I'm taking a lot of credits this semester. I feel like I'm always busy and that I can't give enough of myself to all of the people and things in my life. I just want to be able to give more. And be more. But as I get myself worked up about being perfect, being a good friend and being someone worthwhile. The type of person that other people want to know and be with. I realize that I need to stop getting worked up and just be. And of all of the physical things I can give, aside from love (which I give unconditionally to many many people), one of the greatest things I can give is time. And whether I'm giving this time to my classes, my employers, my friends, or God, this time is valuable and I need to not be distracted. Which leads me to this simple phrase that was said in one of my classes and I have been saying to myself several times a day ever since:
Be where you are.
I have not perfected this art yet. I still let my mind wander and don't give my all to where I am all of the time. But I'm trying. And I love the idea of making the most of my time not by multi-tasking. But rather giving my devotion and self to where I am. To focus on the people who I am with because if I'm there, I made the choice to be there and I need to make people believe that I want to be there.
This applies to classes, work, hanging out with friends, and homework. Like I said, I'm not perfect. But I've noticed a difference. It makes me happier and I'm getting more out of what I'm doing and I still have time to accomplish everything I need to. And I don't freak out so much about being enough of a person. Sometimes it still feels like there aren't enough hours in the day. But less-so now. So
Be where you are.
Make the most of your time.
There's more to life than trying to get everything done as fast as possible.
- and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy -
Thomas Merton was a monk and a writer. He was born in France and eventually moved to the United States. And months ago, I read this quote by him. "Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business, in fact, it is nobody's business, what we are asked to do is to love and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy." It's truly beautiful but what I've never really noticed is the end where it says that loving itself makes us worthy of love.
I would like to say that I was recently thinking about love, but I mean, it's something I think about a lot and have been thinking about for a while. But at church today the question was posed
"How do you better love yourself?"
Loving oneself is a delicate balance between, self-confidence, self-esteem, vanity, and humility. But Thomas Merton says that when we love others, we ourselves become worthy of love. Every human being has loved. Romantically, platonically, completely, unconditionally, unrequitedly, perfectly, or imperfectly....humans inherently have a great capacity to love. [This is a long and beautiful subject that I'm not going to go into completely - but if you're interested, check THIS out] But really I believe Thomas Merton. That if we can love others, we can love ourselves. We are worth loving, we are all worthwhile. And if we have applied love in our lives to others, why shouldn't we be able to apply that love to ourselves?
In a book (movie) that I love, it says, "We accept the love we think we deserve." The moment I heard this, I tried to comprehend it. I often associate it with a quote from another movie it says that "Every woman has the exact love life she wants." and then later on in the story it says "But I can't imagine that this is what you want."
I know that might seem unrelated, but in my head it makes sense. It all comes together. No person on earth knows how to love perfectly. We all have things we have to learn about love. But I think we too often forget the importance of loving ourselves. If we love others, we can love ourselves (even if it seems hard sometimes, trust me, I KNOW). And if we love ourselves, we want more love. We want to be loved right.
We are worthy of love, most certainly from others, but just as importantly, from ourselves.
Lightning doesn't hit the same place twice in a row.
Now it doesn't matter if she was speaking metaphorically or what she might have been metaphorically speaking about. All that matters is that I've thought about it so much since she said it.
Growing up in Northern California, I'm not a stranger to thunder storms. But usually, when I think of lightning storms. Two very specific events come to mind. The first is the storm that was happening as I was at high school orientation for the first time. I didn't know at the time that it was going to be my last California thunderstorm. But I'm so glad that I took the time to appreciate it. The second storm I always think of is the first storm we had at Redfish. Each of these times make me think of the changes that went through after them. My move to Idaho, my intense growing experience that happened while I was as Redfish and the semester that followed it.
This friend of mine was trying to remain optimistic for me. And I appreciated it. But the metaphor was a lie. Lightning struck twice in a row and it was hard. Both times. And both times require extensive recovery. And you know what, that's okay.
The way I see it, lightning is always followed by thunder. Lightning signifies change. Once it does hit, good or bad, better or worse, things will change. So even though lightning did hit twice and yeah, it was not fun. Change is on it's way. Because if you want to dance in the rain, you're going to risk the sting of lightning. But then you'll experience the rolling beauty of thunder and the storm will rage on. And by all means, keep dancing. Keep experiencing life. Allow the lightning to come to you. Allow yourself to be hurt. To mend. Allow the progress to happen. Don't sit inside, wishing for the rain to stop. Wishing that you could walk into the sunshine without any pain.
I'm not sure if this makes much sense. I have a lot of emotions flowing through my body today. And I really like that. Because it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I can change. That good things are happening and better things will come.
