Involve Me and I Learn

My family might laugh to hear me say it, but I was painfully shy and socially awkward for years. I had a few close friends from church, and I was always brave at raising my hand to give my opinion or answer a question in classroom settings, but when it came to making friends, I just wasn't good at it. I have a very distinct memory of asking a few kids if I could play unicorns with them at recess, and having them say no...probably the social low point of my life.

I certainly don't blame the kids around me - I was a chubby, precocious teacher's pet. I reveled in being right and being smart and I took life way too seriously (a trait that has stuck with me into adulthood). For years, I was happiest grabbing a book and sitting outside my teachers' doors until they would let me back into the sanctuary of the classroom.

Then came my 6th grade play. I hadn't even auditioned for my 5th grade play - auditioning for something would require putting myself out there and taking a non academic risk, which just seemed ridiculous. But watching that play from the sidelines had dazzled me. I loved the music, the lights, the staging, the glamour. I loved it enough to take a risk and audition for the 6th grade production of Oliver. During my audition, I remember my teachers looking at each other and smiling, and when I finished, one of them said, "Well, I guess it runs in the family." (My older sister had been a lead in the 6th grade production the year before.) And they gave me the lead female role of Nancy.

I'm a decent singer, but I'm not amazing. I can sort of act, but it's best to keep me in the sidelines. I'm a passable dancer, but you'd never put me on the front row. I could tell you about the years of auditioning for every school play, community theater and choir opportunity I could find. I could tell you how there is no place I feel happier than when I'm on stage - I come alive. I glow. I love every second of it. But that's really not the point.

The point is that I had a group of teachers who believed in me. They saw potential in a socially awkward girl who felt like she didn't fit in anywhere and gave her a chance. And in doing that, they unlocked an understanding that taking risks can lead to great things. I trace my love of public speaking, singing, laughing loudly and my tendency to talk too much back to that moment in my childhood.

I haven't made 90% of the shows that I've auditioned for, but I keep auditioning. I've gone through periods where I've had to apply for hundreds of jobs just to get an interview, but I keep applying. I had my heart broken more times that I can keep track of, but I knew that it was worth it to keep putting it out there. In short, I didn't make it on Broadway, but I found my voice.

"Tell me, and I forget.
Teach me, and I remember.
Involve me, and I learn."

A shout out to all the teachers out there trying to make a difference in the lives of your students. You really do.

Fill Your Soul With Hope

I’ll never forget the day my parents told us that my mom had cancer. I remember where I was sitting, my father’s face, and the advice he gave us about how we all needed to just continue living – that mom’s cancer was just a part of our lives, but that it didn’t mean we should stop living all the other parts as well.

Even more, I remember the day they told us they were stopping treatments. In the age before cell phones, I would use the office phone at lunchtime on days when mom had doctor’s appointments to ask how it had gone, how her numbers looked, did we think the most recent round of chemo was working, etc. When I called that day, dad said, “Well sweetheart, let’s just talk when you get home from school.” A friend found me in the hallway right outside the office and held me as I cried. After she passed away, Emily and I would rush out to the car at lunch time, drive the 10 minutes home, eat for 10 minutes, and drive the 10 minutes back to school just to spend a few minutes. Catherine and dad would alternate getting food ready for us. It probably wasn’t every day, but I remember it like it was a ritual.

You never really get over the loss of a close loved one. My husband has commented several times that I mark time in my life as “BC” and “AC” – “before cancer” and “after cancer”. “I must have been young, because it was before mom got sick.” “Mom had lost her hair, but she was still feeling good, so I must have been about 14.” “I know it was at least a year after mom’s funeral, but before I started college.” Mom is never far from my mind. My late teens was a hard, but also happy time for me – my dad, my sister Emily and I did our best to deal with the dark heaviness that comes with a great loss, and to this day I probably feel a more-than-is-strictly-normal connection with both of them from that time.

Cancer has touched so many in my family, either through a full-out battle with a diagnosis, or increased odds through genetics. Eventually my dad remarried an amazing woman whose husband had died of cancer. (Their daughter was going through cancer at the same time.) Only a few short months after their wedding, another of my stepsisters was diagnosed with cancer. She battled fiercely for 4.5 years and, in a similar fashion to my mom, I will never forget when she went off her chemo treatments. I miss her dearly, and one of the great injustices in this world is that I think my husband would have gotten along with her famously. I won’t name names, as their lives are personal and their own, but suffice it to say, cancer runs in the family through many people.

I think my father’s remarriage is an incredible story. Over 40 years ago, my parents moved into a house in Orem, UT. Within a very short amount of time, my mom and Sandra (the woman who would eventually become my stepmother) were put into a presidency for our church together and became fast friends. Their husbands met and also became the best of friends – for years, they would do double dates and combined family functions. My eventual stepmother was the first person besides my parents to hold me in the hospital. Sandra’s husband got cancer a year or two into my mom’s cancer fight. It’s truly one of the greatest manifestations of God’s love in my life. I don’t think God gave Larry and mom cancer, but I think He knew and helped prepare the way for joy to follow sorrow. Sandra has enhanced my life in so many ways. She brought joy and life back to my father. She has loved my nieces and nephews. She fell in love with my husband after our first date, and was one of his biggest champions while I navigated my fear of loving again. She is bright and joyful and funny and kind. I understand so well why she was one of my mother’s dearest friends.

