lemon drop

"'Would you care for a lemon drop?' 'A what?' 'A lemon drop. They're a muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.'"

Why yes, Dumbledore, I would love a lemon drop.

mmmm.

M

Running is an amazingly cathartic experience for me. Side note: I realize that it is not for everyone, but I do think that everyone has something that makes them feel this way and if you don't please (I beg of you!) find something that does. I have had some of my most profound, spiritual, "ah-ha", thought-provoking experiences while running. At any given time I have felt heartache, triumph, pain, exhilaration, joy, freedom and despair while running. I have learned so much about myself, humanity, God, and nature because of running. It clears my head, relieves stress, empowers, calms, enlightens and frees me. I feel more alive when I run.

A few years ago I ran the Wasatch Back with my sister and some of her friends. As I neared the end of my first, longest and hottest, run I reached a hill that I had not been anticipating. My heart dropped as I reached the bottom and looked up. I cannot do this. One of the women on my team jumped out of the car as I approached, no doubt with my heartache etched all over my face, and without a moment's hesitation said, "hey, I'll run it with you." My first response was to decline her offer. I had to run this hill, only me. But she insisted. I don't think I would have made it up without her. 

After that run, I sat in the back of the truck with another teammate as we cheered on our next runner. We talked about how running is so much like life. We can cheer each other on, we can lift and help, but ultimately each one of us must take those steps on our own. One of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands has one of my favorite lines, "but in the end the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself." When we run we push ourselves beyond what we think we can do (think this quote). It takes bravery and strength and it is something that you must do alone. What I realized those two crazy days of running in the heat, middle of the night, on no sleep, after sitting in a car for hours on end, was the power of those steps we all took alone to bind us together. I felt such a bond to those people around me. Everyone was cheering other runners on. Yelling words of encouragement, offering snacks and water. We were all apart of this race whether on the same team or not. We all had to run those steps, we understood what it felt like, and we were all bound because of it. Yes, I had to take those steps and in order to finish my run, only I could take them. But I then, as I often do now, I underestimated the power of people standing by my side, telling me that I could do it.

As I think about my life, I see those people that are watching out for me, praying for me, encouraging me, loving me. Yes we all must take steps in life alone, but without others (including and most especially the Lord) we would often fall short of finding the courage, heart and strength to carry on. There is power in relationships, in love and in people that transcends despair, doubt, and fear.

****

Yesterday I went for a short run before it was back to homework, homework, homework. I ran up to the bell tower. Side note: it's the perfect short run. You have two hills, a great view of campus, and stairs to do when you get to the top, then it's all down hill on the way back. When I reached the tower the sun was setting and everything was lit in the illumination of twilight. I looked over campus and thought, and so it begins, my last year at BYU. I thought about how much I have grown and changed, the experiences I've had, the people that I've met-oh the people that I've met! I would not trade in my BYU experience for anything, every joyous and heart-wrenching moment. I thought about how in a year I will know where I'll be going to graduate school. I'll have a new home and a new place to find joy in. This is the beginning of the end. Really I started doing my lasts this spring when I got my last ecclesiastical endorsement, but now, with my final year drawing closer, it is beginning to feel real. I have loved where I've been but now it is time to turn my head and my heart to a new time and a new place.

****

I have spent essentially my entire life in school. So much of what we term the "formative years" are spent in practice for real life (hence why we call them the formative years). We spend what seems like eternity becoming, learning, practicing, theorizing to then spend the rest of our lives doing and being (not that you do not or cannot learn or become later in life). So often I am so anxious to free myself from the bonds of school. The work it requires is never done. I itch to be doing something, not just talking about, learning or practicing it. 

Several weeks ago an excellent talk on freedom was given in sacrament meeting. The topic was given in light of the patriotic holiday, but rather than speak on "freedom from" as the speaker termed it, he chose to speak on the "freedom to." When we do not have capabilities or skills we are in bondage. We do not have the choice to give of time or talents or skills or heart that we do not have. But, when we learn and grow and practice, we are then free to choose to share of the things in which we have learned and grown in and perfected. Often, as we all are, I am anxious to get out there and make a difference, change the world, and help people. There are often small (but desperately important) things that we already have the freedom to do to help those around us. But when that help requires skills beyond our current ability, there is a time of learning, waiting, preparing, and sacrificing. When that preparatory period is over, we have more choices to help and act than we did before because we have the skills required. We are released from the chains of ignorance and helplessness and we have the freedom to act.

As I look toward the future I see many preparatory years still ahead. School can be overwhelming and frustrating. While I yearn to set my feet in the real word, I am beginning to understand the importance of this time in which I must keep my eyes wide and my mind open. I am giving myself more opportunities to act, help, and be free.

More on the subject can be found here, here and here.

M

citizens of the world

Allow me to indulge myself and step up onto the soap box for a minute. This is my blog after all.

I love the 4th of July; it has always been one of my favorite holidays. As I was enjoying our small town parade, watching floats with beauty queens and clone troopers with flags go by, I couldn't help but think about what a beautiful country we live in. I love that we are free to speak and act as we wish. There are so many people in the world right now fighting for such freedoms (think Egypt, Libya, Syria).

However, too often we use the freedom to think and speak openly to make close-minded assumptions about the world and the way in which it should (or does) run. As Americans (or as anyone belonging to any culture) we have a certain mentality about the right way to do things. We champion the individual spirit, efficiency, and hard work. We have a certain way of viewing the world. While everyone from anywhere has a certain way of looking at the world, Americans tend to have a harder time breaking out of that model to see that there are other ways of doing things. It's hard to imagine that there are other (and equally good) ways of viewing life and how to live it. Sometimes what we think is the right way is indeed just one of many right ways.

So this patriotic season, I challenge you to use your freedom to speak and think as you wish to dare to think differently. See the world in a new light and see others and their way of viewing life and work as things of beauty.

when I grow up

I want to be Kate Middleton.


love love love her style.


That's all.

M

PS please disregard the first picture on the link. I do not want to be a cowboy. She looks divine in all the other pictures however.

you must

read (or listen) to this. No one cannot help but smile and get lost in the charming characters and lovely language of this book.

Please.
You'll be doing yourself a favor.

You Know You're a Science Major When... (part iv)

While my list is not limited to just micro majors this time, it still belongs with my other installments:

• you have to have your hair back and wear closed-toe shoes and long pants EVERYDAY to school in the summer because of lab classes (as a result my wearable wardrobe has dwindled. I never realized how much I didn't wear those things until that's all I could wear)
• you spend $600 on books for a semester and think that is the best deal ever
• you have this natural bond with anyone you meet who is also a science major. They have been through what you've been through: Ochem, chem lab, physics, cell bio, genetics, etc. They understand your frazzled look, the glaze over your eyes, the chemicals still left on your hands, the 5 books in your arms, the NMR sheets sticking out of your binder. You have felt each other's pain (and occasional triumph). They are just as crazy as you are
• you joke about getting cancer from the chemicals in lab and then have a lively and informed discussion about all the things that are known carcinogens that are in the lab like it's no big deal
• People ask you what your major is and when you respond they exclaim, "ugh! that sounds terrible" "yes, yes, that's why I chose it you see, because it is terrible"

And a few that only a micro major would really understand:

• you see little seed pods that have fallen off of a tree and think to yourself, "those look just like the larvae that I spend two months injecting with the plague last semester"
• you go to the doctor and when you tell them that your cough was non-productive and that you have general malaise they say "okay, okay, what's your major?"

still loving little life and science (most days)

M