Monday, April 28, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Part of My Life
I've been wanting to write about this subject for a while, but haven't really known what I want to say. There is just so much than can be said.
I'll just relate what happened that made me realize I wanted to write.
I was getting for bed the other night, and actually noticed the last-last thing I do before going to bed, for the first time.
I changed my clothes. I brushed my teeth. I went to my room, and knelt, and prayed, and pulled aside the covers. I turned on the bedside lamp, and reached for the bottles.
I watched my writs flick exactly right to open them. I noticed the expert up-ending of the bottle to shake out, quickly and effectively, the pills, and I observed that I had done this so many hundreds of times that I didn't even think about it anymore--precisely bite the pill in two, along the scored line, because who wants to fuss with getting the pill chopper out tonight? All these things, with my mind running over the day, organizing and analyzing it without the interruption of bothering to paying attention to my actions, muscle memory guiding me.
This is a part of my reality.
Most of the pills I take are supplements like Calcium and iron, but one of them is not. One of them, as inconspicuous as the others, is an antidepressant, and I take it without hesitation these days.
There are some very strong opinions out there about these little tablets. I've been all over the scale concerning them, myself. I've been on and off them and all around them over the years. I've been diagnosed with a lot of versions of the diseases that branch off the word "depression." The most recent, and I think most accurate, starts with an M and contains the idea that it's a long-term condition, but at this point the labels matter so little that I truly can't remember what that M word is, and I don't really feel like looking it up is relevant. I just need to know what my response will be. My responses, I suppose, because there's not one answer. Even in one individual, there's not one answer.
It just is. Like: Hi, I have brown hair. I like chocolate and men and tickling my nieces. I enjoy being outdoors and I have depression and my favorite thing to do on the weekends is try new foods and hang out with friends. It's there, mixed in with all the other elements of what my life has been and how I understand myself and the challenges I've worked through and the ways I keep standing up.
I used to think that I had to hide it. I don't. I used to think that I was obligated to feel ashamed. I'm not. When I was telling someone that I have depression and they got embarrassed, I thought that I was supposed to be proportionately embarrassed, so as to make them feel comfortable.
No.
Life is life, you know? And we all have our different things. The way I see it, we are each working though something. One of mine happens to be this. And I just wanted to say this in a public way:
Responding to this illness is part of what I deal with, and working through it is something I am proud of. I have made so much progress. I know how to feel without swirling into choking blackness now. I know how to stop and give myself time. I know how to get up and go to work and I know how to persist even with heavy grief in my stomach and aching sadness spreading through me. I know how to feel true happiness from the hug of a child or the shape of the mountains while still in the middle of the hurting. I know how to see the beauty I simply couldn't conceive existed before. Sure, I don't see it all the time, but I know that it's real now. I know how to let myself be touched by the small moments of living. I know I know how to cope, and I'm even learning to thrive. Having depression doesn't scare me anymore.
And that is a triumph!
I'll just relate what happened that made me realize I wanted to write.
I was getting for bed the other night, and actually noticed the last-last thing I do before going to bed, for the first time.
I changed my clothes. I brushed my teeth. I went to my room, and knelt, and prayed, and pulled aside the covers. I turned on the bedside lamp, and reached for the bottles.
I watched my writs flick exactly right to open them. I noticed the expert up-ending of the bottle to shake out, quickly and effectively, the pills, and I observed that I had done this so many hundreds of times that I didn't even think about it anymore--precisely bite the pill in two, along the scored line, because who wants to fuss with getting the pill chopper out tonight? All these things, with my mind running over the day, organizing and analyzing it without the interruption of bothering to paying attention to my actions, muscle memory guiding me.
This is a part of my reality.
Most of the pills I take are supplements like Calcium and iron, but one of them is not. One of them, as inconspicuous as the others, is an antidepressant, and I take it without hesitation these days.
There are some very strong opinions out there about these little tablets. I've been all over the scale concerning them, myself. I've been on and off them and all around them over the years. I've been diagnosed with a lot of versions of the diseases that branch off the word "depression." The most recent, and I think most accurate, starts with an M and contains the idea that it's a long-term condition, but at this point the labels matter so little that I truly can't remember what that M word is, and I don't really feel like looking it up is relevant. I just need to know what my response will be. My responses, I suppose, because there's not one answer. Even in one individual, there's not one answer.
It just is. Like: Hi, I have brown hair. I like chocolate and men and tickling my nieces. I enjoy being outdoors and I have depression and my favorite thing to do on the weekends is try new foods and hang out with friends. It's there, mixed in with all the other elements of what my life has been and how I understand myself and the challenges I've worked through and the ways I keep standing up.