And I will never forget as my parents sat across from me a few weeks back to let us know that my stepmom is now facing the same cancer that took my first mother. It feels like a very unfair form of déjà vu. Life is full of moments that feel like everything pivots, and this is one of those moments. I won’t attempt to describe my feelings – they are lengthy, unknown to even myself, and ultimately not relevant to why I sat down to write this. I feel such a gut punch right now, but I also just needed to express to the universe that there can be joy and peace amid turmoil and pain. “It's funny how, when things seem the darkest, moments of beauty present themselves in the most unexpected places.” Spencer and I had planned a trip to Disneyland this last weekend (months ago, to escape some other hard things that we have been carrying – hilarious) and were considering cancelling it in view of everything going on. Sandra and dad told us in no uncertain terms to go. That we had to create moments of joy and laughter and lightness – to keep living.

“Choose to focus on those things that fill your soul with hope.” Dieter Uchtdorf.

Spoons

“Spoons” is an analogy that has been adopted by the vast community of people dealing with chronic illness. The story goes that a woman was trying to explain to her friend what it was like to be constantly sick. She grabbed all of the spoons on their table and the tables around her, handed them to her friend, and told her that the spoon represented her capacity to do something. Each decision she made throughout the day had the potential to take away a spoon. Cooking, cleaning, working, etc…each thing took a “spoon” away from her, and when she ran out of spoons, she was simply out of spoons. Some days she started with more, some days she started with less. And each day she had to decide how to use the spoons she had.

There are some things I like about this analogy and some things I don’t. A close friend went to a support group when she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and decided that her life was not going to be dictated by her disease. My dad used to tell us that we felt sick because we were acting sick, and that if we acted like we felt better, we would. I believe in the power of thinking positively and how, even when we don’t feel good, things still need to get done and life must go on no matter what. I also know that my own personal struggle with pain is nothing compared to the struggles other experience. In spite of all of that, I wanted to share some of my thoughts.

Since a few months before grad school started, I have been experiencing pain in my TMJ muscle (aka jaw). This is generally accepted to be the result of stress, grinding your teeth, bad posture, etc. A large number of people struggle with it and mine comes and goes. Sometimes it’s just a minor irritation that only shows its face when I’ve over exerted myself; sometimes it’s omnipresent and impacting every second of my day. This is one of those times.

TMJ pain starts in my shoulder blades and ends with my headaches. It makes every muscle in the upper half of my body tight and sore. The muscles that connect my shoulders with my head literally radiate pain when I’m having a flair up. With TMJ, it hurts to smile. And laugh. And sing. And talk. And eat. And look interested in what someone else is saying. And to sit. Or stand. Or lay down. You can find at least a hundred home remedies for TMJ problems through online blogs, books and professional help. I have about 20 exercises I do daily, a huge foam roller I use for my back, a mouth guard for sleeping, a back brace I wear about an hour a day for my posture, I ask Spencer to rub my neck as hard as he can (sometimes multiple times a night), and I get acupuncture. I don’t chew gum, bite into apples, eat bagels or gummy candy, or rest my chin on anything. I don’t remember how my tongue used to rest in my mouth, because I’m constantly readjusting it to make sure I’m not pushing it against my teeth. Trying to alleviate the pain, or at least not aggravate it, takes over my life a few times a year and is a constant presence in my day to day.

I recently tried a new kind of acupuncture – instead of just sticking in the needles, they stick in the needles and then send electric shocks through the needles into your muscles. It was painful, and I wasn’t sure that my tensing muscles at the pulsing electricity weren’t doing more damage than the needles were doing good. Before we got started, the doctor said, “I’m pretty sure I know, but I’m required to ask; what’s your goal for this treatment?” Somewhat jokingly, I said, “That my jaw will stop driving me crazy by clicking constantly in my ear every time I move it.” And then, more seriously, “And that I won’t sit on the edge of my bed and cry at the thought of leaving the house and having to use my face to communicate with people.” I get so tired of not being able to enjoy things, of being in constant pain, of praying for conversations to end so I can relax my face, of not singing along to the radio…anyway, I could go on.

I wish I had more spoons. But I guess, don’t we all? We all have our struggles and our things that take up more of our capacity than we’d like. Whether it’s physical pain, emotional pain, mental incapacitation, demands on our time (including positive, happy demands), taxing jobs or callings, relationship struggles, loneliness, pregnancy, and on and on. The demands of mortality often take more spoons than we have. I look back on some of the incredibly dark, painful times and I wonder how on earth I survived it without completely losing my mind, but I did. Somehow, strength beyond my own kicked in and I made it. I think I don’t often realize how much extra help I’m getting – I feel as though I have reached the end of my rope and it’s only by sheer will power that I carry on. But how much of that is me actually being carried and I don’t even know how much of the weight is being shouldered for me? I once told my dad that I didn’t like wearing my mouth guard because I didn’t notice a difference. He said that I couldn’t know that, because I wouldn’t know how much worse it would be if I wasn’t wearing it. I’m so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who gives me more strength than I have the ability to recognize. Who listens to my repeated pleas for relief, knowing that he has already begun to grant it to me, but who doesn’t reprimand me for continuing to ask. And who shows me the way to find joy in the journey, even when resolution is far in the future. 

      He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
      He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
      To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
      To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

      When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
      When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
      When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
      Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

      Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
      Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
      Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
      The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

      His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
      His power no boundary known unto men;
      For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
      He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

All The Wisdom Experience Can Instill

I love taking pictures. I love capturing people, feelings, moments, thoughts and memories. I feel like pictures take me back to where I was, remind me of things that I’ve forgotten, and tell stories that would be impossible to communicate otherwise. Obviously there are pictures that are more significant than others – I take a picture of my pedometer every day...those pictures probably aren’t significant in the grand scheme of things. As I’ve been reflecting back on 2017 though, I wanted to tell a story with the pictures that mean something to me.

