Please Don't

So lately I have been a little angry for various reasons-

-a perpetually dirty kitchen.
-a seemingly unsolvable confusion.
-my own procrastination and lack of motivation in regards to writing this paper I'm currently taking a break from.
-and mostly, for my friends and family.

As much as sometimes I wish I could chew people out for mistreating those I love. I don't. And I don't yell or hit or glare (well occasionally) or sit in silence and fume. I smile and laugh and then go off to comfort the one who has been hurt.

Do you know how hard it is to comfort someone sometimes? You say what you believe and think and feel with fervor. You tell them it is going to be okay, that they are amazing, that they deserve better than that. You recite quotes that bolstered you up in times of need and share personal stories. And sometimes it helps. But sometimes...sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes they don't listen because they can't. And it is frustrating not being able to help the ones you want to. You want to say the perfect sentence to make everything alright. But it doesn't exist. In the end, healing is a solitary event. You can help and you can try and help but eventually, it is up to the person who is hurt to decide to believe you or to decide that yes, in fact, it is all going to be okay.

But let me just say-sometimes I wish people would leave my loved ones alone. And it's the hardest when it's two loved ones hurting each other. But really. Please would everyone just leave each other alone. Just think about others first. Really. I know its a balance-you have to stand up for yourself and your wants and needs but just think. Think about how your actions and your words affect those around you. Because they do.

So here is my universal chewing out: Stop it. Grow up. Think. I mean, really? How could you think that was okay? That. Is. Not. Okay. I get that you got selfish-we all do it. But overcome it. And if you couldn't then, do it now. Man up. Apologize. Rectify the situation as best you can. Learn, grow, heal, and foster healing.

Happy Thanksgiving

Cliches exist for a reason. It may be cliche to write about some things I am grateful for on Thanksgiving morning. But. Cliches exist for a reason.

And so, dear world, thank you.

Thank you for:
-Crunchy leaves for me to walk through. Their smell, sound, color-everything.
-Musica.
-My family. We aren't perfect but I like us. Late nights full of games. Dove Bars. Bicycle rides. Ski trips. Yard work. Hysterical laughter. The never ending support and faith.
-The night sky.
-Modern medicine. Really.
-My friends. Not only do I have the most amazing time with them but they have been my strength in times of need. Thank you thank you thank you-
-My job. Enjoyable, flexible, and a family in its own way...
-Forgiveness. Both my ability to forgive and others ability to forgive me.
-Fruit and vegetables. Num num.
-The mountain air. You breathe and it feels like its cleansing you.
-Walks. Like going on them. Calming. Fun. Lovely.
-The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It's my foundation.
-Children. The funny things they say/do. Their love. Fun. Their innocence.
-Tacos. Taco Tuesday. Tacos.
-Parks. Swings. Frisbees.
-Farmers Markets and Craft Fairs.
-Creativity.
-The color green.
-The ocean. Lakes. Rivers. Ponds. I love being near bodies of water. They are slightly majestic.
-Transportation of all sorts.
-My health. My health. My health. My health. My health.
-The ability to read and write.
-The education I have been blessed to receive.
-Snow. Christmas lights. Snow and Christmas lights.

And plenty plenty more.

Thank you.

A Gem from ABC...

I always tell my friends not to allow me to watch Grey's Anatomy alone because I usually end up curled into a ball crying to myself...but every week I do and yes, usually every week end up a little blurry eyed.

Sometimes it inspires me. Fictional characters in fictional situations inspire me. Yes. And I have a new hero named Isaac who said the following as he was going into surgery:

No, don't close me up. If you get in and it's too complicated, cut the cord. Paralyze me if you must. I survived a war did you know that? I survived a war where they put bodies in to mass graves where there was once a playground. I survived the death of my family, my parents, my brothers and sisters. Then I survived the death of my wife and child when they starved to death in a refugee camp. I survived the loss of my country, of hearing my mother tongue spoken, of knowing what it feels like to have a place to call home. I survived. And I will survive the loss of my legs. If I have to, I'll survive it. Ok? But Derek, there is always a way when things look like there's no way. There's a way to do the impossible, to survive the in survivable. There's always a way. And you, you and I have this in common. We're inspired. In the face of the impossible, we're inspired. So if I can offer one piece of advice to the world's foremost neuro surgeon. Today if you become frightened instead become inspired. Ok, I'm ready now. Put me to sleep.

I loved it.

So survive. Find a way. Be inspired.

Possession: A Romance

by A. S. Byatt
...