I used to think that I had to hide it. I don't. I used to think that I was obligated to feel ashamed. I'm not. When I was telling someone that I have depression and they got embarrassed, I thought that I was supposed to be proportionately embarrassed, so as to make them feel comfortable.
No.
Life is life, you know? And we all have our different things. The way I see it, we are each working though something. One of mine happens to be this. And I just wanted to say this in a public way:
Responding to this illness is part of what I deal with, and working through it is something I am proud of. I have made so much progress. I know how to feel without swirling into choking blackness now. I know how to stop and give myself time. I know how to get up and go to work and I know how to persist even with heavy grief in my stomach and aching sadness spreading through me. I know how to feel true happiness from the hug of a child or the shape of the mountains while still in the middle of the hurting. I know how to see the beauty I simply couldn't conceive existed before. Sure, I don't see it all the time, but I know that it's real now. I know how to let myself be touched by the small moments of living. I know I know how to cope, and I'm even learning to thrive. Having depression doesn't scare me anymore.
And that is a triumph!
Music
Just listened to music on youtube for a few hours. I have to say, I am grateful for music.
I feel like I am blossoming late in this area and finally finding the music that speaks to me, which is very odd when I think about it.
It's odd because my Dad was a musician. How has this taken me till now? I often think of him, guitar in hand, sitting on that horrible orange floral couch in the living room. I don't remember him playing anything I heard on the radio to and from school. It was all original work, his own compositions or songs from the bands he had been in, I suppose.
He was an avid concert-hopper in college, and still went to concerts when I was little, apparently. My sister even went to her first concert with him. And yet, I grew up listening mostly to my mother's music, followed by my brother's. I don't know how this happened.
My mother is a music-lover, too. Singing and plunking on the piano, wishing she'd had lessons instead of being self-taught. There is something painful to not being able to speak with notes.
I don't know how I was so unaware of what was going on with music when I was little. I feel like the only musical exposure I had was from the guitar-playing man on the couch, the pop and country stations my bus drivers listened to, the voice of my mother in church, and the music class Ms. Cheney taught at my elementary school--xylophones and vocal warm-up exercises, as I remember it. And a couple of Beatles songs, haha!
And here I am in my twenties, finding music that actually matters to me. Me, the girl who has actually cried, not from frustration, but grief, that these hands do not have a way to get the music out from my insides. That I have no instrument anymore. I did play flute once, but it was all so rote and I never got to the point where I could compose, which is want I wanted more than anything. Maybe if I had persisted it would have been different. I've wanted strings, though, not woodwind.
I remember sitting at our horribly out of tune piano and hearing, very clearly, a few bars that were from me, that felt right, and having no idea how to get them translated into actual music. Trying to pick it out one note at a time... Just the satisfaction of hearing the melodies in my mind in the real world, one time! Has anybody else felt this? If only I could sing the way an instrument does! It's still in there, buried deep.
And finally, there is art that matters to me and speaks on a level I cannot articulate. It is an awakening. There's plenty of the stuff that merely entertains or fills the silence, but I have actually found music that deeply moves me, and it's out there, and I found it! And it dulls the ache of the voicelessness. It is a balm. It fills me up.
Some of the songs from tonight:
I Still Ain't Over You (aucoustic), Augustana
Ember and Ash, Augustana
Shot in the Dark, Augustana
Steal Your Heart, Augustana
Half of My Heart, John Mayer
Friends, Lovers, or Nothing, John Mayer
Paper Doll, John Mayer
Perfectly Lonely, John Mayer
Dreaming with a Broken Heart, John Mayer
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, John Mayer
Dear John, Taylor Swift
(Post Script: I do see the theme there. I'm aware of it, and I'm moving through it.)
I feel like I am blossoming late in this area and finally finding the music that speaks to me, which is very odd when I think about it.
It's odd because my Dad was a musician. How has this taken me till now? I often think of him, guitar in hand, sitting on that horrible orange floral couch in the living room. I don't remember him playing anything I heard on the radio to and from school. It was all original work, his own compositions or songs from the bands he had been in, I suppose.
He was an avid concert-hopper in college, and still went to concerts when I was little, apparently. My sister even went to her first concert with him. And yet, I grew up listening mostly to my mother's music, followed by my brother's. I don't know how this happened.
My mother is a music-lover, too. Singing and plunking on the piano, wishing she'd had lessons instead of being self-taught. There is something painful to not being able to speak with notes.
I don't know how I was so unaware of what was going on with music when I was little. I feel like the only musical exposure I had was from the guitar-playing man on the couch, the pop and country stations my bus drivers listened to, the voice of my mother in church, and the music class Ms. Cheney taught at my elementary school--xylophones and vocal warm-up exercises, as I remember it. And a couple of Beatles songs, haha!
