Read an amazing essay written by BYU's own fabulous Meg Morley and published in the Hamilton Stone Review! It's great!
http://www.hamiltonstone.org/hsr20nonfiction.html#thatzombiejustneedsahug
05 February 2010
03 February 2010
Back in vogue!
A new old favorite--Hall & Oates, You Make My Dreams
Doesn't this just put a smile on your face? I'm in love with this song and this clip just makes it that much better. Enjoy!
Doesn't this just put a smile on your face? I'm in love with this song and this clip just makes it that much better. Enjoy!
semi-hypothetical situations
Dearest Facebook,
I don't know how to say this but to just say it. I think we should take a break. I know I should have come to you directly; I should have told you face to facebook, but you'll see, it's better this way. It might come as something of a shock after all the time we've spent together lately--all those late nights and what seems like every moment of my spare time. You don't even have to ask, yes, it will be hard for me too. I won't pretend that I won't think about you, miss you, want you back. But I also know this is for the best. As much as I have enjoyed our time together I know that something about our relationship just isn't right and I have to let go, even if I don't want to. It's strange the way you have slowly become part of my life, every day filling up a bigger part of it and making me think that I wouldn't be complete without you; that I need you. But it isn't true.
All I can say now is thank you for everything you've given me--your messages, the photos, that connection that I don't think I would have had in any other way. But then, maybe it wasn't the kind of connection I needed. As great as it seemed, I need something real, something you can never give me. So I'm sorry, but this is goodbye. Trust me when I say this is for the best.
Farewell and best wishes,
Kendal
I don't know how to say this but to just say it. I think we should take a break. I know I should have come to you directly; I should have told you face to facebook, but you'll see, it's better this way. It might come as something of a shock after all the time we've spent together lately--all those late nights and what seems like every moment of my spare time. You don't even have to ask, yes, it will be hard for me too. I won't pretend that I won't think about you, miss you, want you back. But I also know this is for the best. As much as I have enjoyed our time together I know that something about our relationship just isn't right and I have to let go, even if I don't want to. It's strange the way you have slowly become part of my life, every day filling up a bigger part of it and making me think that I wouldn't be complete without you; that I need you. But it isn't true.
All I can say now is thank you for everything you've given me--your messages, the photos, that connection that I don't think I would have had in any other way. But then, maybe it wasn't the kind of connection I needed. As great as it seemed, I need something real, something you can never give me. So I'm sorry, but this is goodbye. Trust me when I say this is for the best.
Farewell and best wishes,
Kendal
02 February 2010
lost and gone
Last week I got a voice mail from my mom that scared me half to death. There was no real reason for me to believe that tragedy lingered behind her words, but there was something in her voice and her words and the way she asked me to call her back at 5:00 that just didn't seem usual. I told myself there was nothing to worry about, that I had no reason to suspect that anything was really wrong--she just wanted to talk!
But I couldn't help it. Terrible thoughts passed through my crazy brain all day--what if something had happened to Grandma Gail or Grandpa Jack? What if something had happened to Ashley or Jody or Christy or another friend from home and I just hadn't heard yet? What if my mom had gone to the doctor and was diagnosed with Cancer or any other potentially fatal disease? what if what if what if what if.....?
I was on edge for hours, hardly able to wait until 5:00 to call. When I did I found out that everyone was fine except for our little dog Casper. I felt a little guilty for not being more devastated, and I was sad, mostly for my mom because i knew how upset she was, but I could hardly contain my relief that everyone I love was safe for one more day. What a blessing!
The thing is, I don't know what I would have done or how I would have reacted if my mom had told me that someone had died or was injured or if some other terrible tragedy had taken place in my absence? What would i do or think or feel? It is a terrifying thought to me that I don't know how I might respond to tragedy. I have seen a bit of death in my days, but I still haven't figured it out. I don't know how to feel and how to not feel and how to not lock things up in little corners of my heart and try to keep them wrapped up and hidden away where they can't hurt me and where no one else will see them or know they even exist. I haven't figure out how to confess my sorrows or to let others see those pieces of me that not even I know what to make of. And because I can't sort them out and make them mesh with the happiness that I try to feel and portray to those around me, I just pretend that those other things don't exist. And sometimes it is easier than others. And sometimes I can't pretend at all and everyone sees right through me and I feel transparent and exposed. And death is one of those things that maybe never becomes easier; something that we never know how to blend with our own living and the reality of our own eminent deaths. Even for those of us who believe so fully in an afterlife and in the never-ending bonds between families and loved ones, there is something of our mortality that prevents us from accepting that these few short years of life alone can be redeemed by an eternity of togetherness. There is something about living earth bound that gives us loyalty to this life and makes us value it in ways that perhaps we should not. Or perhaps we should. Because as short and as small as life may be, it is real and it is all that we have here and now. This is where we must make our homes and our lives and our families and where we must learn to love and feel and break through the cold barriers in our hearts and learn to cry and laugh and connect and be who we must become. This is where we decide if we want to touch and be touched by those around us or if we want to blockade ourselves into safety and protect our hearts from the hurt that shall inevitably come. I haven't learned how to do this yet, but I have great examples around me.
