wholeness

I found this beautiful thing on Feminist Mormon Housewives, and just had to share. It makes my heart ache.

And I will recommend to you what fmh recommended to me: it is best read aloud.

Listen: The world is here
by Desmond Tutu

Don’t you hear it, praying and sighing and groaning for wholeness?
Sighing and whispering: wholeness, wholeness, wholeness?
An arduous, tiresome, difficult journey towards wholeness.
God, who gives us strength of body, makes us whole.
We yearn to experience wholeness in our innermost being:
In health and prosperity, we continue to feel
un-well, un-fulfilled, or half-filled.
There is a hollowness in our pretended well-being:
Our spirits cry out for the well-being of the whole human family.
The beggars and the mad people in our streets:
Where are their relatives? Who is their father? Where is their mother?
We cry for the wholeness of humanity.
But the litany of brokenness is without end.
Black and white; rich and poor; Hausa and Yoruba;
Presbyterian and Roman Catholic; We are all parts of each other.
We yearn to be folded into the fullness of life together.
Life, together with the outcast,
The prisoner, the mad woman, the abandoned child.
Our wholeness is intertwined with their hurt.
Wholeness means healing the hurt,
Working with Christ to heal the hurt,
Seeing and feeling the suffering of others, standing alongside them.
The person next to you: with a different language and culture,
with a different skin or hair color–
There is no wall, there is only God at work in the whole:
Heal the sores on the feet; salvage the disintegrated personality;
Bind the person back into the whole.
For without that one, we do not have a whole.
God who gives us strength of body
Makes us whole.
Amen.

One of my favorite parts: "for without that one, we do not have a whole." 

Watched 500 Days of Summer again last night, and I can't get this song out of my head.

Not to mention how great the scene is, just overall.

The long, cozy evenings of winter always make me crave romance.

I know many of us already know this, but many still don't, or don't realize its importance. 

Violence against women begins with turning women's bodies into objects.

laundry soap

Hello, friends.

I have been a little absent lately. My apologies.

I have some ideas for posts that i've been sitting on, which I will hopefully share soon, but in the meantime I want to share something else with you.

-------------------------

I've been making my own laundry soap for a few years now. It works well, doesn't leave a strong scent (but it does leave a fresh scent), is much cheaper, and is environmentally friendly. I got this recipe from The Naturally Clean Home by Karyn Siegel-Maier.

I usually make a double or triple batch, and it lasts me through 4-5 months or so.

Mix together:

1 cup washing soda (available in boxes in the laundry aisle)
1 cup baking soda
1 cup soap flakes or finely grated pure bar soap
10 drops essential oil of choice* (optional)

Use 1/2 cup for an average load. (I usually use less than that)

I usually start the water running into the washing machine, put in a scoop of soap and glug of white vinegar (which apparently also cuts down on static electricity).

Enjoy!

*Here is a picture of the essential oil chart in the book, which I really appreciate, 

though I will say I don't really notice the scent in the washed clothes, after drying:

exhaustion

This morning, I woke up, and I actually felt rested. Kind of sort of rested. At 7am, no less.

Glory be.

Which, let me tell you. It's about time. After spending nearly my entire weekend in my pajamas, in my house, and feeling slightly ill and/or utterly exhausted, it's about damn* time I start feeling rested. On Sunday afternoon I stood in the middle of the kitchen in my pajamas, completely at a loss, asking myself, "...what exactly is it that normal people eat for dinner?"

All I could come up with were pasta and nachos. Which just reinforced to me a thousand times over that it was clearly time to lay low for awhile.

After the move, and our Walden excursion to Timp Lodge, I proceeded to have some weird stomach thing. On my birthday, of course.  This, shortly after my ear infection which popped up the weekend before we moved. And the weird foot injury that showed up out of nowhere a couple days after that (also just a couple days before we moved).

And then, I got to thinking. When was the last time I wasn't drowning in responsibilities? And I think it was March. Or maybe the end of February. Just before I began teaching at Walden. (Don't worry, post with details about that job coming soon.) I have seriously been running like mad ever since. Maybe I'll write a post with details about how things have been since then. Mostly fun, but totally busy crazy.

Thank goodness things seem to be slowing down just a tiny bit. Parent teacher conferences today and tomorrow, general conference this weekend, (and a birthday sleepover, to make up for being sick on my birthday) and then things should be pretty normal, hopefully. Who knows, maybe I will be able to devote more time to things like unpacking boxes! Such excitement!