And here I am in my twenties, finding music that actually matters to me. Me, the girl who has actually cried, not from frustration, but grief, that these hands do not have a way to get the music out from my insides. That I have no instrument anymore. I did play flute once, but it was all so rote and I never got to the point where I could compose, which is want I wanted more than anything. Maybe if I had persisted it would have been different. I've wanted strings, though, not woodwind.
I remember sitting at our horribly out of tune piano and hearing, very clearly, a few bars that were from me, that felt right, and having no idea how to get them translated into actual music. Trying to pick it out one note at a time... Just the satisfaction of hearing the melodies in my mind in the real world, one time! Has anybody else felt this? If only I could sing the way an instrument does! It's still in there, buried deep.
And finally, there is art that matters to me and speaks on a level I cannot articulate. It is an awakening. There's plenty of the stuff that merely entertains or fills the silence, but I have actually found music that deeply moves me, and it's out there, and I found it! And it dulls the ache of the voicelessness. It is a balm. It fills me up.
Some of the songs from tonight:
I Still Ain't Over You (aucoustic), Augustana
Ember and Ash, Augustana
Shot in the Dark, Augustana
Steal Your Heart, Augustana
Half of My Heart, John Mayer
Friends, Lovers, or Nothing, John Mayer
Paper Doll, John Mayer
Perfectly Lonely, John Mayer
Dreaming with a Broken Heart, John Mayer
Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, John Mayer
Dear John, Taylor Swift
Begin Again, Taylor Swift
(Post Script: I do see the theme there. I'm aware of it, and I'm moving through it.)
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Campfire with friends old and new
I have to say, I am so grateful for the weather turning enough to make being outdoors pleasant once again! There is a certain appeal to the cold weather, too, but after so many months of bundling up to go outside, I am grateful for the days with sunshine and evenings that only require a hoodie.
Speaking of great evenings, tonight! :) I just wanted to say that I feel really content and happy, and it's from the wonderful time I had tonight with friends around a campfire. There may have been powdered-sugar fire-breathing. There may have been a few rounds of Werewolf. There may have been talk of writing, and recollections of memories of bygone days. There may have been frisbee in the dark (perhaps something I am gaining an aptitude for? :)), hot dogs, and marshmallows. There may have been laughter and some serious thoughts and a whole ton of the people I love. And it didn't rain, despite slight sprinkling on and off throughout this afternoon. It filled me up with joy.
It seems like there was one person from each of the major periods of my adolescence and adulthood, too. My sister and my cousin, who have known me forevs, since well, they're both older than me. :) Two great ladies from high school. People from my first years at college and when I moved home from college and right before I left on my mission. Some from after I got home. People from this past year, and someone from work, and some from the mission itself. New ward and old ward and a friend of a friend that I met for the first time tonight.
I loved watching us get to know each other. Single people, married people, people older than me and younger than me and just the same age as me. I love that. I love that we can all gain something from one another. I love that we don't have to be the same to have fun; to add joy.
So. I am thankful for tonight. It was superb. I am grateful for everyone who made it. Thanks for adding joy to my life! I am so glad I know you. Much love to you all,
Kira
Speaking of great evenings, tonight! :) I just wanted to say that I feel really content and happy, and it's from the wonderful time I had tonight with friends around a campfire. There may have been powdered-sugar fire-breathing. There may have been a few rounds of Werewolf. There may have been talk of writing, and recollections of memories of bygone days. There may have been frisbee in the dark (perhaps something I am gaining an aptitude for? :)), hot dogs, and marshmallows. There may have been laughter and some serious thoughts and a whole ton of the people I love. And it didn't rain, despite slight sprinkling on and off throughout this afternoon. It filled me up with joy.
It seems like there was one person from each of the major periods of my adolescence and adulthood, too. My sister and my cousin, who have known me forevs, since well, they're both older than me. :) Two great ladies from high school. People from my first years at college and when I moved home from college and right before I left on my mission. Some from after I got home. People from this past year, and someone from work, and some from the mission itself. New ward and old ward and a friend of a friend that I met for the first time tonight.
I loved watching us get to know each other. Single people, married people, people older than me and younger than me and just the same age as me. I love that. I love that we can all gain something from one another. I love that we don't have to be the same to have fun; to add joy.
So. I am thankful for tonight. It was superb. I am grateful for everyone who made it. Thanks for adding joy to my life! I am so glad I know you. Much love to you all,
Kira
Monday, April 7, 2014
What is, will not always be.
