I admit does have a charm if you view it without the lens of history, but at its core it is racist and really offensive to both black people and supporters of black people.

Back To The Mountain

So, like I said, Splash Mountain took its theme only from the animated segments, so you only see animatronic animals having a grand old time. There is nothing racist or particularly problematic in the ride itself. I think that may be part of why some people find it hard to understand why others find it so offensive.

It’s not what the ride shows that’s the problem, it’s the fact that it is based on a movie so problematic that Disney has completely pulled it from the public. It has not, and never will be released on DVD, Blue Ray or on Disney Plus. The only way one can watch it is to track down an old VHS copy. Given how much Disney likes to play on nostalgia for older films, that should tell you something.

Moreover, it’s showing a set of once beloved folk stories and twisting them into propaganda for white supremacy. Or at least showing the end result of that. I don’t think for a moment that the talented imagineers who initially designed and built the ride meant to do anything of the sort, but ignorance isn’t a good excuse to keep something that isn’t right.

New Theme

The announcement has stated that the new theme is going to be the Princess And The frog movie, with Disney’s first black princess. This is a movie that took the old fairy tale and gave it a closer to contemporary twist. It doesn’t take place during the present day, but it isn’t medieval times, either. To be specific, it’s in 1926 New Orleans.

The ride is going to follow a story that begins after the final kiss of the movie and follows Princess Tiana and Prince Naveen as they prepare for a Mardi Gras performance. Details are, at this time, pretty scarce.

Arguments and Counter-Arguments

I’ve been hearing a few arguments over and over against this retheming. I’ve answered a lot of them in various places, but I want to address them here. Actually, this is why I wrote this particular blog, I just wanted to go into the background above first.

  1. It doesn’t fit the theme of Frontier Land!

This one is, technically, true. Louisianna isn’t exactly the western frontier. However, you know what else isn’t the western frontier? Reconstruction Era Georgia. The funny thing about this one is that it never even crossed my mind that the current Splash Mountain is a bit out of place until this issue came up. And the Disney Land (no announcement at this time about Tokyo Disney) will have a very fitting area for it. There’s loads of critters in that movie and, well, New Orleans Square is right there.

  1. There’s no waterfalls in Louisianna.

It’s true that the bayou isn’t exactly known for its waterfalls, but there actually is one in the movie. I only realized this today, though, while listening to the audio description of the end credits animation, but Tiana and Naveen do go over a waterfall there. Also, there is no reason that it needs to be a naturally occuring waterfall. Until we know where the drop portion fits into the story, I think we just have to trust Disney.

  1. But the ride isn’t racist.

Maybe, maybe not. I would say that being based on a very racist IP (intellectual property) does make it racist, but even if the ride shows no racism, it doesn’t change the fact that there is a ride at Disney that is extremely hurtful to a lot of people. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you’d like to see people being hurt so you can keep your favourite ride? Can you look them in the eye?

  1. But it’s a classic.

So was Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. So was The Scary Adventures of Snow White. So was Horizons. Those are all either gone or changed into something new, as are many other attractions. Walt never intended the parks to stay the same. Change is hard, but it’s going to keep happening. I get it, guys, I do. I loved Horizons and Mr. Toad quite dearly. I miss them. But I let them go. You can, too.

  1. Disney is just doing this to placate people.

Firstly, is that such a bad thing? If there is a public outcry for fixing something wrong, is it so bad to fix it? Secondly, while I think the surge in the Black Lives Matter movement in the wake of George Floyd’s murder may have spurred them to make the announcement, Disney stated in the press release that this has been in the works for over a year, and I believe them. There’s concept art, guys. Detailed concept art. You can’t whip up plans this detailed in that short of a time. I think they would have waited longer to announce it without recent events, but the plan was already there. This was going to happen.

  1. I’ll never get to ride my favourite ride again.

Yes, you will. I don’t think this is going to happen for awhile. Disney already has some enormous projects under construction, others that were announced but had their start delayed, and a whole bunch of lost revenue. There was no date or even vague time frame with the announcement, I don’t think that this thing is going to start being rethemed until at least 2022. Probably 2023. You may not want to go to the parks yet in our current Covid situation, but if you’re a diehard Disney fan you could likely get down there to say goodbye to Br’er Rabbit before the change begins.