I took this photo on New Years. I was heartbroken, terrified about the future, uncertain of what I was doing, and freezing to death. Celebrating with friends at Top Golf as 2016 counted down, I ran into the bathroom to hide. As I looked into the mirror, I distinctly remember thinking to myself in a quiet voice, "...I look pretty." It was such a simple thing, but it was the boost I needed to keep going. I decided to take a "bathroom selfie" to remind myself that feeling my lowest doesn't diminish my worth. And that 2017 was going to be better. It was going to bring flowers. Because I had spent 2016 planting flowers.

I spent a good portion of the new year praying that I could feel confident in what I was capable of - praying that I would have the guts to do what I knew would be necessary over the coming months. As per usual, God came through in spectacular fashion. I was asked to speak at an event based on the TED talks about how hard things end up shaping us more than any easy part of life possibly could. A good friend flew out to watch, and I was reminded of how amazing my life has been.

On the way to my nephew's graduation, I grabbed a fortune cookie. Turned out to be prophetic, as I was offered my amazing job at Larry H Miller Sports and Entertainment shortly after I took this picture! My job is a huge blessing in my life - I love what I do, who I work for and the people around me. 

I decided to go back to grad school because I felt stagnant in my life - I felt like I wasn't really progressing, and grad school sounded hard. Well . . . turns out that it was! Hard in ways I anticipated, and in so many ways I didn't. I felt like I had every weak part of me laid open for the world to see. Graduation was such a happy, beautiful way to commemorate everything I went through and learned. Mom and dad flew out, and I took this selfie as we were headed to the ceremony. It ended up being very significant in my life, because it's the picture I chose to load into the Mutual dating app . . . 

5 years ago, I was serving as Relief Society president in my ward and desperately lonely. In exactly the child-like way you're envisioning, I asked God if he would please send me some friends. The ladies in this picture were literally an answer to that prayer. One of them met me, and the thought immediately came into her mind, "The Relief Society president needs a friend." As per my previous posts, my 31 birthday was filled with trepidation and sadness, but these ladies threw me the perfect birthday party, full of my favorite things. It was the perfect way to calm me down and get me focused back on how lovely life can be.

Because mountains. And hiking. And pretty.

This man. Geez. I don't even know how to describe how perfect he is for me. We went to the Lantern Festival together. On his, he wrote, "I've never been happier. I love Amy." I was so terrified to tell him that I loved him, even though I knew I did. As the music played and the lanterns were rising into the air, he pulled me into his arms and told me he loved me. It was the most perfect moment I've ever experienced. I kissed him, and as I started to pull away to tell him that I loved him too . . . a lit lantern came crashing into his head. From a few feet away, someone yelled, "Sorry!" amd we dissolved into laughter. It only took me another 2 weeks to work my courage back up to tell him what I felt. :)

The contrast between the end of 2016 and the end of 2017 is so stark, it almost feels fake to me. From Arizona to Utah, from heartbroken to engaged, from student to career, from anxiety to peace. I have no delusions that any of the amazing things that happened this year were brought about by me: sometimes life hands you something lovely, and I just happened to get caught in the cosmic cross hairs of goodness. But I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I was in the right place at the right time. A huge thank you to my cheering squad, my amazing family and friends, who incredibly never seem to lose faith in the future. "Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us." May your days be merry and bright, dear ones.

One Plus One Equals Both

“Hi Amy! You have a really nice smile. :)”

I received that message from a guy with gorgeous blue eyes late in the evening on July 5^th. He asked for my number on July 9^th, took me on a date July 10^th, on a second date July 11^th, and the rest, as it turns out, is history.

Three weeks before that, I wrote a blog post about turning 31, how hard it was, how difficult it was to hold onto hope, and that it was exhausting to continue watching the people around me land their “25 inch trout” while my constant reeling wasn’t yielding results.

Spencer Hunter is the youngest of 2, with a married sister. We share a deep love of books, movies and music – he has a voice that makes me weak at the knees. He’s very intelligent, a hard worker, and ambitious. He brings out my silly side, but we have equally as many intellectual conversations as ridiculous. He’s patient and isn’t afraid of facing hard things in life. He has a spectacular family, who have accepted me without question. More than anything, he’s the kindest human being I’ve ever known. He makes me happy, calms me down, and lifts me up.

Our initial messaging conversation was full of movie quotes, debates about our favorite books, excitement over upcoming movies, and a healthy dose of hope. The weeks after we started dating felt happy and overwhelming to me.  My long, painful dating history made me wary and nervous about any guy who showed enthusiasm for me, and I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, while at the same time enjoying every second of getting to know this incredible man. The night he told me he loved me for the first time, I simply responded with, “I know.” He has been so patient, so loving, so encouraging as he waited for my insecurities to fall away. Our relationship has been shockingly easy, but real. We are different in ways that compliment each other and similar in ways that make it simple. 

 

Two weeks ago, he told me that if I “wanted to dress nice on Wednesday, that would fun.” As in so many things, he knew me well enough to know that I’d want a heads up that something special was going down. When he picked me up, he handed me a flower and told me that the theme of the evening was “Just go with me.” On my seat in the car was another flower, a jewelry box, and a card.  Spencer is incredibly gifted with his words, and he had written me a beautiful poem – at the end of each stanza was a question. The first question he asked me was, “Beloved, will you go with me?” and inside the jewelry box was a luggage lock.

We drove to downtown Salt Lake and walked around temple square. As we got to the reflecting pool, there was another card, another jewelry box, and more flowers. The second stanza ended with the question, “Beloved, will you build with me?” Inside the box was a house key. (Apparently his dad was standing guard nearby, but I was a little distracted and didn’t notice.)

