let go and know.

i'm wide awake and so alive, ringing like a bell.
tell me this is paradise and not some place i fell.
cause i keep on falling down.

just push me till i have to fly--i've shed my skin, my scars.
take me deep out past the lights where nothing dims these stars.
nothing dims these stars.

i want to let go and know that i'll be alright.
(car crash, matt nathanson.)

- - - -

a couple of weeks ago, i kept having dreams of being in car accidents. 

unexpected crashes.

another car pulling out in front of me much too quickly for me to be able to stop. 

being t-boned by a trax train that sent me spinning.

the car door caved towards me, but didn't touch me. 

i am always left uninjured. 

i decided it was born of so many things spinning in my life--

so many spinning arrows. 

that, and a fear of an unexpected, crushing fall. 

and yet. even in the crash. i always turned out just fine. 

last night i had a dream that i was going on another mission. 

this time to iceland. 

i think it was born of a subconscious desire to escape my current life. 

there are so many good things going, though, you see. 

and yet. the utter uncertainty of it all still gets to me.

the tolstoyan radical uncertainty, only manageable in perfect presentness. 

i am unsettled. about practically everything.

pick nearly any aspect of being alive inside my life,

and i am varying levels of unsettled.

somebody please promise me this is not a foreshadowing for the whole new year?
because dreams be putting a funk on the first few hours of a day.

but don't you worry. 

i also went back to sleep.and had a dream filled with sunshine and goodness.

so, you know.

dreams are weird things.

and everything really is (probably) going to be just fine.

the latter portion of long holiday breaks always makes me antsy.

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.

empty.

my life tends to be filled with more fear than faith these days.
(i'm working on it. i really, truly am. even if ye can no more than desire to believe.
the list of things i'm working on and imperfect at gets longer every day.)
in the closing prayer of the ces devotional last night,
the girl asked that we might be able to have faith in our futures.
(because, as it turns out, we're all scared.)

i'm more prone to wander than i think i am,
but i'm also less prone to wander than i think i am.

if you're a wanderer,
first i want to say, 'i love you.'

in ukraine, i developed a fear--
be it irrational or rational.
a fear of emptiness.
that holes in time and space will not be filled,
but left wandering empty streets.
because sometimes--sometimes it was empty.
there was a period of time in which i felt i'd been completely hollowed out.
as if one of those digging machines used in construction,
that probably has a more sophisticated name,
had been brought in to dig into every corner of my soul,
and emptied it out completely.

it was then that i became obsessed with gardens.
with real growth, living water, and also--sunlight.

maybe the plant wasn't dead.
maybe all it needed was some water and some light to bring life back.
(m. russell ballard.)

i need and crave meaningful, significant relationships.
i was never meant for shallow ways.
i feast on only the most genuine and sincere of connections.

i'm terrified of my life being empty.
of it never filling with all those things i'm striving for and desire.
because sometimes it's hard to have faith in our futures.
what will the future look like?
what if in all that striving, meaning, purpose, and fulfillment never truly comes?

what if everything slowly scatters and fades away?
others replacing and filling their lives,
and mine never to be replaced.
and i am left
behind.


empty.


that lack, that emptiness--
or even just the fear thereof,
it gives me heavy boots.

- - -

if we continue to plant and nurture in faith,
then gradually, over time,
the garden of our soul grows in beauty.
(l. whitney clayton.) 

it comes back to faith.
it always comes back to faith.
and faith means marching on.
hoping and trusting,
desiring to believe in all the light we cannot see.

come to my garden.
somewhere there's a single streak of green.

- - -

just some real talk.
carry on.

choosing.

the thing about a mission is that you choose. anyone should be sure that it's a choice of their own, but especially as a sister. there's no obligation whatsoever to serve full-time. in fact, when i made my choice, there were plenty choosing not to go.

the thing about a mission, though, is that also at some point--usually at the beginning--that choice made as a statement turns into a question. i chose this? because when you make the choice, you don't know. no one can see into the future. you make a choice based on a visualization that you create in your head that was made according to that which you attempted to predict. which, of course, is normal and good and right. i'm a firm believer in the power of visualization as a means to guide your desires and direct your choices. but then you get in there, and as you ought to expect, you encounter the unexpected and unimagined possibilities that are now reality and you say with a hint of betrayal, disbelief, and possibly disappointment all rolled into one: i chose this?

missions are an odd sort of alternate universe that highlight and force simplicity and minimalism in every aspect of who you are and what you do, because you're called out of the world with a singular purpose. and the effective fulfillment of that purpose requires picking everything apart and simplifying to the core basics of what you believe and the doctrinal foundations that guide your life. and in such an experience--choosing a mission and entering the field--the discrepancy between expected and reality is quite pronounced.

i'm not here to talk about missions, though. (feel free to lament that it took me three paragraphs to get here.) because while all of this is true, and i myself experienced it and lived to tell the tale (and, by choice, to not tell many a tale), i've been surprised at how much i now see the same experience hidden in far more places than anticipated. it was always there, of course. but not until now does it have a name and face like this each and every time.

the discrepancy between the visualized expectation and reality. everyone is guilty at some point or another of creating a prospective image of the future with details that are more than fuzzy--even when you know you shouldn't. perhaps especially when you know you shouldn't. because that's what it means to try to imagine the life you have ahead of you. because if only you could just see ahead--to imagine the first day of a new school semester or year as a whole, to imagine a career role in twenty years, to imagine an internship or job placement, to imagine a future spouse or family. there's power in that dreaming and visualization. because i believe in that searching for an image we create, we find which strokes of the paintbrush we couldn't manage without in addition to those that aren't so necessary as we once thought. and because in the formation of these choices, we allow ourselves to believe that brighter things really are ahead and it will all result in something glorious. those creations give something to believe in.

but what about that discrepancy from the image we've so painstakingly drawn? even when the picture is made with allowances for life's realities, it's still just a picture we've made. but. that picture. inside that picture are strokes of the heart of our desires. after you make a choice, and perhaps as part of making that choice, you design the idea--an image of what you want it to look like.

what do you want? the heart wants what the heart wants. what do you want?