Almost There

Whew. This has been a long one, but I’m almost done with my soapbox speech. Clearly, I’m in favour of this change. Actually, I’m excited about it. I’ve always loved the mechanics and ride system of Splash Mountain, and hated its theme. I saw Song Of The South as a child, though I couldn’t tell you what year. It must have been in its final theatrical run in the 80’s, as Disney used to re-release its old films to theatres every now and again before the rise of home media. Once I got old enough to understand what lay beneath that movie, I’ve been super uncomfortable with this ride. Did I ride it? Yes. Did I have fun? Yes, that drop is fun. Did I feel guilty? Yup.

This is a good thing. This is a right thing. The Princess And The Frog is a wonderful movie, and not just because it finally gave us a Princess that black kids could look at and see themselves in. It’s just plain great, and the music is fabulous.

And, hey, maybe now we’ll have beignets and mint julips in the Magic Kingdom, like they do out in California.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

Prose Garden

This is not poetry.

Poetry has a rhythm buried at its core Like a heart beat. Prose does not.

This is not poetry.

This is prose. This is a prose garden. Where the buds are words that bloom, in time, into flowers of sentances and beds of paragraphs.

This is a story.

This is my story. This might be your story. If you see yourself in it, then it is yours. Every story that I write might be yours.

This is the story of why I need to create.

This is not poetry.

I am made up of seeds. Seeds as countless as the stars in the night sky. Seeds as numerous as cliches.

Too many seeds for one mind to contain. The more they grow, the more room they take. Roots burrow deep into all the corners of my mind. Stems reach for freedem. The only way to get the space back is to transplant them. So I dig them up, roots and all, with care and love and give them a new home.

It might be an excisement, save that I do it with love for these growing word plants. Save that I do not toss them away. Some, I keep in my own secret garden, and some I send out into the world, where the can cross pollinate with other stories and cause seeds to start to grow in other minds.

My prose garden is beautiful. Sometimes it has thorns, though. Words can hurt.

But I write in order to save my sanity. And I write to save my growing little plants from dying an unnourished, overcrowded death. I write for the sake of the stories, and for the sake of myself and maybe for the sake of the world, who needs more gardens.

This is my garden of proses.

And this is not poetry.

(Okay, okay, a little bit of explaining. This is a piece I wrote for my thirty day writing challenge. We had to create “visionary art”. I’m not sure this is visionary, but it does break all sorts of rules. It’s a sort of freeform writing around the idea of telling the story of why I write.)

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

Kind Vs. Nice

Kind
a: of a sympathetic or helpful nature
was helped by a kind neighbor
They were very kind to us.
b: of a forbearing nature : gentle
kind treatment of animals
c: arising from or characterized by sympathy or forbearance
a kind act

Nice
a: pleasing, agreeable
a nice time
a nice person
b: virtuous, respectable
… I met nice girls whose skirts reached the ground.
— Jack London

The above definitions are taken from the Merriam-Webster dictionary (www.m-w.com). I did nab more examples of kind than of nice, but only because nice has a lot of meanings, and I didn’t think that being exact really fit the sort of niceness we’re talking about today.

So, in recent months I have taken to putting in a reminder at the end to be kind to yourself and kind to those you encounter. Times are difficult right now, the world could use a bit of kindness. I chose that word very deliberately. I just as deliberately have not been advising niceness.

To be frank, I have reached a point of saying “screw niceness”. To me, to be nice is to be polite, to be agreeable, to just get along and not cause waves. We, as a society, cannot do that anymore. I will no longer be nice.

If I see something that I disagree with, I will speak up. Now, I will do my utmost to do that in a respectful manner, I’m not out to verbally berate people who don’t agree with me, or badger anyone into compliance with my way of thinking. But I will speak my mind. Generally, this applies to the spreading of misinformation, fake facts, racism and statements of white privilege (such as “all lives matter”, because that statement does come from a place of privilege, even if you do mean it well) I’m not going to tear a strip off of you for not liking the same usic as I do.

