May this blog rest in peace.

Titleless

"Are you an onion?" "Yes," he replied.  Of course before I ever asked the figurative question, I already knew the answer.  I was happy to hear the answer I expected nonetheless.  I enjoy the layers and I enjoy not knowing everything there is to know.  My most dear friend is an onion. 

In reality every human being is a complex configuration of their experiences, environment, personality, character, fears, ambitions, desires, motives, emotions, thoughts, feelings, passions, etc.  And then to think of every human being, each with his own DNA, which means their bodies are individually distinct and different as well as their minds being wired differently.  Yes, we are all pretty much the same.  I have a nose, and most likely you have a nose too.  Eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.  Yada yada yada.  Despite our similarities, there are endless ways that we are different and complex.  

Some of us dive deeper into exploring the depths of our own souls more than others.  Which means some of us understand some of our own complexities with greater clarity than others understand their own.  

I believe it takes a lifetime and more to discover who oneself is.  

At age 14, I remember walking out of the bathroom one day and catching glimpse of myself in the mirror.  For some reason or other, I saw myself in a different perspective which caused me to pause and return back to the mirror.  I stood in front of the mirror with my face right up close and stared at myself.  I wanted to stare into my reflection for as long was necessary until I saw who I truly was.  I hoped that what I knew myself inwardly as would match what I saw outwardly.  I distinctly remember singing that Mulan song that goes "Who is that girl I see staring straight back at me?  Why is my reflection someone I don't know? ... When will my reflection show whom I am inside?  Dorky, I know.  But it wouldn't surprise you to know that I cried that day looking at my reflection and feeling lost and like a stranger.  I felt like an orange amongst apples.  Someone that just didn't fit.  And as a young adult, we want to fit so badly into what is "normal" and "typical" and "cool."  But as I stared at myself in the mirror, I didn't see anything new or discover the girl inside of me.  It was the same image that I had always known and the workings of my inner self were, still the same, elusive to me.

At the time, I had no idea how I could get from point A to point B - from not knowing who I was to discovering, knowing, and understanding myself.  Approximately ten years later, I can look in the mirror and understand a great deal more about myself.  Still, it is only a fraction.  But instead of crying, a grimace creeps across my face because I am proud of my talents and my uniqueness, so much that it makes me smile.  For the most part, I embrace the orange that I am and do not try to blend in as an apple.   

But, I think of myself and the complexities that I am familiar with and that are distinct to me (relatively distinct at least).  Its overwhelming to try to comprehend the entire workings of my heart, mind, and soul all in one moment!  And then multiply that by a billion and even more! We are a whole race of people walking around this earth too complex to comprehensively imagine our diversity and the make-up of each individual!!!  There is no one equation that is followed to equal the product of the human being.  Mind boggling I tell you! lol  Seriously.

Somehow we manage to get along.  Not despite, but I think especially because of our differences, we manage to get along.  We find pleasure in the other's company.  But the greatest miracle of all I think is to love them.

I do not understand one's capability to love, not in any of it's forms.  But I find myself capable of it anyhow.  The greatest gift I have been given is that ability to love.  I wish to use it rightly and wisely.  Perhaps in part for this reason, I write this entry.

There are certain rights that EVERY human being is entitled to.  One of the which is the right to be who you choose to be.  To be an individual.  Say it however you will.  We, as a gift from God, have been given agency.  The very principle that the War in Heaven was fought over - agency. It's a HUGE deal.

And as an ugly part of human nature, we have the tendency to want to project our opinions and the choices we would personally make onto others.  ie:  At a restaurant, one friend questions and asks the other, "Ewww.  Why did you order the clam chowder?  You should have ordered something like... instead."  Also: back-seat drivers.  Start thinking of all the times you project what you would choose, think, or do onto others.  Most likely, its frequent.  We want others to choose how we would choose.  We want others to behave as we would behave.  To think as we think.  Are they not entitled to just as much exercise of freedom of choice as we are?

Perhaps there is no more satisfying love than to love unconditionally embracing the differences.  Unless those differences are acknowledged, recognized and respected, the love offered seems shallow at best.   

So whatever you are, whoever you are, you deserve to be permitted to be you.  And permitted the opportunity and privilege to discover who you are and choose what you want to be.  You will love people for their differences and as you do, you will inevitably be loved in return.

To the knappy, buck-toothed, freckle-faced, grossly skinny, red-headed little girl looking at her self in the mirror singing with an imperfect voice... hold on.  You are just right as you are.  In the eyes of those that love you, you are beautiful - inside and out.  Nothing will make you more beautiful than the belief that you are beautiful and as you act accordingly you will allow and lead others to see their individual beauty.  

Do you love me because I am beautiful or am I beautiful because you love me?  As God's creations, we are indisputably beautiful and unique.  Of all the billions and billions of people to live, each is their own and our greatest gift and challenge is to love them.

Chasing the Intangibles

A mighty and super cool thunderstorm was swirling in the sky above and all around me and I thought, "There is NO WAY that I am missing this!"  I love thunder and rain storms so I was thrilled that I was in a circumstance that allowed me to relish and make the most of the storm.  Naturally, my good friends allowed me to bow out of what had just been freshly planned for the night and released me so that I could chase the storm and enjoy it for all its worth!  Sweet moment of freedom!!!!  I grabbed my favorite plaid blanket, jumped in my car, and was off!  I turned off all noise so that I could hear the soothing sounds of the rain beating against my car.  

The heaviest part of the storm was in the middle of the valley and middle of the city by the time I was able to hit the road.  I wasn't only interested in being in the thick of the storm, but more interested in being in the thick of the storm by myself in the middle of no where so that I could see, breathe, and hear the sounds of nature.  The next best place to be in the storm was nestled right up into the mountains near Alpine.  I meandered my way through unknown roads until finally I found myself at a road that could go no further.  I was at the base of the mountain that still sported snowy fields.  I heard the sound of wind through the trees and fast rushing water nearby.  I unrolled my windows, turned off the lights, reclined my chair and covered myself with my blanket so that only my face could feel the cold and rainy wind blowing through the woods.  The rain pitter pattered against the roof - a sound so delicate that it could not be heard on the drive over the sound of the rain hitting the windshield which although enjoyable does not compare with the sound upon the rooftop.  

I had finally arrived!!!  And... as I listened to the sounds of nature, felt the change in temperature upon my skin, and felt the beatings of my heart getting slower and more relaxed, I knew that I was absolutely content in that one moment.  I longed for nothing more than what I had.  I had no desire to leave, no worry that encroached upon my mind, no anger that burdened my heart, no wish other than what I had that very place and time.  I simply just wanted to be.  I could even smell the aroma of the alpine trees and wondered if I could capture it to keep and carry with me for reference at a later date.  Surely the store-bought car scent does the true smell no justice.  

