Existing on an In-between

I am sitting on an in-between. Not really sitting. It’s more like floating, but with less movement. I’m in-between semesters, in-between years. I’m even in-between states, nearly on the state line of Idaho and Oregon. I’m half-way in-between my 20^th and 21^st birthdays. It’s like I’m stuck at the top of the big hill at the beginning of a roller coaster. Anticipation is nagging at my stomach, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up and bristle in the wind. I’m sitting right in the middle of the roller coaster car, and I can’t see anything. I have no clue of what’s up ahead except for what I’ve seen from the ground, but that perspective isn’t going to do me any good. I am caught up in the moment of now—so caught up I don’t know which way is down.

At least with a roller coaster you have some kind of security. This in-between is unruly and abrupt—overcast. The longer I wait here, the more its decay is revealed; the more I am able to uncover its flaws. I’m beginning to see the rust eating away at the wheels on my car, freezing it in its place. Soon enough the wheels won’t be able to turn at all. I see the holes in the floor of my car becoming so big my feet begin to fall through. I see support beams failing on the track behind me, unhinged and bending. My world is falling apart.

I lean forward in a panic, shouting at the empty cars in front of me. I can feel the track sway in the wind, tilting from side to side. Its groaning is getting louder and louder, each creak sends chills up my spine. I scream once again in desperation, begging the car to move forward. I can almost feel the momentum building up inside the string of cars, or is it merely within me? I strain my ears, listening for the sound of screeching metal. I wonder why the car won’t just break free.

I take a look outside of the car and down the side of the track. I snap my head back up in fright. The hill was higher than I thought. It shouldn’t be possible, but it seems as if I am thousands of feet off the ground. It is as if I am looking at the ground from an airplane. Even that doesn’t describe it. I can’t see the ground, can’t make anything out. Nothing is clear. In truth, it’s as if I am viewing the past as I look down. Instead of an amusement park below me, I see memories. One small, bustling building is my freshman year of college, the other my senior year of high school. Another larger building is built with the memories of my family. Looming low to the ground is a dark building, seeming to contain the memories of relationships gone wrong. With a shiver, I try to shake away all of these memories. I consider once again my options of escape.

I knew I couldn’t remain up there for much longer. I also knew I didn’t want to return to the past. In a sudden burst of wind, the track was pushed to the left, leaning dangerously toward the ground. With an unhealthy amount of adrenaline and an unexpected dose of faith, I quickly climbed out of my car and into the one in front of me. This new determination refused to be pushed around—to die. I pushed back the screaming fear of plummeting to my death and began climbing from car to car, wiping the sweat from my hands and tears from my face, until I reached the front car.

Unable to see past the sudden fog I offer a small but mighty prayer. I scoot down the side of the car and grab hold of the track. I cling there gripping onto the cold metal with all the strength I can muster, refusing to open my eyes. After what seems like an eternity, I scrape up my leftover courage and slowly open my eyes. Nothing has changed. The wind is still blowing, the track still swaying, my heart still pounding. I try holding back the tears as I lift myself on top of the track in front of the now abandoned car. I wrap my arms around it and bring it into an embrace. Never before had I been grateful for the large metal beast.

As I lie there, hugging the roller-coaster-type track, I gain a sense of security. I had escaped my cage and was now free to roam about as I wished. Though the fog hasn’t yet cleared, I am free. I look down and see my memories, my life laid out so beautifully below me. I no longer fear what is coming, what obstacles are yet to come. I am free. Free of this in-between. I am free, and on my way to the future.

*Photo courtesy of the "Bridget Callahan is Your Best Friend" blog

The Things She Carried

Well, I am finally posting something... but not because I took time out of my day to write it. BUT I wrote this for class and I think it's mighty awesome. Here Goes!


The noise and bustle of the airport echoed in Lauren’s ears as she moved forward in the security line. She hoisted her nearly bursting carry-on onto the conveyor belt that lead into the x-ray machine, and looked at the security guard for approval as she stepped through the metal detector. She paused as she looked to the side and saw that her bag was being examined. “Please step to the side, ma’am,” the security guard droned. With panic tightening in her throat, she quickly obeyed as the guard opened her bag and began searching through it. Once they were finished, not finding anything of consequence, they handed her the small suitcase with its contents spewing over the sides. Lauren sighed and began strategizing how she would fit all of her beloved books back into the bag. She was determined, though. Her books would stay by her side, just as they always had been.


