a star danced, and under that was i born.

God hath made me to laugh,

so that all that hear will laugh with me.

genesis 21:6

(i like this photo. because. we all look happy. relieved. because it was a long, long week. and here is our momentary reprieve.)

last night, we with some friendlyfriends, plus some others not pictured,

(i know. i have friends? it's rare.)

went to see much ado about nothing performed outdoors at byu.

performed by actors from the london stage. as in, london, england.

so i could fangirl for quite awhile about how well done it was (SOGOOD), but i'll spare you.

(you're welcome.)

it's a comedy. and these five actors played all parts.

by comedy of errors, that made it even funnier.

add the provo community audience, and you have yourselves a winner of all winners.

(though when william shakespeare is involved, when is it not a winner?)

funny, i tell you. really really funny.

there we sat, on the front row of a set of bleachers.

there i was, with stage lights from the side opposite hitting both the stage and me,

a slight wind blowing on an early autumn evening warmer than its usual chill,

intermittent drops of threatening sprinkles.

and there it is.

the art of theatre.

and there i was.

laughing.

laughter, you see. it used to come so easily to me.

all through my childhood, i couldn't count the number of times people would say,

'emily laughs easily. she laughs at almost anything.'

but ever since i don't know when (in the past two years sometime), it doesn't anymore.

real, raw-reactionary, throw-back-your-head-carelessly laughter.

sometimes. but not often.

i don't laugh the way i used to.

and last night, i realized.

it was the first time in awhile that i laughed.

that i truly laughed and let go of anything else.

because.

god hath made me to laugh.

and so i did.

a letter? to me.

if i were to write a letter to me. this, the 27th day of september, 2014.

and if i sent it to myself one year ago, it would go a little something like this.

hey sister self,

it's a rainy saturday today.
i'm wearing a skirt, no tights, and sandals, plus a cardigan too.
because it's 27 september.
but. no tights. and sandals. because i can. even though now my feet are wet.
by ukraine standards that would be outrageous, even if the temperature might be nearly the same.
rainy rain.

where you are. you're days away from being thrown a blow of shock.
from finding out a fate you'd never expect to be given.
i wouldn't want you to know more than you need to too far in advance.
it will be a downpour of shock when you do find out as it is.
but. it is given. it was a gift, though the strangest kind of gift there is.
[meaning: the return to the mountain.]

tonight is the night you meet valentina the poet when you stop by after english.
три молитвы is still the best one.
last night, that moment after stopping by karina's?
don't forget that, sister.
treasure that moment when it sunk in and you said to yourself:
i do. i really do. i like being a missionary. getting to know people in a way you never otherwise would.
the odd stop-bys to see people. a role unlike any other.
this is real.
this is rare.

i know what you're wondering what the universe looks like now.
from me, here in 2014 (already!) compared to your 2013.
what could one year from now possibly look like?
because i know you can't even imagine.
i don't know what to tell you. and i don't know how you'd react anyway.

maybe you'd be shocked.
maybe you'd spend the night thinking as you stare out that window into the night from your bed.
(cause who can actually sleep as a missionary slash in ukraine? you sure didn't.)
maybe in a split second while chitter chatting with someone on the street it will cross your mind.
maybe you'd just look up for a minute, then keep on going through the september puddles and staying in that moment.

probably the latter.

that end was a thick time: thick sometimes like kasha and other times like molasses.
because so many circles are being brought back to their beginning.
but those moments have their own kind of beauty.
and kharkov is just so lovely in the fall, even on year two.
it never ceases to take your breath away.

time passes, love.
keep moving, shaking, and hoping.
because today does come. that one year from where you are now.
it continually does in a life that keeps moving restlessly on.
and life looks a lot different than it once did,
even though so much is the same too.

university. is so much the same, and yet different than it once was.
turns out, you really will double major in russian.
(though some days you still question your judgment.)
and just you wait until you get into russian literature.
it saves souls with its piercing kind of beauty.

dates happen. school happens. work happens.
and somewhere in the midst of all that you remember:
(because for a few months you forget.)
there are good people in this world.
and you have a beautiful brightness ahead as well as in the now.

and just like ukraine has already taught:
it'll all work out.

for now.
love what you love.
enjoy the september downpours.
dream of days gone by, days not yet, and days that are.

when in doubt, follow victor hugo's advice:
have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones;
and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace.
god is awake.

he is awake. and you are too.
don't fret, little bird.
there's thrill in learning to fly again.
learning to fly as an individual in the real world.
because life is just a series of new beginnings.

