Fragile

Within the past week I have seen so many ducklings--babies just starting out. Friends are expecting babies. New life is springing up everywhere, even in the blossoms of the trees and the bulbs long forgotten during the winter shooting forth beautiful blooms of lavender and fuchsia. A new semester began and a new ward was formed, new friendships have been struck.
Everything is new! So much life has been breathed into the world! And yet... I have been witness to this new found life's fragility. Within the past week, I have seen two (though I am willing to believe there are more) dead ducklings. Just this evening, I may have even helped (or perhaps even doomed) a young sparrow to its final resting place. 
While I was out blues dancing this weekend, a motorist crashed across University Avenue. Just in the past couple days I may have said or done something to cause a still young and blooming friendship to freeze and die away. 
How fleeting! Who can say when something we thought would continue to live and breathe might be snuffed out, cut off from the life force that is pulsating from the breath of spring? 

I wish I wouldn't take so much for granted. It hurts me in an intensely personal way when I see death.

When I was young, perhaps in my 8th grade year, my parents brought home a young kitten they had found outside of our church building prior to their going on their weekly date. They took the time to come back home, kitten in tow, and helped me find a box and warm blanket for it. They asked if I would mind watching over the sickly creature and advised me that it probably wouldn't make it through the night.
It was obviously invested with bugs, it must have been beaten up by some other creature for one of its eyes wasn't completely functional but my parents thought perhaps we could ease its way from the world. 
I tended to the kitten for a good majority of the evening, holding its sick body close in a warm hand towel (for it was too tiny for an actual blanket) and I slept with its box beside my bed. Mom and Dad had brought some kitten food home for it and when it mewled in the morning, I carefully picked it up and carried it to the kitchen. It had made it through the night, more than I had expected. I set up the smallest dish we had so it could eat... and I watched it try--it wanted to try! But the anguish and hurt of its small body had been too much and I watched as it gasped out its last breath. 
My heart broke in a way that day that hasn't really happened since. Yes. I have experienced the heart break of new loves dying out, friends leaving, even family members passing on. But to watch a creature die right before your eyes after all you could do... it is not an experience I wish on anyone. 

The point is-- life, in all its forms, is fragile and fleeting. You never know how long you will have to experience it. So... experience it fully, full-steam ahead. Live. Live your life in such a way that you don't look back and say, "what if I had done/said that?" Do. Say. You may hurt others. You may hurt yourself. Be wise in your words and actions. I am not saying I am at all wise--for there are moments I certainly wish I had thought out at least a little more but then again I feel it is all really trial and error. 

"It is both a blessing
And a curse
To feel everything
So very deeply."

d.j.

But I am glad that I feel deeply. It reminds me that I am alive. That I still have time to make moments--for "we remember not days but moments". So I challenge you to let yourself feel and remember to stop going through life ignoring the moments or the fragile things of life. 

Feel.
Live. 


P.S. The bird from earlier flew off when I went to go visit him just now. I think he may just make it. 

The Struggle

Over the last few weeks I have been struggling within myself to accomplish a task. 