I am so grateful to my roommate Rachel who has one of the truest hearts I know. She knows how to let others in and allow them into her life (though I am sure she has those hidden hurts as we all do). And this week she impressed me more than ever. She received the call I dreaded last week and found out that her grandmother had passed away. And she cried and she remembered and she laughed and she shared and I know that even though she is hurting now and she doesn't know any more than the rest of us how to make the death of her grandmother fit into her heart without tearing it apart, she will heal that space and it will become another mark of her strength. She amazes me. God bless her and her family.
But I couldn't help it. Terrible thoughts passed through my crazy brain all day--what if something had happened to Grandma Gail or Grandpa Jack? What if something had happened to Ashley or Jody or Christy or another friend from home and I just hadn't heard yet? What if my mom had gone to the doctor and was diagnosed with Cancer or any other potentially fatal disease? what if what if what if what if.....?
I was on edge for hours, hardly able to wait until 5:00 to call. When I did I found out that everyone was fine except for our little dog Casper. I felt a little guilty for not being more devastated, and I was sad, mostly for my mom because i knew how upset she was, but I could hardly contain my relief that everyone I love was safe for one more day. What a blessing!
The thing is, I don't know what I would have done or how I would have reacted if my mom had told me that someone had died or was injured or if some other terrible tragedy had taken place in my absence? What would i do or think or feel? It is a terrifying thought to me that I don't know how I might respond to tragedy. I have seen a bit of death in my days, but I still haven't figured it out. I don't know how to feel and how to not feel and how to not lock things up in little corners of my heart and try to keep them wrapped up and hidden away where they can't hurt me and where no one else will see them or know they even exist. I haven't figure out how to confess my sorrows or to let others see those pieces of me that not even I know what to make of. And because I can't sort them out and make them mesh with the happiness that I try to feel and portray to those around me, I just pretend that those other things don't exist. And sometimes it is easier than others. And sometimes I can't pretend at all and everyone sees right through me and I feel transparent and exposed. And death is one of those things that maybe never becomes easier; something that we never know how to blend with our own living and the reality of our own eminent deaths. Even for those of us who believe so fully in an afterlife and in the never-ending bonds between families and loved ones, there is something of our mortality that prevents us from accepting that these few short years of life alone can be redeemed by an eternity of togetherness. There is something about living earth bound that gives us loyalty to this life and makes us value it in ways that perhaps we should not. Or perhaps we should. Because as short and as small as life may be, it is real and it is all that we have here and now. This is where we must make our homes and our lives and our families and where we must learn to love and feel and break through the cold barriers in our hearts and learn to cry and laugh and connect and be who we must become. This is where we decide if we want to touch and be touched by those around us or if we want to blockade ourselves into safety and protect our hearts from the hurt that shall inevitably come. I haven't learned how to do this yet, but I have great examples around me.
I am so grateful to my roommate Rachel who has one of the truest hearts I know. She knows how to let others in and allow them into her life (though I am sure she has those hidden hurts as we all do). And this week she impressed me more than ever. She received the call I dreaded last week and found out that her grandmother had passed away. And she cried and she remembered and she laughed and she shared and I know that even though she is hurting now and she doesn't know any more than the rest of us how to make the death of her grandmother fit into her heart without tearing it apart, she will heal that space and it will become another mark of her strength. She amazes me. God bless her and her family.
29 January 2010
Secrets
Good mornings are not possible when you wake up late and still have three hours of homework undone from the day before.
I know because, well, I had a not so good morning today. I don't know that I would generally classify myself as a "morning person," but overall I usually feel more or less congenial and optimistic as I wake up and drag myself out of bed, though I rarely would rather get out than stay in--am I the only person who truly LOVES sleep? It's so pleasant. I love soft pillows and warm blankets and resting muscles and a peaceful mind and dreams--even scary ones--they're just so interesting. And I love to analyze my dreams and diagnose myself through psychoanalytic speculation. Sleep! My dearest and most illusive friend!