So many inferior things are used as a substitute for the real deal.  Sometimes in the rush of life surrounded by concrete and stop lights I forget that in the simplicity of nature is where I most long to be.  Even the clothes that I adorn myself with day to day attempting to masquerade myself as a semi-professional and spend far too many dollars and hours in the pursuit thereof are far different than the clothes I most want to be in.  Give me a pair of durable canvas shorts, a Hane's tee, and Chacos and call me a happy girl.  

Getting back to the basics.  I've made some progress here and there and have regressed equally in other areas.  Sometimes I feel that it is my life that rules me and not I that rule my life.  And I take that back, I need to allow my life to be ruled by the man upstairs, my perfect Father in Heaven.  Silly Me, I fill my time with so many unnecessary and inconsequential frivolities.  

But before I lose the blessings of the day that were found at the end of the road in a rainstorm, I will lay aside thoughts of inadequacy and shortcoming.  After an hour or so the storm passed, the evening sky was getting dark and the profile of the mountains was beginning to blend with the oncoming night.  

The day was beautiful for what I found even for the duration of my short adventure "chasing" the rain and finding a resting place to enjoy its short life-span overhead.  Sweet solace and sweet creation.  I'd chase a thousand storms to see what could be found at the end of each road.

Simple Thursdays

One of the few places that I consistently feel at peace and tranquil is in front of a computer typing away and spelling out my thoughts and emotions.  I'm deeply grateful for the refuge I've found in writing.  I think it takes a specific and patient soul to wade through and appreciate my overly emotional, idealistic, and lengthy writings.  If I can communicate through writing I consider myself lucky.  It is unobtrusive and I appreciate the chance to communicate in such a way.

Although as of late, I find that my thoughts will not lay still long enough to be captured in writing - this is a great frustration for me because I am unable to receive the therapeutic benefits that come from having expounded well the workings of my inner self.  When I am able to draw those thoughts from my mind and spill them onto paper (or screen), the effects make me feel as if I have just been given a calming serum intravenously.

A simple but unexpected explanation to my frustrated writing habits is that I have no audience.  I am a communicator by nature and happily guilty of being labeled as a blue in Dr. Taylor Hartman's Color Code which means I long for meaningful relationships and I thrive on human interaction.  But as I write or as I have attempted to write on my blog in the last months, I find that my mind refuses to relinquish in any coherent form the workings of my heart and mind.  Which makes me wonder... why am I mute when there is no audience?  What does an audience import?  What validation do I seek?  Why do I need a receiver to reveal my best self to?  Can I not just emulate what I am or who I am regardless?  Can I not share my talents and gifts with the world without having an obvious specific receiver?  I should be able to I know.  

As of late I have not made myself readily available to bear the burdens of those around me.  I am willing and desire to do so but as observers have noted, it has been difficult to form any connection or bond with me.  I have not done sufficient introspection to know the reasons for my hard and unapproachable demeanor as perceived by those individuals who are new to my acquaintance.  I suppose it is relevant to me not receiving a reaction/response/validation from the specific audience that I seek...

... and thats as far as my mind permits me to travel this evening.  My thoughts have just escaped me.

****** the below is what I had originally written but before publishing the post, I returned to what was previously only a preface and made a somewhat successful effort to expound upon the thoughts I was having.  *******

I've learned and experienced a great deal of goodness today.  Simple things and simple pleasures.  Instrumental piano music by Ludovico Einaudi while driving up Big Cottonwood Canyon alone with the crisp smell of the running river by the side of the road, feeling enlightened and strengthened through the Holy Spirit of the Lord as I sat through my first of the semester's institute classes.  I got to make pinwheels for centerpieces at work and even a few extra for my new boss's children (he seemed to enjoy the pinwheels as much as I did).  At the end of the day, I was even lucky to watch a film about a mom who is a breast-cancer patient and going through chemo.  I sat with a friend and shared our first one-on-one conversation sharing personal stories and experiences.  I saw an old friend and was lucky to be on the receiving end of a favor being given.  I remembered and missed someone who I have great love for and even wondered - "What do I do with this love in my heart for one who is no longer with me?"  My answer was to give that same love to someone new and risk new experiences and risk creating trust and dedicating service to a new benefactor.  

Today is a Thursday and I am not surprised at all that it has been such a lovely and full day.  Thursdays, second to Sundays, have long been one of my favorite days of the week.  

Par 3

I never would have thought an evening at the driving range would have such great affects. As I received coaching from a trusted friend, I focused every part of myself on the few instructions I was being given, maintaining a good "athletic stance," an appropriate distance from the end of the club and myself, keeping my left arm straight and my right arm as close to my body as possible, etc. I heard that in order to have a perfect golf swing, there have got to be 225 things that go right. Amusing to think how few of those 225 things I was focusing on.

That evening I felt a tremendous peace. Maybe the fact that I was enjoying the companionship of a cherished friend and enjoying the comfort that comes from 4 years of friendship, and oddly even the walking boot I wore on my left foot was a natural part of me that night as I was in the company of my friend instead of being a foreign object and cumbersome, but there was more to my peace than just that.

Despite the smile I wear externally and visibly, my gregariousness, and the straight forward and confident approach, my mind is typically overwhelmed with activity. For the most part, I am able to organize the twister of thoughts, but occasionally, and as of late frequently, I feel like I am running after a run-away carriage - too many thoughts, too many emotions, too many tasks, too many stresses, too many pressures, too many expectations, too many worries, and too many dreams and aspirations to maintain control of. Sometimes I feel like they are leading me instead of me leading them.

But, that warm evening at the driving range - focusing and discarding the unnecessary thoughts in my mind I was led to a great peace. My mind was calm. For a few moments, I felt centered. My friend is amused with my new love for golf and my reasoning behind it. But, nonetheless, I think he is happy to have found a new golfing partner.

Since that night when I felt a great calm, I have been motivated to continue to maintain that peace and tranquility. Being inspired once again to concentrate on the essentials and basic principles of life - compassion, kindness, understanding, living without fear, simplicity, spirituality, and balance.

Again, I am drawn back to study the teachings of Buddha and meditation. There are great things I want to accomplish in this life and I must learn organization to my thoughts and eliminate the unnecessary and imprudent burdens.

To be continued...

A Lesson in Discipleship

Its been so long since I've felt a desire to write. However tonight, I am overwhelmed with emotions and don't seem to know what to do with them all. Emotions of love, of gratitude, of convictions. Its been an Easter quite different than any I would have imagined or that I imagine having in the future. But dispite the myriad of activities that did not seem fitting of what an Easter should be, the opportunity to celebrate the sacrifice and resurrection of Jesus Christ still found way to reveal itself.