Sometimes I get to wondering, you know? Wondering why I am where I am in this life. I haven't hit a lot of the milestones others around me seem to have, and it hasn't been for lack of trying. How is it that most of the time I'm fairly content, despite still struggling to attain some of my most cherished goals? Do I possess an unprecedented amount of optimism, a gift for ignoring what I don't like, or the ability to be patient in persistence? Maybe a combination of all of these is the case...
One of my favorite truths is this: What is, will not always be. It gives me courage, hope, and faith. I have seen the evidence of this truth in my life, and I know I can count on it.
Change can be beautiful and reaffirming. Just since my teen years: I didn't stay eternally 13, thankallthatisholy! ;) My family didn't live in the same house all that time. I haven't continuously wanted the same occupation. (For that matter, I haven't even been going to the same school the whole time.) My baby brother grew up.
And beyond that, to examples that are less superficial: My family has become my number one source of joy. I have learned so much more of my own value. I know that God is real, now, and cares for me as an individual. I know that He cares for each of us as individuals. I trust the people around me more easily. I have calmed down and learned how to take stock of and honor what I need, rather than simply caving in to the desires of those around me. I know that I have many unique gifts to offer. I've learned that kindness is often being bold in honesty, rather than parroting meaningless words. I am confident that life will continue to teach me and help me to grow.
That's a lot of change, and good change, at that. So even though, yes, I have yet to graduate from college, and find my mate, and develop greater charity, and bear children, and own a home, and, and, and... One day, I will either have accomplished these goals, or have found and met ones that mean more to me.
What is, will not always be. The future is as bright as my faith.
That's a lot of potential brightness, people.
One of my favorite truths is this: What is, will not always be. It gives me courage, hope, and faith. I have seen the evidence of this truth in my life, and I know I can count on it.
Change can be beautiful and reaffirming. Just since my teen years: I didn't stay eternally 13, thankallthatisholy! ;) My family didn't live in the same house all that time. I haven't continuously wanted the same occupation. (For that matter, I haven't even been going to the same school the whole time.) My baby brother grew up.
And beyond that, to examples that are less superficial: My family has become my number one source of joy. I have learned so much more of my own value. I know that God is real, now, and cares for me as an individual. I know that He cares for each of us as individuals. I trust the people around me more easily. I have calmed down and learned how to take stock of and honor what I need, rather than simply caving in to the desires of those around me. I know that I have many unique gifts to offer. I've learned that kindness is often being bold in honesty, rather than parroting meaningless words. I am confident that life will continue to teach me and help me to grow.
That's a lot of change, and good change, at that. So even though, yes, I have yet to graduate from college, and find my mate, and develop greater charity, and bear children, and own a home, and, and, and... One day, I will either have accomplished these goals, or have found and met ones that mean more to me.
What is, will not always be. The future is as bright as my faith.
That's a lot of potential brightness, people.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Simplicity
Some of the simple things that make me happy, which I should find ways to include more often in my life:
wearing bold lipstick
acoustic music
taking walks, especially when the air is crisp
eating delicious ethnic foods
wearing dresses that make me feel oh-so-feminine
dancing, I don't care what kind
modeling (I've been told I have a "portrait face." Seriously, if you need anyone to sit for a drawing or painting, I'm up for it. I don't mind doing photography, either. )
sitting near running water, especially if it's natural; bonus for being in the mountains
writing (getting more in since I started this blog! :))
keeping up with old friends
attending the temple
kissing ;)
bantering with someone
laughing till my sides hurt
heart-to-hearts
sharing my testimony
holding my nieces and nephews
painting
traveling
camping
watching the sunrise
actually finishing my makeup
going to bed on time
getting up early
talking to and hanging out with my siblings/cousins
going to art museums
reading really fantastic literature (Any recommendations??)
playing with and petting puppies that have floppy ears
gardening
smelling flowers
noticing what the sunlight is doing
snuggling in warm blankets while drinking cider, cocoa, or herbal tea
listening to rain on the roof while I fall asleep
holding hands
giving really good hugs
stretching and breathing deeply
riding my bike!!
bookstores (Why do they smell SOOOO good??)
wearing my favorite perfume
looking at buildings as works of art, rather than simply functional
giving good advice
getting good advice
taking good advice (Ah, that's the trick! Haha. :))
complimenting and appreciating others
getting together with friends
accomplishing goals!
learning new skills
throwing pots on the wheel (It's been years... :( )
tickle fights (This is not an invitation, fyi. I get to choose when this happens! Ha.)
playing cards
running (It's almost warm again! Then I will be willing to do this once more. On a similar note, indoor running sucks.)
baking
smelling things that are baking, :)
feeling the air and sun on my skin
swimming in natural bodies of water
puddle jumping
giving gifts
mailing packages
writing and receiving handwritten letters
acing a test
learning instruments (Next: Guitar or piano?)
