the due time.

a few months ago, 

when i discovered it could be done online,

i went through and requested the patriarchal blessings of my direct ancestors.

just up to my great-grandparents, for the ones who received one.

i requested them, and then, quite frankly, forgot about it.

a few weeks ago my maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother's arrived.

yesterday my maternal great-grandmother's arrived. 

you know what?

the more blessings i read,

the more my perspective shifts.

at first they felt like nothing grand.

they're all unique, i suppose,

though carry many similarities, as could be expected.

at first that irked me.

where's the personalization in that?

today, though.

i realized that i love the overlapping language. 

that it is personal.

these blessings are laced with similarities,

though no two are alike.

(with one another as well as with the blessings of 

living individuals--those that i have had the privilege to read.)

a couple share a couple things, a couple nothing at all.

but there's an overarching similarity in all of them.

as if they're all different branches of the same tree,

sprouting up in a myriad of individual combinations.

take three branches.

one may share similarities with both of the others.

one with only one of the others.

but they all somewhere have a mutual link--

the trunk from which they all emerged.

the one i read today is hard to read.

(literally--it's a copy of a page from an old book, written in abysmal handwriting.)

but there's a line that reminds me of another patriarchal blessing i've read,

and a line that reminds me of mine.

three different blessings for three different people at three different times in three different places.

and here they share wording almost identical in parts, 

though not in a place where you'd expect identical wording.

and something about all that inspires in me their divinity.

not because they're all different,

but because they're all woven from the same cloth.

it's the same God speaking to us all,

regardless of who or when. 

at first that seemed impersonal to me, but now it's what i cherish.

the constancy of God across time and space.

because when it all comes down to it,

regardless of how we visualize it

or by what means He personally manifests Himself to us,

it all comes and goes from the same God.

we all turn back to that God who breathes into us life.

highlights and lowlights and redlights and golights.

because a little listed summary is the only adequate way to include all the important things.

in no particular order, some delightful lights of the break are included, but not limited to:

+ jillian's sealing. (the most beautiful morning of light.)
+ megs being back in america for a little minute. (can't even. those armknechts, though.)

+ fabfour reunion and an impending #apartment210 reunion. (i can't get over these women.)
+ break being one week longer than the byu one i'm used to. (more than a day after new years? what?)

+ having my first entirely solo session go supa well. (we gonna be bessst friendzzz.)
+ being just as entertained by the 'science experiment' as my client. (and the toy dinosaur that helped us.)

+ reading and reading. on my time. by my choice. the little things, you know? (i highly recommend the giver.)

+ naterson. (i mean. i know. right? i know.)

+ family parties. (and getting to know his delightful fambam.)
+ shnuggletimeourturn. (never gets old.)

+ movies. so many movies. (with a harry potter marathon on top.)
+ chinese food for dayz. (pass the sweet and sour chicken, please.)

+ dinners and laughs with laurs. (we're hilarious.)

+ christmas eve traditions. plus one. (the night before christmas is a crowd favorite.)

+ so many occasions for playing rosatheviolin of my own accord. (and fingers remembering things i forgot.)
+ jenniferannemariemckay. enough said. (cosmic soul connections.)

+ twinkle lights and the poinsettia quilt. my favorite place on a cold winter's night. (always.)

+ visiting with renaenae. (and. logan is literally in the middle of nowhere. how does anyone survive??)

+ the symphony. (always makes me heart-eyed. i really adore evenings at the symphony.)

+ sleeping in. naps. sleeping some more. (sometimes i think i spent the whole break asleep. opa.)

the only lower lights?

- it's january. (my januaryhatred is real. not over it. never over it.)

- snow. everywhere. (is winter over yet?)

- break ends.in three days. (i just.can't.even.)

lessons from the orchid.

i had this incredibly eloquent and poetic little ditty that i planned to write back in september--

a little something about my orchid.

it was all written in my head, multiple times over.

and yet.

i never wrote it.

it never came out into tangible words,

and i think that in and of itself means.