A much younger Lauren was sitting on the cushy bean-bag chairs in her kindergarten classroom when her parents walked into the room with her teacher. She looked up innocently from the pages of her book and smiled. The corners of her lips began to fall at the sight of worried look on her mother’s face, when her teacher asked, “Lauren, can you read this sentence for me?” She looked away from her teacher to focus on the page. As she slowly and determinedly began to read, her parents gasped as pained smiles paralyzed their faces.


It shouldn’t surprise them that Lauren was reading at such a young age, for her mother has read to her for hours-on-end each day, even before she was born. “She would sit there and read,” Lauren explained, “Read through books all of the time. They didn’t have to be young kid books; they were just books she was reading, but she would read it out loud so I could hear it.” With a love of words and stories ingrained in her psyche, Lauren has grown up and thrived within literature. “We used to have reading competitions at elementary school,” Lauren recounts, “and I always won because they were ‘who can read the most books over the summer?’ competitions. I would win and they would give me a bag of books, but I usually owned all of them anyway."


Since her freshman year of high school, Lauren guesses she has read about 2,000 to 3,000 young adult books. These staggering numbers imply that Lauren has read as many books as some professional editors. One might say this makes her somewhat of an expert in the field of young adult literature. However, she wouldn’t view herself that way; she just really loves to read. Her books have taken her on a number of adventures. She has been exposed to situations, ways of thinking, cultures and challenges she would not have experienced otherwise; they have also made her own afflictions easier to understand.


Like any teenager, Lauren has faced many challenges, but not once has she stopped reading. In fact, she has often sought to identify with her favorite characters and confide in them, looking to them for advice and guidance. When she was at the climax of her relationship with her childhood “crush,” she buried herself in silly romance novels and cheesy love songs. She loved to dream and often fanaticized, “This could be my life!” Despite her wishes, this crush broke her heart and abandoned her, leaving her to realize, “Oh, my life isn’t a book.” At that moment, she decided to move on from these childhood fantasies and began picking up more realistic contemporary fiction. “Have you heard of Sarah Dessen?” she asked. “Her books are really realistic and deal with real girl issues.” What are ‘real girl issues’? Romance and fitting-in, of course, are most prevalent, but more important issues like death and eating disorders are penetrating young peoples’ lives everywhere. Authors like Dessen have realized this, and reach out to these young women, giving them a picture of what could be; of hope.


The only place Lauren could find real answers to her life problems was a place she could be confronted within her own mind—inside the pages of a book. Winter Girls by Laurie Halse Anderson is about a girl with anorexia whose best friend dies of bulimia. “There was a time period where I didn’t want to eat anything because I thought I was fat,” Lauren said. “It wasn’t full-on anorexia, but it was . . . I was pretty close.” Winter Girls helped her realize what she was doing to herself. Its first person narration allowed her to approach and examine the mind of the main character and experience her thought process. She was suffering from a very personal and extremely dangerous mental and physical disorder, and this book helped Lauren realize that she wasn’t alone. “You have a certain thought, and then you read it in a book and it clicks. It makes a huge impact on people,” she explained. This deep personal struggle prepared her to deal with the uncontrollable events of the future, and reminded her that she could still rely on her cherished books.


Lauren was unexpectedly separated from a good friend when he recently committed suicide. Before he died, she had read Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher, a chilling story about a girl that commits suicide and leaves cassette tapes recounting the events leading up to her death. The first time she read it, she thought the book had a sad and powerful message, but after the death of her friend she read it again and the story had changed. “It had a completely new meaning. I was reading it and literally crying because it was so meaningful to me,” she explained. That event changed her in more ways than she realized. It inspired her to take control, to move on, and to value life—she learned the importance of living.


Author Henry David Thoreau wrote, “A truly good book attracts very little favor to itself. It is so true that it teaches me better than to read it. I must soon lay it down and commence living on its hint. . . What I began by reading, I must finish by acting.” Youth is the time where young people’s minds are most pliable; the time they are desperately curious to find their standing in life. As teenagers realize how to use what they read to change their lives, they will grow up to be imaginative and enlightened adults.