I have been reading it for English 380: Modern British and International Literature and to quote a classmates "It's an English Majors dream!". Which it is in a way though I find myself convinced that I would be swept away by the language and the story more fully were I sprawled on a couch in front of a fireplace somewhere in England with a storm raging outside.

Anyway-Possession. Knowledge is possession. As one comes to understand something, and truly understand something down to the minute details a sense of ownership develops. I have written countless papers, poems, and incoherent scrawlings throughout my life. And through this process of writing I have developed what some refer to as "their babies". It's the literary analysis paper that thrilled your mind or the poem that seems to be your pulse, the poem you spent hours mulling over what word to choose, how to space the lines, what to title it because the feeling behind that poem was so purely you. It was knowledge. An excitement and understand of scholarly topics and then a deeper, self reflective knowledge.

The word possession usually brings to mind objects, things that one claims. And reflecting on my life the things that I have claimed seriously, and not simply as a "My money bought that' are the things that I know, the things that have been apart of my life, that hold meaning. That if they could talk they could tell my story better than I ever could. I don't claim much. I wouldn't be upset to lose many things- Even now I struggle to come up with something that I would cry over were I to have it ripped away from me. Maybe Sniffy-yes, my stuffed dog. And not in a childish-baby-like-way but because Sniffy is mine. I woke up in the most physical pain I have even been in in my life only to have him slipped into my arms where he stayed for days. And then, when days would get hard he would find his way back there, his fur absorbing tears. He has been there with his ears being played with, his softness slowly soothing everything else away. And this knowledge-the knowledge that a brown sack of stuffing brings me comfort is what makes him mine. Other things that I claim: -My Scriptures -My Writings -Certain Letters.

There is more though. I think it applies to people as well and to people the most beautifully. When you know someone and not just know them but truly know them. It makes me think of when John Mayer sings "I'm learning you...". When you come to know someone and know them intimately a sense of possession develops. And I do not mean in a controlling sense. But in a loving, charitable sense. Knowledge fosters love which fosters a sense of claim. They are yours because you have laughed with them for countless hours over the hysterical and the tragic. They are yours because you know what their facial expressions mean despite the words they may be saying. They are yours because no matter what, you forgive them and you forgive them instantly. And they are yours because somehow, your life wouldn't be complete without them. You could live and you could live well but with them in it-you live beautifully. There are very few people I would and will ever claim as mine. And I believe that is how it is supposed to be.

...

I'm avoiding responsibility. Thank you.

This past Spring term I took a writing poetry class at BYU from one the most incredible individuals I have ever met. The first time you meet him you just sit in shock while your brain mumbles to itself "People like you exist...people like you actually exist...".

Thank goodness.
(By the way...weird idiom we use...)

Anyway-I was sitting in class one day listening to my professor spew brilliantness all over the room when he said the phrase "words fail". I remember feeling like everything faded from there. His voice seemed softer and the other students closely surrounding me seemed to pull away. I could hear my pulse, I could hear it and it seemed to drowned out the shuffling of white noise. My chest ached as my breathing staggered. Flooding every sense was that concept and that emotion. And in front of me was a blank page with two words written down. Words. Fail.

So I wrote and wrote and wrote and tried to write a poem about that. Words failing.

(Words) (Loss)

Pairs of worn shoes.
Only one set of footprints.
A scent’s whisper fades
While he…you…
and…-
but…-
(breathe)…-
no…

And appropriately...words failed.

But hey-it gives me a life long project to work on. But how does one do that? Language isn't perfect. Words do fail all the time. How many times do you hear "I don't know how to explain it...I can't think of a word for it...Words can't describe...". Or how many times is silence the only answer that seems appropriate. And yet we keep trying. We keep talking. We keep writing. And we keep reading.

A Good List Never Hurt Anyone

-I'm going to a Haunted Forest tonight...first time ever going to a Haunted "Anything"...I'm planning on coming home with a bruised hand. Why, you ask? Because I hit things when I get scared...poor friendies...though I have been watching 24 lately so maybe I'll just go all Hardcore-Jack-Bauer and punch things I'm probably not supposed to punch/scale walls/run real real fast/army crawl/barrel roll....

-I have an extremely strong desire to spend a day baking a plethora of delectable treats.

-Strong Desire #2: To quilt. Items I need: Everything.

-Autumn smells pretty.

-I want a yellow typewriter and a pale robin egg blue KitchenAid.

-Yoga-ed for the first time ever the other day. I only burst out laughing once. I consider this to be an accomplishment. My thoughts? Liked it. It's hard to do what Man tells you to do when Man puts you in a position so you can't see the TV screen and you have no idea what Man means...and it feels amazing when you finish.