A couple months ago, I was talking with my bishop about some things that had been making life hard for me--loneliness, feelings of inadequacy, terrible sleep... the list went on and on. After a short time, he asked if I had ever considered going to speak with a psychiatrist or counselor. I balked not believing my problems were serious enough to go to one. I looked at my problems as something caused by immaturity and a ridiculous perspective that were making mountains out of mole hills. 
He said something that stuck with me however. Essentially he said that people go to a doctor when they are physically sick or having problems. Psychiatrists are doctors for people with emotional or mental challenges. If you're sick, won't you go to a doctor?
So I filed the advice away in the back of my mind for a while feeling relieved after talking to him and unloading my burdens for a while. Life seemed fine after that for a while--that was until I went home to Oregon to spend a short weekend with my family. The loneliness crept back in like a disease--nonsensical in its timing but all too real and suffocating. 
I had just finished watching Frozen with my younger sister and was in the guest room laying in bed when suddenly I felt darker than I had in a long time. I couldn't understand it being surrounded by loved ones as I was I could not get rid of the feeling and only after exhausting myself through tears was I able to fall asleep at 5 or so in the morning. 
When I woke up, I finally told my mom about my counsel from my bishop. 
It had never occurred to me that I wasn't alone in these feelings of loneliness and the anxiety that came with them. Apparently, it runs in the family. So, with the support of my parents I asked my bishop for the contact information for the psychiatrist he had recommended to me some months earlier and gave it to my father who looked into the insurance--at least he tried. Since I am an "adult" it was up to me to talk to the insurance people to see if they would cover my doctor's visits. I get anxiety from making phone calls, understand. It took me four days after getting the information from my father to try calling the insurance. I successfully contacted one but they didn't cover the specific psychiatrist but they would cover 3 visits. I called the other contact to see if they covered the doctor I was looking at but the last two digits of the number had been reversed on accident and I called someone who was definitely not the insurance. 
Telling my father this, he sent me the real number but, again, it took me a few days to finally just plunge in and call. The answer was the same but they would cover 4 visits.
However, upon closer inspection, both companies said they could only cover these visits if I was living part time at home... which I haven't done for about 3 years now. My parents and I agreed that we probably shouldn't lie about my living situation. So what did this mean?
I had to call the doctor's office and ask for pricing...
This occurred about two weeks before classes for the spring semester started... procrastination for the sake of my anxiety got the better of me and then suddenly, upon starting up two dance classes Mon-Thurs (only one of them happening on Friday) my spirit felt much happier. Dance is clearly something that helps me combat my problems, giving me a release and in return releasing what I assume are endorphins that make me feel happy. So of course, I started reasoning to myself that I needn't go in at all because I was no longer feeling those feelings and limitations that had instigated the talk of going into a psychiatrist in the first place. 
However, I spoke with Mom last night and she reminded me that I couldn't dance through life and there will be times again when those feelings get the better of me unless I find out what is wrong with me and fix it--and what better time to do it than when I am feeling on top of everything else?
So, she had me promise I would call today--if I didn't get anything else done, just call. Get the estimates. Report back. And you know what? I did it. I did it. 

Update: I am now waiting for them to call me back to help set up my appointment. 


Most people usually keep these things to themselves but I felt a need to share my experience. Maybe there is someone else out there who is experiencing the same thing that needs to know that they are most definitely not alone. Maybe there are people out there who, in order to not misunderstand me, need to hear about the problems I struggle with every week. 

I posted a status on facebook just yesterday addressing the fact that although I have struggles I have learned that it does not do to dwell negatively on the things around me, those things that affect me. If I allow the devil to suck away all my happiness that it would only leave me with despair and loneliness. I hope for a brighter day. I yearn for a life that I love to live. I fight to break through the darkness, to shine to those who might be close beside my bend in the road whose candles may have gone out and need to share a flame with me, no matter how briefly or otherwise the contact may be. 
Keep smiling, keep laughing, keep loving, keep hugging, keep wishing, keep hoping--keep the faith, keep up your courage, look up into the world. You will make it through. The Lord is there for you as He is for me. 
Be brave. Be true. 

Freedom... to be Attacked?

I think the most ironic thing about our country is our "belief" in the "freedom of speech". 

Lately there have been dozens upon dozens of people receiving negative feedback and biting backlash for having an opinion that opposes the rapidly growing majority view of such topics as gay marriage and feminism. 

Why are they treated like filth, like the devil incarnate when those who hold the opposite view (or, I move to say, the same opinion of the "oppressed" people) are treated as enlightened, wise beyond a shadow of doubt and held on a higher pedestal than our heroes of war?

What are we doing, America? 

Freedom of speech seems to be becoming a joke. It has been mutated into the following summation: "You are entitled to your opinion, shout it from the rooftops, even! Unless it opposes my view, then to hell with you and keep your mouth shut." 

How crippling. 

Regardless of the popularity of ideas and the "fashions" of today, I stand in the same place I always have stood. 

I believe marriage is meant to be between a man and a woman and the sacredness of that union is for the purpose of bringing the children of heaven into this world. So that they might received bodies like unto our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. That they might be tested and tried and have part in this mortal experience by spiritual beings. 