“I’m going on another trip this summer,” Lauren explained. “This time, we’re flying into England then taking a cruise into Scotland, Ireland, and Iceland.” She’s still hauling around her books. “I’ve been reading a lot of travel novels,” she said. However, it will be different this time, and not just because she has a nook and won’t have to worry about cramming a library into a backpack. This time, her books won’t be her friends, they will be her guides. “I still love reading,” she said, “but it’s not the only thing in my life. I take the lessons I learn from books and apply them to my experiences.” While exploring the British Isles, discovering history, and trying to convince the people that not all Americans are horrible, she will look to her books with contentment, knowing that she is writing a story of her own.

Disappointment and Rejoicing

Life is full of fails: face-palming, head-desking FAILS.


As some of you know, the night I had been waiting for the ENTIRE summer had finally arrived: The Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 Premiere!! I had bought the material for my dress and planned to finish it that night. Nothing could get in my way! Except for one little thing the world likes to call "a job." My life had been full of much rejoicing when I found out that I finally had a job! I knew going into it that it wouldn't be glamorous (washing dishes never is), but I didn't know that it was going to exhaust me to the point of dehydration and extreme fatigue. So the night of the premiere came, and as tired and sick as I was, I was even more determined to go see the movie! I rushed to finish my costume, which turned out to be pretty awesome, and bolted to the theater. I arrived around 8:30, about three and a half hours before the movie was scheduled to begin and was captivated by the whole event. Hundreds of my fellow Harry Potter nerds, dressed up and celebrating this wonderful, yet tragic end to a childhood filled with magic and mischief. Unfortunately, we were forced to stand for hours until they opened the theaters for seating. Luckily, all true Harry Potter fans are made of awesome, so I ended up making a couple of great acquaintances. We discussed our situations in life, hobbies, life plans, and most importantly, our love of Harry Potter. The crowd began to get restless, and somewhat rebellious. They were chanting "LET US SIT!" and razzing each other into a frenzy. At long last, the usher approached us and I braced myself, grabbing my new found friends' arms and holding on for dear life. The rope was removed, and the crowd rushed forward, like a gushing current in a raging river: unstoppable. All I could do was hold on for dear life and hope to find a seat that wasn't horrendous. After all of that standing, fatigue and nauseousness, I sought for relief within the slightly comfortable purple theater seat. I tried to use the rest of my remaining energy in the effort to fall asleep for the hour and a half until the movie started, but I simply couldn't. A) I was anxious for the movie to start. B) The lights were on, children and adults alike were chattering (at the top of their lungs), beach balls were being passed from row to row, and wizarding duels were occurring all around me. C) I felt like the knight bus had ran straight through me. However, it happened to be malfunctioning and instead of going "through" me, it crushed my insides and flattened me on the road, leaving me to put myself back together. My dizziness was increasing, and my will to live was faltering. I was dreading the decision I was about to make, but knew it must happen. So, I went home. An hour before the moment I had been waiting for since December 17th was scheduled to arrive, I went home. Darn responsibility, and DARN WORK! I was petrified that I had made this decision, but mostly, I was disappointed. I felt as if I had failed Harry Potter. He had never given up, had never deserted me when I needed him most. And here I was, falling asleep at his most important moment.


Now, I know this sounds over-dramatized and ridiculous, but the truth is, this is exactly how I felt. I had made Harry Potter a special part of my life. I had made it a priority, and integrated it into my existence. I went to Hermione for counsel, fought with Ron to release my anger, and lent my compassion to Severus Snape. J.K. Rowling had written this story specifically for me. She gave me loyal (and might I say interesting) friends. I had grown up with the series, and it was a real part of my life.


At work the next day, I couldn't have been more grateful for my decision. I felt great; alert and healthy--I could only imagine how I would have felt if I had been out until three in the morning, regardless of what I was doing. It was then that my thoughts wandered to my priorities, goals, and how they compare to how I live my life day to day. What was I doing to further my intelligence? What was I doing to help others progress as well? Was I wasting precious hours every day, or was I taking advantage of the time God has blessed me with? These questions were hard to face, and I'm still trying to take a good look at myself with an eternal perspective. I wonder if I am progressing, or just being stagnant. Is this girl that I see the woman I really want to be? The answer is usually no, and once again, I am faced with disappointment--the type of disappointment you can't escape, not even with the most creative ways of distraction. I become consumed with my faults. I never seem to live up to my expectations, and even if I do, I can easily spot something I can criticize. And as much as I wish this discontent would motivate me to do more to change, it doesn't always. I often sink back into a routine of mediocrity; not doing any intentional harm, but not improving either. Just existing. Existing and forever employed as a "watcher". Watching others fulfill their dreams and succeed. Watching them move on with their lives and forgetting me. Watching them pass over my hand and through my fingers like rain... This is a hard life, and a lonely one. But I brought this state upon myself.