(the capital-m-significant kind of means.)

it all started back in july when i was at an all-staff meeting for work. i was still fairly new to the organization, but they had mini-presentations on some of the main company values--one of which is hope. as a part of this, the woman presenting had an orchid on the table as she discussed both having and instilling hope in the individuals with whom we work and their families. because when we truly hope? we expect with confidence. because deep down, a hope is an expectation of good things to come. 

at that time, i was in a place where i was feeling a little bit stuck as a human--caught on a plateau in the line of progression. in that moment, though, my eyes were opened to the glory of the field i am pursuing. furthermore, to knowing that i would ultimately far surpass where i stood in that present moment. the glory of a versatile speciality and the possibility of all that stood before me.

belief in tomorrow is how we bear the hardship of today. all things are bearable by the means of hope. somewhere inside there, the orchid became a symbol for that attribute. and so i decided right then and there that i want an orchid in my room. so that i may see that even if some things fail, i still have the power to succeed. because. HOPE. like the orchid.

i came home and mentioned that i want to have an orchid in my room, and a few weeks later my mom came home with one for me. an orchid of one's own for a room of one's own. as i began to watch this orchid, though. i found so much more inside her than i ever anticipated.

if you look closely, you'll see that the roots of the orchid inside that pot are quite a tangled mess. for all its straight-up, no-nonsense appearance of simplicity, those roots are a mangled piece of work. and yet? the orchid grows onward. blossoms sprout and bloom. it just keeps growing. hope against hope.  despite those messy roots, she just kept on growing, even when i thought there was no more in her. hope.

there's life in this house. that was the conclusion i made. various plants all around and an orchid that wouldn't stop growing. life all around as i began a new life of my own. this was back in august and september. back when i was all filled up with hope. i had all these hopes with school starting for change and new life. all these pressing impressions and progress that were coming to fulfillment.

well. there was change, alright--but no life inside. rather, a dead and haunted kind of life. plants filling a chilly living room, that seem to be a fake kind of forevergreen. cold air filling the main floor--the very places that represent communion. i waited for something, and that something died. (cue this song.) so i waited for nothing, and in nothing i lived. despite so many strivings for multiple months, everything remained strange. despite any attempts to create and be open to connections, i was left in isolation. in a way different than i've ever experienced in my life. the details aren't important. only to know that i was in a perpetual odd state. as if i was suffocating in my own universe. my own soul being squelched from who i truly am or have potential to be. almost like unto cold mountain.

it wasn't just about school or those with whom i lived or my ward, though all certainly played a part. it was about everything. all pieces of my universe that were in an odd state of upheaval. and at times, i began to blame myself. that it must be my fault. that i must not know how to build a life or make lasting friendships anymore. even when turning on my kremcharm and my sparkling baby blues, nothing changed.

this is a succinct and far from all-encompassing description. only to say, it was a weird few months in ways both mentioned and not. because nothing arrived. and perhaps i wouldn't have minded so much, except for the hanging feeling that it felt something of some kind should have. which made it all the more frustrating. and so i was left inside my greatest fear: emptiness.

connection. for a time, that was the very thing i lacked in greatest abundance. people need people, you know? they just do. human connection. a place where voice matters, even if it's to express little more than occasional vocalizations. the connections i had were waning or gone, and i was left alone. isolated. at the time, any new connections for a long time were minimal. 

right on cue, as if in perfect harmony with life, by october my little orchid stopped growing.

i know it can seem extreme to make everything in life literary and piece out metaphors. but. my life often seems to be a perpetual metaphor. like the orchid that stopped growing, even though she seemed like she had a bud or two left in her. she couldn't grow anymore. 

ever since my mission, i've had dreams more than ever before in my life, including more than you'd think that are significant with a capital s. and in the midst of a dream that came in two variations in september was the discovery that i felt like i was suffocating. despite the lace curtains, chandeliers, and pretty walls--there was something not quite right about that house and me. something that just wasn't taking. (not even for me, the queen of cracking things open.) all my attempts at integration were rejected, like a transplant that wouldn't take.

i spent two months thinking about moving, having it perpetually in the back of my mind. and for a time, i felt i must stay. now, though. many things have changed in my life over the course of these past few months. and many things have changed in me. additionally, with all these changes allatonce [i can't even begin.], came so many answers in quick succession showing me so many explanations--socially, academically, spiritually. including one of the clearest answers and directions i've ever in my life received.

and so i moved again.