singing
twirling while singing, or, rather, belting out :)
speaking Spanish
reading the scriptures
meeting an awesome person I haven't met before
sharing stories from school (ie, Child X did ____ )
"serenading" friends (Shout-out to all mission companions who tolerated this for entire transfers, ha ha!)
sitting in the grass
picnics
great BLTs
eating fruit
wading
learning new skills
succeeding the first time I try a recipe
And now I'm going to use my budding Photoshop skills to make more money, so I can fund the money-needing ones of these. :)
wearing bold lipstick
acoustic music
taking walks, especially when the air is crisp
eating delicious ethnic foods
wearing dresses that make me feel oh-so-feminine
dancing, I don't care what kind
modeling (I've been told I have a "portrait face." Seriously, if you need anyone to sit for a drawing or painting, I'm up for it. I don't mind doing photography, either. )
sitting near running water, especially if it's natural; bonus for being in the mountains
writing (getting more in since I started this blog! :))
keeping up with old friends
attending the temple
kissing ;)
bantering with someone
laughing till my sides hurt
heart-to-hearts
sharing my testimony
holding my nieces and nephews
painting
traveling
camping
watching the sunrise
actually finishing my makeup
going to bed on time
getting up early
talking to and hanging out with my siblings/cousins
going to art museums
reading really fantastic literature (Any recommendations??)
playing with and petting puppies that have floppy ears
gardening
smelling flowers
noticing what the sunlight is doing
snuggling in warm blankets while drinking cider, cocoa, or herbal tea
listening to rain on the roof while I fall asleep
holding hands
giving really good hugs
stretching and breathing deeply
riding my bike!!
bookstores (Why do they smell SOOOO good??)
wearing my favorite perfume
looking at buildings as works of art, rather than simply functional
giving good advice
getting good advice
taking good advice (Ah, that's the trick! Haha. :))
complimenting and appreciating others
getting together with friends
accomplishing goals!
learning new skills
throwing pots on the wheel (It's been years... :( )
tickle fights (This is not an invitation, fyi. I get to choose when this happens! Ha.)
playing cards
running (It's almost warm again! Then I will be willing to do this once more. On a similar note, indoor running sucks.)
baking
smelling things that are baking, :)
feeling the air and sun on my skin
swimming in natural bodies of water
puddle jumping
giving gifts
mailing packages
writing and receiving handwritten letters
acing a test
learning instruments (Next: Guitar or piano?)
singing
twirling while singing, or, rather, belting out :)
speaking Spanish
reading the scriptures
meeting an awesome person I haven't met before
sharing stories from school (ie, Child X did ____ )
"serenading" friends (Shout-out to all mission companions who tolerated this for entire transfers, ha ha!)
sitting in the grass
picnics
great BLTs
eating fruit
wading
learning new skills
succeeding the first time I try a recipe
And now I'm going to use my budding Photoshop skills to make more money, so I can fund the money-needing ones of these. :)
Sometimes
Sometimes I wonder what my Dad thought and felt as he lay dying. Before he was on morphine and before the pain necessitated it, what did he think about, sick in that bed?
What did he think about before he lay on the bed, when he was on the drive home from the doctor's, where the news had been pronounced? When he had to tell us that there were three measly months left to his life? How did my Mom watch her husband die?
How did I watch my father die??
What questions should I have asked him, if I had been able to? What did he want me to know? What life lessons had he hoped to pass on?
I think he'd be pleased with who I've become. I've grown steadily over the years, overcome challenges and climbed so many Everests. Am I as wise as he became in his 43 years? Am I wiser in some ways? I'm sure there are different lessons I've come to that he didn't, or hadn't, by the time he was 26, which is how old I turn tomorrow. It's a different world, I'm a different person. What have I learned that is the same? What does he still hope for me to discover?
Sometimes I feel close to him, and sometimes I feel his strength strengthening me. I sense his compassion for my trials and his warm hand as it would rest on my shoulder, if it could.
Sometimes I look at the mountains out my window, capped in snow, draped in sunlight, and wonder that I had as long as I did with him. That I'm alive and he's not, and my eyes are drinking in the beauty while his are made of something more ethereal now. And I think about what it must be like to have a Dad to talk to about silly things and serious things, to disagree with and value, and just to know.
It's been fifteen years, and a third, since his death. Where has the time fled to? When did I get used to Dadlessness? How did peace enter to fill in the ache? And how is it that I still miss someone I knew so little?
How does my heart still love him, across all these years?