From there we went to the Roof Restaurant, where the last stanza of the poem, jewelry box and roses were waiting. The final question he wrote was, “Beloved, will you create with me?” and inside the box was a pacifier. (And yes, I was sobbing by this point.) Dinner was spectacular – we sampled every single dessert they had. When it was over, he grabbed my hand, said again, “Just go with me.” And we walked back to the car.

He told me to put on some music, as we had a bit of a drive ahead of us. I threw on the playlist of my favorite love songs, and we listened, sang and mostly just grinned at each other. As we were pulling off the freeway, our love song came on (totally not planned). It’s a country song that I first heard a few weeks after we started dating, and the first time I heard it, I started crying because it so perfectly captured what I was feeling, fearing, and hoping.

You say what if I hurt you, what if I leave you?

What if I find somebody else and I don't need you?

What if this goes south, what if I mess you up?

You say what if I break your heart in two then what.

Well I hear you girl, I feel you girl but not so fast,

Before you make your mind up I gotta ask:

What if I was made for you and you were made for me?

What if this is it, what if it's meant to be?

What if I ain't one of them fools just playin' some game?

What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in,

And the stars line up and it's our last first kiss?

What if one of these days baby I'd go and change your name?

What if I loved all these what ifs away?

After the song finished, he switched the music over to his phone to play me a song. He’s mentioned several times that he had a favorite love song, but has never told me what it is, nor let me listen to it. Don McLean came over the radio, singing, “And I love you so / The people ask me how / How I’ve lived till now / I say that I don’t know.” Just as the Timpanogos temple pulled into sight, the strains of “Peace Like a River” flowed through the car, and we both started crying. He walked me to the front of the temple, asked if I would go with him, if I would build with him, if I would create with him, if I would marry him.

Yes. Every day, yes. 

My 25 Inch Trout

I've driven from Phoenix to Pleasant Grove twice recently. 10 days ago in a moving truck with all of my worldly possessions, and yesterday in my 215,000 mileage car. In preparation for the second trip, I took my car to my mechanic and told him to fix anything he thought might break on it. $1300 later, he and I both felt good about making the journey. After the events of last summer, I have been extremely paranoid about getting stranded with my car broken down, especially since there are stretches during the drive when I don't have cell service. So when my check engine light came on during one of those stretches, I took a few minutes to rail at God. Because that's always productive. Frequently, in spite of doing all that I am capable of, life doesn't go like I plan.

Today I was in a lesson at church led by my parent's stake president. He started by telling a story from his past week - he had just returned from his dream vacation of fly fishing in Alaska. He has been fly fishing for years, and his one dream from this trip was to catch a 25 inch trout. The day arrived that they were going to the location where he was mostly likely to catch one of these huge fish - the Gibraltar River. All day the people around him caught fish after fish, and eventually each member of their group had one of the coveted 25+ inch trout, including an 11 year old boy who had never been fishing before. Everyone it is, except him. He, the most experienced fisher in the group, barely caught anything at all, and certainly nothing near the size he had hoped for. He was frustrated and disappointed and decided he would rather have not gone on that trip. He too expressed that life frequently doesn't go like he plans, and that it can be hard to deal with the consequences that arise. He then asked if anyone had any Gibraltar River experiences. I raised my hand.

I turn 31 in a week. Kind of an unremarkable birthday to most of the world, but in my world it means that I'm too old to attend the Young Single Adult congregation at church. The YSA program has been the source of most of my social life for the past 12 years, providing friends, entertainment, opportunity, spiritual growth and protection. Oh yeah - and pretty much every boyfriend I've ever had. It won't be a surprise to anyone reading this but just for the record: I want to be married. And not just married for the sake of it, but married to someone where there is mutual respect, someone who is kind and intelligent, someone who is willing to face uncertainty and work everyday to make a happy life together. I'm not overly dramatic about it - I know that I'm young and have so much life ahead of me. But I also do analytics for a living. And I know that the older I get, the worse my odds get. So while there is a whole new life awaiting me on the other side of 31, this birthday has felt like the end of hope in some respects.
So I raised my hand, said that I was unmarried and turning 31 on Saturday. That people were landing "fish" all around me and had been for years. That in spite of my having, what I consider, fantastic technique and great experience, the fish keep swimming past my bait. (Ok, you can definitely push this analogy to an uncomfortable level.) And that yesterday while I was crying and yelling at my windshield, the words that came into my head were, "Don't you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead."

President Osguthorpe came in the middle of the class, sat next to me, pulled out his phone, and showed me a picture of himself holding a 27 inch trout. He caught it the next day. "Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right, then it is not yet the end." And I believe that.

He Lives

I attended an Easter fireside this morning. One of the speakers spoke of losing his daughter several years ago. They were on a walk with his other children, and she darted in front of a car. He talked about doing CPR on her tiny 4 year old body, and praying with all his might that she would be saved. Later that day, his wife gave birth to their fourth child. In his own words, "I have never been closer to both heaven and hell."

He also spoke of Christ, more specifically, Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem. A huge number of people gathered to see him through the streets. They laid their clothes in front of his path, they sang Hosannas, they waved palm fronds. However, many in the crowd were not cheering him on because they thought he was the Savior of the world. They thought he was the one who would save them from Roman rule. The expectation was that he would go through the streets straight to the seat of government and overthrow it. Instead, he turned left and went to the temple. Among this congregation, those who joyously sang his praises, would days later demand his death.

Many times, we face unmet expectations. We see clearly the path that we want the Lord to take on our behalf, but he instead turns left. We stand there, hearts broken, disappointed and unsure, begging the Lord to please explain what just happened. Why did you turn left?? I have been standing here, waving my palm frond for a long time, waiting for you to come. Turning right would have saved me from my pain, from my discomfort, from my uncertainty. Turning right would have given me what I want most. At that point, we have the choice. Will we continue to sing his praise, or will we walk away?