However, I know that deep down I am powerful. I have incredible potential. I have the ability to change the world, or at least someone else's world, even my world. There are times that I see this light, that I find the confidence to take action, even if it is only one small act. And in these I rejoice! A step, no matter how small, is still a step; it is still progression. Progression leads to happiness, confidence, and the desire to make others happy. I still watch. But it is more of a part-time watching. My other part-time job is to accomplish. Little things. Smiling at a stranger, doing the dishes. But big things too. Getting straight A's, raising money for a poor country. Just making a difference. These acts, deeds, exploits... they make disappointment bite the dust. And they make rejoicing possible. Step by step, small success by even smaller success, I will achieve happiness, and I will become that woman I wish to become. Even if it takes a lifetime or two.


Life is full of success: happy-dancing, high-jumping SUCCESS.

Strange Obsessions

Yes, I am obsessive. And I am completely okay with it. 

For example, I am obsessed with hummus. I eat it with everything. On sandwiches, with chips, pita bread  and vegetables... I just love it. It's delicious!

I am also OBSESSED with Owl City. I don't know how he does it, but Adam Young creates music that is perfectly hypnotic. He layers strange sounds and intertwines soaring melodies to create a symphony of feeling. His sweet voice pierces my soul, and his ethereal lyrics speak to my heart. I think it would be normal if my love for Owl City ended here... but it doesn't. I am a full-fledged fan girl. I check his blog daily and report to every single update made on his website. I have even joined the community of Owl City Galaxy. I have come to fall in love with Adam Young... his words inspire me, and his faith is beautiful. Not to mention he's a cutie! Anyway, before this gets too creepy, I think I'll move on.


I believe I am equally, but perhaps less thoroughly obsessed with the VlogBrothers, John and Hank Green. Basically, the two brothers started a "Vlog" (video blog) channel on Youtube, in which they create videos about anything/everything going on in their lives and send them to each other, for all of YouTube to see. Most importantly, they are NERDS! They call themselves "Nerdfighters" and claim that their purpose is to decrease world suck and replace it with awesome. Hank is a musician and John is an author, but they are both internet professionals. Their video-blogging launched their careers and spawned a huge fan-base known as Nerdfighteria. I am becoming a devout follower; watching all of their videos, pre-ordering John Green's new book The Fault in Our Stars 10 months in advance, and joining the fan-based website nerdfighters.com. The road to becoming a real nerdfighter is continual, but I am proud to be among them.


Along with being called a nerdfighter, many people would probably refer to me as a "Jesus Freak". However, I prefer to call myself a follower of Christ. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and I am often referred to as a Mormon. Living the teachings of this Church is my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I guess this can be referred to as an obsession, since I spend the majority of my time (well, all of it) being a "mormon". This is my life, and I love it!


Let's not talk about my Harry Potter obsession. I will just say that I am SOOOOO excited for the Harry Potter 7 Part 2 premiere... I just had the best stroke of luck and found tickets last-minute for the theater right down the street! I am screaming and jumping for joy on the inside, and smiling like a freak on the outside :)


These are currently my most prominent obsessions, and I'm glad to share them with you. 


Also, if any of you haven't run away screaming from this blog post, I congratulate you. 


Don't Forget to Be Awesome!

Habits

Lately, I have noticed that I have been staying up late with nothing to show for it. It's not like I have been composing a symphony or writing a novel under the influence of the moonlight. No, I have been avoiding sleep with the same unproductive routine.

Step 1: Sit on couch and open laptop
Step 2: Open Facebook
Step 3: Close Facebook
Step 4: Stare at desktop
Step 5: Re-open Facebook
Step 6: Fall asleep at computer screen

Depressing, huh? I find that this routine begins earlier and ends later after lazy summer days. The less I am inclined to do, the less I accomplish, and the more I begin to resemble a vegetable-robot. It's almost as if I am an automated machine shaped like a couch potato and programmed to waste precious dreaming hours surfing the hypnotizing and endless waves of the internet. Perhaps I am avoiding sleep; either afraid of what my subconscious will project on the backs of my eyelids, or the reality I will wake up to in the morning.