Sometimes I worry that I might be too mature for my own good. And then I do something ridiculous like wear leggings with cats flying through space on them. Or I'll do something irresponsible like write a blogpost instead of my paper.
I'm only twenty-one years old. I have been through a lot in my life, and really I was fairly young when my mom stopped painting the world as a pretty, perfect place. But I wouldn't say I've had a life that forced me to grow-up immaturely and I would definitely say I'm a far cry from getting a special segment on Ellen or Oprah. I would say I've had a normal life, in which I had to start my journey to adulthood at the ripe old age of seventeen. I think most people could probably say they did the same thing. And it has been quite the journey, full of all the things that make people learn how to grow up (failure, heartache, financial stress, pain).
I was a quiet child. I was shy. I always enjoyed listening to people. I was constantly worried about being rude or someone that could have mean words said behind my back. Interestingly enough, I now study Sociology. I study how people interact and why they do what they act because of these situations. Along the way of my college journey - I have been allowed to better understand myself and the people around me.
Now let's just start off by admitting that I am human. I have just as many flaws as the next person, if not more. I also understand that other people are human and have flaws. Friendship is recognizing the flaws in someone and still talking to them anyway. And I have a lot of friends who are really patient me. Which is awesome. Because I sure do talk far too much and I sometimes can joke about things to a degree that people think that I personally am attacking them and sometimes I'm a horrid gossiper. I get impatient with my peers who cannot figure out how to be adults. But all of these things I'm trying to stop and aside from the talking too much thing, I do pretty well. I try to apologize. I try to make up for it. But like all humans, I falter.
This semester. I have been fighting a beast. I will not say if this beast is a person, my own thoughts, a disease, a book, or an animal. I will not say if this beast is actually real or a figment of my imagination. I will not say that I have conquered this beast. Because that would be not true. I have been patient. I have submitted to what the Lord has handed to me because it is better to be happy and share love than to be frustrated and cause contention.
I will admit these things though:
1. Maybe I have not always had the best attitude about life this semester. And as much as I'd like to blame the beast, it is not entirely the beast's fault.
2. The beast has made me into someone who entirely not myself. Many times. And I don't like who that person was. I will be happy when the beast exits my life, I will feel like myself again.
3. The beast has caused me to feel:
inadequate
FAT
stupid
messy
unintelligent
weak
hideously UGLY
unsuccessful
mean
worthless
I have felt like I am not smart enough to be a college student. I have felt like I don't deserve to have friends. I have felt like the world would be better if I turned into the shy girl who never talked. I felt like no man will ever love me. I have felt like my hair is keeping me from being beautiful. I have felt like I may never be good enough to accomplish anything of merit in this life. I have felt like crying.
I have felt a lot of awful, horrible things because of the beast's power.
I've been trying to release myself from the beast's power for a while now.
Since the moment I recognized the beast was trying to change me.
And although it has not been an easy fight, I have been mostly successful.
But I'd lie if I told you I haven't thought some of these things in the past week because of the beast.
But I have learned so much from the beast. First off, whatever the beast makes me feel, I am not any of those things listed above. I am a person and I deserve the right to be who I am.
And I want to be better. To turn my weaknesses into strengths. To not let anyone else be effected by the beast. I want to love more. I want to love better. I want to forget the beast and I also want to remember the beast so I never go through this again.
So I guess this is just a long post about why I haven't been writing. And about how we are all good enough. And we can all fight beasts. And we can all find strength to get through the rough times. We are all people and deserve to be treated as such. And if there is a beast in your life, a person, your grades, your thoughts, anything...FIGHT against it. Be who you are, because you are capable of so much.
My junior year of high school was the year that I really recognized that I starting to lose my connection to California. I missed it. All of the time. I still do. I continually felt the need to be there to feel like home again. I'm sure that everyone misses the place where they grew up. I'm sure that's why my mom insisted on us moving back to Idaho after her being gone for nearly thirty years.
That was the year that I was taking AP English with one of my all-time favorite teachers. We had to write an essay in which we used description of a place to evoke emotion to our readers. A pretty basic assignment I would say. I chose to write about something that I had a lot of emotions about. Rinaldi's Market in Linden, CA. My teacher was amazed. She loved the paper, it was a major improvement from my previous assignment and it was full of my dramatic teenage emotions. My mom cried when she read my paper. I sent it to my friends in Linden and they loved it too. You may be sitting there, thinking to yourself: really, a grocery store? What makes it so special?
I can't really explain it. When this world seems to be getting so big, it's nice to know that a place like Rinaldi's exists. Or maybe thinking about how it was in the past makes me remember that I'm from a small town and that no matter where I go or what aspirations I have, that's where my roots are.