с любовью.
em.
(because it's your name once again.)

ps. the returned sister life has plenty of perks. this time of life. the freedom, the thrill, the potentials, the learning, the possibilities, the becoming. endless flight. there is much to be enjoyed.

k --- [to ---]

first, a disclaimer:

   this isn't directed at individuals, but instead at the existing culture that needs to change. i acknowledge that the culture already is changing. that so much is being done to aid in the circumstances and culture of elders, sisters, men, women. but it's not there yet. also. i don't hate men. in fact, i like them. i like them a lot. love, actually. and i have friends of the the male origin, particularly from my mission, who i've talked about this with before. and they themselves don't deny it. they agree. and i'm not writing this with the intent of making all men hate me--please don't. (because by the end of this, i know the line of men wanting to marry me will probably be out the door. as in, they all turned around and walked back out.)
   additionally, i'm not trying to say our life as women is always harder than men. there are some experiences that are hard for everyone, missionary or otherwise. and. i also feel credit is due to those who did try to defy this system. to those who did defy the boy's-club culture. to all the incredible men i know. the ones who are pained when we tell them of the things we go through. the ones who treat us as equal in the work we do. the ones who value our insights and seek for understanding, even when they know they don't. there are a lot of good people in this world. not every day of my mission is reflected in these words. that said, this is not fabricated experience either. it is real. not everything was always this intense. but sometimes. for a long time. it was.

   no one is perfect. but. we must be trying.

   maybe most importantly is this too: i love God. He loves me. He loves you. He loves everyone. not in a general way, but in an individual way. when we are laborers in His vineyard, i don't think He cares one little bit whether we have just x chromosomes, a y chromosome, or about the variations present on those chromosomes. He cares about your heart. He cares that you're in the process of making your heart a heart like His. because we must be trying.

k --- [to ---]

you say that you know, you say that you've seen.

and therefore you think you do.

you think you know by association the things we go through.

you think you know what it's like

to be a woman,

to be a sister.

in addition to the shared trait of being an american in eastern ukraine.

but.

this is the thing we've been trying to say, 

this is that which we've been trying to tell you:

you don't really understand a thing.

they say we're all equal and valued in that call to serve.

they say our service is welcomed and appreciated.

but sometimes it seemed more like a typical round of zone sports:

you say you want us to play too,

but you don't really mean it.

you don't know where to put us, what to do with us, or how to treat us.

so you take instead the route of ignoring us.

arranging us in the sidelines of your vision and keeping us there.

i know you don't think this is what you do.

"of course we don't mind you playing along," you shout in objection.

but do you?

"you're not on the sidelines! we're all working together and unified!"

are we?

when were we ever asked to share our opinion and insights about missionary work?

when were we ever given opportunity to share learned experience

-- or learn from the already-learned experience of others?

the only times we shared were when we pushed our voices in.

the only times we learned was through occasional notes of other sisters.

because when were we ever allowed to see one another?

when was our turn to learn from the more experienced

to gain perspective,

to gain wisdom,

or even just handy tips and language helps?

you had your grapevine.

every night brought call-ins on up to the top.

so that all were safe, yes.

but filled also with chitter chatter and shared experience.

support.

we hung up, planned, pleaded with god.

for our souls to be filled, and our daily plans too.

you have your splits.

every transfer once -- at the very least.

but usually more.

district leaders, zone leaders, assistants.

those who have gone before.

those who can show you, share what they know.

we had nearly none.

did you ever once spend

all day, every day, multiple transfers.

just doing basic missionary work?

you had breaks in monotony, moments outside trenches.

even if you were never once district leader.

guaranteed at some point your companion was.

or someone in your district.

district leaders, zone leaders, assistants.

you're with each other all the time.

learning, growing. by benefit of experience.

we faced experience ourselves.

there was a time when we didn't have exchanges or participate in meetings.

back in the early days, sisters were never even invited.

always there, yes.

but when did a sister lead a training?

how often was a sister given to comment?
experience and culture trained against it.

i see you there.

bewildered eyes.

lips slightly parted,

lungs filling with air

--preparing to refute.

but.

for once in your life--don't stop listening.

hear me out.

there are few things i cherish more than my relationships with my sisters.

there are few human souls that mean more to me than those of my sisters.

we love one another and we always will.

because of what we went through.

because of our isolation.

because of our will to fight.

because we had to fight for everything.