i don't know why. not really. not yet. i have a list of potential-why's, of course. a long one, really. why i was there, why i left. all the lessons in between that i've learned about myself, others, living, and God. (this included.) but also a lot of reasons why i could have stayed and been okay because of the life i built. just as i experienced over and over again in ukraine--as soon as things got going and the area i had whitewashed into was starting to bud into thriving blossoms, in that very moment--i moved onward.

here we are again. i listen to the wind on my soul. i always tell people to follow their hearts. wouldn't i be the worst kind of hypocrite if i myself didn't do the exact same thing? i did the work i was sent there to do, and now it's time to move on. it was right when i entered, it's right as i leave. it's time for me to go. more than twenty-four years of heart following hasn't failed me yet. and so, here we go.

if we're being honest, though--

i'm content to be passed around the world. i really am. my restless soul has become used to it.

but. sometimes. in quiet moments. 

my restless soul wishes she could just be for a moment.

because one of the deepest desires of my soul will forever be stability, at least in some small part.

finding and creating and holding tightly.

here's to hoping on the pieces of all the words i'll never dare say, but want so badly to trust.
(though, let's be honest. i dare to say things i probably shouldn't express so openly all the time.)

faith and reliance on greater spiritual stability than i've known in quite some time,

despite the whirlwinds of ambiguity that reign.

here's to hoping against hope.

#emily'sgoingtogradschool

a career in speech-language pathology challenges you

to use your intellect (the talents of your mind)

in combination with your humanity (the gifts of your heart)

to do meaningful work that feeds your soul.

-megan hodge.

if you were to ask me five years ago when i first entered the major why i switched and was choosing communication disorders, i couldn't have given you a clear answer. it seemed like a good career path. it seemed interesting to me. it seemed like a good idea. but i didn't know why. it just seemed right. it seemed like it was an excellent fit for my aptitudes. and i've spent these five years learning why--not only why i'm here in this field, but also why i'm staying.

four years ago i was recently-returned home from romania. that beautiful, blissful summer of mine in a little corner of eastern europe. that place where there never was a happier time. because i love people. i need people. not in the kind of way that i want them always around to interact with and learn their stories, though that's also true. but because of what comes from truly meaningful experiences when working with others--experiences that leave one or more of the individuals involved forever changed. because of what comes from facilitating growth in others and enabling them to become more fully who they have the potential to be--whatever that means in whatever the capacity.

because this work is all about people. individuals. it's about a study of communication in all its varieties and the repair thereof when something goes amiss in those dances of interaction. and so we marvel at that early dance of interaction. don't you love that? the early dance of interaction. because communication is completely and entirely socially driven. it gains validity and utility in interaction, whether that interaction be with oneself, others, or some piece of the surrounding environment. because when else do we communicate? it's always driven by some interaction, as earliest evidenced by that dance of interaction from infancy between caretakers and little babes.

i think the ability to effectively communicate can change the world--both the world at large and each individual among the millions of orbits of humans living lives of their own around the globe. because to be able to communicate is to be empowered to act for oneself. to be human. furthermore, to facilitate that process when some missteps are encountered in that process? well, to do so is to enable and empower someone else. and so we study disorders of communication. this is why the field of speech-language pathology exists, in its multi-faceted spread of opportunities.

and, you guys! it's just so. dang. fascinating. every little piece. in all the courses i've taken as an undergraduate studying communication disorders, or in volunteer experiences, or even in my study of other languages. over and over again i see what it means to be able to speak. to have a voice and let it be heard. and in learning a language foreign to my own mother-tongue, i have experienced multiple times small glimpses of what it means to have one's voice muted for a time. to be frustrated and trapped inside oneself when there is an inability to communicate or express what's inside you and is itching to be let out. because a voice takes many shapes and lengths and breadths. a voice in speaking, yes. but also in writing, in art, in music. because those are all just as much communicative tools as words themselves, aren't they?

i could go on and on about why i'm shocked more people don't become a part of this rewarding, meaningful, challenging, and beautiful line of work. (to say nothing of the incredible job security.) literacy, voices, articulation, neurological disorders--these are just the tip of the iceberg of areas of the field that exist. in addition to the fact that i so earnestly need to be part of meaningful things in my life, lest i go completely insane from being mired in selfish or insignificant daily acts. but i'll stick with the gratification of knowing that i'm lucky enough to be a part of it. with knowing that the education i receive is empowering not only myself, but those whom i will be able to serve in the future, allowing me to be a force for good. all my experiences up to this point have worked together to lead me to being always among people. with individuals. with being enabled by my own experiences and skills to help others and truly change the course of their life. to empower. and grad school. well, grad school is just another step. perhaps the most important step. to truly enable me to facilitate real growth in both myself and others. and that? well that never stops being invigorating.