Also, as noted above, a couple days ago was october 1st, which marks the first day of me not being on my mother's health insurance. This (at the moment) has me feeling somewhat orphaned (i don't know why i wasn't expecting that), though i anticipate that the orphaned feeling will develop into more of a feeling of independence. i mean, at age 26 i am legally allowed to do anything any other adult can do (rent cars, drink, etc.), which is a little crazy to think about.


*I also seem to have recently picked up the habit of swearing like a sailor, which is loads of fun. believe me. 

My little sister moved away to go to college a little over a week ago. The whole process reminded me of this post I wrote, just after I graduated from BYU.

Those first years away from home are quite crazy, in good and bad ways. A lot of stretching and growth happens... but it is also so, so fun. I am so excited for her! She is awesome. I can't wait to watch as she makes memories of her own.

fame and fortune

I've been in the paper a couple of times over the past year, and thought I should post links to those articles. You know, for posterity.

A couple days ago an article was published in the Daily Herald, which highlighted the baby-wearing class we teach at WIC. Link here.

And at the end of October last year, an article was published in the Daily Universe (BYU's student run newspaper) with details about WIC's breastfeeding classes, which I was nominated to talk to the reporter about. That one is here.*

Both classes are free to anyone who wants to come! I love that about WIC. It's all about helping people.





*the classes are now offered at different times, as a side note. i'm sure you were all about ready to attend the very next class.

Wish I could go to this:



Even just the promo is stunning.

Article on it, here.

sickie

...is what my father used to call me/us when we were sick as children.

It was the first thing that came to me for a title for this post, because, well...

I am sick.

I don't get sick often, thank goodness (the last time I had a fever was almost two years ago). I blame that on good genes. And the fact that my mother breastfed me for my first three months. I think it is an ear infection/cold this time. I woke up with a fever, though I think it has gone down from this morning.

ps. having a fever is the weirdest feeling.

I have used the following natural remedies to try to clear it up quickly:

• echinacea tincture (2x already today)
• mullein tincture (for my cough)
• xylitol sinus/nasal spray (2x already today)
• apple cider vinegar (2 tablespoons in a glass of water. this is probably the grossest one of the whole list)
• onion juice in my ear (don't worry, that is a reputable source. though putting things in your ear can be potentially dangerous, i imagine, so try that one at your own risk)
• homemade garlic and onion broth (this actually tasted pretty good)
• not eating sugar (even in fruit form)
• not eating much, and only whole grains, vegetables or protein when I do
• drinking lots of water
• staying in bed (mostly), with my head propped up to help with sinus congestion

I will probably try some garlic in my ear next if I have more problems, though the onion juice helped quite a bit. 

Something's got to work, right? I've had good success with natural remedies in the past. I don't even remember the last time I had to take antibiotics, so let's keep that trend going! 

I don't want to have to get a sub for school tomorrow.

In the meantime, I'll take advantage of this excuse to stay in bed all day and catch up on the books I need to read, so I can decide which ones I want to teach in my class. 

I woke up this morning a little after noon! It was a total shock, but I was definitely pleased. I have been behind on sleep for quite a while now, so a couple of extra hours are welcomed.

I think it was the result of the weather being cooler than it has been. All summer I've been sleeping with a wet sheet at night to stay cool, then waking up around 8 (9 if I'm lucky), even on days when I don't have to work, simply because it gets too hot in the house to sleep anymore (our current house is air-conditioning-less).

It seems fall weather just might be coming to join us! I cannot wait.

Sometimes (actually, most times) I feel uncomfortable in this "new" and different life of mine (my life has changed drastically in the past year). My "new" life, is a life of a big house with my own room, a car of my own, money to go out to eat if I want. A life of big beautiful picture windows in my living room, and nice, new, clean carpet. A life of traveling to Madison to visit my best friend, just because I feel like it. A life of having a full-time, salaried job with benefits. And, get this - it's a job that I actually enjoy.

Not to complain, of course. I have worked hard to get where I am, and most days I love it. Even if it does feel a little unfamiliar.

I often yearn for the cozy closeness of my old life. The smelly basement I lived in. The terrible, old, dark green carpet, thrift store clothes, permanently dirty kitchen. The broken down furniture. The familiar summer evenings on the couches on our front porch, large-bulbed Christmas lights all aglow, listening to Colin or Jana play guitar. Often singing along.

It reminds me of how it feels when your favorite pair of jeans finally wears out. You have to buy a new pair of jeans, but it takes a while to wear them in. And even then, once they're worn in, they still won't feel quite how those old ones did. Which doesn't mean the new jeans aren't great, of course. They're just different.

I'm sure I'll figure out how to infuse my current life with the things I loved from my old one. And hopefully it will grow to be just as full, and rich, and interesting.