Last night, I had one of the most terrifying and distressing dreams of my life. I don't recall exactly what had happened, but I remember it had been about school. All I know is that when I woke up, I felt physically anxious. Perhaps I had forgotten to register for classes, and now I was now destined to fail school. The worst part about it all is that I have had this dream before! Reoccurring nightmares about school... I've heard I will be condemned with them all of my life. Lovely.

However, as bad as these nightmares may be, reality, at times, has been much worse. Many times I have felt the feeling you get when you jerk awake from a dream, as if you had been free falling and were about to hit the ground. In reality, I have been pushed off many theoretical cliffs, shoved down emotional wells, and had the rug of "my future" pulled out from under me. Free falling in foreign sky is no stranger to me. I must say that it is much harder to wake up from reality than a dream, but entirely possible. All it takes is faith, imagination, and determination. I have learned that there is a process that will bring not temporary, but lasting happiness.

Step 1: Imagine your life being brilliantly different.
Step 2: Have faith that your life will change.
Step 3: Make all of your possible effort to make that change.
Step 4: Never give up.

These steps are radically different from the habitual late-night wandering that has become so routine to me. This game plan will and already has, without fail, brought me victory.  It's physics. Once I am set in motion, the only way I will stop is if I stop making the effort; if I force myself to stop progressing. That is why step 4 is so important. If my will remains strong, nothing can stop me. I will be undefeated, and "giving up" will be an action I don't comprehend. I'm not saying that my younger siblings will stop breaking my cell phone and iPod, or that my parents will never say NO again. It would be impossible to promise that my teachers will abolish homework and give out A's like candy on Halloween, and even more impossible to promise that I will find my dream job tomorrow or get that raise I have been working so hard for. What I can promise is that if you follow these steps, you will be happy. No matter who says that you look fat, or suck at singing, you won't be bothered by it. It might hurt a little, maybe even a lot, but you will be able to go right back to eating your quart of ice cream and belting "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" in the shower--and feel great about it.

However, a crucial element of this plan is humility. It is necessary to be humble enough to accept change, and to ask for help. It is impossible to do this alone. The most reliable and helpful person I have ever come to know is our Savior, Jesus Christ. Prayer has saved me throughout every "free-falling" instance in my life. There is no way I could get through a single day without praying for help from Christ. Prayer is a habit I highly recommend.

As you gain confidence in yourself, and are able to bounce-back from the beatings the world gives you, It will be easier to make goals. And not only make goals, but achieve them. As I remember forgotten motivation, and discover long-lost confidence, my habits are changed. I no longer feel the need to stay up late at night, searching for something in an empty world. I shed my robot costume and resume my role as a loving friend, responsible older sister, and self-motivated young woman.


Of course there are chinks in my armor and falters in my confidence, but it is always possible to smooth out the chinks, and strengthen my confidence. Effort and endurance create habits. And good habits bring happiness.

Everyday I'm Shufflin'

Well, everyday I'm shufflin' my iPod. It seems like I am always listening to music. When I'm not listening to it, there is at least one song pounding around in my skull. In fact, I have just put my iTunes on shuffle, and as I write this post I will write down the names of all of the songs that have been played, and list them at the end. Also, I recommend any song or artist mentioned in this post.

My music taste has changed dramatically throughout my life. As a child, I was (sadly) part of the boy-band movement. N*SYNC, Backstreet Boys, and 98 Degrees... I was crazy about every single one of them. If I was told to choose, 98 degrees was without a doubt my favorite. Probably because of the song they sang during the credits of Mulan. That movie is the best! Anyway, my parents raised me on late 70s and 80s music, so growing up, ABBA, Queen, Journey, REM, Cindy Lauper, Duran Duran, and U2 were household staples. I must say that my love for 80s music has stuck with me all of my life. There is nothing like singing along to Dancing Queen by ABBA or Killer Queen by Queen--that's a lot of royalty.

The radio is where I heard most of the songs that I liked as an early teenager. Songs like Big Yellow Taxi by Counting Crows and Come on Over by Shania Twain were among my favorites. But as time progressed, my friends began to have a larger influence on what I listened to. For example, a friend got me Paramore and Relient K CDs for my 16th birthday. That was a pivotal moment in the role music held in my life. Getting those CDs brought me an incredible infatuation with music. I craved it. I needed it. It infected me like a virus; there was no getting rid of it. That day was the beginning of my loyal and long-term relationship with YouTube. Day and night, I spent hours on the video sharing website, frantically searching for a new favorite song, and hoping to discover new artists.