"you did not!" --you're about to shout out.

when did anyone ever tell you that maybe the sisters should teach your investigators?

(young women not included.)

when did you ever sit through meetings about missionary work

and have every reference to missionaries directed only to those in a white shirt and tie?

when did you ever notice that

they call you миссионеры [missionaries], usually.

they always call us the сестрички [sisters, in cutesy, diminutive form].

all with an implication that сестрички ≠ миссионеры.

i'm not saying we're perfect.

in fact, it's important you know that we're not.

take that pedestal and throw it off the балкон [balcony].

pedestals aren't respect.

they're patronizing.

but while you're out there on the балкон,

take a match to the doormat you're weaving too.

destroy it and leave no remnant.

because no, we're not perfect.

we all have strengths and all have weaknesses.

just.

like.

you.

and yet--when people get talking about sisters:

"sisters are so dramatic!"
"sisters don't work as hard."

"sisters don't know russian."

"sisters are only here because they can't get married."

"sisters are always asking for blessings."

"sisters are naïve and lack common sense."

(and now we have a complex, always acting in avoidance of ever seeming too needy.)

okay. right.

maybe sometimes some is true.

but it's true of you too.

and so we worked our tails off.

fighting for every little thing.

fighting for a voice.

because we had to prove ourselves.

every day.

i had a companion once (though we could apply it in many places more than this one evening)

--seconds away from hopping on a plane of escape.

because of these perpetuated rumors,

their suffocating effect.

filled, for a moment.

with hatred.

hatred towards elders.

hatred towards that dark place.

hatred towards the brokenness and hopelessness.

hatred towards that exhausting life.

under the façade of hatred, though--deep sadness.

grief.

to be a sister.

in a place where people yell at you,

laugh you to scorn, 

or worse,

turn away in indifference or annoyance.

where they push you away--both physically and mentally.

where even the people on your side of the battlefield

seem to be building walls between you.

they don't see you as capable either.

ukrainians often saw only cute, silly girls from america with a blue book.

even members often thought we were simply cute girls with testimonies,

there to uplift and leave the real dirty work to elders.

and you too, sometimes think not far off.

we joke about the ukrainian men.

the drunkards and countless proposals of marriage.

but, you don't understand a thing about being a woman in that country.

you don't know a thing of what it is for harassment on some level to be daily and unavoidable.

it's not flattering.

we're not insecure girls who need to be told we're pretty.

we're beautiful, we know.

but even when looking almost like a potato sack.

(which. honestly, we all did in ukraine.)

the men still come to all.

it's not flattering, it's humiliating.

it feels like being covered in mud and having your soul ripped out of you.

degrading and demeaning.

to nearly all with whom we associated:

(even you too, at some point or another)

we were not girls.

--someone's daughter, friend, girlfriend

with kinship to the women in your life or future mothers of your children.

to you we were none of that.

in that place,

to wear a tag that says 'сестра _______,'

is to become just "the sisters."

when will we learn?

are we learning?

til my soul is in flight.

from the mountains down to the sea.

i get lost in my mind.

can i tell you about today?

i don't know who you are.

but i need to tell you anyway.

// i love talking about hearing aids and i think they're the most interesting thing in the world lately.

// at work today, i got to take a russian call for front desk. because the other russian speaker at front desk was already gone for the day. (sorry, joel.) so i got to talk to the most pleasant russian man about his son's course. спасибо, Эмили. спасибо вам большое. << those are the words i treasure. and therefore this part of the day alone put me on cloud nine. also, i love middle-aged russian men from ukraine. like this one i chittered with today. because. because this is why. this is the answer.