I do not abide by the idea of abortion. In the Bible it reads, "Thou shalt not kill" and I would further say "or anything like unto it". There are instances wherein abortion may be approved--in the case of rape victims who might never recover psychologically and other such extreme occurrences. But if you use abortion because you didn't "plan" to get pregnant or perhaps even because the baby is going to be a girl instead of a boy--there is blood on your hands that will be harder to wash away than you could ever imagine. 

Women and men are equal partners with different responsibilities. I believe that women need not be ordained to the Priesthood--it is not our responsibility (for, yes, there is a grave responsibility that comes with it--one that I do not even dare to pretend that I can fathom). It is the place of men to be the Priesthood holders and ordinance workers here on Earth while women have that most precious gift to bear children--we are vessels of life! What more beautiful calling could we bear to have given by a loving Heavenly Father? He entrusts His beloved children into our care. Would we betray that trust?

I move that I would not. 

I do not write this because I believe I am perfect or better than anyone else. But if we all waited until we were perfect to speak up and stand for those things that we unequivocally hold true in our hearts--who would there be to stand for truth?

Why do we demand that one another to be open-minded when the first reaction we have to any opinion that opposes our own is to try and squash it like an insignificant fluttering of breath? Why are the only ones allowed to have an opinion the ones who are "paid to write" about (insert controversial topic or even a course of study)?

I don't need to study what the highfalutin scholars have said about topics of morality to know where I stand on the issues. 

How much harder do our hearts need to be, America, before we bring about our own downfall?

ATTENTION BOYS...

...or men, or whatever you are calling yourselves today.

I don't know what it is... perhaps it is because it is spring and you realize that there are a lot of twitterpated females and males roaming about. Regardless, it seems that there have been quite a few guys that I have run into that seem to find it necessary to remind me that they have placed me in the friend-zone and aren't planning on changing my status anytime in the near, foreseeable future. 

It's not necessary. 

I admit I pride myself on being quite straightforward especially in regards to my feelings towards men. If I like you or am interested in being more than just friends... I will let you know! 

When you bring up the fact that we are simply friends with the idea that you "don't want to hurt" me well, I have some news for you--it's incredibly frustrating and (surprise of all surprises) does the exact thing you were trying to avoid. Neither I or the next female need you constantly reminding us point-blank that for whatever reason you have decided that we would make better friends than something more serious. 

Why is this?

Because you aren't the only one that we have met that feels that way--and also feels that he needs to constantly remind us. 

Just be yourself. 

I, for one, generally assume that a guy thinks of me as a great friend only unless he does things like holding my hand or cuddling or asking me out on multiple dates over the phone where he goes the extra mile to make me feel special---this also includes seeing me multiple times a week even though it is completely out of your way.

So in summation: yes, I know we are just friends. No, I do not need you to constantly remind me. And no, I don't want you to stop treating me the same way you've always treated me---unless, of course, your feelings have changed and you realize that you don't actually want me in your friend-zone.

Any questions?

From Home

I had the opportunity to go home this past weekend and though I may have gotten a cold out of it, it was truly a relief to be able to get away from all the responsibility and stress of the adult life and everything that comes with growing up. I was able to go almost anywhere with my family without my phone or purse strapped to my side and in essence walked about just enjoying the scenery. It also reinforced the fact that I really do not like having a mere three days at home--I need at least a week or it is almost a physical pain when I have to leave my family and home in Oregon for Utah once more. (Then there is also the other end of that where I cannot spend much more than a week for the risk of being stir crazy by the end of the visit but I would rather be slightly loathe to part with the coast than be happy to leave.)

There wasn't a drop of rain to be seen while I was visiting and wouldn't you know it but it poured the same night I happened to be back in Utah (or rather, I was in Nevada when it started... I think). 

My great grandmother was feeling rather poorly. It is always a sobering thought when I wonder the last time I see her will be... if it was possibly that last quick visit or if there will be more in the future. I cannot be sure but it breaks my heart to see her falling apart. It haunts her to know that she can no longer sew the quilts and baby blankets that she has been sitting to for years even though there are more and more great grandbabies coming down the line---some that she may never even see in this lifetime. Anyone that looks at her can tell she's tired but we can never be certain how much more she has to endure or learn before she can return to her husband, Dean's, side. 