Since then, music has come to define a very large part of me. Not only is it a safe-haven from the world, but it has magical powers. Music, without fail, has the ability to sway my emotions. A 3 minute song has the incredible ability to bring me out of a depressed state into a state of complete contentment.  Music reminds me of the beauty of life. Every once and a while, or more often if I look for it, I come across a song that is the exact physical representation of how I am feeling, or what I am thinking about. It's as if the artist had lived as me, in my moment, and epitomized me as a song. They have written words to describe me, and have created music to express what words cannot. In these moments, I escape into the music. I let go of my mind, allow it to run free without any limitations. My heart swells with the crescendos and beats in time with the pulse of the music. My head often bobs and my toes always tap to the beat. Sometimes I can't resist singing along, and harmonizing with the melody. And other times, I have to dance. In these moments, I feel peace. In these moments, I feel like myself! 

Music helps me to feel close to my Heavenly Father. Christ once said, "The song of the righteous is a prayer unto me" (D&C 25: 12). I have witnessed the truth of that statement. Music has been present at the majority of the times I have been moved to tears because of feeling close to my Savior. Music has an incredible power when used to invite the spirit of God into our lives. It can change hearts and perform miracles.

I absolutely LOVE creating music. I wish I had enough talent to write my own music and perform it in front of thousands, but I don't. However, I take as much time as I can to re-create, or at least interpret, others' music. For example, I have tried to develop great skills on the clarinet. Doing so, working for hours on end to figure out one small passage, even a single measure of notes, and accomplishing that feat creates a warm and powerful feeling within me. It makes me feel worthwhile and able. I am continually trying to do so with the piano and my singing voice as well. I dedicate hours of the day to improving my musical skills, and if I have gained anything from it, the most important is inner peace and a clear mind. Music is cleansing, and I am grateful for it. 

As for my musical tastes now, it often varies from early 20th century artists like Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra to Hip-Hop to Country to Soul/Gospel to Electric to Folk to Oldies to Pop to British Invasion to Jazz to Modern Alternative to 80s to Experimental to Acoustic to Punk Rock, and to Baroque, Classical, and Romantic period music. I even like to get my ears on a Gregorian Chant once and a while. And we mustn't forget everything in-between. Many people try to ask me who my favorite artist or band is, or what my favorite song is. Those are questions I could NEVER answer. There are so many different songs that are dear to my heart, and so many memories that are connected with specific artists, that I couldn't possibly remember all of the times I have said "This is my favorite song/band!" Of course there are artists that I follow closely and count down the days until their new album is released, and there are songs that I return to time and time again. However, I am always having new moments, new experiences, and discovering new music. That's the beauty of it; there will always be another song, another day, and another opportunity to use music to create a memory.

I encourage you to go on your own musical journey. Let music become a part of your life. Let it change your heart.

Songs, in order of "shuffle": (Amarillo by We Shot the Moon, Helena Beat by Foster the People, Get Your Back Off the Wall by Family Force 5, Swan Lake, Op. 20 by Tchaikovsky, That Thing You Do by The Wonders, Burn Me Down by House of Heroes, Vincent by Josh Groban, I'm Taking You With Me by Relient K, Saltwater Room by Owl City, I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserables, Intermission by Senator and the New Republic, Book of Mormon Stories/The Golden Plates by Inside Out, In the Pine Forest from the Nutcracker by Tchaikovsky, I Melt by Rascall Flatts, 1, 2, 3, 4 by Plain White T's, This is Our Town by We The Kings, O Light of Life by Mack Wilberg and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Sunshine by Matt Costa, Ready, Set, Go by Tokio Hotel, Lights by Journey, OMG(osh) by Usher, Breathe in Me by Dallyn Vail Bayles, Raise It Up from the August Rush Soundtrack, Running by David Archuleta, Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing by Dallyn Vail Bayles, Nothin' On You by B.O.B and Bruno Mars, That's What You Get by Paramore, Around Us by Jonsi) 

Rain, Wind and Bright Flashing Lights

Last night there was a rather turbulent thunderstorm that passed, or should I say lingered, over my house. I, of course, was nearly oblivious to the entire storm (even though I was sitting right beside the window) because I was furiously typing away to complete my first blog post. Eventually, my mind began to slow and my fingers came to a stop, and for a moment I was encompassed with the thunderous applause coming from the sky. Readying myself for a bow, I gingerly pressed the "publish" button and shared my thoughts with the world. The feeling of accomplishment was truly exhilarating, and I felt my mind racing to find the subject of my next post. Not long after I closed my laptop (after a ridiculously long night of internet chatting and web surfing) I fell asleep. This morning, I woke up much later than I should have, and lo and behold, I couldn't remember a single thing I had thought of last night.