This Easter season, I simply want to say that I believe. I believe in him. I believe in his ways. I believe in his power in our lives through the Atonement. I believe that his way is higher than mine, and that eventually, as we allow him into our lives, all of the "lefts" will be made right.

Happy Easter, dear ones.

You Can Have Something Better

Ever get an ominous feeling about the future?

Breakdown of my current situation. I could give you a very monotonous rundown of everything I have to accomplish in the next 7 days, but suffice it to say my goals at this point are all around surviving. I graduate in 7 weeks. My lease is up in 2 months. I turn 31 in 3 months, which isn’t significant in any other culture, but in Mormon culture means that I’m too old to attend the singles program at church. (I’m single by choice . . . just not my choice.) I don’t have a job yet, nor do I even know which state I will end up in. I feel like I’m out to sea in uncertainty desperately paddling in a circle, creating a whirlpool that’s sucking the boat out from underneath me.

I recently had two amazing opportunities present themselves to me. Sometimes it feels like God or the universe (depending on what you believe) is pointing you in a specific direction and telling you to believe in a specific opportunity. That’s how I felt! I was certain they were two distinct answers to my prayers – that I had been led to this point because this was what was meant to happen. Yesterday I discovered that wasn’t the case – that both of these “miracles” in my life were actually dead ends. And instead of finding the direction I’ve been desperately seeking, I found myself feeling foolish. Foolish for believing. For hoping. For trying.

Ultimately, yet again life is turning to a different course than I wanted. There is a lesson that I am learning the hard way, but it’s important: as long as I continue to do my best, God will lead me to where I’m supposed to be. It sometimes requires doors slamming shut, false starts and heading down the wrong road. Sometimes you have to head down a path simply because it’s the fastest way to discover that’s not the right path for you to take. But these false starts and dead ends can bring new strengths, new lessons, and new opportunities. “A new calling beckons us away from comfortable routines wherein the needed competencies have already been developed.”

Have faith in the process. It will all work out. Doesn’t mean that I’ll get the killer job. Doesn’t mean I’ll meet the Mormon version of Matt Damon. Doesn’t mean that I won’t get cancer or that my hair will always look great or that people will always be nice. It means just that – it will all work out.

Daring Greatly

I’ve been trying to go to sleep for the past two hours, but this demands to be written, so I’m relenting in the hopes that my brain will shut off.

Miranda Hart wrote an inspiringly hilarious book called “Is It Just Me” where she chronicles years of awkward moments, bad jobs and sticking her foot in her mouth on her journey to achieving something she didn’t quite dare even dream: becoming a comedian. She gives amazing perspective on things like manicures (“basically just holding hands with a stranger for forty-five minutes whilst listening to Enya”), Christmas (“Each year, from at least November, well, September, well, if I'm honest, May, I look forward to it hugely”) and the pressures of being a woman (“You may look at me and see a slightly frayed, wool-clad woman with an inexplicably hefty rucksack, but I look in the mirror and simply give thanks for all I've opted out of”). She also talks about the importance of remembering to dream. To dream big. To reach for the stars, take risks, and keep believing in yourself. In her words, “…holding onto the bonkers dream might just turn out to be the most marvelous thing you ever did.”

As most of you readers know, I recently went through another heartbreak. While that might seem unremarkable in the larger scale of things, to me heartbreak tends to feel like an atomic bomb in my life. My initial reaction was simply that this isn’t worth it. It hurts too badly, and I don’t want to feel it anymore. Inevitably of course, I start to come around because in the end I really do WANT to find someone. I’m a hopeless romantic. And I need someone to call my cell phone when I can’t find it.

I recently spent some time with a good friend. He and I tried dating, and it didn’t work, but we are the best of friends now. He gets me. He knows me. He thinks that I’m fantastic. He is one of my greatest cheerleaders. As I left dinner with him a few weeks back, I had the thought, “If I can end up with someone who views me and treats me the way he does, all of this pain will have been worth it.”

And that’s the beauty of risk, isn’t it? That risk, in the end, can pay off! We start businesses, we quit our jobs, we move to New York for the stage, we participate in clinical trials, we start a new diet, we love again and again because the potential payoff is worth the potential setback. But . . . what if there is no payoff? Businesses fail. We end up in dead-end jobs. People take medication, do therapy, change their diet and don't feel better. Is beauty only found in success?

I have a new goal. To be grateful for the moments when I feel like I failed. Because it means that I tried. To stop feeling like every dead end means that I screwed something up, that I missed the road to fantastic glory. I want to be happy for the experiences that I’ve had, not because they are preparing me to be successful in the future, but because I had the experience. Because the experience of fighting for it, of risking for it, will be what defines me rather than the end result.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” Theodore Roosevelt

Lean Forward to the Next Crazy Venture Beneath the Skies

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved and happy to be leaving 2016 behind me. Like so many other people, there were just hard things going down all year for me. However, I keep a small leather journal in my purse to write down my thoughts and impressions and things that people say, and as I reviewed everything I wrote this year, I realized that it has also been a year of incredible growth. So, here is my list of 17 things I’ve learned that I want to carry forward into 2017.

      1. Top Golf in Houston in July is too hot.

      2. Top Golf in Salt Lake City in December is too cold.

      3. Choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong.

      4. When in doubt, hope. Against hope, believe in hope.

      5. Love everyone. Choose God.

      6. Don’t be fearful of the divine experience. Don’t be afraid to suffer. To weep. To run the risk that some days will be painful and long. While you are in the struggle, remember the importance of the suffering. This gospel is a gospel of happy endings.