I guess it's time for bed.... I was bouncing off the walls not too long ago but I think I am finally crashing... thank goodness. 

They May Say I'm a Dreamer...

I don't always have epiphanies--but when I do the seem to come when I'm doing simple everyday tasks. Such as making my bed before crawling into it for bedtime. 

Over the last couple of weeks, there have been a lot of lessons, it seems, at church and Institute (seminary for young adults in the church that only occurs once a week) and even through BYU Devotionals that have addressed the subject of finding your eternal companion--what attributes you look for in them--and also being the right person for them (aka don't expect attitudes and habits from them that you don't expect of yourself). 

As I was making my bed, I was reflecting on the dating experiences I have been going through in the last year or so and I realized something. I need someone who will allow me to continue dreaming. Who will allow me to retain my childlike view on certain things and love of the simple pleasures of life (such as watching Disney movies over and over and rereading love stories). However... I also need someone who will allow me to do this without treating me like a child. In fact, he is more than welcome to join me in my love of Disney, etc.

I admit to being rather starry-eyed from time to time and will always love fairy tales (and fully intend to read such stories to my children, encouraging them to dream, create, imagine, and find joy in smaller things). 

So, men. If you intend to only humor me, or pander to my wishes as though I were a younger sibling, keep moving please. I would rather not waste your time nor do I wish for someone to come along and try to change me. I will not change to fit a more "mature" view. Not only am I a dreamer, I am a writer of dreams. If you want to be a part of that dream, well, I invite you to try. Perhaps you will succeed where others have failed before you... (dear me, I sound like a dragon spouting a challenge...)

Love is Not Nagging

(Quick side note: my parents got me a calendar with the Peanuts comic as its theme, and apparently the theme is all about LOVE... which is not a bad thing, especially with such reminders as what I used for the title of this blog and others that I may or may not mention in the blog posts that follow this one.)

Well, my birthday has occurred for the year of 2014 as of January 30th. Only a few people have asked how old I am since then and so it still feels a little strange to answer with the number 23 instead of the number 22 I just got used to replying with to the inquisitive mind.

So I am a year older and I am already liking this age that I have settled into better than the last one. It most likely has a lot to do with having a steady, well-paying job that doesn't require me to wake up to clean bathrooms at 4 AM. I cannot express how wonderful it feels to see the money in my bank account increase rather than peter out before the next paycheck comes to fan the flames briefly before it dies out again. It makes a person a whole lot more optimistic in regards to the larger expenses of life (aka continued education or perhaps a first car). 

Winter is almost behind us and I couldn't be more grateful for the change in the weather--or at least the temperature. It's supposed to be high 50's to mid 60's pretty much all week and it makes me wish that I didn't have work in the afternoon but who knows? Perhaps it will be able to entice me out of bed earlier instead of fighting the cold by snuggling in more deeply under my copious amount of blankets. 

I am pretty sure we were all aware of the daylight savings and the whole "springing forward" an hour and though it is throwing my mornings off a little, it is rather nice to know that the sun will start setting later and later so that when I get off of work (at least Monday through Thursday) I will have a bit of light to socialize the evening away in.

Crazy moment in my life right now, however, is the realization that my youngest sister turned 16 years old today! My little brother will be turning 18 in a few short months and my younger sister is in Canada sharing the Gospel. Time just seems to be passing more and more quickly and at the end of the day we can only be grateful that we had one more day to do our best, to be our best.

To be honest, it makes me wish I hadn't taken the moments at home for granted, you know? Back when all of the kids were at home and we were doing sports and choirs and plays. 

Alas, it does no good to dwell in the past and we must make the most of our moments together when they have a chance of happening. 

So, if you haven't realized it yet, this is sort of a rambling post. I guess it is because there are so many things I want to talk about but really don't know if I should at this point...? You know what they say. Timing is everything. I guess that realization means I will just have to wait it out and share my plans and activities of the next few months some other time.

It's just odd to be so full of energy but still be so calm and mildly complacent, if you understand me. Oh well. All in due time.

Until then, you should just be happy to hear that I am busy and content--and that's saying something.