organizing unorganization

type. backspace. retype.

there are just days that feel like they should be good writing days.

so many things, so many emotions.

but they're not. for those very reasons.

no way to even begin sorting my brain laundry.

ah well. we can't be organized all the time.

think, but do not think too hard.

try, but know your bounds.

love, but do not expect.

live, but for others more.

become, but do not forget the beginning [nor the end].

small and simple things

"I think we delight to praise that what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is it's apppointed consummation." -C.S. Lewis

it's fantastic really- the miracles that happen in our lives every day.

some of these small things may not even be considered miracles in the eyes of critics.

like when an elderly man walking, smiles, waves, and gives you an enthusiastic "hi".

or when your shampoo that's been practically empty for two weeks is still able to somehow produce enough substance to wash your hair every day.

when your pet fish brings you priceless joy.

when you decorate your drab apartment to feel a little more like home.

and then there are the times when larger miracles happen.

and leave you with no doubt that God lives.

like when you're at the lowest of lows, and you just want to stay in bed all day.

but suddenly you find yourself up and walking, running, living.

and you don't know where the motivation or energy came from.

there's no doubt that you were just carried by divine arms.

silly billy is a little melancholy. but he's the joy of our apartment. what a cute old man.

we were pretty proud of our fake flower arrangement.

too much lord of the rings? never.

these are the words i hope to hear at the sweet end. and the new beginning.

[you might want to turn up the volume at the beginning. it's my favorite part, but it starts out oh so quiet.]

lay down your sweet and weary head. night is falling-you've come to journey's end. sleep now and dream of the ones who came before they are calling from across the distant shore.

why do you weep? what are these tears upon your face? soon you will see– all of your fears will pass away. safe in my arms you're only sleeping.

what can you see on the horizon? why do the white gulls call? across the sea a pale moon rises. the ships have come to carry you home. and all will turn to silver glass. a light on the water– all souls pass.

hope fades into the world of night. through shadows falling out of memory and time. don't say <we have come now to the end> white shores are calling– you and i will meet again.

and you'll be here in my arms. just sleeping.

let them eat cookies

bitter feelings toward someone? hmmm. bake them cookies.

silly- yet effective. doorbell ditching them is even better.

simple and profound, the sweetness is sprinkled like snow-all around.

"If our service is to be most effacacious,

it must be accomplished for the love of God and the love of his children.

The Savior applied that principle on the Sermon on the Mount,

in which he commanded us to love our enemies-

bless them that curse us-

do good to them that hate us-

and pray for them that despitefully use us-

and persecute us." [Matt. 5:44]

". . .for if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye?

Do not even the publicans the same?

. . . And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others?" [Matt. 5:46-47]

"This principle- that our service should be for the love of God and the love of fellowmen

rather than for personal advantage or any other lesser motive-

is admittedly a high standard."

-Dallin H. Oaks Why Do We Serve? Oct. 1984

if you ever find yourself in logan please take the time to experience the wonderful caine school of the arts. i particulary reccomend attending at least one performance by the fry street quartet.
they are phenomenal. i never was one to voluntarily go to classical concerts like this, but now i need them in order to tune out the world in my head every once in a while.

i often go walking

different people deal with stress in different ways. i like to consider myself a pretty stress-free person.

however there are a few things that get to me.

like starting a new job for instance.

i've sat down and tried to analyze why this freaks me out. mostly it stems from the unknown.

the unknown. perhaps the most common fear.

will it be as good as my previous job that i loved? will the people be nice? what if i do something wrong and get fired? [ok, worst case scenario right there]

tomorrow i start a new job. not glamorous by any means. but it has good hours and good pay.

in an attempt to deal with the stress i walked away from what i would normally do.

literally. i walked! i love walking.

to adam's park with an abundance of...you guessed it. trees.

please excuse the tree pictures.

maybe one of you out there will appreciate them like i do. ;)

i dream of walking down tree-bordered paths like this. and do.

i love branches.

the colors on this giant willow root [with the leaves] are fantastic.

What's up with my tree obsession? It just popped up one day a little over a year ago.

Every tree that I see seems to be telling me a story. Whether it whispers it, yells it, or sings it-the song always manages to find a way into my ear.

Every tree is beautiful to me. It can just be a little stick poking out of the cement in the middle of a dirty metropolitan area. But it doesn't matter, I still love it- and some kind of unexplainable emotion wells up inside of me at the sight.

You know in new classes, when they occasionally have little "get to know you" activities/assignments? Well I can never think of anything unique or clever to do/bring (as I'm sure is the case for most people).

"Hey, lemme run around the room for ya. Or maybe I'll go outside and come back all sweaty.

Last spring in my English class I had run across this dilemma yet again. But this time a brilliant epiphany popped into my head faster than usual. I would make a slideshow of trees. Perhaps not very normal.

But me nonetheless.

I think that at least my teacher enjoyed it, because after I presented he proceeded to tell me about the old American Elm behind the Provo City courthouse.

It looked like an extremely overgrown bonzai tree.

Needless to say, the next time I went home I went to see it.

Ariel loving the old elm.

I couldn't get the whole tree in one shot because the branches were so widespread. Beautiful, but not very photogenic.




Ariel knows me so well. She takes pictures of trees and tags me in them on Facebook.

You can expect many more pictures of trees. Have no doubt about that.

why do i do it?

why do i run?

i run and it hurts [ a good hurt].

this hurt causes a strange phenomenon-

i become me.

like an emotional cadaver,

i am exposed and raw.

no pretending, no facades.

because of this:

i am given the opportunity to reflect.

to not read in between the lines.

i can see the me i want others to see.

my unimportant world fades-

and my important one becomes clearer.

"My PRs will never garner attention or generate awards. But when I run, I am 100
percent me- my strengths and weaknesses play out like a cracked- open diary, my
emotions often as raw as the chafing from my jog bra. In my ultimate moments of
vulnerability, I am twice the woman I was when I though I was meant to look
pretty on the sidelines. Sweaty and smiling, breathless and beautiful: runing
helps us all shine. A lesson worth passing along."

- Kristin Armstrong

the canals.

1100 north.

old, familiar paths of accidentally discovering myself.
again, and again, and again. . .

i only have winter shots. but i think that the snow is magically beautiful.

my favorite

i love that i caught this girl sledding

home.

Endless

Oftentimes I gaze at the lives of others and compare them to my own.

Perhaps not such an uncommon pastime.

I am inspired, awed, motivated and comforted by their:

experiences, insights, accomplishments.

Oftentimes I feel:

inferior, unaccomplished, directionless.

Perhaps not such uncommon feelings.

Will I ever do?

What it is that I want to do?

For days I'll be on the right path-

only to slip up and feel like I'm right back at the beginning.

Habits I think have been vanquished reappear.

I need only to step back and realize:

“We all want progress. But if you're on the wrong road,

progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road;

in that case, the man who turns back soonest-

is the most progressive.” -C.S. Lewis

I do that.

I get stuck– swirling and frustrated.

But I always make it back to the right.

What comfort this brings.

Small and simple things.

I find excitement in wondering-

what will be my great things?

---

This blog is beginning anew. I think I'll try to actually stick with it. Who knows? Maybe it'll be good one day!

LOTR

I'm a nerd for many things.

But Lord of the Rings takes the cake.

Granted, I didn't dress up for the premiere's– and I'm not planning on naming any of my children after characters.

But it's the symbolism throughout the story that just gets me. Sort of like the Chronicles of Narnia (actually just like them).

I'm not going to take the time to explain everything. Just watch/read the saga for yourself.

Here's a little Samwise to get you choked up.