But despite my desire to stay in bed, I regularly get up anyway and feel more than just ok about it. Proof that I am neither depressed nor suffering from mono, if nothing else! On days like today, however, I am forced to pull myself up from bed with a terrible sinking feeling, wondering if perhaps it would not be best to remain beneath the sheets and wait for another 24 hours to eclipse this unwelcome day; hoping with the next breaking of morning all the dreaded details of today will have disappeared with the magical passing of time. And yet, even in my half-awakened state at 7am, which should have been 6am, I know that it doesn't work that way. I know that if I stay in bed and miss today I will just have new reasons not to get up tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. And it occurs to me that it's true what they say: We have to live in today. I'm sorry to break the hearts of "Annie" lovers, but we can't love tomorrow without first living today. It is, in fact, the very reality that I did not live quite properly yesterday that made my awaking today so very unpleasant. Had I prepared more fully and gotten all the things accomplished which I should have, I would have woken up today to the figurative chirping of birds and the sun shining through my window to beckon me softly into the new day--and it is not tomorrow that would call, but today itself. We have no hopeful tomorrows, we only have potential todays and our todays determine our tomorrows, which in turn become todays full of opportunity and choice and it is up to us to live today and thus to prepare for the next and the next after that.
So I ask you now and always, tempt me not with tomorrows! They will do me no good!
"Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient is the day unto the evil thereof." 3 Nephi 13:34
I know because, well, I had a not so good morning today. I don't know that I would generally classify myself as a "morning person," but overall I usually feel more or less congenial and optimistic as I wake up and drag myself out of bed, though I rarely would rather get out than stay in--am I the only person who truly LOVES sleep? It's so pleasant. I love soft pillows and warm blankets and resting muscles and a peaceful mind and dreams--even scary ones--they're just so interesting. And I love to analyze my dreams and diagnose myself through psychoanalytic speculation. Sleep! My dearest and most illusive friend!
But despite my desire to stay in bed, I regularly get up anyway and feel more than just ok about it. Proof that I am neither depressed nor suffering from mono, if nothing else! On days like today, however, I am forced to pull myself up from bed with a terrible sinking feeling, wondering if perhaps it would not be best to remain beneath the sheets and wait for another 24 hours to eclipse this unwelcome day; hoping with the next breaking of morning all the dreaded details of today will have disappeared with the magical passing of time. And yet, even in my half-awakened state at 7am, which should have been 6am, I know that it doesn't work that way. I know that if I stay in bed and miss today I will just have new reasons not to get up tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. And it occurs to me that it's true what they say: We have to live in today. I'm sorry to break the hearts of "Annie" lovers, but we can't love tomorrow without first living today. It is, in fact, the very reality that I did not live quite properly yesterday that made my awaking today so very unpleasant. Had I prepared more fully and gotten all the things accomplished which I should have, I would have woken up today to the figurative chirping of birds and the sun shining through my window to beckon me softly into the new day--and it is not tomorrow that would call, but today itself. We have no hopeful tomorrows, we only have potential todays and our todays determine our tomorrows, which in turn become todays full of opportunity and choice and it is up to us to live today and thus to prepare for the next and the next after that.
So I ask you now and always, tempt me not with tomorrows! They will do me no good!
"Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient is the day unto the evil thereof." 3 Nephi 13:34
27 January 2010
Goggles and a swim cap
There really isn't anything I like better than a good swim, except perhaps the lingering suctioned-circles my goggles leave around my eyes that make me appear like a distant and strange cousin of the raccoon. That is, in fact, my favorite thing of all.
In other news, I love homemade trail mix, I hate homework, I can't remember why I thought majoring in English was a good idea, and I have decided to become a gypsy.
In other news, I love homemade trail mix, I hate homework, I can't remember why I thought majoring in English was a good idea, and I have decided to become a gypsy.
24 January 2010
Wisdom
"What might we be if we rise and evolve, if we come further down from the brooding trees and out onto the smiling plain, if we unclench the fist and drop the dagger, if we emerge blinking from the fort and the stockade and the prison, if we smash away the steel from around our hearts, if we peel the scales from our eyes, if we do what we say we will do, if we act as if our words really matter, if our words become muscled mercy, if we grow a fifth chamber in our hearts and a seventh and a ninth, and become as if new creatures arisen from our shucked skins, the creatures we are so patently and brilliantly and utterly and wholly and holy capable of becoming...
"What then?"
-from How We Wrestle Is Who We Are by Brian Doyle
"What then?"
-from How We Wrestle Is Who We Are by Brian Doyle
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