I'm listening to the hymn Amazing Grace one of the most touching hymns regarding the miracle of a blind man finding Jesus Christ and being blessed by the effects of the Atonement. My heart grows tender just listening and remembering my dear sweet Savior.

For some unknown reason today my mind recollected some experiences from my mission. President Arnold, our area authority was speaking at a Zone Conference and was encouraging us to improve the number of street contacts we made each day. How as representatives of Jesus Christ we should feel an urgency to share the message with everyone around us, no matter what. The amount of street contacts being made in the mission by the missionaries at that time was very low. The reason for the low stats was most likely the fear of rejection. President Arnold continued to bear his testimony about being a representative of Christ and the responsibility to carry His message to every ear that could hear the message. Inevitably we would be rejected by some who did not want to hear. Inevitably some would mock, lie, be cruel to, or ridicule us as we tried to proclaim the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The small amount of rejection that we were asked to face compared to the ridicule and rejection that Christ faced and the price He paid in our behalves are far from being similiar. The message that President Arnold wanted to instill in us was that we should be proud to be rejected for Jesus Christ. Whatever the cost to spread the message of Jesus Christ and be representatives of Him, we should be honored to pay.

I don't have the words to explain what that means adequately except that I know when I faced rejection after that, it did not hurt. I was being rejected for the cause of Jesus Christ. In the like matter that a soldier fights for his country and is willing to lay down even his life. It seems frivolous to think that someone might shrink from the opportunity to represent Jesus Christ if it meant only that that person would face a small amount of rejection. But sometimes in the rush of life, our forgetfulness, and our ego-centric habits, we shrink from the call to stand as witnesses of Christ at all times, in all things, and in all places.

Today served as a reminder to me to stand as a witness of Christ at all times, in all things and in all places. It is the very least that I can do to show my gratitude for what has been given to me by my Savior. I would be proud to be rejected for my Savior. Again, words do not suffice, nor do I want to extract those sacred feelings that live within my soul that reflect the love and gratitude that I have for my Savior and Redeemer Jesus Christ.

Meu Salvador

Now there is something to be said about the Savior. I wish that this blog posting could be written in music and song rather than just words because songs capture so much more fully the depth of feeling and communicates not only what the composer thinks and feels but is a reflection to the listener of the sacred things that lie in their own heart. A song can be communion between composer and listener without the two ever having to meet.

But as I am mortal and already used to the strings that bind and limitations that prohibit me from living all the desires of my heart, I will settle with just words.

First, as a disclaimer. Words can be eloquent, persuasive, meaningful, and even have the power to penetrate the softest tissues of our hearts, but in the end, words are only words. A combination of symbols in print that reflect an idea, thought, etc. Although I write today in words, they are only symbols on a paper, nothing of extraordinary worth.

What is of worth is how I live. How I support my words with my actions. What I am found doing and thinking in the solitude when I am alone. How I extend myself to others when I am not in peaceful solitude. How I love. How I live my testimony and gratitude rather than just write and dream about it.

So, my true testimony and my true identity lie in my works.

My Savior Jesus Christ. Based from what I do know of Him, I believe that I love him. Although as imperfect demonstration of my life that I offer, I believe still, that I love him.

The comprehensive meaning of the sacrifice that He performed is beyond me and I expect that it will be through the duration of my mortal life.

His love is almost impossibly sweet and pure. The kindness that is reflected in His eyes in even a painting connects me with this Heavenly Being. Heavenly and Earthly. He knows no heavenly limitations yet is familiar with every earthly limitation. He has mastered the skills necessary to live a perfect life. Mastered them perfectly the first time and every time.

He knew the balance between keeping himself clean from the impurities of the world, yet not shunning away from the people who were buried deep in those impurities. I strive to understand how I too can learn that balance. And when I err, He is there to reassure me that my errors and the cost for them has already been paid. I don't understand His grace and how it is extended to me infinitely.

He is wise enough and kind enough to allow me to experience great pain in the moment because it is a lesser amount of pain than what I would experience in the future than if He were to spare me from that present pain, or enduring that seemingly so tragic disappointment that I face today.

Although my works are a reflection of who I am, He is compassionate enough not to judge me until the end of my days. Not what I am currently. He can see me for what I was yesterday, who I am today, and who I will be many tomorrows from now.

He is patient enough to walk beside and not scold me when I fall into the same old habits and forget the new lessons that I have already been taught countless times. He allows me to repent endlessly. He allows me to repent even when I take for granted His Atonement which is precious above all. He allows me to repent when I am blind and am an ungrateful servant and would seek to keep others from receiving those same blessings that I have already received and proudly assume that I will continue to receive.

He sacrificed everything. For every mistake that I have made, every sin of omission and commission that I have been too carnal, too lazy, too proud, too apathetic, and too ignorant that were all manifestations of my unwillingness to sacrifice myself the same way that He was.

He blesses me with the goodness of those around me -strangers, acquaintances, associates, friends, ward family and my own family members. Their warmness, uplifting words, counsels, concern, laughter, and time spent with me sharing their talents are all tender mercies of the Lord.


To be continued. I will write my conclusion another night. I'm drained of energy.

Sunday Cookies & Company

Sweet, sweet Sunday. Oh how I love the close of Sundays. Sunday has long been my favorite day of the week. Singing, worship, instruction, recommitment, testimony, prayer, reflection, friends, and good food-it seems a perfect combination.

Most Sundays I feel that the previous week has come to an appropriate and timely close and I am well ready to start a new week. This Sunday I wish the new week were not starting already. This previous week has ended ambiguosly. There has been a great close but at the same time, this same closing is not a closing at all. This closing has led me to a wide open horizon. How many times have I faced this same blank horizon? Too many to count. Typically, facing the horizon and imagining the possibilities I would be energized and ecstatic. This time, I face it with happiness and an open mind, but all the while, still with a knawing stomach ache.

At the end of such a wonderfully simple and enjoyable day it seems absurd that it should also be accompanied by a profound stomach ache.

The road is long and I am tired.

I should be grateful to be tired. All of the greats must have lived with constant exhaustion. I should be grateful the road is long. How many more lessons does the road afford me because it is long?

The Lord is good to me and provides me with answers. Answers do not always mean understanding. But by default, the answers help me compartmentalize some of the useless information circulating in my head. The answers teach me what is relevant and what is not.

On Saturday night, another almost perfect day, I found myself longing to be back in the temple of the Lord once more. Circumstances only permitted me to walk about the temple grounds for a few short minutes and bask in the tranquility that exists even outside of the walls. The warm light visible through the windows glowed into the night dark. How badly I wanted to be inside where that light came from, how badly I wanted the same peace that filled my soul just one night before. Oh yes, the peace is still within my heart and even my mind, but more by memory than by way of feeling. I know the Lord expects me to remember my thoughts and feelings from that night. I know that I will need to lean upon them because the road is still long.

