{un}published part iv

while I'm waiting for my voice to speak new words, I thought I'd add another installment of thoughts I started, but never finished. Once again, I left them just as they are. I think there is something poetic about unfinished thoughts, but that may just be the romantic in me. Read the rest of the series by clicking on the {un}published tag at the bottom of the post.

loves,
M



Went to a fireside on Sunday. Spoke to women about combating common problems such as depression, anxiety, eating disorders, etc. One of the slides said:

Anxious people are usually:

• Conscientous
• Responsible
• Perfectionists
• Worriers
• "Have to do it all..."

Oh dear. If you know me at all, you know that I am all those things.
I went on an amazing trip a couple of weeks ago, one in which all of those qualities seem to vanish and I was just happy and carefree. Since coming back and facing reality, my stress level has increased exponentially and I have some big decisions to make.

• The other morning I got to sleep in (until 8. It's a Christmas miracle!). I woke up to the light filtering through the blinds, illuminating my room. I was warm and cozy and awake, read to begin a new day
• I love being awake when the rest of the world is asleep. Either early morning or late at night, there is something magical about the air when you feel as if you are the only one who it is speaking to. Up early to study for a test or walking home late from work, those times I feel my mind is cleared and my heart focused to listen
• People are healing. Lately I've had so many people from random points in my life make my day. I'm terrible at asking for help. making someone else's day
• having my day made by someone else
• blasting and singing those songs that let every emotion out
• fitting into your sisters high school dance dress
• seeing people you love and haven't seen in forever
• choosing to dye hair when you only have 48 hours to spend with one of your best friends
• having days where you are reminded why you are doing what you are doing and that you do indeed belong
• playing catch phrase with botulism terms

read 2594 pages (that's right. count them: two thousand five hundred ninety-four pages) of C.S. Lewis.

discovered that I love tomatoes. Hello Mr Tomato, where have you been all my life?

realized that I didn't have to put meat on a sandwich. Here's a novel idea: veggie sandwich. Brilliant. Best realization I've ever had.

heard my professors say things like:



just finished my last first day today. I spent the morning running from class to class, laughing at quirky professors, using new skills and trying to remember old ones (haven't used those math skills in uh... 5 years? oh dear). Spent the afternoon talking to my roommates, wasting time, wasting time, and wasting time. Spent the evening wasting time, running and talking to friends. Overall good first last day.



I found this in one of my many old journals, written hastily in the corner. I've been thinking about it today because I have several friends going through some pretty tough things:

I woke up today and you were performing open heart surgery. I could see my heart beating in my chest. You tried to work quickly, tightening muscles here and there. I cried out in pain, blood gushing everywhere.

C.S. Lewis, in grieving the loss of his wife, questioned whether God was the Great Vivisector.  When I heard that phrase, I was reminded of those words I had written long ago, crammed in the corner of my journal. I understand what you mean, Mr. Lewis. I understand.


M

{un}published part iii

life.
setting the timer to say "ah! burning cookies!"
taking home two heavy old (free) chem books so I can use the paper to wrap gifts
using "shut-up" as an exclamation

***

He was prisoner and bound to Rome by ship to answer to the law of Caesar. His journey had already been long, taking him to far lands, crying with a loud voice, praying someone would listen. It was a mission, a purpose in life he was thrust into unexpectedly.

The ship bounced from island to island.

 

***

It was sunny today. I knew that it had to be, that the light radiating from the hearts of millions on this Easter morn would easily diffuse the clouds.

I've been reading this after a link from my sista, and some of the posts have been particularly poignant to me. It is so important to stay connected to saints. We all need that sustaining power. One such post particularly touched me, not so much what the post said as what it referenced to. This happened last week and Elder Holland's talk on the Atonement of Christ touched me deep down to the very core.

Today we sang He is Risen! I was immediately transported back to two gardens, as I was during Elder Holland's talk, two gardens I love. Two Gardens that transformed my heart during a time that seems so long ago. I suddenly missed Jerusalem more than I had in a long time. I wished I could have been there on this easter morn, in the garden tomb, to celebrate the ultimate gift. I know that I do not need to be there to feel and celebrate, but I miss it.