This is just a time of transitions, I suppose.

some poetry and a song for your saturday.

marching in the pride parade.

*Note: none of these photos are mine.  I got them from friends, or pulled them from the event page on facebook. Thanks to all for posting your photos!

This past Sunday, I marched in the Salt Lake City Pride Parade. I had to skip church to go. But it was so worth it.

The experience was very emotional. I am still coming down off the high of having been there, and I am having a hard time finding words to express what it meant to me, but I will do my best.  It was one of those experiences I will remember for a lifetime, I am sure.

My initial decision to attend the parade was a fairly easy one. I have friends who are gay and Mormon. I have heard their stories, and felt their heartbreak at being torn between these two worlds that mean so much to them.  It is heart-wrenching.  Plus, everyone deserves to be loved, respected, cared about, treated fairly. It seems like a no-brainer to me.  I was a little nervous at how we would be received, and so I did think it over for a few days, but when my roommate texted me expressing interest in going, the answer was unequivocally yes.

The night before the parade I began to feel a little more nervous.  Would we be accepted? Would marching even be safe? Would they hate us for taking over their parade? I also felt excited, though.  Excited to step out of my comfort zone a bit, show a little courage, and just be there to show my love and support.  And I was excited to take part with all the other beautiful people and families who were willing to do the same.  I calmed myself down, picked out my best, most Mormon-looking Sunday outfit, and went to bed, anxiously anticipating the parade.

The next morning, we woke up early and carpooled with a couple other friends to downtown Salt Lake City. As we parked and got out of the car, we felt another little explosion of nerves. The leaders of Mormons Building Bridges (the group with which we were marching) had asked us to dress in our most Mormon-looking attire. I was wearing a skirt and cardigan, and carrying my scriptures. My roommate had on a cute light pink dress, knee length with sleeves. Our other friend, a strapless dress with a white t-shirt underneath for modesty (classic, right?).  We knew we would stand out amidst the bright rainbow colors and wild clothing of the parade, and the same fears drifted in... "what if they are angry with us?".  After a moment, we gathered our courage and ventured out of the parking lot, into the crowds.  To our surprise, as we neared the parade line-up, we received a couple encouraging remarks, and sincere "thank yous" from people marching with other groups in the parade.  This buoyed our confidence and settled our nerves a bit, and we continued on excitedly to meet up with the rest of our group.

As we approached, I caught a glimpse of how large the group was. I haven't heard a definitive number on how many were with us, but I've heard estimates from 300 to 475. From what I could tell, we were the largest group in the entire parade (we stayed after we finished marching to watch the rest of the parade).  Everyone was in their suits and ties, little girls had their hair curled, mothers were pushing strollers, surrounded by other children.  Fathers had children perched atop their shoulders, holding signs.  Elderly people were there in wheelchairs or with walkers. It was quite a sight. My heart leapt in pride. We quickly took our places at the back of the lineup.

In the twenty to thirty minutes before we started marching, we saw more and more people come up to thank us for what we were doing.  People from other groups marching in the parade came over and hugged us, thanked us, took pictures with us and our signs.  The excitement and nerves were palpable among us, and it was very hot. We had sweat dripping down our backs before we even started walking, but nothing could have moved us from that line-up. We felt confident, ready.

As soon as we got moving, I noticed people on both sides of us brought to their feet, clapping, cheering. Looks of peace, huge relief, surprise, and excitement on their faces. Any leftover nervousness I felt was gone. Then, as we rounded the first corner, we saw all the parade attendees lined up down the road for blocks, and up went a huge roar (a happy, excited, surprised roar). At that moment I began to feel the emotion welling up within me, and tears sprang to my own eyes as I saw their tears. These people. So many of whom had grown up Mormon and then had to leave their faith behind, with such great pain and struggle. Many of those wounds were still fresh for many, and still painful for most all, I'm sure. I couldn't believe how they were forgiving us.  How readily they loved us.  The pure joy that filled me was tremendous.

As we kept going, and people kept cheering so loudly, and thanking us, I kept thinking "who am I that I deserve the cheers of these people?" All I had done was show up. Humans should love one another, period. That should be an ordinary thing.  Nevertheless we continued onward, handed out lollipops to the children, offered hugs, and shared tears with those who were weeping on the sidelines. I felt I was witnessing the beginning of healing take place. It was a beautiful, beautiful sight.

In the end, I believe that we still have a long way to go. Stepping up to the plate and showing a little Christlike love at the expense of a few nerves and one Sunday at church is a great start.  I only hope that we can continue making progress from here.