Desires dictate our priorities, priorities shape our choices, and choices determine our actions.

The desires we act on determine our changing, our achieving, and our becoming.

Dallin H. Oaks, Desire.

and this is why we dream. our dreams are desires. our desires guide our choices. but. there's a difference between capital d Desires and lowercase d desires. what we want most (capital d) in comparison with something we think we want (lowercase d)--when in fact there's something ahead far better suited to our own personal interests, needs, and capabilities.



one of my jobs this summer is in a niche of this field that i always thought i wanted to specialize in and study in depth. in fact, i'd nearly planned on it, and nearly applied to a few other graduate schools because of an available specialty. if not that, then i'd find opportunity to work to further study and specialize in it once out working. because i'm good with puzzles and finding answers for what makes people tick. and. well. it's a passion of mine, really. and most of my experience revolves around this. (when i was in israel, there was a woman who was given a free pass by me for anything because even in israel, while it was still april she wore an autism speaks pin on her shirt every day. i'm not even a little bit exaggerating: free pass in my book.) and i love it. autism is fascinating to me, maybe because it is such a mystery and each individual is a different puzzle piece. there's so much we don't know, but also so much that we do. anyway. i'll save my autism obsession and observations for another lump of words. the point is, i love it. i love the individuals i've worked with who have autism, i love the individuals i've worked with in working with those who have autism. it's a beautiful, often indescribable, rewarding experience.

however. there are moments when in my head i say, with a hint of chagrined disbelief: i chose this? 

despite my love for it. despite my interest. despite my passion. despite my previous experience. despite all these stars that have aligned to bring me here. despite all that--this summer is showing me what i don't want to do with the rest of my life, not what i do. it's showing me what i love about speech-language pathology specifically rather than behavioral therapy.

and there's a place for that. there's something laudable in that. there's value in having this experience, and in the hilarious, darling, as well as draining moments that fill a day. (sometimes all within the same 10 second period.) and yet. there's something vexing about it too. i chose this?

because it's not what i expected it would be, even if i did choose this and it chose me. rather, it's not so much that it's not what i expected, because i have enough experience to know the face this work wears. what i didn't expect is how i feel about it now. what about that discrepancy of finding that it's not what i necessarily want to, or should, specialize in forever?

the answer to it all is that it all comes back to capital d Desires compared to lowercase d desires. and i have capital d Desires that matter most. and those lower case d's--well, those are only given placement when they allow for attainment of a capital d. and the capital d will always supersede lowercase d, even when we don't know why a lowercase d has to go--we just know that it does.

and this. this is the educating of desires. in choosing and living the image you've created, including the unexpected and unanticipated. because that's what it means to educate your desires--to come to know them and the faces they wear in every kind of light, in both the portrait you paint and the portrait that results. because in the education thereof, some lowercase d's are ultimately sent into extinction, and others rewarded a tenured position next to a capital d.

The Spirit of Christ teaches us that we must pray, that we must ask for the things that we seek. (...) But before we can do this with focus, we have to become aware of a multitude of defined or undefined, conscious or subconscious desires. We have to learn to bring them to our awareness, to analyze them, to categorize them, and to bring them in to order according to priorities. When we do not do this, we will be condemned to remain, in our prayers, on a superficial level, or even on the level of formality, where there are no answers or there are only imagined answers. But there are always hundreds of different desires fighting for supremacy within us. The act of categorizing them is a very painful, but needful act to become, in the eyes of God, a mature person and to be taken seriously. (...) When the Light of Christ is able to penetrate our hearts, prompted by the enlightened testimony of truth by a focused teacher, it will cause in us a state of awakening, an awakening of the real me, the child of God, so that we can learn to channel our desires to focus on our true needs.

F. Enzio Busche, Unleashing the Dormant Spirit.

paint that picture in colors or words. write them down. by all means, write them down. because the process of giving a color and shape to desires is in itself illuminating. it gives something to believe in. because before we start the education, we surely need to know what we're educating.

this is where desires fit inside our agency--in that choice of the desires we educate. because that is the true gift of agency: to use those desires and priorities as tools in making choices. because choices are personal and meaningful and important and it is the choices we make that our lives are created. and desire? well, desire is at the heart of absolutely everything. no wonder they always say, the desires of our hearts. the heart wants what the heart wants.

and when what you want turns out to not be what you thought you wanted? don't be dismayed. there's always another lowercase d waiting on standby. always.

what do you truly want?