But, it is not a road that I am unfamiliar with walking. I walk each step with greater experience than I had before. I am an opportunist and have therefore looked for opportunities of growth and development along the way. I have made myself available to the experiences that transform a person. They have enabled me to walk tall and confidently. I may not know what the road in front of me looks like, but I know for the most part which tools I need to be successful. I am the woman I am presently because my hands are well familiar with those tools. I know them. I practice using them. I am blessed with having a good understanding and working knowledge of them. I am able to live well because of my experiences, knowledge and application of it.

The Lord has blessed me abundantly and has extended to me an even greater amount of grace and mery, as He does with all. However, it is our choices of what we will do with the opportunities of growth and development that will dictate how permanent those blessings remain and are perpetuated.

Now as I continue on my path.... what other skills and tricks of the trade will I learn? haha

Surely, life is both a tragedy and a comedy, but I pity the man who can only see it as a tragedy.

Computer Error

Writing has become a vice. Somehow it has turned into an addiction that I am starting to feel prisoner to. I love writing. Its like a drug. When I write, and my thoughts, emotions, ideas, feelings, etc are expressed I feel a relief and satisfaction in having taken what is unorganized internally and organizing it externally.

I feel an information overload. In my desire to write, my naturally existing desire to observe has been magnified. My mind is constantly observing, thinking, and trying to process all the information that I take in. There are too many theories, philosophies, ideas, facts, laws, and opinions that contradict one another. Without organization in my mind, or without an appropriate compartment to store and file all the information that my mind is taking in, the information cycles around and around without a resting place. All the while, I'm trying to make sense of it all and formulate a correct equation. But I don't know which tidbits of information should be the factors and which tidbits are the sums of the various factors and which do not even belong the the equation.

I'm an idealist. I have a certain perception of the world that is quite and unbelievably flawed. Some would say it is one of my great strengths. I, who live with an incorrect and skewed vision of the world, wish I could perceive things less ideally and closer to reality.

Sometimes I am afraid that if I were to see the world for what it really is, it might break my spirit. The realists might call me naive for my perspective of the world. I disagree. I know that my perception of the world is heavily marked by hope and optimism, which should not be confused for ignorance.

I know that my optimism affects a good number of people in a positive way. They tell me they are grateful for it and that it is a great strength to them. For this reason, I am grateful for my optimism.

How does my optimism and idealism affect me? It makes me resilient -one of my defining characteristics. No matter how dark the day, my spirit seems to pierce through the darkness (sometimes the gloom being a product of my own actions/words/thoughts). How does my optimism affect me for the negative? Tonight I am more aware of the negative effects. My optimism hurts me. It brings pain to my little heart that is immensely feeling. I take risks, I give people the benefit of the doubt, I believe that love makes a difference -no matter in what form it is given, I sacrifice myself for the sake of the cause.

But in the end, I know my perception of the world is flawed. My personal philosophy of the best way to live brings great disappointment and heartache.

But even my philosphy of how life should be lived is resilient. Dispite the pain, dispite the proof that I will be disappointed continually, I cannot shake myself of the hope I have in people. I cannot convince myself that I will always be disappointed. What a silly farce. I know I will be disappointed for given reasons always thoughout periods of my life and until the end of my life. But what I know, what I hope for, and what I believe do not always match. They should match. There would be less turmoil in my mind if they were all congruent with eachother.

Sometimes, I get tired of hurting. Sometimes I get tired of observing the actions of others and feeling the effects on my heart as sometimes the effects are so painfully cruel.

When we are little, and people tell us that life is hard, I think we have no idea what they are talking about. Only as I get older, and see life continually getting harder do I start to imagine the depth of the phrase, "life is hard." It would be more appropriate to say, "life kicks the living crap out of you." The purpose of getting the crap kicked out of us is to see what we are made of. If at the end of our lives, there is something left of us that is good, then I suppose we will merit a reward.

At this very moment, all I can do is try to cope. There is a fine line that separates those who are mentally, emotionally, & socially well from those who have lost it. All I try to do is walk the line, continuing in my duties, my responsibilities, applying my knowledge so that I can live wisely, and trying to find a balance between my philosophy of life and loving as much as I can and the reality of a uncaring world.

I pray that there is someone taking care of me from up above because I do not know how to do what I do any differently than how I do it. I pray that the stretching of my soul will lead to a beautiful and stronger product.

The Visionary, The Champion, The Inspirer

Charles Dickens, Joan Baez, Dave Matthews, John Lennon, Jewel, Eleanor Roosevelt & Bill Cosby - just a few of us who belong to the club ENFP. 2-3% of the world's population is represented by us and others like us. I am proud to be among them. We are called ENFP, short for Extraverted Intuitive Feeling & Perceptive.

When I first heard about personality profiles, I was was a skeptic and was sure that they were only taken seriously by quacks and weirdos. haha And then... years later, I was forced to participate in one... and it was surprisingly accurate. The more I learned, the more I marveled. Truly, as I love people, it continues to be a fascination still. Through the years, there have been few things that have managed to maintain both my fascination and attention.

Even for someone who resists being labeled as much as I do, I have to surrender and submit to the legitimacy of being labeled an ENFP by the Myers-Briggs personality profile. Definitely uncanny how I am described on paper almost perfectly by someone who is far displaced from me.

Some links I discovered. The first being the best.

http://www.geocities.com/lifexplore/enfp.htm

http://similarminds.com/jung/enfp.html

http://www.personalitypage.com/ENFP.html


Profile by Sandra Krebs Hirsch and Jean Kummerow

Living

ENFPs are initiators of change who are keenly perceptive of possibilities, and who energize and stimulate through their contagious enthusiasm. They prefer the start-up phase of a project or relationship, and are tireless in the pursuit of new-found interests. ENFPs are able to anticipate the needs of others and to offer them needed help and appreciation. They bring zest, joy, liveliness, and fun to all aspects of their lives. They are at their best in situations that are fluid and changing, and that allow them to express their creativity and use their charisma.

Because they see endless possibilities, to select one possibility appears to the ENFP to be too narrow a focus. They hate to be boxed into a career for life and therefore hesitate and resist making decisions. It is unwise for ENFPs to settle down too early, and they make the soundest choices when they delay career and marriage decisions until their middle to late twenties. Often when a decision is made, ENFPs will still leave a number of options open or change their minds as they encounter new information.

Even in their everyday activities, ENFPs often search for the new and the novel. If there is a logical route to work and ENFP has been driving that way continually, he or she will likely tire of it and look for other routes.