On the top of the program is a classic picture of Mary kneeling before the risen Lord. her neck is extended up to him, so her eyes meet his face. What is interesting about the painting is that both Christ and Mary have their right hands extending out towards each other, but their left hands facing themselves, coming toward their

***

My first, and so far only, Utah adventure was to the Cathedral of the Madeleine in Salt Lake. We went up for a concert. BYU faculty played pieces of Chopin,

***

It seems so far away, so long ago. And yet... there are moments when it seems as if it was yesterday when the loss seemed to much to carry. That the bond was severed and then fused back together, stronger than ever.

I forget sometimes. I forget what it feels like to lose that much. I forget how it feels to be so profoundly hurt inside. As time goes on the wound heals and life as it is now, seems much more of a reality, of a normality than the past ever did.

Sometimes I forget the bond I felt to those around me that also lost. A bond so tangible I could





M.



part i
part ii

{un}published part ii

rules of life:
growing in life is an interesting thing. It happens slowly. Little by little we all grow up. In each moment, in each choice we are becoming someone. This growth occurs so mintutely often times you don't know it's happening until someone else sees it in your countenance.

but it doesn't always happen that way.

other times it seems like we're on steroids. Things seem to be exploding in our face. Realizations, events, changes, thoughts, moments, struggle become the norm for a short time and choices seem to be shoved in your face right and life. You're head is spinning. You want to raise your hands in defeat, wave your white flag and just be done. Sleeping and eating and thinking and breathing suddenly become optional and things like responding to email or blogging or doing something nice for someone else seem like the biggest tasks in the world.


and yet


there is something so beautiful about those times. it's who you really are. the choices that you make when everything seems to need to be decided at once reveals your deepest self. And the growth, it's measurable. You can breathe the excitement and feel movement in the world. You're on the brink. About to jump off a bridge into ice cold water on a hot summer day or dive into the most delicious cake or learn about who you are and what you are becoming.

***

It was a short hike, although it got the heart pumping and the quads burning. There was a slight breeze as we began the ascent, just enough to make it not too hot. It felt so familiar. I thought the first time I was up there, just before my senior year. It was just as I remembered it.

But how much I have changed.

As time moves ever onward I feel I seem to stay the same, living my life, but not really breathing. Seeing no measurable difference in my heart and my head. And then there are moments like this. When shades of wisdom are slide over my eyes and for a brief moment I can see how far I have come, and how far I have to go doesn't seem as unobtainable as usual.

As soon as we got to the top the wind was pounding. I tried to inhale, but could barely catch a breath as the air rushed over me, twisting around my hair and curling over my jacket. I flipped open my scriptures. I felt like it was my duty to read some sort of ensign/standard/banner/mountain scripture up top that sacred spot. I didn't realize there were so many to choose from. I suddenly felt a closeness to Isaiah. He saw my day, knew it intimately. And he had faith in us.

I also felt a closeness to these two men. They once stood atop this humble peak, also looking over the valley as it would be in our day. Established. Flourishing. A real home for a people that were then without one. A banner, an ensign, a standard to the world. A message of peace, hope, courage, faith, strength, and light.

Beautiful.

***

the well is deep and I cannot reach the bottom.

stars enumerable twinlking beyond my hope

the sands on the sea shore, so numerous I cannot comprehend.

The feeling dissipates, I reach out to grab it. gone. like a dream in the night, fleeting, small, and yet so rich and deep my arm is not long enough to show the depths of it

***
 

Education is important. In fact, a college degree was never an option in my family. It was expected. Expanded our mind is so important. Especially as women.

But there is a season for everything. Right now my season is school. A lot, a LOT of school. And even though sometimes I dream of dropping out and maybe joining this or going on long adventures with all the money I don't have, or just reading all the books that I want to and do my own, selective, non-structured learning, I know that this is my season. And each day as I trudge up the hill to 8 o'clock class in the morning, sit through lecture, worry about my 10 tests and homework assignments, don't ever sleep, never have time to read what I want, seem to be sinking more than swimming, and think of all the fun things people around me get to do. And then I remember that I'm paying a price. And that I am so lucky I get to go to school. That I don't have to worry about how I'm going to pay for it. That I have the opportunity to go on to graduate school. That I don't have to drop out of school because my family needs me to work. I am so lucky.