last october there was an information meeting at the university of utah regarding their master's program in speech-language pathology. october eighth, to be exact. and that was the day i knew. that was the day i became conscious of a desire deep within me more earnest than almost any other desire ever experienced. that's the day i realized how badly i really really want this. with all of my beating, significance-craving heart. i wanted to be a part of this field. a part of their program. a part of their clinic. a part of all of it. because i love the way they give a broad education that allows you to glimpse into every part of the field. because i love their clinic. because i love the professors. because i love salt lake city.

when i was in that meeting, i was overcome with the way being there made progress and growth and getting where i'm going feel possible. everything felt possible. and despite this program (no matter where you apply) being incredibly competitive, it was a profound recognition to realize that not everyone in the meeting would necessarily be my competition. more than that, i just fell in love with that place. and my soul was screaming that it needed to be there someday soon.

i'm a fairly easy-going person, driven almost entirely by pragmatics and perhaps sometimes flirting with the line of being too practical. more than that, i'm a minimalist. i like simplicity. and i'm far from materialistic. i don't want often. not in a real way, anyway. i want a drink on a hot summer's day just like anyone else, but i'll oblige to depriving myself of most things if necessary. because most things really aren't necessary. most of this modern world would be shocked if they ever truly discovered how little it takes to live. to keep surviving. but this. i wanted it so badly it nearly started gnawing its way through my skin. because it seemed like this program was screaming at me. because it seemed like i belonged there. in ways i myself could hardly explain, i knew i had to go there. and i wanted it so badly, despite only a certain portion of getting there being in my control.



i worked my tail off. i volunteered in specific areas of the field more interesting to me. i studied. i researched schools over and over again. i did things like an internship in romania not because it looked good on a resume. (though i can't lie that i'm grateful it does.) i did it for the experience. because it just seemed right. because it seemed so important to my life and who i am, who i'm becoming. in addition to being, on a simpler level, incredibly appealing to me. suffice it to say. i worked because i wanted to. because i cared about these things. because these are things that were worth being exhausted for and getting out of bed to embrace each morning. because i really, truly love it. because it starts a fire in my blood that courses out of my heart and burns through my veins.

and after all that wishing, and dreaming, and hoping, and praying (plus incredible amounts of hard work, late nights, and that horribly tedious application process), i got my letter to my own kind of hogwarts. back in march. march sixteenth. (i know it's august now. lifebebehindlikethatsometimes.) and while i pretended to consider my options, i was granted what i'd always wanted all along. my choice was simple, and i always knew. now. i get to study as part of an incredible program in a city that i love. last week i was in the clinic observing, and before i left i met a professor with whom i had a great little discussion about the field, autism, being in school, and how great it all is. it was thrilling. and he said in all his years in the field, he's never been bored. and let me just tell you. there's nothing so invigorating about that either. i'm so excited i could burst.

because.

hashtag. emily'sgoingtogradschool.

(now trending.)

(and yes. these photos are real life. i don't even know what came over me. #shameless.)

buckets.

the thing about the orem location of one of my jobs this summer, 

is that it's meant being able to see megs so often because of proximity to her home.

which is to say, it's practically down the street.

a hop, skip, and a jump, if you will.

(the armknechts love me. obviously.)

i have a million things worth writing about, 

and i'm hoping i eventually get around to it.

but until then, we must be satisfied with snippets.
including the fotochki from some mountainingwithmeg.

because what's a blog for, if not for a vain gathering of photos of yourself and those you love?

come on. 

it's for posterity's sake, guys.

you know?
and because we like swings and parks and shakes and mountains and sunflowers.
and each other, obviously.

and there's for our vanity's sake.

because isn't megs a baaaabe?

(we're so vain. and the song actually is about us.)

it's mostly for posterity.

but maybe alittlebit because we and the mountains are pretty.

because life is about finding whatever it is that fills your bucket, you know?
like days with meglet.
snoconesandshakesandmountainsandlaughs.