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Other coverage you might enjoy:

A summary of several participants thoughts on marching.

An interview with the organizer of Mormons Building Bridges.

News coverage from the actual event, and another article in which I am quoted (and which I feel does a better job of painting a picture of what it felt like to be there).

More video footage taken by Katrina, one of our marchers.

Video by CNN.

Waiting for the parade to start, holding the lollipops we were to hand out, with "Love one another" stickers on them

 You can actually see me in this one! (right third of the photo, brown top, green shoulder bag) I also love the man with the American flag tie, doing the "I love you" sign with his hand

The view from the front of our group (we were right behind the grand marshall of the parade, in the very front)

"No matter what he does, every person on earth plays a central role in the history of the world. And normally he doesn't know it."

~Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

ensalada deliciosa

I made the most delicious salad for lunch today.  While I don't typically share recipes on this blog, I do want to remember what I did today, so that sometime in the future when I am feeling uninspired I can maybe make this same thing.

I threw together:

lettuce
pre-cooked brown rice (leftover from the night before)
black beans (also leftover... I had soaked and boiled up some dry beans a few days before)
fresh tomato
avocado

(I think it would have been really yummy to also add some queso fresco or other cheese, some corn, cilantro... other things of that sort)

then for dressing I just threw on some kosher salt, olive oil*, and lemon juice.

mixed it all together, and voila! Delicious, super easy and fast lunch.





*While we're on the topic of olive oil, you should read this. We recently ran out of olive oil, so when I went to buy some more, I looked for olive oil with those specifications. Sure enough, it is SO delicious! It seriously tastes fruity! And very fresh. Which I love. Plus, fresher equals more nutrition! Woo!

Realizations

Just got back from a trip to Moab with my students and co-workers. We had an awesome time. While I work on writing about that, here are some realizations I've had recently regarding my career explorations.  They maybe seem kind of obvious, but I just recently really learned them for myself:

• I can be and do more than one thing with/in my life.

• Some things can just be hobbies or interests. There are several things that I love, which I don't want to have as a career.

• Just because I am doing one thing now, doesn't mean I have to do that thing and only that thing forever.

• I will change and grow and develop as a person, as time passes, and my needs for a career will change as that happens.  Which just makes life more interesting!

I feel like I've reached a really good place.  Teaching English is perfect. 12 year-olds are fun. Walden is awesome. I love my co-workers.

And teaching. I thought I would never want to be a teacher again.  But coming back to it after a few years of exploration, I can see what a good match it is.  Yes, it can be draining. Yes, planning lessons is sometimes a pain.  But isn't that the case with any job? There will be parts of it I don't like? A huge plus for me, is that I am in control of what happens in my classroom.  I don't have anyone hovering, telling me what to do every second of my day (hallelujah!).  And, there is a ton more social interaction! And I am not sitting at the same desk all day long! ...which I really, really appreciate.

Plus, summer off? I'm totally down with that.

(Today is the last day of school.  Which includes going to Veteran's Memorial Pool for a swim party with all the kids. Pay me to go down waterslides with 12 year olds? Awesome.)

Beautiful.

sometimes i feel like i live in fear of not being able to remember my favorite moments.  beautiful still shots of my life that will pass me by and disappear into the abyss of my memory.

i feel the need to document everything voraciously.  it's maybe a little obsessive.

trying to find a balance.

becoming a real adult.

This is the thing: When you hit 28 or 30, everything begins to divide. You can see very clearly two kinds of people. On one side, people who have used their 20s to learn and grow, to find … themselves and their dreams, people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults. Then there’s the other kind, who are hanging onto college, or high school even, with all their might. They’ve stayed in jobs they hate, because they’re too scared to get another one. They’ve stayed with men or women who are good but not great, because they don’t want to be lonely. … they mean to develop intimate friendships, they mean to stop drinking like life is one big frat party. But they don’t do those things, so they live in an extended adolescence, no closer to adulthood than when they graduated.

Don’t be like that. Don’t get stuck. Move, travel, take a class, take a risk. There is a season for wildness and a season for settledness, and this is neither. This season is about becoming. Don’t lose yourself at happy hour, but don’t lose yourself on the corporate ladder either. Stop every once in a while and go out to coffee or climb in bed with your journal.
Ask yourself some good questions like: “Am I proud of the life I’m living? What have I tried this month? … Do the people I’m spending time with give me life, or make me feel small? Is there any brokenness in my life that’s keeping me from moving forward?”
Now is your time. Walk closely with people you love, and with people who believe … life is a grand adventure. Don’t get stuck in the past, and don’t try to fast-forward yourself into a future you haven’t yet earned. Give today all the love and intensity and courage you can, and keep traveling honestly along life’s path.