// after that call i had the moment. the moment that told me, this is why i'm still studying russian and why i learned it in the first place. so that i may communicate. so that i can talk to people like him. so that i get to have experiences like this. i do it for this. << that is the answer.

// pushkin. just. aleksandr sergeevich pushkin. i don't even know where to begin. he just. he gets it. the beauty of what it is to be human. i realize that he and lev nikolaevich tolstoi are both long since dead. but i actually want to be best friends with both of them.

// that table outside the library and jfsb that i spent summer 2010 studying on. i still sit there to read sometimes, while the weather's still nice. and today i did. me, the sun, the shade, and some reading about aphasia. (^^the previous two photos to this point are from that time. and apparently i used to wear jeans.)

 

 // georgie face sharing the beautiful music he's made with me. byumintbrownies, postits, and chitterchatting.

 // we finally have a fan in our apartment. the ac doesn't work and it's been like hades for us on the third floor. firstworldprobs, we know.

// to be wonderstruck. encounters and observationists. feeling winds of movement. of change. loverly.

// making frozen chocolate covered banana pieces with megan beth. (yes, they're real real good.)

(this is actually my favorite photo of all time of meganbeth. it epitomizes her.

the dreaming eyes, the wild hair, the arms wide open,

the legs in motion, but also firmly planted. all in autumn.)

// that golden almost-autumn sunshine that lasted all the day long. the wind that makes your hair tangle and flows through your fingers, breathing life into your heart and soul. breathing perspective. i listen to the wind, to the wind on my soul. because this time of year always makes me think of хтз, megan, and especially our саша and томара.

// megan beth and i. we took a sister drive. driving through fresh and clear mountain air. with all the windows down, the sun roof open. because this is what is needed. it is good for the lungs, the head, the heart, the soul. fresh air, changing leaves, and sunshine. and it is in fact, one of the best decisions we've ever made. hippieish mountain music and all. provo canyon is my favorite. because sometimes your soul just needs to breathe. and there's something about the mountains that makes a person feel whole.

// as we were parking, we passed by a girl in our ward who is mutual friends with spencie spence elder sunshine and had just seen him. he works at the creamery. so we spontaneously went to visit him and got ice cream too. and. he loves me. i love him. we have the weirdest most darling relationship of sister mother brother son siblings, who also share cold mountain. sometimes i forget how much i love. i forget how much those connections mean. also. raspberry lemonade ice cream? crowd favorite.

because god really is good.

and somehow, someway, everything really does work out.

let me run through a field in the night, let me lift from the ground till my soul is in flight.

and i'll start to soar.

this is what mother and daughter look like.

(almost two years after meeting one another for the first time--in this life, anyway.)

so yeah, maybe we (especially me) have severe crow's feet at the age of twenty-three.

but.

all of these lines across our faces tell you the story of who we are.

we all have a story to tell.

and it's worth every line.

song of the day: flight, sutton foster & megan mcginnis

badadadadum.

when i play the violin, there's this internal dialogue that takes place. not a spoken language, but a language unique to the way i remember or process that which i'm playing. a weird combination of sounds and numbers. and not necessarily numbers quite the way we recognize them, but with a weird accent in them. it doesn't make sense, i know. it just. is.

i'm a little bit hating russian right now. not all of it. there's just one of my classes that isn't my favorite. but sometimes it leads to hating all things russian. i'm working on it. it's just. a struggle. and real hard for me. the saving grace, is that pushkin is pushkin: a genius across time and space. the discussion and interpretation of this was a little bit of a life changer for me. and i also find this and this incredibly beautiful. (links are to english translations.)

megochka beth and i have had some real good chitterchats lately. also. we watched ygm over the weekend for the first time in a looong time. i still have pretty much the whole thing memorized, so nobody fret.

by just before my one year mark home, all of my daughters will also be home. what a day that will be. good thing i have a few months until i have to think of such things. BUT. sissy rohrbaugh is coming home in a couple of weeks. (elevendays!) and i'm selfishly ecstatic.