The other day, I was working on an assignment for class and I went through and read my paper about Rinaldi's. The first time in years. And guess what - it was a really bad paper. But there were some beautiful parts to it. It was titled "I Fell in Love at a Grocery Store". I remember how proud I was of that title. Then, I kid you not - seven months later, THIS VIDEO was released. It then became my dream to actually fall in love in a grocery store. But this isn't actually a blogpost about how I have recently fallen in love or anything.
This post is mostly about how sometimes it's really nice to remember where you came from.
It makes you want to look at where you're going and make it count.
I have this internal debate every time someone asks me where I'm from. It would seem so sad to forget the place I grew up. But I hate neglecting what Idaho gave to me as well. So I usually say both.
Because I like who I am.
And these places are a part of that.
It's time for my annual independence day post. "Independence Day?" You may be thinking to yourself...but in case you were wondering, on October 5, 2011- I broke up with a boy. And then I went a whole year without dating anyone. I didn't hold a boy's hand. I wen on a total of one date (to some, this may not be a big deal, but for me, it was). And you wanna know something. I LIVED. The culmination of my thoughts were written and I took on another year. And you know what. I didn't go without dates. It hasn't by any means been a boy free year. It hasn't been a year without being hurt. But I still wanted to Celebrate.
"I'll remember those three letters. It will be O.K."
Last year, I was celebrating being able to be myself. Learning how to live and embrace my free spirit. I became comfortable with me. I know that I can be who I am and no one can change who that is. People can make me want to be better, inspire change - but I will always be who I am. And that was a good thing to learn. That was something happy to celebrate.
"Let your words be anything but empty"
Ever since the first time I heard this song, I felt like it was the most perfect anthem. This year, I think this is what I've learned. I've learned how to use my power. That I have power. To not be afraid to be or say what I feel. And yeah, maybe it's brought on some heartache, but the joy that I've been able to have afterwards and the lessons I've learned because of it is immeasurable.
I've learned how to recognize my weaknesses and improve my character. I've had other inspire change and then I've made the changes. I've improved, and that's really cool. So really, there is every reason to celebrate.
And I think that everyone should find reasons to celebrate their lives. Celebrate the changes. The miracles. The positive things in life. Because change is good. Progress is necessary and the beautiful thing about the life we've been given is that we are allowed to progress and improve.
So Independence Day has come and I am happy. And I am me. And I am still young, I am alive. And I am incredibly free.
With people I've just met or people who don't even know me, a lot of the time, the first thing said to me is:
"I LOVE YOUR HAIR. Don't you just love it?"
and then as people get to know me, the question that almost always comes up is:
"Has your hair always been short?"
The responses to each of these questions respectively is "Thank you and yes it's the best thing I've ever done" and "No." It kind of blows my mind to think that there are people in my life who have never known me with long hair. It's strange how my short hair has become a part of who I am. When I cut it, I wrote a blogpost titled "It's just hair." But to be honest, it's always been more.
I realized at a pretty young age that my hair was my greatest asset. It was a beautiful color, it was fine and broke easily. My mom always kept it at my shoulders and had me count my brush strokes when I brushed it every night. It was my main point of vanity until I started putting it in ponytails as I got older. That was an attempt to hide it I think. Or I just stop caring because in middle school, I didn't think I'd ever be pretty so why try...
In high school, things changed a little bit. It became my greatest asset again. I loved my hair again, that was cool. But no one ever noticed it. It's not like it had a lot of power over people or that it made all the boys drop at my feet. It was just there.
Soccer was where hair really counted. That ponytail is a symbol of status. Working for the soccer team at BYU, I have noticed a lot about female soccer players, and in turn, myself. But hair is an important part of that. The way each girl does her hair expresses individuality and seriousness of play. It just means something. I don't know if I can fully describe it. But trust me.
Being on stage, hair becomes extremely important. And this is an example of the ridiculousness I use to put myself through. But it's true. Whether you're acting or dancing, your hair is there and it changes things. I went and saw a dance performance last week. And I realized the importance of having long hair to put into perfect buns as a ballerina and beautiful up-do's as ballroom dancers. You notice when a woman is on stage with short hair.
This post is already getting long, but recently, a coworker and I were discussing how much we love our short hair and that although we pretend we cut our hair for ease. We also cut our hair to make a statement. My statement was particularly directed toward an idiot boy who said that girls were no longer attractive once they had short hair. And the statement is that as beautiful as long hair is, sometimes, a girl can really rock short hair and it can be beautiful just as much. This isn't a plea, by any means, for every girl to cut their hair short.
This is just a plea for you to do what you want and to be happy.