      7. The sun will rise. It always rises.

      8. “I tremble to think what we would have lost if we had taken counsel from our fears.”

      9. There is something divine in the process of working hard to master something.

      10. Who I have become is not an accident.

      11. Keep staring at the marshmallow – it is worth it! (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_marshmallow_experiment)

      12. Start with the desire to have the desire to do it.

      13. Being sincerely kind is more important than being authentic.

      14. The Atonement gives my faith validity.

      15. “This isn’t it. You can’t stay here.” The Lord will get me where I’m meant to be, even if I’m afraid to let go of my current circumstances because I might not have better.

      16. “Embrace the suck. Stick it out. There’s too much riding on it.”

      17. There is no situation where there is no solution for God. At the Red Sea, there appeared to be no solution.

“God, there’s a sea in front of me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But God, there’s an army behind me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Happy 2017, dear reader! Remember that “to reach a goal you have never before attained, you must do things you have never before done.” Can’t wait to see what the new year will hold.

Bah, Humbug

Christmas is my favorite time of year. The lights, the music, the family, the food - it has never lost its magic. The one thing that's hard about Christmas for me is being alone. And with the end of the latest in what feels like a never-ending string of failed relationships, I find myself newly single for the holidays. So tonight while my family walked through an elaborate display of lights, music and smells, I'm somewhat embarrassed to confess that I found myself distracted with the all-too familiar feeling of heartache and loneliness and longing. And let's be honest - an unhealthy dose of feeling sorry for myself.  

Eventually we turned from the brightly colored lights into a display full of soft, glowing luminaries. They called the area "Light of the World" and there were a dozen statues portraying events in Christ's life. Giving sight to the blind, teaching, showing forgiveness and kindness to all. As I wandered through the path depicting beautiful moments of clarity and love from our Savior, I was overwhelmed with a different feeling. Peace. Howard W. Hunter said, "The real Christmas comes to him who has taken Christ into his life as a moving, dynamic, vitalizing force."

Like Ebeneezer Scrooge, the Grinch and so many who have come before me, I have been considering Christmas in the wrong way. It's not about holding hands while you walk through lights. It's not about having the coolest picture to post on social media. It's not about having someone to make elaborate holidays plans with. Christmas is about Christ. It's about love and peace, generosity and kindness. It's about looking outside of my own selfish world and seeing how I can lift the load of those around me. 

The final sculpture in the garden is a depiction of Christ walking on the water. Back then, he said, "Peace, be still." He still says that today, as we experience our own storms and trials in life. He is always reaching out. And the true spirit of Christmas is for us to reach out too. "Pure Christ-like love flowing from true righteousness can change the world." "This Christmas mend a quarrel. Seek out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a letter. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in word and in deed. Keep a promise. Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Apologize. Try to understand. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Be kind. Be gentle. Laugh a little more. Express your gratitude. Welcome a stranger. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love and then speak it again."

My dear, lovely reader - may you have all the celebrations you hope for. May you get all the cheeseball and fudge you can eat. May you feel the love of the people around you, and especially the love of the Savior. And may your days be merry and bright. Merry Christmas.

The Place Whereon Thou Standest is Holy Ground

One of my favorite cinematic moments was written by William Goldman: “Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.” While it’s a pessimistic sentiment, there’s a lot of truth to it. Life is just . . . hard. There are really amazingly wonderful moments, but those moments tend to be wonderful because we make them so through hard work. We usually don’t like to talk about or hear about the hard things – it’s why social media feeds are full of the high points of our lives and why our automatic response to any inquiry into our well-being is, “I’m good!”

The past few weeks have been hard. The specifics aren’t important, but I’ve been going through what everybody goes through at different stages of their lives – intense disappointment and pain. There have been many hours of tears, phone calls to my life lines and a deep need to stay busy. More importantly, when I am faced with uncertainty, the only thing I know to do is to turn completely to my Heavenly Father. As Abraham Lincoln is credited with saying, “I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.” When my life seems to implode on itself and the peace of the world leaves me to my own devices, seeking the peace of the Lord just makes sense. The peace that comes not to free us from our circumstances, but in spite of our circumstances. The grace that gives us power and strength beyond what we normally would have the capacity to withstand.

I remember in the Missionary Training Center, one of my teachers said that he had “received freely” from the Lord on his mission. That is, quite simply, the only way I can describe what life has been like for me lately. I was talking with my sister last week, describing some of the things that I have felt and experienced. In an off hand way, I said that I wished that I didn’t have to go through this particular experience. Her response changed everything – she told me not to think of this time as a time of pain, but to make this a holy time. To take the amazing experiences and learnings that I’ve had and make them the focal point. We can make the darkest, most difficult moments of our lives intensely beautiful and meaningful in hindsight by focusing on what we are learning, how we are growing and what we can improve within ourselves. Become tough and tender, dear reader. And when all else fails, remember: sometimes it’s a good day if you get through the day without hitting or biting anyone. 

Happy Sabbath

So . . . it's been a rough week. Like, a bad week. One of those terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad weeks. The kind of week where I want to simultaneously laugh out of absurdity, cry out of frustration and hit something. So naturally, I played a lot of racquetball. But I've also been desperately looking forward to Sunday.

I was always taught to keep the Sabbath day holy. Growing up, Sunday was a different day in my house. We didn't shop, clean, work, exercise or garden. It was essentially the only time we used our large (for the time) sound system to blast classical music to all corners of the house. We helped my mom cook a big family dinner. We went to church every week without fail. There were Sunday approved movies consisting of Disney, musicals, Chariots of Fire, A Man For All Seasons and Henry V. Visiting grandma, visiting neighbors, playing card games, reading, singing . . . it was different and it was peaceful.