Learning

ENFPs often learn best through a variety of means, such as observing, reading, and listening to and interacting with others. They enjoy the search for new ideas and possibilities, and will put in the time necessary to master subjects they find interesting. One strength is their enthusiasm for the process of discovery. They enjoy survey courses, comparative studies, and disciplines in which there is much to research and explore. They do not like classes that are too structured, that consist only of lectures, and that allow no room for their imagination. They may get caught up in the learning process and consequently need strict deadlines to bring a project to completion.

ENFPs prefer a learning environment in which the teacher takes personal interest in them, in which there is an opportunity to talk about ideas with their peers, and in which there is a chance to ask questions and develop new ideas.

ENFPs like travel and reading because these activities open experiences of other times and places. Their reading often brings quiet and reflection time, as well as new material for their dreams. Their travels afford them opportunities to experience different people and cultures.


Working

The preferred work setting for ENFPs contains imaginative people focused on human possibilities. ENFPs want a work environment that is both physically and mentally colorful. They prefer a participative and collegial atmosphere in which employees are included in the decision making. ENFPs are less productive where there is disharmony because they pay more attention to the relationships between people at work than they do to the tasks. Their ideal job would offer variety, novelty, challenge, and freedom from tight supervision; it would be idea oriented and imaginative, and would have lively, energetic people enjoying themselves and their tasks.

Leading

ENFPs are energetic and enthusiastic leaders who are likely to take charge when a new endeavor needs a visionary spokesperson. ENFPs are values-oriented people who become champions of causes and services relating to human needs and dreams. Their leadership style is one of soliciting and recognizing others' contributions and of evaluating the personal needs of their followers. ENFPs are often charismatic leaders who are able to help people see the possibilities beyond themselves and their current realities. They function as catalysts.

Of course, these are only exerpts. But even in their incompleteness, they are still accurate. Worth investigating your own type.

Long Way Around

I’m sitting at home alone, cuddled in my favorite fleece blanket, being soothed by Nora Jones music, and reminiscing the moments I was with my new nephew tonight in the hospital. Tranquility. Peace. Oh how sweet it is.

On the drive home from the hospital I was once again jamming out with my favorite gals, the Dixie Chicks. Each time I listen to their album, Taking the Long Way, I am further impressed with the completeness of that album. From the first time I pushed the play button, I fell in love with it.

Many of their songs and especially the album cover could be included on the soundtrack of my life. So I will raise my glass to those brilliant women the Dixie Chicks and praise them heartily. Of course, lyrics are only half the beauty. Only listening to the songs can you grasp the full scope.

The Long Way Around

I've been a long time gone now
Maybe someday, someday
I'm gonna settle down
But I've always found my way somehow
By taking the long way
Taking the long way around
I met the queen of whatever
Drank with the Irish and smoked with the hippies
Moved with the shakers
Wouldn't kiss all the asses that they told me to
No I, I could never follow
It's been two long years now
Since the top of the world came crashing down
And I'm getting' it back on the road now
But I'm taking the long way
Taking the long way around
Oh, I'll just take my time, I won't lay down
And take the long way around
Well, I fought with a stranger and I met myself
I opened my mouth and I hurt myself
It can get pretty lonely when you show yourself
Guess I could have made it easier on myself
But I, I could never follow
No I, I could never follow
Well, I never seem to do it like anybody else
Maybe someday, someday I'm gonna settle down
If you ever want to find me I can still be found
Taking the long way
Taking the long way around


Easy Silence

When the calls and conversations
Accidents and accusations
Messages and misperceptions
Paralyze my mind
Busses, cars, and airplanes leaving
Burning fumes of gasoline
And everyone is running
And I come to find a refuge in the
Easy silence that you make for me
It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay
Monkeys on the barricades
Are warning us to back away
They form commissions trying to find
The next one they can crucify
And anger plays on every station
Answers only make more questions
I need something to believe in
Breathe in sanctuary in the
Easy silence that you make for me
It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay
Children lose their youth too soon
Watching war made us immune
And I've got all the world to lose
But I just want to hold on to the
Easy silence that you make for me
It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The easy silence that you make for me
It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me
And the peaceful quiet you create for me
And the way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay for me
The way you keep the world at bay

Quivering Voices and Fearful Eyes

The unexpected is always upon us.

My mother is dying.  She refuses to visit the doctors because she is afraid of what they will tell her.  I don't know if ignorance is bliss.  She is not ignorant.  I think she knows deep down that this time is different.  This time the cancer is different.  It is the first time that I have seen my mom afraid.  She tries to hide it.  To protect us from the hurt.  But it will come.  When it does come, it will come with no announcement.  And after it has come, we will look back and wonder in what ways it could have been different had we had a sure knowledge.  In which ways would we have lived differently.

Because my mom avoids confronting the realities of her cancer, we too are permitted to avoid confronting them.  Only postponing the inevitable.  

I often try to imagine the reality of losing my mom prematurely.  I guess the word prematurely is all relative.  Maybe I should say, losing her earlier than expected rather than prematurely.  But, I cannot know how I will feel.  How my dad will feel, my brothers, my sisters.  

Death.  It affects us all differently.

If there is one surety, it is that life goes on.  Life does not wait.  It rolls on.  Death may take our loved ones from us.  Our loved ones may simply change and voluntarily walk out the exit door of our lives.  Where are we left?  The same place as we were before they disappeared from our realm of experience.  We are left with the same responsibilities to fulfill.  In effect of our loss, our feelings may be deeper and more intense than anything we've ever known.  Our feelings may paralyze us and leave us numb.  But all the while, life rolls on.  I imagine it much like a large boulder, slowly with little sound rolling forward, on whatever path it will.

When we want life to remain the same, it changes.  When we want life to change, it remains the same.  So it goes with people too.  

There are an endless number of changes happening continually that we are so much helpless to control.  Our challenge, our test is what we do with ourselves.  How we react.  How we govern ourselves.  We are agents that have the power to act and not to be acted upon.  

We can stop and lie wounded as victims on the wayside, allowing fear, anger, resentment, falsehoods, etc. to settle into our hearts.  Or we can accept the challenge with an awareness of what our true task is.

Death will take my mother earlier than I can prepare myself for.  On Tuesday of this week, my close friend lost her father to cancer.  She immediately flew to Mexico to be with her family.  It is hard for me to comprehend that I will someday soon be wearing a pair of shoes that are very much like the ones she now wears.

Everyday at work I see the distressed spouses of cancer patients.  It is very sobering.  However, it is also a great beauty to see them support their spouse through sickness, giving everything and not even knowing or being reassured that there fight and their efforts will be of any saving effect.  I see the fear in their eyes as sometimes their spouses sit on a very fine line between life and death.  They do all they can to maintain themselves, to maintain their strength, composure, and their courage.  The look in their eye and the quiver in their voice as they sometimes talk effects me the very most.