вот это--желание наших сердец.

on being twenty-four.

sometimes i say that i feel old.
that i feel old with a tired that sinks deep down into my bones.
and people sometimes scoff at that--
you're only twenty-four! they say.
(up until yesterday, they would say just twenty-three.)
well, yes. yes i am.
that's still so young! they say.
well, yes. yes it is, i suppose. relatively speaking.
but different kinds of years have different miles in them.
and the old i feel is an old in my bones.
and there have been so many miles in almost all of my years.
because life in every essence has seeped deep into my bones.
ninety-three million miles. many the miles on my heartsoul.

that's what people keep saying when remarking on my birthday.
just look at all you've done and all the places you've gone in so few years! they say.
and they're right.
there's been so many miles in my twenty-four years of preferred-bare-feet.

i don't write as much as i should.
you don't have to write anything at all if you don't want. they say.
but i do, you see. it's not about want.
there's this place down in my heartsoul that tells me when and what to write.

i'm always a little bit saddened to see my may depart--
like unto the atmosphere that follows the day after christmas as the season transitions.
but i am always consoled by the fact that june is arriving.
i do love the months of march practically all the way through august.
but especially may and june--those two have my heart.

i wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always june.
(l. m. montgomery)

i have a hard time pulling things all together lately.
there are so many pieces of so many different thoughts without a home,
and so they sway through the winds of my mind.
because the reasons i write are twofold:
one. because of that place down in my heartsoul that brings the words to me.
two. because by the means of writing, i come to better understand.
not only understand, but bring order to all the different kites in the wind.
and i haven't been writing lately.
this year, i haven't really been writing.
sometimes the words come, but not in place where i can give them space.
or they come in place where i can give them space, but i can't figure out which place to give them.
so i only write snippets in weird places--
the borders of pages intended for notes in classes, planners, emails--
i write different pieces in weird places, and it never comes together.
i don't write as much as i should.

i'm at a transitionary stage. limbo.
#byugrad, you know?
if you asked me to paint a picture of what birthday will look like one year from now,
i couldn't.
i can hardly fathom--aside from knowing i'll be in my third semester and i'll be living in slc.
but those are only borders of a vignette, not a real picture.
and initially i'd think that maybe 2035 or 2055 would be easier for seeing a potential portrait,
but if i've learned nothing else in this year,
(and all twenty-four, for that matter.)
it's that absolutely nothing is predictable.
even that which seems predictable,
will always wear a somewhat different face than expected.
because that's what life is:
living one solitary day at a time and passing through life as it comes.
some days are beautiful, others are measly. completely crummy, even.
but those days are your life.
they make you to be who you are.

when people ask your age, they're looking for your chronological age:
the number of times you've traveled around the sun.
as if that tells them anything at all about what happened on your earth at any given moment of orbit.
i've seen some things in my twenty-four years that some people never see in their entire lives.
for that, i'm both grateful and dismayed.
because i've seen into the brightest glories of the heavens,
but also peeked into the deepest abysses of hell.
i haven't seen everything, though.
there are experiences i've had that others never will, yes.
but there are experiences others have had that i never will.

despite the universality of the human experience,
there's something both beautiful and slightly terrifying about the uniqueness of each human.
because no human experience is ever duplicated.
there are always differences.
of every human soul who has ever lived,
each has a different definition of what it is to be alive.
to each their very own existence.
and isn't there something overwhelmingly beautiful in that?

i'm twenty-four.
it feels old.
life is rarely easy.
but that's not what we signed up for, is it?
sometimes there are a lot more sad and uncertain days than joyful and secure halespaydays.
but i wouldn't trade a single one of my days.
because they are mine.
and while my life doesn't look on my twenty-fourth birthday like i once thought it would,
i've given up on painting portraits of life before it happens.
presentness, as tolstoy tutors.
cross the bridge when it comes and build a bridge over troubled waters.
it won't all go the way it should.
but we must always remember:
fear is a friend who's misunderstood.
and to come to understand your fears
(a lifelong process, i think.)
is to understand who you are,
even if it means having your heart thrown to the ground a few times.
in the end, this above all is what we are being taught:
the heart of life is good.
this i know.

and as i said yesterday, it really is a beautiful life.

because god is good.

he is oh, so good.

song of the day: the heart of life, john mayer.

to the people.

i much prefer time with people.
getting to know. associating with. talking.
with good eggs. good people.
conversations with strangers.
but.
it's a shame university doesn't give much of any time for that.
instead time must be spent avoiding the looming threat of drowning in academics.

the hanging balance, that has no one right answer.
people are always more important, i always used to say.
(i don't know what that looks like.)

so sometimes i choose people.
i choose them carefully, analytically, methodically.




i'm still recovering from my acquired guilt complex.

truths and honesty.

if i were into being completely and honestly truthful lately, there are a few things i would tell you. say we were sitting down to chat, dear reader. you and i in a quaint little bakery or cafe, or walking through a park. say you asked me to tell you about me and my life lately, and i was sworn to an oath of truth-telling and complete openness.

+ i would tell you how hard things have been lately. how much of a battle so many small moments can be.
+ i would tell you how i go to the temple, sometimes multiple times in one week, not in a desire to be ultra good or righteous, but in an act of desperation, feeling it as one of the few things that i'm capable of doing to combat the powers being actively exerted against me.
+ i would tell you how, no matter how hard i try to force my mind to be happy, there were multiple days in a row this week that i knew it was a lie, especially to myself. a lie that no one knew. but i wasn't really happy. and i didn't have a reason why. i just wasn't.