What did he think about before he lay on the bed, when he was on the drive home from the doctor's, where the news had been pronounced? When he had to tell us that there were three measly months left to his life? How did my Mom watch her husband die?
How did I watch my father die??
What questions should I have asked him, if I had been able to? What did he want me to know? What life lessons had he hoped to pass on?
I think he'd be pleased with who I've become. I've grown steadily over the years, overcome challenges and climbed so many Everests. Am I as wise as he became in his 43 years? Am I wiser in some ways? I'm sure there are different lessons I've come to that he didn't, or hadn't, by the time he was 26, which is how old I turn tomorrow. It's a different world, I'm a different person. What have I learned that is the same? What does he still hope for me to discover?
Sometimes I feel close to him, and sometimes I feel his strength strengthening me. I sense his compassion for my trials and his warm hand as it would rest on my shoulder, if it could.
Sometimes I look at the mountains out my window, capped in snow, draped in sunlight, and wonder that I had as long as I did with him. That I'm alive and he's not, and my eyes are drinking in the beauty while his are made of something more ethereal now. And I think about what it must be like to have a Dad to talk to about silly things and serious things, to disagree with and value, and just to know.
It's been fifteen years, and a third, since his death. Where has the time fled to? When did I get used to Dadlessness? How did peace enter to fill in the ache? And how is it that I still miss someone I knew so little?
How does my heart still love him, across all these years?
Thursday, April 3, 2014
The Things from Today
First, my facebook status:
It's teacher appreciation week and my birthday is on Sunday. When I started teaching today, one student asked me what she could do to show me appreciation/help me have a happy birthday, and I said, "Give me cards that tell me how awesome I am, haha!" Another student said, "Ding! Wish granted!" and held up a birthday card they had all made for me. AaaaWWW!
Also, Pandora to the rescue once again. This time it's Jack Johnson radio. Apparently I like Mumford and Sons, despite never having heard more than a few radio singles before this. And now I know for certain that I have a split opinion about John Mayer. (Isn't that the general consensus, though? Ha ha!) Also, "Satellite" by Dave Matthews Band! I can't believe I forgot about this fantastic song!! Last, acoustic anything is apparently right up my alley. (Not that I didn't know that, but it's always great to find more good music.) :)
I've been facebook chatting with my cousin Emily for a little while tonight, and man, I gotta say that I love that girl. Shout-out! :) She's seriously been a true friend; very generous and giving. Honestly, I think she's been a better friend to me than I've been to her. We've just been chatting about life, love, and the whole big thing, whatever that is, and I must say, it is so blessedly refreshing and comforting to talk with someone who can listen.
Does that make any sense? It's not that I'm saying anything particularly **heavy.** (I put that in bold to make it look weighty, like the words we sometimes say.) It's just that I know I could if I wanted to. I love that we can be open with each other. I value that in friendship more than a lot of other things. The people I can truly share my thoughts with, who will share their true thoughts with me, are so valuable to me. There is a safety and a peace I find in them that comes from nowhere else.
I started working as a photographer's assistant recently, for one of my older brother's friends from high school. She posted on facebook that she was looking for someone, and I'd been thinking about what I want to do with my jobless summer (teacher, remember.) I felt like I should message her, so I did, and BOOM! Job. I've been working for about a month, and got paid for the first time from that today. Whoohoo! And much needed. Now I can buy some groceries, ha ha.
It feels good to take care of myself. And it feels good to be taken care of, too. I definitely feel that I was given this job right as I needed it, before I was actually aware I needed it. Sort of like I notice with good teachers at my school, stepping in to help struggling students, before the student even realizes they're struggling, most of the time. So thanks, Father in Heaven. I see how You did that. ;)
And thanks for a better day, too.
It's teacher appreciation week and my birthday is on Sunday. When I started teaching today, one student asked me what she could do to show me appreciation/help me have a happy birthday, and I said, "Give me cards that tell me how awesome I am, haha!" Another student said, "Ding! Wish granted!" and held up a birthday card they had all made for me. AaaaWWW!
Also, Pandora to the rescue once again. This time it's Jack Johnson radio. Apparently I like Mumford and Sons, despite never having heard more than a few radio singles before this. And now I know for certain that I have a split opinion about John Mayer. (Isn't that the general consensus, though? Ha ha!) Also, "Satellite" by Dave Matthews Band! I can't believe I forgot about this fantastic song!! Last, acoustic anything is apparently right up my alley. (Not that I didn't know that, but it's always great to find more good music.) :)
I've been facebook chatting with my cousin Emily for a little while tonight, and man, I gotta say that I love that girl. Shout-out! :) She's seriously been a true friend; very generous and giving. Honestly, I think she's been a better friend to me than I've been to her. We've just been chatting about life, love, and the whole big thing, whatever that is, and I must say, it is so blessedly refreshing and comforting to talk with someone who can listen.