***

I'm ready

to have an adventure
to jump on the nearest train and travel to the end of the world
to get lost in a city where no one speaks english
to jump on the back of a vespa in the english countryside (preferably with a strapping english chap to hold on to)
to expand my eyes, give them so much to see they are sore from trying to open wider
to run in a field barefoot, the wind washing my troubles away
to laugh until I'm crying
to escape with a good book, my mind learning and growing and understanding things I never thought possible
to have one of those moments when life is so sweet I can feel it. when I would rather be no where but in that moment
to feel like all the hard work is worth it
to truly breathe
to just be

{un}published part i

I was looking for a particular post in my archives today and was surprised to see how many posts I've started (or even finished) but never published. Most of which I don't remember writing. I decided that despite the fact that they are mere fragments of thoughts, they deserve to be heard, so I am starting a series of posts (in no particular groupings) to free them from their cages, unchanged from how I found them.

enjoy.

***

I went running with my sister today. I although I begrudgingly agreed to come along on the phone, I was secretly grateful that she asked if I would go with her. I really needed a run. Despite loving to run, I have been absolutely terrible at it this past year. I've been more sporadic than a [insert funny comparison here]. But I need to be better.

As we pounded the pavement toward the end and I wanted to quit so badly, I thought about each step I was taking. Each step got me closer to that lamp post. The lamp post was closer to the corner, the corner closer to our final destination. If I could just make it to the lamp post, I could make it to the corner and if I could make it to the corner, I could make it home. I laughed as I thought of these mental games I play with myself as I run.

***

looked up to see "radius of the earth" in my google search box
I'm obsessed with cheddar sunchips. so so so yummy
I see things and think I am just so curious what that tastes like. So I buy it. Exhibit A: the cinnabon snack bar. Yes, it really tasted like a cinnabon.

***

The last few days a melancholy fog seems to have settled around my heart. I tried to pin point the reason for this and I came up with a number of good guesses, but then it hit me: change.

Change is necessary and good, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it is painful, engrossing, consuming, stretching, taxing and tiring. I can feel it in the air, just around the corner. I'm excited for change, but I am acutely aware of just how much I love what I'm leaving behind.

She is moving to a far off place and while I am giddy with excitement for the adventures she will encounter, I'm realizing each day how much I am going to miss her.

***

The past couple of weeks I've felt the need to simplify my life. To rid myself of unnecessary possessions. clean-up, de-junk, organ-ize. (sorry, I couldn't help myself). I finished with my apartment room, so the other day I headed home to start on my other room. I thought it would take a quick moment. I had gone through that stuff so many times, each time I moved in or out of the house. I waded through a sea of papers and old books for 4 hours and only managed to get through 3/4 of the room, filling a whole corner full of things to be taken away to someone who actually needs them. It was a liberating feeling, letting go of so many things I had been holding on to. But...

I've always known I was a pack rat at heart, I just happen to be an organized one. Usually when I go through my "junk" I look at an object for a moment. I consider its current uses, its sentimental value, and I allow my mind to wander. I begin to think of all the scenarios in which that thing would be useful in the future. I weigh the current use/sentimental value/future use against the space I would free up if I disposed of it, and then I make a decision. But this time was different. I seemed immune to all the uses of my old possessions, and instead felt as if they were just space wasted in my brain. I realized that some of the things I had been holding on to for all these years really held no value to me. I had just felt like I ought to keep them. Exhibit A: the state quarter collection. I had every state quarter except maybe 5 of the last ones sitting in a dinky case I got from the book fair. Was I an avid coin collector? no. Did I even feel attachment at all? nope. I only felt a tinge of sadness popping all those quarters out of the case because it represented a lot of time spent coming that close to having a complete collection.

I realized that this is part of my putting away childish things. Getting rid of the unnecessary

***