+ i would tell you that i feel like a failure with the decision to forego the french minor. that i feel frustrated when people question this decision with only two classes left, frustrated that they don't know what those classes would entail, and how much effort is involved in knowing or not knowing a language, particularly in my odd situations with languages lately. some people look at languages like an on/off switch that works like magic once you know it, failing to realize how quickly skills are lost. much quicker than they can ever be regained, especially when built on a less-than steady foundation.

+ i would tell you that i feel like a quitter for cancelling my gre registration to take it before leaving. i know it's for the best, but i can't help but still feel like a flake for signing up and then backing out 10 days before i was supposed to take it.
+ i would tell you about how i was frustrated with myself this week. because i recognized my uneasiness and unhappiness, and despite my active efforts to combat it, there were several days in a row that would have no such thing--despite bits of sunlight and earnest pleading for relief.
+ i would tell you that there is true power to be found in the temple, though not always as first expected or when first expected. and i would tell you how much it pains me when i see people turn their back on what has been revealed to them. because i sincerely don't understand how someone could, but at the same time, i completely do understand--and maybe that scares me.

+ i would tell you about the pure happiness that comes in having a second family named the wertz's. i would tell you about how melissa so willingly offered to go with me to the temple, and how she encouraged me even when i almost gave up on making it on time. if nothing else, that drive to and from salt lake was everything i needed. add in the time in the temple with melissa, the time in the celestial room with the wertz parentals, the dinner we shared, followed by joining will and laur for ice cream? well, that's called free family therapy, even when they have no idea of the effect their constant love and welcome has on me.
+ i would tell you about how much i savor the little moments, like laughter with lauren rose, sunny mornings, funny chats with my supervisor or my coworkers, gchatting with stevie and laurs, talking to our pet fish (oh yes, we have fish. goldfish.), or going to a musical with my grandparents that may have brought me near tears a few times.
+ i would tell you about how annoying, and yet slightly amusing, the stupid traffic school sort of thing i had to go to was. but, if we're still being honest, nothing can stay slightly amusing for four. straight. hours.
+ i would tell you about how alone i've felt lately, even--or maybe more especially--when surrounded by other people.
+ i would tell you about how ready i am to be gone, needing this next step in my life to begin. and about how out of control giddy and excited i get on occasion. other times, i just get near tears wayyy too easily with the weirdest things that cause it.
+ i would tell you about how i feel completely lost in this place in my life that i've never been in before, but despite this, about how surrounded i've been with tender mercies while in the process of making a new map for this unblazed road i'm on.
+ i would tell you about the tinge of sadness inside me that my time mentoring grace is now over, and how i'll look back on the past two years i've spent with her with incredible fondness and appreciation.
+ i would tell you about how much happier i've been on a few occasions lately. after spending time with my immediate family, or after my evening with the wertz's. and how weekends are a welcome relief.
+ i would tell you about the completely odd and irrational fears i have when it comes to my mission and being a sister missionary. or about my commitment issues with making any mission purchase.
+ i would tell you about how the past week or two, i can't stop thinking about the future right after i get home from my mission. and about my future someday hubby (and i'd hate myself for even being that girl and completely acknowledge how dumb i am as i told you this).
+ i would tell you about the healing and happiness that has consumed me, starting last night and today. and how much i hope it lasts. i would tell you how these are all things i'd never say, because i don't want pity. i just want understanding. and i want happiness and peace. something that at last is becoming fulfilled.

all of this, of course, in the entirely hypothetical situation in which i'd be completely honest.

something i'd never do when talking to a human soul and in a situation we're not in.

completely hypothetical, my dear reader.

truth.

aching hearts.

romania.
forever the cause of inexplicable amounts of joy and heartache.
and today, it's deep heartache.
say a quick (or long) prayer for my little ones today, won't you please?
they surely need it.
my love for them will never end.

quality rejection.

a man once told me i am an altruist.

in his own words,

i have an altruistic approach to life and a pure personality.

several very admirable qualities.

this same man also turned me down for the job.

and in the time i spent with him, gave the impression that i should have been

ashamed or embarrassed by my time spent in romania and my ultimate career goals.

like they're not positions to be proud of or respected by society.

i'll just add it to the (ever-enlarging) pile of rejection letters i've acquired in my life.

and the (ever-enlargening) list of strange experiences.

time and seeing.