there's this absolute cupcake of a human soul from my last area of my mission. his name is vlad. vlad is in his mid-twenties. and he is a member, albeit less active. sister fin and i adore his soul. he's awkward, but darling. went tracting with us once always so happy to see us and be our friend. anyway. vlad sent me theeee most darling message yesterday out of the blue. and i almost wept it made me so happy. ilovehim. therearegoodpeopleinthisworld. thereareacoupleukrainianswholoveme.

we had a mini unexpected mission reunion following regional conference on sunday. unplanned. somehow we all walked by the same corner outside the marriot center. and. it filled my bucket right up. goodsouls.

i think i reaaaaaally like my major. i think the process of applying to grad school makes me want to tear my eyes out. also. HEARINGAIDSARESOCOOL. sometimes i wonder if maybe audiology is secretly my true calling. and. i watched sound and fury for a class today. cochlear implants are so controversial. i can't decide where i stand in relation to this documentary.

today i was reminded several times that there really are good people in this world. and they're worth fighting for. good, delightful, genuine people. and for this. it's worth it.

i'm currently accepting suggestions for the best places inside the hbll. i've yet to find a favorite place for this semester. and i only have so many more chances to explore all my options. also. being near study rooms where people are suuuuper loud when you're trying to focus is the most annoying thing on the planet.

did i ever mention that derry had another little girl? did i ever mention that my nieces are the most darling humans on the planet--via photo, anyway? runs in the family. only thing that could make it better would be if they weren't on the other side of the country.

what would it be like to live in a world where russian wasn't consuming my soul? this here is fairly accurate. i believe my favorites are 1 // 2 (SOTRUE.) // 7 // 9 // 13 // 16 & 17 // 18 // 22 // 24 (MYLIFE.) // 26 (imayormaynothaveactuallysaidthistoday). how is this my life?

my thirst for sunshine is still insatiable. and the autumn turning leaves are beautiful. (i'mscaredofwinter.)

bean, staggley, and i are getting scared of this little dry spell lasting forever. let's hope it ends soon. hashtag. dryspell. on the bright side, our ward is such a different environment with the new year. so much more room to breathe these days.

there's more i could say probably. or less i could say. but. alas. мне пора уснуть. time for me to go die. and collapse. and then begin the drowning life again in the morningtime. so i suppose this is all i'll say for now.

questions? comments? good. me neither.

if i type окружающая среда one more time. so help me.

just a few things as of late.

bean copied this down. and gave it to me. and. i think these words are beautiful.

(we're on a kick of wanting to be native american thanks to her native american lit class.)

from the foot of the four saved mountains our contentment

flows; from their bodies, our strength, and from their peaks,

our prayers. in this journey of life we experience many emotions,

some good, some bad. pain and illness occur when we

choose to detach ourselves from this connection.

shonto begay, the view from the mesa.

sarah staggley had a birthday.

welcome to the crowd of old people.

(that's us.)

on saturday in the morning i played for awhile with my ma accompanying. and then in the afternoon georgie and i spent several hours playing duets. it was the best thing that's ever happened to me. (rosa on the right.)

just for funsies.

new obsession with this. it's even more beautiful in real life resonance.

fun fact about me #22497. i do this thing where i paint just my thumb.
though the other day i painted my other finger too.
i know, i know.
there are some questions we just don't bother with.
^such as the purpose or origin of this habit.

and. sometimes i buy a dozen yellow roses from the clearance flowers at smith's.

because.

why not, you know?

one: i shall not live in vain.

if i can stop one heart from breaking,

i shall not live in vain;

if i can ease one life the aching,

or cool one pain,

or help one fainting robin

unto his nest again, 

i shall not live in vain.

emily dickinson

dirty orange couches.

so school started.

this was our cheesyclichéfirstdayphoto thing.

the first week was real rough, i can't lie.

part of my soul died. 

so i'm hoping not every week is that way.

that said.

i've met a whole lot of great people this week. which is cool.

also. after a slight crisis. i really do like my major. i think.

but some parts are just a lil rough.

so. between that and church and breathing in and out, my life is consumed.

so it goes that first week.

i went to a sutton foster concert at byu on friday.

it was really, really, really good. 

she sang my favorite song--her duet with megan mcginnis.

they sound sublime together.

also. i'm loving this song from daddylonglegs that was also sung.

being really busy is really cramping the swinging style of me and bean.

it's rough on the soul.

all these meetings, all these people.

all this acting like i'm a pleasant person err sumfing.

i'm exhausted.

but really. i'm surrounded by a lot of really really great humans.

so there's always that.

i've made this place a home.

i've found my people.