On the other hand, now more than ever is a time to be kind. Be sympathetic and, more importantly, empathetic to those around you. Listen to what they say. And by listen, I don’t just mean “sit there and let them vent”. I mean actively listen. Think about what they’re saying and why they might be saying it.

If you have help to give, give it. This doesn’t mean “help people even at the cost of your own physical, financial or emotional well-being”. It just means that you can use the resources you have to help others.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is this: You should try your best to be kind, but you don’t always have to be nice.

So, be kind to yourself, and be kind to those around you.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

My Girl

Twelve years ago, I sat up late, all curled up on the sofa waiting for a phonecall from England. I was unwilling to go to bed for fear of sleeping through the ringing. When that phonecall finally came, I cried. My first niece had made her way into the world.

Three weeks later, I was on a plane to England to meet her, and it was love at first sight. She was so tiny and so, so perfect. I saw her again later in the summer when my sister brought her across the Atlantic to meet the clan. I remember singing her “Hippo In The Bathtub” when she cried, and every single time, she stopped. Possibly to wonder why I was making those weird noises.

Over the past twelve years, I’ve watched her grow. First into a rambunctious toddler, then into a doting big sister, then into a thoughtful, intelligent and creative young lady.

I’m so proud of her that sometimes, I feel like I might burst from it. As a kid, I was an avid reader, particularly of the fantasy genre. My niece has not only followed in her auntie’s footsteps, but surpassed me. Man. I thought I was an advanced reader, but this girl read the entire Harry Potter series by the time she turned seven.

I love giving her books, though it isn’t always what I go for. Actually, what I love the most is giving her books that I either loved at her age, or else ones I wish had been written when I was her age. A few summers back, she told me that her favourite books were the ones I gave her. I think it may be the best compliment I’ve ever been given.

She doesn’t just read, either. This girl can write. I think there may be some sort of genetic tendency for this endeavour, as her Mum is a published and talented poet. My neice has written both prose and poetry, and everything I’ve read from her has absolutely astounded me.

She’s a fantastic actress, too. Granted, I’ve never been lucky enough to attend a performance of hers, but I’ve been sent videos of her performances, and she treated me to a live rendition of a monologue (written by her, too) that had me laughing so hard.

Did I mention her musical ability? Because she’s got that, too. Before the current shutdown, she performed with some classmates in a band, and while I admit to auntly bias, they were really, really good.

She paints. She does synchronized swimming. She can rughook. And she’s only twelve years old. She blows my mind.

She is twelve today, and I don’t think I could be any more proud of her than I am. Of course, I’ve said that before, only for her to turn around and do some new, amazing thing, and I discover new depths of pride and love.

If I had one wish for her, it would be this: never, ever forget how special you are, and how many people love you. No matter where you go in life, no matter what you do, your Aunt Jenn is going to be right there, cheering you on. And bragging about you to anyone who will listen. (Seriously, kiddo, I do that. Like… all the time.)

Happy birthday, Clverkins. (That’s what I called you when you were tiny… I was right to do so, I see.)

((Note: If you are reading this and know my wonderful girl, and want to chime in to add your own praise in the comments, please do so, but I also ask you to protect her privacy. My choice to leave her name out of this was deliberate.)

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

Words

I don’t know what to say, here.

Maybe that’s an ironic openning line in a blog that clearly has more words after it, but it’s true nonetheless.

I just don’t know what to say. Because if the senseless, brutal death of a man doesn’t open your eyes to the fact that things have to change, nothing I have to say will do so.

Why did it ever need to come to this? Why haven’t the past senseless, brutal murders of people been enough to change things? Why haven’t the voices of people of colour crying out that they were scared for their very lives if confronted by a police officer change things?

And if you are sitting there, reading this and thinking that this is a problem that only happens somewhere else… you are wrong. People with black and brown skin in your communities almost certainly are afraid. They have grounds to be afraid.