I know that sometimes that same quiver is in my voice when I speak.  For now, they are fears and emotions that I keep reserved internally.  I expect that one day they will escape in all their fury and glory.  We will see what life is like then.  How it changes for my family.  How it will change for each sibling and how it will be changed for my father.  How will we handle the most significant person in our lives leaving from our realms of experience?

No matter how great the loss.  No matter how true and deep our love be for a person.  If they leave voluntarily.  If they leave involuntarily.  We must continue on.  Knowing that in our life will be placed other people to love.  Maybe we doubt that we will not love them as much as we loved the persons prior.  Or that the love of the persons in the future will be as sweet as those that came before.  Maybe that will be true.  But we take our lot and we make the most of it.

Life will not wait until we are ready for it to take my mother from this earth.  It will happen, we will be unprepared, unready, unhappy, but it will happen.  Life will still expect that we fulfill it's demands.  It will not stop and wait for us to recover before it asks us to continue walking our paths.  It will not ask us if we agree, or if we accept.  It is aloof from our cares.  It will do whatever it wants and we are only players in it's game.

When I was younger, my dad always said, "Learn how to play the game."  Ele tinha razão.

Hues of Grays

Just some free writing.  In its roughest draft.

Strength.  What constitutes strength.  So shallow a meaning to measure it with size and muscle.  Strength to me is resilience, courage, hope.  Courage is not the lack of fear, but the strength to confront and move ahead while facing the fear.  I humbly bow with all of my respect to the man who puts his face to the sunshine while seeing the stormy gray clouds scattered across the skyline.  

Life is hard.  Life includes pain.  He who runs from it or shuns it is weak.  Pain, discomfort, loneliness, to feel without, those are emotions equal to any other.  They are meant to be experienced.  They live, they will breathe and they will die, and other emotions will be born and will have a life span of their own.  The sweetness of life does not lie merely in the laughter, the smiles, the sunsets, the scent of flowers, the touch of a lover.  The sweetness is a recipe of dark shades of gray, brilliant hues of yellows and reds, pin pricks of pain, stomachs of butterflies.  To enjoy, to appreciate, to be humbled with gratitude we must experience the spectrum of experience and emotion.

Strength.  Is to overcome.  Strength is to repent.  Strength is to humble oneself and weep before your maker.  Strength is to give all of oneself until there is nothing left remaining to give.  Strength is to be true.  Strength is to walk blindly but accompanied by faith.

The melody of my life will be what I choose it to be.  Rich in sound created by service, love, dedication, and resilience.  My song will be a strong song.  It will be the most beautiful song, a song that will resonate through the eternities...

Mean Girls

What a fabulous end to a crummy day!  My face hurts from smiling so much.  I couldn't have asked for more.  Heavenly Father surely wants His children to be happy and has handfuls and handfuls of sweet blessings to bestow upon us when we do not seek to avoid our trials, but rather instead seek joy despite them.  Britt, if you read this, you are the reason for my smile.  

Reverting to the events that transpired earlier in the day...

Today I was again surprised, like I am always surprised when I observe how I react to being treated poorly by those that I care about.  I was never a part of the mean girls (I assume that you will know what I'm talking about thanks to the recent film, Mean Girls).  Through the years, I have associated with them, sometimes was even close enough to be considered a friend of mean girls and reciprocated their friendship.  I don't comprehend their meanness.  I don't comprehend the desire to exclude and excel above others.  I don't understand ridicule and how it is fulfilling.  When it all gets down to it, I don't care if the Mean Girls want to create a barrier between themselves and me.  There are two principles that contradict each other.  I love unity.  I seek it.  I live for it.  I am passionate about it.  But on the other hand, there should be a division between the Mean Girls and I shouldn't there?  It seems so.  But then, what about unity and loving and erasing the lines that divide us?  That is ultimately what I long for??  Superficially, I do care, and it does hurt to be treated that way.  And I wonder, why does it affect me so?  

We are warned that as time progresses the opposition to The Church and its members will increase acutely.  So, I should not be surprised when I am who the opposition is against.  I am aware of this.  But... the question is, why does it hurt?  And why do I permit it to affect me?  My knowledge teaches me that I should be prepared for it, expect it, and gird my loins for when it happens.  

But the condition of the human soul?  My personality thrives on human interaction.  There are others who do not thrive as heartily on human interaction.  Regardless, all of us need it in some form or another.  Man was not created to be alone.  The Plan of Salvation was created for the purpose of allowing God's children (presently humans) to be bound and linked together throughout all eternity!  CRAZY!!!  The depth of our inherent need and fulfillment of being linked is far beyond my capacity to comprehend!!!  But I know that I love my neighbor (for the most part) and I want to be close to them.  I know that my soul does not react well when I see disharmony and dividing agents among us. 

Yes, it exists in me sometimes and I am guilty of those same harmful poisons.  I wish I were rid of them.  I think for this reason, I welcome constructive criticisms.  I am aware of my ignorance and my frequently blind eyes.  My desires are good but I am weak, proud, and human.  Sometimes I am the antagonist that I so adamantly  fight against.  And in turn, I harm another's soul.  What damage we do to one another on this earth.  Trying to mold, shape, carve, twist people into being what we think they should be.  We ourselves are already flawed and imperfect.  How do we pretend to create a better version of what they naturally are, than what God, a perfect creator has allowed them to be?  I am afraid that the person standing on the soap box is deaf to her own words all too often.

Which, brings us to REPENTANCE & FORGIVENESS.  Two things we are in constant quest of.  I must forgive those Mean Girls.  I must repent when my actions are maybe not as juvenile but very wrong nonetheless.  Only then can I hope to receive forgiveness from those that I offend.  Without forgiveness there could not exist unity.  Hmmm...  I retract my earlier statement.  There should be no division between the Mean Girls and myself.  I am a hypocrite in various ways which requires repentance.  I am pleased with the destination of my thoughts.  Sweet.  Now I can go to bed.  

aka Samantha Falcon

Don't ask me why I love that alias as much as I do.  Perhaps it is because it was created at a time in my life when I was pushing the limits, living on the "edge," and sneaking around.  haha  If my friends only knew what I considered the edge to be, they would laugh.  But, they of course already know that I am no James Dean, I am no true rebel.

Before I meander down a path that I had not intended on.  I will say that tonight I am doing some experimental writing.  Interested in knowing where my thoughts take me and what they reveal about me and how I have changed in this period of life.

I want to write about me.  About what I like, about what I want.

Mostly, I want to be happy.  Deep down inside I want to be loved, but I don't mind so much not having that kind of love that everyone dreams about just as long as I am able to love others.  We are masters of our own selves and we must allow others to be masters of their own selves as well.  There is no tragedy in that.  It is a privilege to love, to have people to love, and to feel the joy that comes from loving.  So long as I have people to love, I will find a way to be happy.  