Because of the way I was raised, I grew up just not doing homework or working on Sunday. For my first run through college, I continued that practice mostly because I was accustomed to it. For my second run, I revel in it.

Let me say that this is not for everyone - it's a personal choice for me. But I'm so grateful for it. I need my Sundays. I need a day of worship. Of peace. A day where I can read and study the scriptures without a timeline. I love that I can stay at my sister's house for 4 hours and see my family without looking at my watch. I revel in worshipping at church, singing in the choir, reading for hours. I need one day a week where I don't feel constant anxiety about the things I SHOULD be doing.

So grateful for my friends, coworkers and team members from school who have supported me in this. I can't wait to put on my classical music playlist tomorrow morning and curl up with Outliers. And tonight while I stressfully study for midterms, I agree with Uncle Vernon. Best day of the whole week.

You Become

I bailed on a party with some friends tonight. Basically any social event where I won’t know the majority of the people involved creates high amounts of anxiety and requires an excellent set of circumstances for me to follow through on any more. It’s probably the grouchy old lady inside of me that gets stronger with each passing year. At any rate, it’s been a quiet evening.

In the midst of making cupcakes for a meeting tomorrow, cleaning my kitchen, hitting the grocery store twice, and finishing some homework, I was left with time to reflect on the summer, and the current state of my life. You know how you have those times when you’re just unsatisfied with who you are? When you find even yourself annoying? When you’re convinced that every person that hasn’t wanted to be a part of your life had just cause? Is it just me?

I am semi obsessed with progression. I always want to be working on some aspect of my life, because I want to be good. I want to be the kind of person that people want around. I want to be pleasant and kind and selfless and funny and clever and everything else that I admire in others. And because I’m slightly neurotic, I convince myself that by working towards something, I’ll become something better. In many ways, it’s why I went back to school. I left a job I loved and a career that was going places because I thought grad school would be hard and refine me just a little bit more. (TOTALLY right on the hard part, by the way.)

A good friend checked in on me, and I expressed to her some of the things that I have been feeling lately. I am blessed with the best of friends! She made me feel loved, but also helped me change my thinking. That to discount my personality is to discount everything I’ve gone through. I certainly didn’t start life the way that I am today. I became this person bit by bit. In her words, “Who you are is a product of so many difficult, heart-wrenching, wonderful, painful, loving experiences. You are exactly who you are supposed to be right now.”

The book The Velveteen Rabbit contains one of my favorite sentiments ever expressed in literature:

“Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you.’

'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.

'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'

'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?'

'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”

So I guess the key lies in making the best decisions I can, being as kind as possible, taking life in stride, and trusting the rest to the grace of God. Although I’ll probably move forward with my plans to master archery anyway.

Believe in Miracles

When I was 16 years old, I was following my dad to drop off a car at the mechanic. Along the way, my tire blew out. I didn’t have a cell phone, I didn’t know how to change a tire, and I didn’t know what to do. So I sat on the side of the road for an hour hoping that dad would eventually figure out where I was and find me. It was slightly traumatizing for me, and one of my biggest fears is breaking down on the freeway.

I have been feeling a bit on the edge of my limits lately. I occasionally have flair ups of intense pain in my neck and jaw, and I’m going on 3 weeks of the worst flair up I’ve ever had. Nothing that I do seems to make a difference, and it’s consumed most of my energy just to make it through the day. The combination of this plus the end of my internship has put me in bit of an emotional whirlwind.

So when my car made a huge THUNK on the freeway this morning, complete with the check engine light and the smell of something burning, I felt like I couldn’t handle it. One of the hardest parts of living far away from family and close friends is that I feel like I don’t have anyone I can call when I’m in trouble. My family and friends I have invested in – we’ve helped each other, and I’ve invested so I feel like it’s ok if I ask for help. I hate inconveniencing people. And in Texas, the closest person I have who I feel like I can call is 4.5 hours away.

However, I have AAA just for such occasions. I happened to break down where two freeways split, so not on the side of the road, but in between 5 lanes of high speed traffic. I was too nervous to even get out of my car. Tears were rolling down my face before I was even connected to the right dispatcher.

Imagine my surprise when a jeep pulled up behind me and out popped a girl from my church. She didn’t know it was me – she had driven past me on her way to church, thought about stopping but said to herself that she didn’t know anything about cars, but the feeling to turn around and go back came harder and stronger, so she did. And she sat with me for 90 minutes in her brand new car with traffic swirling around (12 cars almost hit us, including a semi), waiting for the tow truck to finally show up. And she happens to live and work in the same places I do, so she’s giving me a ride to work tomorrow.

Without her help, I would have been scared and nervous. I would have been on the side of the freeway for 90 minutes in 100 degree weather without air conditioning. I wouldn’t have had a way to make it to church, or a way to work in the morning. In essence, she turned an extremely traumatic experience into a tender reminder that the Lord is aware of me, that He knows what’s going on, and He answers my prayers, even the ones I haven’t offered yet.

I’m so grateful for technology and air conditioning. For mechanics and tow trucks. For a loving Heavenly Father who takes care of me. And for amazing people who listen to random promptings that save the emotional well-being of others. 