And it has to stop. I, as a white woman, live a life of extreme privilege. I can count on the police to be on my side. I can’t ever truly empathize with the plight of my fellow humans whose outer layer happens to not match the shade of my own. I can’t speak for them.

But I can speak. I can say “Enough.” I can say “No.” I am only one small voice, my words on their own don’t have much power, but that’s not the point. The point isn’t my lone voice. It’s all of ours. If you feel the same way, please say so. Not just in the comments section, either. Say it on any platform you have. Say it more than once. Say it when a friend or family member says something you don’t agree with.

Say it. Speak the hell up.

I guess I do have some words, after all.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

The Pain Of Exclusion

Were you ever picked last for a game when you were a kid?? Ever find out about a party that everyone but you seems to have been invited to? Been in a group of friends reminescing about an incredibly fun memory they shared that you weren’t there for? Remember how the feeling of exclusion felt?

For the blind, we face that almost everywhere we turn. This is a visual world. It always has been, but it seems to be getting more and more so every day.

Video game culture is on the rise, picture sharing platforms are extremely popular, places like Disney World have a plethora of simulator rides based on viewing a screen, even the education of online learning can rely heavily on pictures and videos.

And we can’t participate in that, or if we can we get only a very watered down version of it.

It hurts. It feels like a little jab every time it happens, leaving an inner six year old standing at the edge of the field wondering “What about me?”

The truly frustrating part of that for me is that it doesn’t even need to be this way. Images can be tagged with very descriptive text that would tell us precisely what is in the photo, but no one seems to do it. Rides can have audio tracks, and to be fair many at WDW and other similar theme parks do, but not all of them. Videos can have audio descriptions as well, or at least some sort of back up explination, and not all of them do. Some video games can even be made somewhat or entirely accessible, but designers don’t.

I do not expect the world to bend to meet my needs. I really don’t. The fact that I am blind is always going to limit some of the things I can participate in. But it doesn’t have to limit quite as much as it does, if only those behind designing these things would take a minute to think about the blind and visually impaired community. I’m sure the same goes for other groups as well, but I can only speak to my own experience.

I do want to send a very heartfelt thank you to anyone who has taken the time for accessibility, I’m not unaware of you, it’s just that sometimes the pain of not being able to participate in things that everyone else is doing hurts.

Like all those nifty Facebook avatars people are sharing. Like the buzzfeed personality test I saw yesterday that relied entirely on photos with no description. Like the online courses I’d like to take to maintain my status as a registered massage therapist that require me to see the video.

It sucks. It hurts. And it could be so much better. All society needs to do is take a little bit of time to consider those with disabilities during the design phase and if there is a solution that would include them, do it.

As always, be kind to yourself and to others.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

One Year In

On May 21, 2019, I posted this: https://jennifermorash.com/2019/05/21/an-introduction/. It was my very first blog post. In it, I introduced myself, gave a synopsis of where I was, and a bit about where I wanted to go.

The final line of that post reads: “”Deep breath, best foot forward, and let’s see where this goes.”

That was one year ago tomorrow. So, where did it go?

Well, the introductory material has almost entirely remained the same. I’m still a blind woman and still a massage therapist, though you can tack a year onto the age and length of time in the profession.

But I am not a recreational writer any longer. More on that a bit further in.

I detailed how I was finally trying to write a novel, wich I’d only been at for a week and a half when I began. Since then, I have completed first the rough draft and then the second one, taken the novel through the beta reading stage and began the third draft, the one I intend to submit for publication. So, I call that a goal completed.

I no longer write every single day. That is unsustainable. However, I never intended for that to be a permanent state. I only wanted to do it for long enough to build up my writing muscles from a state of atrophy, and I did. I am still writing frequently.

After a few posts, I settled on a schedule of publishing one post per week, every week, with occasional bonus posts when the mood or situation struck. That is a schedule I have kept to, with two exceptions. I missed one week last fall while utterly miserable with the flu, and took a planned and pre-announced break over the holidays. To be honest, I’m surprised at myself. I doubted my ability to come up with something to write about each and every week. Somehow, I have.