Does that make any sense? It's not that I'm saying anything particularly **heavy.** (I put that in bold to make it look weighty, like the words we sometimes say.) It's just that I know I could if I wanted to. I love that we can be open with each other. I value that in friendship more than a lot of other things. The people I can truly share my thoughts with, who will share their true thoughts with me, are so valuable to me. There is a safety and a peace I find in them that comes from nowhere else.
I started working as a photographer's assistant recently, for one of my older brother's friends from high school. She posted on facebook that she was looking for someone, and I'd been thinking about what I want to do with my jobless summer (teacher, remember.) I felt like I should message her, so I did, and BOOM! Job. I've been working for about a month, and got paid for the first time from that today. Whoohoo! And much needed. Now I can buy some groceries, ha ha.
It feels good to take care of myself. And it feels good to be taken care of, too. I definitely feel that I was given this job right as I needed it, before I was actually aware I needed it. Sort of like I notice with good teachers at my school, stepping in to help struggling students, before the student even realizes they're struggling, most of the time. So thanks, Father in Heaven. I see how You did that. ;)
And thanks for a better day, too.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Maybe this will end up being redundant, but...
I just want to keep writing, so I'm going to.
There's a lot I've been thinking of lately. Here's one theme: bodies. I mean, come on, wow, they are amazing!!
I work at an elementary school, and every day I see kids using their bodies at recess--leaping, lunging, falling, running, tumbling, twirling, swinging! So much energy! So much fun! All shapes and sizes, moving together in the joy of experiencing motion in the great outdoors. (Or the small, fenced-in outdoors. But I digress...) I see this and notice an elegance about it, a noble simplicity in the operation of the sinews, just for the sake of feeling muscles slide under the skin. It fascinates me.
I think of all the messages we receive, bombarding us day in and day out, regarding our bodies. I think of what an arbitrary audience, whom the majority of us are very aware of and care desperately about, has decided is ideal, and the hours and days and years we spend feeling bad about ourselves because we don't fit that limited ideal. And it makes me sad. It makes me sad that we buy into it, and bring ourselves so much unhappiness doing so. And one reason I love watching these kids every day is because they haven't gotten entirely entrenched in those self-comparisons yet. If they want to run, they do, even though they're not "athletes" with "runner's bodies." They climb on monkey bars. They try cart-wheels and give piggy-back rides and explore movement, freely utilizing the bodies that make it possible. They just do it, and enjoy their bodies without realizing that they are being free in a way many thousands of adults don't know how to easily access anymore. I admire their care-free courage and envy them their ability to be in the moment so throughly. I hope they enjoy every moment of it.
There's a lot I've been thinking of lately. Here's one theme: bodies. I mean, come on, wow, they are amazing!!
I work at an elementary school, and every day I see kids using their bodies at recess--leaping, lunging, falling, running, tumbling, twirling, swinging! So much energy! So much fun! All shapes and sizes, moving together in the joy of experiencing motion in the great outdoors. (Or the small, fenced-in outdoors. But I digress...) I see this and notice an elegance about it, a noble simplicity in the operation of the sinews, just for the sake of feeling muscles slide under the skin. It fascinates me.
I think of all the messages we receive, bombarding us day in and day out, regarding our bodies. I think of what an arbitrary audience, whom the majority of us are very aware of and care desperately about, has decided is ideal, and the hours and days and years we spend feeling bad about ourselves because we don't fit that limited ideal. And it makes me sad. It makes me sad that we buy into it, and bring ourselves so much unhappiness doing so. And one reason I love watching these kids every day is because they haven't gotten entirely entrenched in those self-comparisons yet. If they want to run, they do, even though they're not "athletes" with "runner's bodies." They climb on monkey bars. They try cart-wheels and give piggy-back rides and explore movement, freely utilizing the bodies that make it possible. They just do it, and enjoy their bodies without realizing that they are being free in a way many thousands of adults don't know how to easily access anymore. I admire their care-free courage and envy them their ability to be in the moment so throughly. I hope they enjoy every moment of it.
A Perfect Evening
Instead of going to institute tonight, I'm going to write a blog post. So sue me.
I got sick this weekend--actually called in sick to work on Friday, which is kind of a big deal. I teach in a school, so if I'm willing to find me a sub and write out lesson plans (which is always a hassle!) I'm sick-fo-realz. I felt a little better on Saturday, and did all my Saturday things--second job, errands, time with friends, etc. Pushed a little too hard, and woke up Sunday with an ear infection. Blimey! Third one of my life, and geez, I had no remembrance that they could hurt so badly. I actually went to urgent care, which is, again, a big deal for me.