I am reminded of a conversation I had with a very good friend a short time ago.  We were hiking in the mountains, autumn leaves, frost on the ground, crisp air in our lungs, everything that makes me love the fall season.  We were speaking of relationships and the necessity to accept yourself as an individual without having to be in a relationship and accepted by a significant other.  

Another conversation I had recently was with my uncle.  We were speaking about dependence and independence in relationships.  It seems today that far too many couples or hopeful couples try to remain independent without truly ever relying on the other.  A successful union requires that each contributor depend upon the other.  

To contrast, my aunt and uncle also talked to me about my uncle's struggle when my aunt decided to go back to school and contribute her own portion to the families income.  My uncle said, it was difficult for him to share that responsibility with his wife, when for so long, it was him who was the provider.  There is a fine balance between allowing someone to fly and maintaining a dependancy upon the other.  

We have to know what we want.  We need to know who we are.  We must be able to accept ourselves as individuals before we can successfully merge with another unique individual.  I think that perhaps people who marry at a young age have an advantage.  They have had less time to live independently and so therefore the merging of two individual lives is somewhat easier and without resistance.  The advantage of marrying at an older age is that one has had time to discover one's self and to know yourself as an individual more intimately than perhaps the younger folks do.  I myself, am glad for the time of preparation that I have been given.  I do not wish to rush in the hopes of accomplishing something sooner rather than later.  I am content with the detours that teach me valuable lessons.  

I would be happy to report to my friend that I walked with in the fall of my progress.  Surely, he would not be surprised.  He has seen firsthand the change that has transpired in my life and in my countenance.  

So in the end, I am happy loving.  I am grateful for my quirks that define me in a variety of ways.  I am happy to be an adult, qualified to make decisions with the help of my Heavenly Father, and continue on steadily and faithfully.  

My life is not as adventuresome as it has been in times past, nor deserves any second alias.  My temperament is certainly more constant.  These last months have been an intense time for character development, refinement, learning, and instruction.  But I am not bored... not as of yet.

My Fire

I heard this song today and I would say its a pretty good description of what I desire.  The song is sung by a male and so I assume myself to be the subject of the song who is being sung to.  Since I was old enough to recognize what even some of my dreams were, I realized that I wanted most someone who would accompany me and be by my side as I set out on the road to reach my dreams.  My dad tells me it is my duty to follow the patriarch of my home wherever he needs to go and that it is not my place to ask any man to follow me on the pursuit of my dreams.  I so far have not conceded to his opinion and believe that two people can share a desire to accomplish one another's dreams together.  In fact, I believe this in part is what makes a happy marriage.  For this reason I love this song.  I want to fly and for someone to fly with me...

"When You Come Back Down"

You got to leave me now, you got to go alone

You got to chase a dream, one that's all your own

Before it slips away

When you're flyin' high, take my heart along

I'll be the harmony to every lonely song

That you learn to play

When you're soarin' through the air

I'll be your solid ground

Take every chance you dare

I'll still be there

When you come back down

When you come back down

I'll keep lookin' up, awaitin' your return

My greatest fear will be that you will crash and burn

And I won't feel your fire

I'll be the other hand that always hold the line

Connectin' in between your sweet heart and mine

I'm strung out on that wire

And I'll be on the other end, To hear you when you call

Angel, you were born to fly, If you get too high

I'll catch you when you fall

I'll catch you when you fall

Your memory's the sunshine every new day brings

I know the sky is calling

Angel, let me help you with your wings

When you're soarin' through the air

I'll be your solid ground

Take every chance you dare

I'll still be there

When you come back down

Take every chance you dare,

I'll still be there

When you come back down

When you come back down

To Find Joy in Posterity

Tonight I came upon copies of the patriarchal blessings of my grandparents and parents. Amongst my familial files I also found my grandfather's obituary, the letter my grandmother wrote to the whole family before her passing, and some written histories. I read through the context of the documents and was reminded of something that I was trying to ponder just earlier today, to find joy in posterity. Most often when I try to grasp the concept, it elludes me and I don't know how it is possible to feel such a joy from posterity. I do not comprehend. But today while looking through these intimate family papers, I comprehended just a little more the joy that comes from posterity. And I am a part of my grandparents' and parents' posterity. And I find joy currently as a part of it, even though there are no links after me that bind me to any of my own posterity. My thoughts tonight are particularly tender as I am drawn to pay attention to my family ties. Reading my own patriarchal blessing, I am more able to feel a link with my future posterity and to feel apart of the chain. I look forward to setting and reaching goals with my future family. To teach them, to lead them, and to have fun and play with them. The documents that I read tonight serve as a guide and as encouragment to press on steady with my goals.

Flannel Plaid

And so I said, that I speak of love. And oh yes. Beautiful love that radiates from our hearts and from every fiber of our beings! What tremendous effect it has on us!

How does that effect change with each type of love, whether it be Eros, Philos, or Agape? The effects may be similar and some the same, but each type must have it's own unique effect over us. (I will explore that at a later date.)

I think about some of the types of love that I have experienced this last week alone. Some of the which, I wrote about in the previous post below. Another, which stands out is this...

I was out to dinner with a cherished friend. It was a low-key restaurant, super laid back atmosphere with a variety of patrons. It was my friend who first caught sight of this particular old man. The old man's hair was still thick and slightly curly. It was bright white. He wore a classic red/green flannel plaid shirt with a light jacket over and gray trousers. He was alone. My friend and I started to speak of this man that we immediately developed a liking for. His life must have a great story behind it if we had but asked. The more we paid attention to him, it was hard not to assume that this man was alone, alone without his life's companion. His trousers had a noticeable hole in one of the seams on the backside. It made me more aware that there was not a woman to pay attention to small details like these. My friend and I conversed a while more but it was not long until my eyes were welling up with tears and my friend noticed the familiar look in my eyes that meant I was on the edge of losing it. I obviously do not know this man, nor his circumstance. I only assumed what his life might be like. But for the few moments that I tried to comprehend what his situation in life might be like, I felt compassion for him and my heart ached for the pains that he must carry in his heart. I was overwhelmed with the loneliness that he feels. My friend and I started to laugh at my ease in crying in a restaurant over a stranger whose situation in life I really did not know. But, a few minutes later I was once again holding back tears as my thoughts of this man's loneliness persisted.

Our tender thoughts for this man caused us to think about the pains that Heavenly Father must bear when he sees his children going through painful circumstances. And he knows and comprehends perfectly the circumstance of each of his children. It is unimaginable to me the strength that Heavenly Father must possess. I was a weakling imagining the plight of just one of his children only.