So, why do I say that I’m no longer a recreational writer? Because I’m a professional one. Starting this blog led to the opportunity to do paid writing for the blog that my clinic runs, which you can find here: https://www.massageexperts.ca/blog/

That job makes me a professional freelance writer, which is absolutely not something I thought I’d achieve in under a year. I am exceedingly grateful to Massage Experts for the opportunity, and sincerely passionate about my work there, as it brings together my love of writing with that of educating my clients.

Blogging has not always been easy. There are weeks I just don’t feel like writing. There are subjects that can be difficult to write about. And in our current global crisis, it gets even harder some days. However, writing is cathartic, enjoyable, and it brings me a lot of satisfaction.

To those who have been with me from the start, I thank you. Your support has encouraged me at every step. To those who have joined me somewhere along the path, I thank you, too. Your joining in shows me that I’m not just shouting into the void.

So. Deep breath, best foot forward, and let’s see where else this goes.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

Self-Massage For The Face

Tension in the TMJ, or jaw, area of the face is common in many of the clients that I treat in my career as a massage therapist. There are many reasons for this, ranging from a tendency to clench or grind the teeth, frequent singing or a lot of public speaking, or just general stress.

Jaw tension can cause headaches, ringing in the ears and even a runny nose, because the body is a wonderfully whacky thing. Right now, we’re all separated from our massage therapists… and believe me, your therapists miss you. I do. I also miss helping my clients.

Now, self-massage isn’t always effective. The act of reaching for the part of your body you want to massage more often than not activates the muscles you want to work on, which renders the exercise rather pointless. The face, however, can be worked on to an extent. You can do this without oil or lotion, but if you want to add that in, go with something that won’t clog your pores. I suggest coconut or jojoba oil, but if you work this into a face moisturizing regime, you could use your usual product.

  1. Start off light and general. That basically means that you should gently rub the entire face at first. If you’re using oil/lotion, this is a good time to get it evenly spread. Start at the forehead, above the eyes, and sweep out to the temples and then down over the cheeks, ending at the underside of the chin. Just be cautious around the eyes.
  2. Once you’ve done that for a minute or two, you can get more specific. Again, start at the forehead and work down, rather than starting at the chin and working up. You can use the edge of your forefingers or flat of the palm to stroke from above the nose towards the temple, then use your fingertips to rub in circles above the eyebrows.
  3. Come down to your temples. Again, rub in circles, and don’t be afraid to go up to the scalp. Your largest jaw muscle, the temporalis, goes that far. An easy way to find it is to clench and relax your jaw while you explore with your fingers, you should feel it moving. Just don’t massage while clenched.
  4. Time to pay attention to the cheekbones. Start in next to the nose and trace the underside of the cheekbone from the nose to ear. Repeat this several times at least, but you can do it for longer. Try not to dive right in with all your might, the pressure should be gradually increased, not suddenly.
  5. Next, come down over the cheeks. Again, start in near the nose, just beneath the cheek bones and stroke down towards the chin with the tips of your fingers. Come back up, this time a bit further out and do this again. Then again, until you’ve covered the whole cheek. You have more jaw muscles than you realize, and the major ones are in the cheeks, so don’t skip out on the inner part.
  6. Stroke over the mouth from the center of the lips and out, then do the same below.
  7. Stroke around your lower jawbone. This is the mandible, the moveable part of your jaw. Using the tips of your fingers, stroke from the center outwards, above the bone, over the curve of the jaw, and also under it. There are muscles down there that you don’t think about, the ones that move the tongue. All you singers and frequent talkers, this is an important one for you.
  8. You’re not done yet. Massage is like working out. Just as you warmed up with lighter, general strokes, you also have to cool down. Repeat the same light, general strokes you made at the start from the forehead, around to the temples, over the cheeks and down to the chin.