when i started this bulletin project, it was mostly to have a place to store all these quotes. at the time, i thought little more of it. i typed a bunch up, and have them scheduled to be posted each day, at least through september until i get a chance to finish typing the rest. as i look at them as they unfold themselves, i find myself excited to see what new insight each day will bring, and i'm amazed to see how fitting they are for each of my days. and how powerfully frappant (sorry. i can't think of how to express this in english.) they are to me and for my life. things i need to hear. things i need to remember. sometimes i wish i could see more of my life at once, have more of a perspective--an eternal perspective on things.
the first quote posted was: 'to see takes time.' by the lovely georgia o'keefe. and, well, sometimes giving things time requires enormous patience. and sometimes, i'm running out of patience. you see, my life is in a bit of a funk as of late. a disconnected and unhappy funk. in some things, i am genuinely unhappy, and i can't fully figure out why. i can't figure out what my problem is, or what i should do to change things. i have ideas. and i'm trying not to focus on the things that i outright know are bugging me. i try to look past them and focus on the blessings in my life. focus on the lessons learned in romania, and in life. focus on the inspirations i've had in the past year, and on all the little miracles and tender mercies that remind me just how aware god is of my current situation. i've had a few little ones this weekend.
by the same token, however, i feel rather alone as of late. there is a difference between loneliness and solitude. solitude is usually something i savor and relish in, as well as time spent with loved ones and friends. lately, however, i feel loneliness filling that space instead, in a different sort of way. alone and disconnected from even those who were once closest to me, because their lives have changed and my life has changed. with those changes, however, i'm still in limbo. and limbo is becoming something i detest. not just hate. detest. and my life is in limbo. a disconnected and hanging kind of limbo. or something like it.
quote from my journal last week: "taking care of 11 romanian children with disabilities plus many more babies throughout the summer is infinitely easier than worrying about my own life, where it's headed, and how i get there."
quote from my journal last night: "life feels so lonely lately. i'm surrounded by people, and yet, i still feel alone in so many ways. the people i used to turn to and relate to best have now moved on and have significant others or spouses. and i'm just alone...today was a nice, refreshing spiritual boost, but i still don't quite feel at peace."
and this is my life. i try not to focus on the things that make me unhappy, and the uneasy feelings. but sometimes, i think feelings like that are there for a reason and there to be noticed, and because of that, there's something to be changed or learned from. and i can't figure it out. i thought i was a fairly intelligent human being. maybe not.
on the bright side i really like my classes, and i really like being in so many major classes. and feeling like i really do like my major, even if it won't be easy. i really like sunshine. i got in my car this afternoon, and it was roasty warm. i relished in the heat on my skin. whenever i think i might be too warm, i envision myself in romania, walking up the hill to the hospital, and i let the heat seep through every fiber of my being, trickling through from the surface of my skin and into the blood coarsing through me, relishing in those moments. (more on romania at a later date.)
on the not so bright side, i'm considering an edit of sorts to my educational goals. which could complicate life. but in other ways could make it simpler (ultimately). we'll see.
am i being cryptic?
my specialty.

The Lord loves us and answers our prayers.

He delights in blessing those who are faithful,

but in His own time and in His own way.

sister kristen oaks.

traits i can't stand:

people who are:

arrogant

selfish

ungrateful

ignorant

judgmental

obnoxious

rude

and/or

shallow.

that is all.

changes, never been good with change.

sometimes i forget that before a new adventure can begin, there are a whole lot of goodbyes involved.

and maybe, just maybe, i forgot how hard goodbyes can be when it comes to people you love.

maybe because i haven't had any real goodbyes in so long? mostly just a lot of hellos.

what a (long, good, awful, sad, melancholy, hard, happy, satisfying, emotional) day.

i may or may not have cried once i got into my car and was by myself. yeah. 

"all changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy;

for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves;

we must die to one life before we can enter another."

anatole frances

i've been feeling that sort of melancholy a lot this week. and this quote applies (almost creepily) to every aspect of my life.

today and these next few weeks are just another life dying.

a part of me lost forever.

see you on the flip side.

reasons why i should be crying right now. but am surprisingly jolly instead.

i am a resident of crabapple cove.

sarah kept sending me texts that made me laugh. out loud. in public. which gets embarrassing after awhile.

my headband snapped (very) soon after leaving my apartment this morning. and i could not get ahold of any a bobby pin, despite my creative attempts. this is called a hair  DISASTER. disaster isn't even a strong  enough word for it. and then even after aislynn had a bobbypin, i walked home in strong wind. enter disaster #2. when i walked in the door, sarah just burst into laughter when she saw me. nothing else, just laughter. i know, right?

i was the awkward one with no group during that awkward moment at the end of romanian today we were given to put ourselves in groups. don't pretend you don't know what i mean. that awkward moment when you're left to your own devices and it's just like being in a line picking teams in elementary school again. i know.

lauren doesn't talk to me very much anymore. we have communication issues. obviously.

i think people think i'm weird. like, i know i'm weird. but i think i'm just more aware of it lately. like, i'm suuuper duper weird. it's a hard knock life.

i went with kaitlin to brick oven to use my giftcard. and while there, started laughing. when lemonade was in my mouth. thereby blocking my ability to breathe. yeah, use your imagination from there. humiliating.

my umbrella broke. despite the fact that it's pouring rain outside. i repeat, POURING.

i'm a girl. i'll leave that at that. not ideal.

i have an exam to take tomorrow. that i probably won't fail. quite. and an anatomy quiz that i probably will. maybe. i hate this week.

i think my breain needs a break. i just spelled brain wrong. I KNOW.

finals start one month from today. crap.

and yet i'm in a surprisingly good mood. go figure. good thing. otherwise i'd be crying, i think.

today stinks.

thoughts of late.

some recent thoughts that have flitted across my mind in the last few days:

-- i love my major. but my classes, regardless of how much i love them, need to be over soon. or i at least need a break from them. seeing as we don't get a break, i'll take the over option.
-- i leave in 53 days. and quite frankly, at this point, i just really need to go.
-- there is no crueler or sadder disease than alzheimer's/dementia in general. for the patient and the loved ones.
-- i want to make everyone in the world watch temple grandin. incredible.
-- as of late, i can't stop listening to 'the finish line' by train. "when we learn how to fly, we forget how to fall. here we are." it's so sad, but captivating. that's all.
-- what's my problem? i could win an award for how much i've dropped the ball lately. this is not me. i don't even understand. my brain has apparently shut down. reboot, reboot, reboot, please?
-- i have 2 exams and 1 quiz that's practically an exam. all before next monday night. two of which before the end of tomorrow night. i love life.
-- i've been a resident of crabapple cove lately. i'm not a crabby person. usually. i'm working on it.
-- did i really agree to what i agreed to? apparently. oh dear.
-- there is no thought or feeling in this world worse than the moment you realize you are replaceable.
-- i temporarily uncrabbified (yes, i know that's not a word. just roll with it.) last night. and laughed a lot. slash giggled. floats my fancy.
-- why is it that whenever i see a fellow i could slightly fancy, is when i look the most disgusting? story of my life. oh, well. it's nice warning for whoever i marry. considering that the "greasy/gross mind of its own hair thing" is most days of my life.
-- crawling in a hole for an extended period of time would be ideal right now. is it too much to ask for a little bit of shut eye? apparently so.
-- ............................yeah.
-- i miss being little. i miss the moments my entire family would be sitting around our round table laughing. all of us. and then me spitting water out from laughing. or doug spilling water towards me. and then some more laughter. i miss that. way back when. when i was way younger. give or take.
-- i couldn't do it permanently. but often i'm jealous of people still living at home. life is so much easier that way.
-- romania will be a dream. i can already tell that our group is going to be great. and we will become tight(er). like sprite, duh.
-- in some ways, romania feels like an opportunity to run away. a breather for awhile. i'll take it. i think that's part of what's so enticing. being completely isolated with just a few people. away from the daily hub-ub here.
-- i have a class in 11 minutes. that is a review. that i need to go to. but don't want to.
-- breathe. just breathe. why must this week be so ridiculous? then again it's not any more ridiculous than many other weeks this semester. maybe now that it's the last exam week i have i'm just more weary of it all.
-- bleehehhhhhhhh.
-- i'll be fine, this time. i'll be fine, whoahhohhh. song ending. that's my cue.

yeah.

open your eyes.

"nothing goes as planned. everything will break.

people say goodbye in their own special way.

all that you rely on and all that you can fake,

will leave you in the morning, but find you in the day.

...

oh, you run away cause i am not what you found.

...

everything will change, nothing stays the same.

and nobody here's perfect. oh, but everyone's to blame.

all that you rely on and all that you can save

will leave you in the morning and find you in the day.

...

everything is dark. it's more than you can take.

but you catch a glimpse of sunlight shining down on your face.

...you're in my veins, and i cannot get you out."

--andrew belle, in my veins.

"open your eyes now, it's time to see

if you still believe in me.

open your life now,

i'll try to be all that you need me to be

she'll be a star now,

i will follow her lead.

she'll be a scar now,

i will still let her bleed."

--andrew belle, open your eyes.

what would i have done if morgan had never introduced me to andrew belle?

my life speaks in lyrics and music when i am too tired to formulate my own words.

nothing.

today was the day i waited for nothing.

in all honesty, almost expected nothing.

and nothing came.

"it's so much colder than i thought it would be,

so i tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on.

wish i'd never grown up.

i wish i'd never grown up.

...

i don't want to grow up, wish i'd never grown up.

it could still be simple."

-taylor swift

take pictures in your mind.

never grow up.

because things are no longer simple.

and you find your soul suddenly at peace

with something you never thought you would or could be.

change is in the air.

but for now,

time to tuck myself in.

and enter the world where no one's ever left me hurt, and dream.

somewhere over the rainbow where troubles melt like lemon drops.

longest day ever is complete.

it's so quiet in the world tonight.

deals. dealbreakers. deal.

i still haven't found what i'm looking for. u2.

sometimes the very thing you're looking for is the one thing you can't see. vanessa williams.

sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. the fray.

seemingly easy and simple decision? wrong.
seemingly unsensitive topic for anyone? wrong.
it's everything and nothing all at the same time. and i wish i could just call friends or family and ask for their advice of what to do. or have my mother make my decisions for me as mothers do for young children in the early years. but i can't. i just can't. i'm realizing that this is a decision i need to make myself. unfortunately. i'm not good with decision making. maybe this is why? i have to decide for myself. disregarding the piped in emotions of anyone or everyone else. idealized and realistic are very different things. in an ideal world, i would pick each detail by my own choice and be content. but ideal world doesn't account for the fact that everyone has their own life. their own relationships. their own choices. their own preferences. their own paths. i'd like to live in ideal world. life would be much simpler.
why is this such a big deal? i feel like i'm overreacting.
and yet-for me, for my life, for a reason i don't know-it is a big deal. a very big deal.
inspiration, please come quickly.

concerning healing:

the following quote fits very well with this, wouldn't you say? love.

"out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;

the most massive characters are seared with scars."

--kahil gibran

in addition, this fits quite well too.

jenny showed this to me and carly last semester.
it's an exhibit in the basement of the moa right now.


healing 1. by brian knep.


"Healing 1 looks like a glowing carpet or mat with a unique organic pattern. When it encounters a foreign body, such as a gallery visitor, the pattern on it pulls away, creating a wound. When the foreign body leaves, the pattern heals itself and the wound closes but the sides of the wound never actually touch. A scar remains—a memory of the interaction between the visitor and the mat. Over time the scar may be eradicated, but it has a permanent effect on the pattern's growth."


it seriously is one of the neatest things. both in walking on it, and thinking of the meaning behind it. i am no eloquent orator. and i wish i had a way of expressing the feeling behind the art. the meaning in it. scars fade. memories fade. and yet, every experience--especially the most significant ones--leave a tremendous mark on who we are as a person. scars and experiences that form and influence one another. for better or for worse, those scars are pieces of who we are. it's not about your scars, it's all about your heart. what you let your heart be shaped into because of the scars you find yourself faced with. it's defining.

twenty and ten.