Originally, I was intending on writing about the euphoria that we so often feel as we experience the difference types of love. Yes, love is accompanied by an interesting feeling that often washes over us and makes us feel that all is right in the world. But, sometimes with love, there is an accompaniment of not so sweet feelings -as we make an effort to bear one another's burdens, to lift them, to encourage them, to hold them when they need held, our hearts break with love instead of soaring.

And even in the sweet moments, like when I hold baby Jackson, the intensity of my thoughts and feelings are so strong, I am overwhelmed and for a moment I am paralyzed, trembling with and trying to control raw emotion. It is not something I necessarily look forward to. I am not well enough conditioned to bear such rich emotion except only in small amounts and for brief moments.

I am reminded of my first weeks when I first became a nanny. The parents were in Mexico on vacation and the new weight of caring for 3 special-needs children rested upon me heavily. So much so I found myself uncontrollably sobbing at the end of the first few nights when I finally found myself in the quiet. Except it wasn't quiet, my sobs echoed though the otherwise quiet and still house. The shear weight of the burden overwhelmed all of my senses. At the end of each busy day, finally after I managed to put all three children to bed (and managed to keep them there!) I was alone. I remember cleaning up the dishes and the rest of the kitchen, putting away the random assortment of naturopathic remedies that were stored throughout the house, picking up winter clothes off the floor and hanging them in the coat closet, letting the water out of the tub and mopping up the water that was all over the bathroom floor after bath time. I loved those little children. Despite their exaggerated conditions that sometimes made it more difficult to love them, I loved them and I felt the excruciating weight of being their caretaker and temporary sole provider of all their physical, emotional, spiritual, and social needs. It was more than I had anticipated. I didn't know how I was going to survive the 14 days by myself when each day by itself was a battle of its own. But... I did! And I learned to do it well even. For 3 years, I did. And I developed the strength I needed to bear those burdens as I worked in that special home. It is interesting to note the different effects that love has upon us. One of my greatest accomplishments is what was done while I worked inside that home and loved that family as I did, but the feelings I experienced were far from euphoria.

So love? It transcends all. It supersedes every law of the universe. It invigorates. It lifts one up. It brings us to our knees. It makes us deliriously happy. It does a myriad of things. Its intense. Its gentle. The more I ponder it, the less simple it becomes. As for now, I understand that love is a teacher of all things. I am still learning...

The Things Which We Hold On To

I held a baby today. I have never been one to swoon over babies. But this baby is my very good friend Joseph's baby. Which puts this baby in a league of its own. Joseph and his wife are two of the most Christ-like people I know, and I cannot imagine how tremendously special their baby must be. It is evident just by looking at his celestial face. Jackson was born the first weekend in October over General Conference weekend, and today was the first time I held him. All the previous times that I was asked if I wanted to hold him, I declined because I knew I would cry and of course I did not want to cry. He is such a precious baby and his specialness exudes him. I held him today finally, I thought I was finally ready, but still it was not without watery eyes. When I hold him, or touch his cheek, or his tiny fingers, its as if there is an electrical current passing from him to me, which instantaneously makes me aware of his divine nature. All babies by nature are special. But there is something extraordinarily great in Jackson Paul Sybrowsky, just like in his mom and dad.

What relevance to my life do babies have this particular day? There is a great web weaved in my mind as hundreds of thoughts sew themselves together and contribute to the feelings that I experience today.

On March 12 of this year, it will have been four years since I first entered the temple to receive my endowment. Today, was the first time that I have ever participated in the initiatory work since having done my own. The promises of the Lord humble me and infuse my spirit with light.

Also, I visited with a sister in Relief Society that I did not know up until today. My favorite part of our conversation was when we spoke of young children. I observed this girl and who throughout the rest of the introductory conversation remained reserved, when she started to speak of the small children involved in gymnastics that she coaches, her countenance lit up and a smile was spread across her face for the duration of the subject and she spoke excitedly. I liked to see her love for the little children.

Listening to her I was reminded of my new small friends whom I have an unusual admiration for. I dare say that I love these little girls. I am reminded of them each day while I am at work because on my desk there somehow appeared a small green squishy stretchy toy snake. Which is exactly what my small friends and I were hunting for when I was with them last. It is humorous to me that I keep this old worn toy sitting atop some more serious desk matter. But I keep it there of course to serve as a reminder of my special little friends who have found their way into their own corner of my heart.

The common thread of my thoughts is the principle of love.

To Be Continued...

Written in Time

Memories.  Why do I love them so much and why do I treat them as if they were worth more than gold?  I think memories are a sweet blessing given by Father in Heaven.  He knows that not all of our days will be equally bright.  And although those darker days have their purpose, I believe our Father is good, merciful, and kind enough to bless us with little rays of sunshine to lift our spirits both on dark and bright days.  

One of my favorite quotes speaks about not looking past the present joys.  What wonderful counsel!  It motivates me and excites me, because as it was said by an apostle of the Lord, it is also a testimony to me that there are always present joys to be savored.  And thats part of what makes memories so sweet I think, is because in the moment that they are made, we have to be alert enough to recognize them and store them in our bank of cherished moments.  Whether they are moments made of laughs and the sweetness that comes from two souls heartily laughing together and being connected in that moment, whether they are moments made of tears falling down cheeks and the tenderness that comes from two spirits being raw enough to reveal themselves honestly, whether they are moments made of victory and the satisfaction that comes from accomplishing a feat together as a team, or whether they are moments of solitude where the only communication that exists is between you and the Spirit, or you and Heavenly Father.  

The miracle of the human brain is incredible.  The complexity and depth of its capabilities is all too... perfect.  And to imagine that so much of its capabilities are in hibernation and how we will only know them after this sphere.. nuts I say!  My eyes brighten as I imagine the reality of an even greater day when we will have greater usage of our minds.  And then imagine the depth and scope of our memories.  What then will they be like?  

It is hard to think of memories and not be overwhelmed with the goodness of Heavenly Father.  Even the minute details of this earth life he has orchestrated in our behalf and for our enjoyment.  Just like the beauty of Earth was created for us, in much the same way and same purpose, I think memories were made available to us.  And surely as I delight in the beauty of this earth, I delight in the beauty of memories.  Yes, even the sad ones.  Maybe there is a greater worth in the sad ones, because it allows us to be reminded of where we once have been and where the Lord has been good enough to allow us to come.  Many of my tears lately have been tears of gratitude as I am reminded of older days and the blessing to make my future days whatever I would have of them.  For change.  And what worth would change have if we could not remember the previous days without an acknowledgment of that change?  Yes, there is a purpose in memories.  If we regard them correctly, they lead us to become more like Christ-inspiring, motivating, encouraging, humbling, and teaching us.  I am grateful for such memories and for the awareness of knowing that I should be grateful for them, deeply grateful.