A few things that you should note:

  • do not massage to the point of pain. If what you are doing hurts, ease back to a lighter pressure.
  • Do not dive right into firmness, either, you need to build up to that.
  • If you have any cuts on your face, don’t do this. Wait until it heals.
  • If you have pre-existing medical conditions involving the face/jaw, consult your doctor before attempting this.
  • If you want to use a lotion or oil on your face that you’ve never used before, do a spot test first. Put a tiny amount on a tiny area of skin and wait for at least twelve hours to make sure that you don’t have a negative reaction. (And again, you can do this with no oil or lotion at all).

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. And once again, be kind to yourselves and those around you.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

The Longest Month

I think April of 2020 has been the longest month of my life.

I’ve certainly had other long and difficult months. I’ve spent months at a time in the hospital, often not being allowed to get out of the bed or, sometimes, sit up. Much of that as a child who wanted to go outside and play. I’ve spent months in some very serious pain. I’ve spent months where depression and anxiety kept me away from the world by choice.

But nothing has been like last month for me, and I know I’m not alone.

It’s not just a matter of boredom, though there was some of that. It was the worry, the fear, and eventually the overwhelming grief and confusion.

(Let me put in a warning here. My posts tend towards the positive. This is not going to be a happy post. For those reading when I post it, you may have already taken in more sad and worrisome things than is good for you to handle. I won’t be offended if you stop reading.)

Right now, as I type this, we are in the midst of the pandemic known as Covid-19. It has infected millions, and killed over 200000, it has brought life as we know it to a standstill globally. It is like nothing I have experienced before. We are all stuck where we are. Public gatherings are not happening. Travel has stopped. Public venues are shut down. Grocery stores have arrows on the floor to indicate what direction you are allowed to go in, and taped marks to show where you can stand. We are all staying six feet apart from one another. Many are off of work, more are working from home, and the essential workers still have to go out and brave getting sick to keep us going.

Then, here in Nova Scotia, a maniac whose name I will not include here because it doesn’t deserve to be remembered, went on a rampage in a place near and dear to my heart, perpetrating the worst mass shooting Canada has ever seen, in a tiny little place most had never heard of. A place we can see from the cottage. A place close to family. Too many lives were lost.

The next week, a NATO helicopter crashed off the coast of Greece, costing the lives of six more Canadians.

April was, in many ways, a series of blow after blow. It seemed like when we started to pick ourselves up off the ground, or even start to, something else happened.

I can count on one hand how many days in April didn’t see me crying at some point. From sadness or just because everything got so overwhelming. And, yes, sometimes in joy because there have been some wonderful things people have done to bring us together, too.

So, why am I writing all of this? Many of my readers are in Nova Scotia or have ties to it, you already know all this. Those who aren’t still heard the news.

I’m writing this for myself. I’m writing this because for me, at least, getting it all out and down into words is good for me. Thoughts can get all cluttered up in my brain, sometimes I just need to sit down and type them out. I’m writing this for you guys, as a reminder that while you may be by yourself, you’re not alone in how you feel.

I’m also writing this because I don’t want to forget. I want something out there that I can look back at next year, or in five or ten years. I want to remember, not because these are good memories, but because to forget is to once again take for granted what we have.

And I want to write this down because I want to remind all of you, as well as myself, that it is a new month. Spring is coming (in theory, it did snow last week here). A time of renewal. We’re going to get through this. Nova Scotia is as strong as she is beautiful, and we humans are a resilient folk. And beyond my beloved province, we’re all, as a society, going to weather this storm.

Once again, please be kind to yourselves and to those around you.

Want to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.

I Am Small

I am small
I am small, and the world is large
Too large to see me
And there is comfort in that
In my smallness, I have room to grow
In my smallness, I can fit myself into the cracks of the world
I can change
I can change the way I grow
I can alter my shape to suit myself
I have space
I can expand
I can stretch and stretch
Perhaps one day, I will fill the world
But now, I am small
small and happy

xWant to follow or interact with me on social media? Find me on Twitter by following @jennifermorash or head over to https://www.facebook.com/jennifermorashblog. I post blogs every Wednesday.