I suppose life is just like that sometimes. Winds of the day constantly toss up memories, ideas, and inspiration, filling your mind with a whirlwind of wild conceptions. Captivating and dazzling, these thoughts can strike like a flash of lightning, and resonate with a boom of thunder. But how instantly they fade away, only to be washed from you with rain. Whether the rain is sleep or distraction, our minds move quickly. Transporting our focus to and from topics, bits of information, and emotions like an underground subway. Always in motion, but hardly detectable from the outside. This inner storm can be violent, and when it is, it drives our actions. However, this storm can also be as calm as a sea breeze, soothing us into a state of repose.

When these storms beat upon us, let us not be overcome, but take command of their power and utilize it for our benefit. Be inspired. Become motivated. Be courageous. Take action.

When these storms are still, bask in the sunshine. Feel peace. Let worry be a fictional emotion. Relax.

Now all I can do is hope that the sunshine comes back for more than 5 minutes at a time. 

Darn that Ohio weather... Haha.

Trifles

Hello fellow bloggers, friends, and all the others finding their way here! This is my first blog post in my very first blog... and my excitement is tangible!

Sadly, I will not be talking about the delicious dessert known as the trifle. Layers of soft, spongy angel food cake upon layers of bright and succulent fruit and creamy yogurt... Now that we're all craving this season-appropriate dessert, I'll continue.

No, the trifles I will be writing about today are the silly things in life; seemingly unimportant things done, seen, or experienced every day that are commonly ignored or deemed useless. Grass, clouds, showers, celery, fingernail polish, popcicles, swings, ice cream trucks, laughter, etc. All of these are simple and easily classified as mere trifles when compared to more important things such as our schooling, careers, and relationships. Yet, when noticed in a moment of despair, or even the slightest moment of sadness, these trifles can be classified as small miracles.

It is a sunny day and you are lying within the shade of a tree. It is hot and humid, and there is no air conditioning to be felt. Your clothes are sticking to your skin with sweat when all of the sudden, you hear a faint sound cutting it's way through the muggy air toward you. Wiping your forehead, you dismiss the sound for fear of being disappointed and close your eyes to continue on existing in this pitiful state. However, not a moment later, you hear it again. Can it be? You are instantly brought back to the days of your youth. Running through the sprinklers with the other children on your street, there are no cares in the world. Everything is perfect and your innocence is blissful. These are the memories coursing through your veins as you open your eyes. Yes! The ice cream truck, shouting it's playful tune, is coasting easily down your street. Your hand reaches down to your pocket and success! You jump to your feet and run to the edge of your yard, beckoning the driver to pull over. The colors are dazzling, and advertise the most delicious and appealing treats you could imagine! Your eyes fly from one blissful thing to the next, and come to rest on the red, white, and blue Popsicle. You desire nothing else but to hold that marvelous blend of sugar and ice in your hand. You pay the saint of an ice cream truck driver and thank him with a brilliant youthful smile. As you come to sit under the tree once more, you look at the miracle in your hands, already tasting it. Delicately, but with a terrifying amount of urgency, you tear the wrapper and bring the Popsicle to your lips. The cold is an instant cure for your previous misery. You no longer feel the heat, as all you notice is the remarkable sensation proceeding to unfold within your mouth. It is stupendous! You have hardly experienced this level of relief before, and you couldn't be more grateful. You continue on in this elated state, forgetting the heat and all other troubles. For, what could be better than a red, white and blue Popsicle on a hot day?

As dramatic as that retelling is, I have found that in the moment, a simple Popsicle can truly be a miracle. Don't take the small things in your life for granted. Because some day, when you really need it, there might not be an ice cream truck, and the heat could overwhelm you. Allow yourself to live in the moment. Let there be trifles galore!