2 0 1 0.

january:

i had no major. and had no ideas.

i was instantly terrified by my

french grammar class of rm's.

i met the new semester with

two new roommates. courtney

and i were of course apprehensive.

turns out it was without cause.

mamma cass and claira poo=lovely.

and they were both simply

themselves from the get go.

i love that.

i suddenly found politics fascinating.

state of the union.

i realized how far courtney

and i had come. and how much

i love her for who she is.

i fell in love. kinda. but really.

{see here.}

he'll never know.

tragedy struck in haiti. but

an incredible compilation

of music resulted. one that

brought me to tears in

listening to it in its entirety.

hope for haiti now.

february:

i obsessed over hey,

soul sister. by train.

i made some realizations about

who i am and my role in

various positions. a very

humbling realization.

i realized how important

true friends are. never stop

to think what's in it for me.

olympics. need i say more?

i increased my obsession

with mormon messages.

like, went crazy. they're so

addicting and wonderful.

i played rosa (violin) again for the

first time since june 2009.

march:

i started discovering more

and more about france. and

completely loving every bit.

and wishing i was there. dang

french class of people that have

been there recently.

springtime showed up.

sort of. tempting.

and then it snowed.

music spoke to my soul.

almost more than any other

time in my life. souviens-toi.

new world symphony.

among others.

michelle jean came to visit.

we made lots of cupcakes.

i decided on a major as well as

a minor that i love. and is

completely perfect for me.

april:

i made easter eggs with

cassi & courtney. and

we all went as crazy as

ever over we are the world.

i took an interior design tour

of pretty places. and of my own

will took a photo of the provo

tabernacle. little did i know how

much that photo would mean

to me 8 months later.

cassi and i bonded some more

over how ridiculous physical

science is/was. and then we

studied like crazy for the

final. darn tricky.

fruitcake friday.

sara and whit.

need i say more?

no.

i moved out of my apartment.

and said farewell to many for

four months.

we took pretty roommate pictures

as well as tri-apartment pictures.

(174, 172, 171)

i finished finals and science

credits for the rest of forever.

i didn't ace french grammar.

but i sure as heck learned

quite a lot. and loved the class

with all my heart--people

in it and professor.

i realized that some things

will never change.

may:

i spent the entire month

searching for a job. and

doing a whole lot of nothing

in between.

and then i experienced

ultimate rejection. 3

interviews followed by,

unfortunately, rejection.

i completely changed all

my plans and decided i'm

going to romania next summer

to work in an orphanage and

hospital. and therefore decided

to take classes summer term.

i turned 19. and received

sunflowers as well as a 

package from hurdland.

june:

i went to st.george with my

mommy. and pieced together

and made an entire quilt. as

well as spending some divine

time biking through the empty

streets on warm evenings.

doug & sherry got engaged.

la and i took a visit to the

capitol and she came to visit.

among many other moments

throughout the year. which

don't all get specific mention

because there were too many.

smith's was selling the poofy

sunflowers. so i of course

bought some. i love fresh

flowers. there's nothing

that compares.

i realized that it had been

an entire year since

graduating from high school.

and then realized how much

in my life has changed since

then. which is slightly weird.

my daddy entered the hospital.

and was there for 10 days.

i started summer term. and

then was amazed at how

much of a difference it makes

between classes of interest and

no interest. summer classes?

major interest. i loved them.

july:

i went to stadium of fire with

the hales side and laur.

wedding plans--full speed ahead.

claira and i supercharged the

amount of time we spent

together. like really. we weren't

living together technically. but

you would think we were.

major bonding. and we learned

close to everything about each other.

claira and i went up to aspen grove

and had bread and cheese.

followed by a trip to salty lakey

to see the joseph smith movie.

i wore a dress almost every

single day of the month.

on a trip to claira's grandma's to

pick up a sewing machine, we

discussed how adorable that

house is and how much we want

a house just like it.

there were lots of good days.

and i spent the entire month

(almost) completely barefoot.

more than any other month.

because it was a complete month

of school. rather than a partial

month like june or august.

my life was consumed by school,

wedding plans, and daddy's recovery

and the wedding arrangements.

august:

princess claira turned {18}.

and hid it from all the world.

and then she got her wisdom

teeth out. and was the loopiest

thing on this planet for a few

hours. and then it wore off

completely and totally.

i learned some more about

claira. and her family. and

her past. and i learned a lot

of grown up lessons that day.

ok, so i wore a dress almost

every single day of august

as well.