30 Before 30: Crazy Enough to Live a Little

Denis Waitley said, "It is not in the pursuit of happiness that we find fulfillment, it is in the happiness of pursuit." I'm one of those people who finds great joy in crossing things off my list of things to do, and in experiencing new things. My 30 Before 30 list was all about pushing myself to do things I wouldn't otherwise do, or things I have put off. I didn't get through them all, but I'll give you the justification below and you can judge my efforts for yourself. :)

COMPLETED GOALS

Do Work in 30 Temples - The goal that took the most amount of time, and was probably the most well-known due to my constant posting about it. I have such a special place in my heart for the temple. It is the place I feel most myself, the place that I feel closest to my mom, and the one place on earth I always feel peace. As special as the temples are, the people who made treks with me to them are more so. You know who you are - thank you for being a part of my journey.

Read 30 New Books - Anyone who knows me probably would call this a cheat goal, since I read constantly anyway. I wrote an entire blog post about reading - it is my escape and my refuge from life. Many thanks to the two book clubs that pushed me to read things I wouldn't have otherwise!

Learn Archery - I'm an all out geek. I love Lord of the Rings, Hunger Games and superheros, so this one was flat out amazing fun. Planning on continuing to improve this one.

Random, Inconvenient Act of Service - So often, I find excuses to only do "planned" service, rather than helping the people around me. This isn't the kind of thing that I would write about, because it's very personal, but making this goal gave me the fortitude to do something that was very difficult for someone who really did need help.

Paint - I've always loved art, and always loved to paint, but once I got it in my head that I wasn't good at it, I stopped. I actually ended up doing three different painting classes, and while I think we can still solidly state that I'm not good at it, it was a great experience!

Hike Mount Timpanogos - It's a long experience, including hiking up and down the same mountain a couple of times in the dark, and it didn't go as we planned, but my goodness it was a good story.

Fire a Gun - Loved it, loved it, loved it. Who knew how much fun that was going to be???

Disney World - Walt Disney said, "Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age, and dreams are forever." I love all things Disney, but Disneyland is too convenient, so I had to make the goal to make it all the way to Florida. Lovely week, but I think I still prefer the California version.

New York - Yes, it was everything I dreamed it would be. Broadway, 9/11 Museum, the Met, Max Brenner's . . . perfection.

Top 10 Movies on AFI's 100 Greatest Movie's List - I didn't love all of these, but I thought it was fascinating which movies shaped the history of movies. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. (See what I did there?)

30 New Recipes - I really do love cooking, but I have absolutely no confidence in it. Some of the recipes were spectacular, some were edible, and some were thrown away, but it had the desired effect - I've become much better at just looking stuff up and giving it a try!

Wax Museum - I know, I know. Really strange goal. But I got it in my head because I knew I would never go to a place like that, and if I'm honest, it kind of terrifies me. Face my fears and all that.

Interview Dad - One of my most treasured possessions is a recorded interview of mom. If I could become half of who my parent's are, I will have been successful in life. So I interviewed dad about life, family, the gospel, and everything. It is, without a doubt, my favorite on this list.

30 New Restaurants - I'm a creature of habit, so I tend to go to the same places over and over. Much like the recipes, I found some amazing ones, and some that I won't be going back to, but it was really fun.

Drive a Race Car - Red Ferrari. Amazing. Felt really silly getting back into my Honda. #lifegoals

Go to Hawaii - I believe the picture speaks for itself.

CPR Certification - This will sound unintentially sad, but the night before I was supposed to do my CPR certification in High School, mom passed away so I didn't make it. Ever since then, I felt like I should follow through so I have a basic knowledge of how to handle emergencies.

Learn to Tie a Tie - Courtesy of one of the guys I dated while I was working on this list, I learned several knots. Don't know that I could recreate them without a YouTube refresh, but I've got a good start.

Order Room Service - Mac and Cheese on my balcony. Lovely.

Get a New Job - When I wrote the list, I was unhappy in my position at work, and sometimes it's hard to move jobs just because it's comfortable. I think I can feel confident that I've crushed this one.

Ride a Segway - Several years ago I was walking about a mile from my car to an event I was going to, and someone on the side of the road was renting Segways. I wanted to use it just to get to the event and back to my car (they weren't too keen on it) but ever since I've wanted to try one out! Super, super fun. Only (almost) died twice.


INCOMPLETE GOALS (So far...)

30 Races, Olympic Triathlon, Full Marathon - These three goals were well underway until I hurt my knee. I haven't completely given up on running, but it most likely will require a very risky surgery, and I haven't decided if it's worth the risk yet. Stay tuned.

30 Songs on the Guitar - I haven't touched my guitar in a year. My goal is to get started on this one once I get back to Arizona and see where I can go with it.

30 Arabic Phrases - No excuse on this one. I just need to buckle down and make the flash cards for myself.

Take a Dance Class - I kept searching and searching for a tap dancing class for adults and I could never find one. I'm still determined to make this one happen, and Kelley has promised to take a modern dance class with me once I graduate.

Write a News Article - Does this blog count? No? Dang.

Drive in Movie - I had this one all planned out for 2 weekends ago. I went online to buy tickets and then I noticed that it was an "Idle Free Zone." As in, car off. As in, no air conditioning. So yeah, that one is going to wait until fall.

Record Dad Reading Dr. Suess - I tribute my love of reading to my dad and my oldest brother, both of whom read outloud to me, and could be found reading constantly. Anytime I read Dr. Suess, I hear it in dad's voice and I wanted to capture that. To be honest, I had ample opportunity to complete this one, but the more I thought about it, I couldn't make this one work in execution. I wanted it to be classy, not cheesy, and I couldn't figure it out. Might still happen - I'll have to see.

And there it is. It's been wonderful and hard and fun and fulfilling. Not sure what the next set of crazy goals will be for me, but I wanted to list a couple of things that I've done in addition to this list. Moved 2 states, went to grad school, changed jobs twice, went to South Africa, and did 30 shots of Diet Coke on my actual birthday. It's a good life!