Been feelin' down--a breakup, moving to a new city; just a bit disconnected on most fronts, actually. But I went to my hometown on Saturday, and I just want to share a snippet of what happened, and the profound gratitude I felt. Even if doing what I did made me sicker the next day, being in the cold air, it was worth it. I needed those moments. They gave courage to my heart, and lifted me out of the fog I'd been feeling internally.
It was actually pretty simple. I went to my friend Devin's. There were a few other friends that came over, and we all ended up going to the park across from his house and tossing a frisbee just as twilight was coming on. It was a glow-in-the-dark lighted one, and as the sun set, I felt the wind on my arms and face and watched the frisbee lazily pass from one of us to the next.
I've not played a lot of frisbee in my life. I usually feel a little embarrassed when I try, but no one cared, and they were patient when I messed up in super stupid ways, and I could really just let go and enjoy something for the first time in a while. I felt like I was part of something again. I felt accepted and included, which I've struggled to feel lately as I've tried to fit in with new roommates, new ward members, and even new co-workers. There I was, with people I've been friends with for a year, or in Devin's case, four, and it seemed like I fit together inside myself once more.
The sky was big overhead, and the air was refreshing, with the slightest edge. I watched that frisbee going round, from one of us to the next, feeling peace in my heart for the first time in weeks. It felt like I was finally still enough to rest and let some of the waves of stress wash out of me, there in that new spring grass. I felt quiet and connected all at once. When we were leaving, I took a second and just laid in the middle of that field, looking up at the ordinary, overcast night sky, thinking to myself how wonderful it felt just to be present. Just to be present for these very basic things--to throw a frisbee, with friends who already know me, not feeling nervous or judged, but accepted. To experience the breeze, watching that big sky with stars somewhere behind the clouds, and smelling the earth and the grass and my hair.
It was lovely. Truly a beautiful, lovely feeling to be there, with people I care about, just living and moving forward. It was the pause I've been needing. There are so many choices before me, and I've been pushing so hard... That pause. That pause was everything, and I am grateful for it.
I got sick this weekend--actually called in sick to work on Friday, which is kind of a big deal. I teach in a school, so if I'm willing to find me a sub and write out lesson plans (which is always a hassle!) I'm sick-fo-realz. I felt a little better on Saturday, and did all my Saturday things--second job, errands, time with friends, etc. Pushed a little too hard, and woke up Sunday with an ear infection. Blimey! Third one of my life, and geez, I had no remembrance that they could hurt so badly. I actually went to urgent care, which is, again, a big deal for me.
Been feelin' down--a breakup, moving to a new city; just a bit disconnected on most fronts, actually. But I went to my hometown on Saturday, and I just want to share a snippet of what happened, and the profound gratitude I felt. Even if doing what I did made me sicker the next day, being in the cold air, it was worth it. I needed those moments. They gave courage to my heart, and lifted me out of the fog I'd been feeling internally.
It was actually pretty simple. I went to my friend Devin's. There were a few other friends that came over, and we all ended up going to the park across from his house and tossing a frisbee just as twilight was coming on. It was a glow-in-the-dark lighted one, and as the sun set, I felt the wind on my arms and face and watched the frisbee lazily pass from one of us to the next.
I've not played a lot of frisbee in my life. I usually feel a little embarrassed when I try, but no one cared, and they were patient when I messed up in super stupid ways, and I could really just let go and enjoy something for the first time in a while. I felt like I was part of something again. I felt accepted and included, which I've struggled to feel lately as I've tried to fit in with new roommates, new ward members, and even new co-workers. There I was, with people I've been friends with for a year, or in Devin's case, four, and it seemed like I fit together inside myself once more.
The sky was big overhead, and the air was refreshing, with the slightest edge. I watched that frisbee going round, from one of us to the next, feeling peace in my heart for the first time in weeks. It felt like I was finally still enough to rest and let some of the waves of stress wash out of me, there in that new spring grass. I felt quiet and connected all at once. When we were leaving, I took a second and just laid in the middle of that field, looking up at the ordinary, overcast night sky, thinking to myself how wonderful it felt just to be present. Just to be present for these very basic things--to throw a frisbee, with friends who already know me, not feeling nervous or judged, but accepted. To experience the breeze, watching that big sky with stars somewhere behind the clouds, and smelling the earth and the grass and my hair.
It was lovely. Truly a beautiful, lovely feeling to be there, with people I care about, just living and moving forward. It was the pause I've been needing. There are so many choices before me, and I've been pushing so hard... That pause. That pause was everything, and I am grateful for it.
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