(and sometimes i act like i'm bffs with people.

when we're. you know. not maybe there yet.)

i love my bishopric.

i think i really like my ward.

(though i'm trying still to cope with the fact that

jillybean and sarahstagg aren't in my apartment anymore.)

(AND. let's just talk about how someone i went to high school with is in my ward! fiveyearslater.)

i really like being in reliefsociety.

i love my roommates.

i like transitions and new beginnings.

sometimes my ma sends me texts with photos like the following.

so, maybe it only happened once.

but let's just talk about how darling steve and i were. so cuuuute.

okay.

carry on.

life is measured by new experiences.

we are okay, we are alright.

universal university.

the thing i love about university life and education, as well as this phase of life in general, is the way everything is questioned. the way new ideas are brought into your world. new ideas, new perspectives, new lives. the way you begin thinking about something you'd never even considered before. new questions. new pieces of mysteries of the universe to resolve. like walking into a freshman biology class and actually considering evolution and what that means for the first time. discussions and dialogues about the world we live in as it was, is, and will someday be.

found here.

that's what i love about university.

yesterday i had my last first day of traditional education. the first day of my last year as an undergraduate college student. let's take a little moment to examine this little journey, shall we? i can't believe that it's been five years. five years since i first moved to this provo land.

it always starts with so many general education courses. but if i'm honest. i think that's the beautiful part of university. the way you study and come to be familiar with so many microcosms within the university itself. that freshman biology and political science, or anthropology and music civilization. plus so many more.

when i started i was a psychology major, but didn't really have any clue what i wanted to do. then i fiercely considered anthropology before concluding i'd never be able to get a job in that. before ultimately somehow landing in communication disorders and finding it to be just right. so maybe it requires a master's degree. did you know, i was in sixth grade when i decided that i wanted to get a master's degree? sixth grade.

there once was a time when i was minoring in french. aha. then i went to romania and learned romanian instead. then when i came back to french it was a real struggle. and then i went on a mission russian-speaking and all hope was lost regarding french academics, despite the fact that i only had two courses left in the minor. and that's the story of how i began double majoring in russian.

i went to school summer term after my freshman year because i couldn't find a job. turns out i couldn't find a job so that i could go to romania. because the next summer, that's exactly what i did. perhaps one of the best decisions i've ever made in my entire life. then another academic year passed by, in the midst of which in put in my papers and received a mission call. that call to ukraine. the call.

i never truly anticipated serving a mission and deferring school in the middle of it, let alone deferring at a point when i had only one semester left. but, as we all know: life rarely, if ever, goes exactly as anticipated. but that's exactly what i did. and that year and a half in ukraine in addition to what i already had learned in romania taught me a thing or two or two thousand about the big picture and this great big world, as well as the place we each hold within it. so then when i came back, suddenly the world seemed bigger than just this small square of academics. because the world became my campus.

(in the midst there's been what seems like numberless amounts of roommates, what actually is numberless expanses of new experience, and numberless lessons learned that are shaping and molding me into who i am and who i'm becoming.)

so now here i am, beginning my final year. not counting romania, that's seven full semesters, three terms so far. with two more full semesters to go. i'm doubling in russian now, and that's what god has given me to fill my life with purpose in the interim between that last semester that i left and in all those months before graduate school. because isn't that the point all along and what we ought to be learning? to fill our lives with purpose, to fill them with the things that matter most. because all this universal knowledge is what gives us understanding. all this knowledge is what lends to empathy. to greater understanding of the human condition. and that is what it's all about.

and as they say grandpa hales always said,

life is measured by new experiences.

here's to one last oldish kind of new experience before the new begins again.
here's to learning in order that we may go forth serving.

(and you'll never hear me admit it, but i've found sometimes i really do love this byu place.)