-Vanilla ice cream with Nerds in it. Yeah. It's that good. Made some for Roommate Laura yesterday, she took a bite, looked at me with happy eyes, to which I said "I know!".

-Fruit is Mother Nature's way of saying "I love you."

-Things I love seeing on campus: Hair bling. A bumper sticker that read "So many men-so many reasons to sleep alone." Unicyclists. The Quill and Sword Club. People wrestling to advertise for something...or something...Friends. People walking and reading at the same time. Scarves. Awkward guy/girl interactions. The Study Abroad Fair always brightens my day. Some people in shorts and t shirts with the person next to them in long pants with mittens and a coat on. Others.

-Looks and smiles always say more than anything else. Because you can't always control a look or the way your mouth curls up. Sometimes it's fake. Sometimes it's cold. Sometimes it's warmer than you wanted or expected. I can watch people's faces and know what they are thinking whether they say it or not simply be the softening/hardening of features during our conversations. Looks and smiles haunt me/warm me/make me laugh/intrigue me.

-Good memory: Pulling out stumps with my dad as a young girl. After helping dig around it I would drive the tractor while he would chop at the roots with an axe. Sometimes he would jump on the back of the tractor because I didn't weigh enough to pull it out. And if it wasn't coming out I would help brainstorm solutions with him. We made a good team.

-"Fakeness" and I don't get along. I can sense it and it makes my skin crawl. Just be real. Even if real is confusing and hard it's better than "fake". "Fake" doesn't solve anything. "Fake" makes things even more confusing...put fondant over a piece of wood and it's still a piece of wood. Sand the wood down, stain it, love it. (Random image? I know...that's what I get for watching some random reality show about cakes...).

-Speed kills. (Don't rush life/things...it ruins them).

-Mexican food is happiness in a tortilla.

-There is a difference between being likeable and loveable.

-I'm learning a lot everyday-I just hope I don't forget it all when it matters most.

-I used to be a decently serious person. I mean, I laughed and I joked around but when I was talking about something more serious, I was serious. Brandon taught me about 3 years ago that that doesn't have to be the case. I like combining both. And maybe it's because humor can come as a defense mechanism and it can ease the tension but is that a bad thing? I think it's an art form, and one I'm working on...but I like it. I also think there is a balance and a sense of appropriateness but hey, life is short-

-Pillows and blankets are perfection. I love being in a lil comfortable cocoon and talking with friends. Lovely.

-The other night I dragged a chair out onto our balcony to do some reading and I fell in love.

-Being outside is theraputic.

-When I graduate I'm just going to sit at home all day practicing the guitar. I think it sounds like a solid career plan. My parents are going to love it.


El Fin

Where the Sidewalk Ends...

I think I like to think that things are meant to be. And in five years when I am reflecting back on the past 27 years as opposed to the past 22 it may seem that way. Because the paths I will choose and the paths I have chosen will lead me somewhere naturally. Right? Looking forward it's harder to feel that way-but sometimes...

I just want to sit down with Fate or Destiny or both, have a lil fresh fruit and ice water, and have a nice, friendly chat to ask the following questions-

-I'm meant to be this person's friend, aren't I? It just happened too smoothly and is too perfectly for it not to be...
-So I've been given these traits, had 'em since I was pequeña...is this why? Or is it for some other part of my life that I just don't see coming...
-Why is it that every time I go to give up, and when I say 'give up' I mean flat-out-give-up-run-the-other-direction, on Life Path #39 something draws me back to it...
-Why did you let Life Path #39/40/41 happen?
-Was I meant to meet Person A because they would know Person B who knew Person C and D and were they meant to be in my life for a while to teach me something? Or did it just happen to work out that way?
-Did that happen to both of us so we could understand each other?
-Why then and not now?
-Why now and not then?
-Why did her life go that way and my life this way though we seem to be built for it to be the other way around?
-Was I supposed to finish that book at the time I did so that I would learn more than I could have any other way from it?
-Why can't they just find a job now? Why are they going through this time?
-Did that whole thing mean something?
-Why here? Why there?
-Was she meant to come into my life in someway, and that way didn't matter, as long as she was there, as long as our paths crossed?
-Did that whole car accident thing happen for a reason? Cause I don't necessarily feel like I learned anything from that...and it hurt...
-Are you really taking care of me? It really is all going to work out for the best, right?
-Etc.
-Etc.
-Etc.

Either way. So far so good...and I'm looking forward to my 27th birthday...