WEDDING. i love weddings

that are supposed to happen.

happy weddings. so happy.

i love love.

st.george with soul sister.

heavenly. as well as doing

a whole lot of nothing.

i loved it. let's go back.

i talked to steven on the

phone almost every night in

st. george. no wonder.

some people think we're dating.

little do they know, we are siblings.

oopsay on them.

the term of miracles. summer

term, i mean. it was miracles

that i got straight a's. a miracle.

i came awfully close to heaven

throughout the summer. and year.

i got the biggest and worst

sunburn of almost my life.

and was absolutely miserable.

it was gross. darn st.george sun.

i went to and from california

plus a wedding reception in

three days. I-80 is a loong

and boring road.

the first day of fall semester

was hilarious. and i realized i was

in deep waters with two

different french classes.

september:

i freaked out a lot about french.

pretty sure that could almost sum

up the entire month. or semester.

whatevs. it's all the same.

the freak outs led me to

question why i'm even taking

french still. and feel like a

complete moron a lot.

harold and i became

really really good friends

throughout september.

beerrocks for the first time

in months. yeah, baby!

i fell in love with asl. which was

the first class taken as part of my

major. and everything started to

feel completely right. with my

major, at least.

the weekly temple wednesdays

began. and continued throughout

the semester.

i missed laursy a lot. and i

missed family a lot more than

any time throughout my freshman

year. why? i don't know.

life seemed kind of bleak a lot.

the night is always darkest just

before the dawn, they say.

it is.

the surprise visits from la

began. and i loved it.

i got really close to heaven

some more. identity crises

and hard times in general

tend to do that.

october:

la and i went to conference

together. and then she showed

me one of her favorite places.

which is now one of my favorite

places in the world. it was what

you could call a very good day.

steve and la had fall break.

something byu doesn't

believe in.

thanks to my free friday schedule

this semester, i spent a three day

weekend up in park city with

laur the week of her fall break.

and we found a heaven on earth

place. a secret place. that we love.

lamb love.

commence the josh groban

and joshua radin phase.

surprise visits with la, of course.

i took courtney on a tour of my

own version of salt lake.

and we almost died in the rain

and fog up parley's. it was

completely worth it.

michelle jean visit plus going

to international cinema. haaa.

halloween. poodle skirt. iceberg.

and harry potter.

november:

i fell in love with my french

classes. eventually both of

them. completely and totally.

everything about them. almost.

the world was beautiful.

and life was good. though

very busy.

i got my first f on something.

and it completely flattened me.

following which i lost a lot of

motivation as thanksgiving

approached. bad news.

after spending too much of the

semester almost musicless,

i found a few new obsessions.

a lot, actually. and went crazy.

more like obsessed over a few songs

and played them over and over.

you've got mail. yeah.

i pretended to go the u for a

couple of days. don't worry.

i didn't fit in very well.

but had fun with soul

sister anyway.

harry potter 7 came out. so

i stayed up till 5 in the am that

day. it was worth it. i love

harry potter. who doesn't?

soirée familiale [fhe] at mme.

petelo's. and of course i fell

completely in love with her

adorable mini french kids.

and that sealed the deal with

her. even though i wasn't a fan

of 322, and was grateful to pass,

i loved her with all my heart.

she's charming.

don't worry. i love m.unlandt

as well. he's full of so much

knowledge it's insane. and

speaks a ridiculous amount

of languages. i'm jealous.

in case you didn't notice, this

semester was consumed by

french. completely. plus

a little asl love in between.

but then again the asl love

lessened as the semester went on.

if nothing else, i loved the weekly

time i spent with sherry. it was just

right as time to get to know her a

whole lot better now that she's a

sister-in-law. she's lovely.

december:

it was cold. very very cold.

i made some sad realizations about the

status quo of things. of relationships.

and it made me really sad. but

all is well again. and that's

what matters.

my roommates and i had

sleepovers in mine and kaitlin's

room. which meant moving

mattresses. which barely fit in

our room.  hilarious.

uhhh finals. studying. exhausted.

is there more to be said?

yeah, that's what i thought.

motab christmas concert! as

well as everything about the

christmas season. i'm seriously

obsessed. the lights. the music.

the spirit of it all. it's so

incredible. and i miss it already.

i went to white christmas

at pmt (pioneer memorial

theatre). and thomas s. monson

and family as well as dieter f.

uchtdorf and family were

a few rows behind us.

also, i love christmas, so i

loved everything about the

show. though i love the movie

more, i still loved being there

with family and laur.

christmas eve at grandma's!

i love christmas.

victor, my kindle. i love it.

i went to color me mine with

the goils. i love that place.

laur peaced out to california

for the remainder of the break.

but before that we had some

nice moments watching chick

flicks and feeling pathetic

about our lives.

i watched a ridiculous amount

of movies. believe me when i

say ridiculous. that's what the

break is for, isn't it?

deborah ann and i realized that

we are soul mates. and we had

a sleepover over the break. so

great. we love good music.

relaxation divine and a very sore

back later from sleeping on couches,

i'm 60% done with jane eyre.

and christmas break is 99% done.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

this was a year of many ups and downs. but what year isn't? it went by fast. faster than any other year. especially the last half of it. and the last quarter. suddenly it's over, and part of me is still back a few months ago. not here. i want another christmas. i met some people. i lost some people. i got closer to some other people. and i loved every minute. because i think that's what life is, isn't it? a little bit of losing for a whole lot of winning. winning relationships with friends and family that take work. ohh, do they take work. but maybe that's the point. i don't think we'd appreciate anything at all if it didn't take a little bit of work to get there. or a whole lot of work. it's those trial moments that define us. it's in those moments that we become who we are. and we have a choice of where we let it take us. and as mr.magorium says, your life is an occasion, so rise to it. and maybe that's what a new year is all about. rising. ever upward and onward to what your life is or can become. rise to your life.