— Relevant magazine (via charliebravo)

Reading this, I am so glad I had the sense to realize how important it was that I do this, and the commitment to stick with it.

And I say that deliberately.  My first instinct was to say that I have been "lucky" to be able to do this.  But I don't think that's entirely accurate.  While circumstances did allow, in some sense, I have actually worked (am working) really hard to make sure that I don't get stuck in a rut.  To try my best to make sure that I become a person "who has used their 20s to learn and grow, to find … themselves and their dreams, people who know what works and what doesn’t, who have pushed through to become real live adults."

Initially, the hardest part was coaxing out the courage to make (and stick with) a decision that was maybe not the most practical (not going into the career in which I was trained). I had to remind myself that I was taking some time to explore and try new things.  Experimenting.  But I was motivated by a drive to find my passion, and that kept me going through the hard.

Now, the hardest part is pushing onward.  Doing the hard, day-to-day work of "becoming". Pushing myself.  Always evaluating myself, observing others, finding role models, changing role models, making slight changes to my attitudes, my behavior.  Trying to locate where, exactly, I belong in this world, or where exactly I want to belong in this world. And with my new teaching job, comes the need to become a better teacher.  So there is also that.

Ultimately, though, I am so proud that I am on this path.  As earth-shakingly difficult as it has been at times, I would not take it back.  It is all necessary progress, and all my hard work pays off everyday.  And the more work I do, the more I refine, the better life gets. 

I've realized recently, that if I want to accomplish something, the best way to do that is to just do it.

Don't think about it too hard, don't do too much research in an attempt to get it all right the first time.  And most of all don't get so anxious in thinking about it, that you decide not to do it at all.

Just relax and give it a try.  You can perfect your technique later.  Once you try, you can see where you're lacking, and your fixes will be much more applicable.

I think this is neat.

Happy Mother's Day to all!

equality.

Wow. Wowowow. This is fantastic.

emBodyed

This is just beautiful.  It went viral (more or less) a month or so ago, but I just now read it, finally.

It is an article about a 7-year-old girl, who makes a comment about being fat, and then details her mother's response.

That is the type of mother I would like to be.

-----------------

And on a related note, my good friend Dana recently started a new blog called "emBodyed", which deals with body-image related issues. Click here to go take a look!  I have offered to contribute, so hopefully I'll be writing over there, soon.

Mother Blessing

Once upon a time, I threw a celebration for my close friend Caitlin.

See the lovely post my friend Jen wrote about it, including awesome photos taken by my talented friend Charla.

my dream life

This is my most recent future life predictions, via my old time favorite, M.A.S.H.

You will live in a shack.
You will drive a pink bicycle.
You will marry Ryan Gosling and have 100 kids.
You will be a trapeze artist in Provo.

This sounds mostly perfect. Except for maybe the "living with 100 kids in a shack" part.  But, you know... that Ryan Gosling and I just cannot keep our hands off each other!

riding bikes

My father was right. I probably should move to Portland.



How Bikes Make Cities Cool - Portland

Though, my roommate tells me that Portland has one of the highest unemployment rates in the country.

Hmmm.

Also, this reminds me of the time my brother and I rode the STP.  I was 18 and he was 15.  It was pretty awesome.

Whitney.

Unrelated side note: I love coming home late in the evening to a home that is already warm because we have a programmable thermostat.  It is the coziest thing.



Sunday night, I watched the Oscars.  I am not a die-hard fan of the Oscars, or of Movies, in general, but I enjoyed watching them.  Watching clips of beautiful movies, seeing and hearing people's speeches of gratitude, and the sheer joy and surprise on their faces at having won. The dialogues between actors, and seeing these many actors behave normally, naturally, and as themselves— instead of pretending to be someone else.

During the Oscars there is always a slideshow of any prominent people in film who have passed away over the passage of the year.  One of those, this year, was Whitney Houston.  Being that her death is pretty recent news, I feel like I am still processing the fact that it occurred. I feel a little silly at how sad her death has made me feel, but in thinking it through, I connect it to a story from my childhood.

My grandma and I used to hang out a lot. We'd drive around in her little maroon-colored car and run errands, and get an ice cream cone from McDonald's (and one for the dog, Bradley, in the backseat), and every once in awhile that one song by Whitney Houston would come on the radio.  You know the one. Every time I would hear her smooth voice start in, a capella, on those first measures— my grandma would start in with the same story.

"I'll never forget the time," she'd say, chuckling to herself, "you were just a little kid. Maybe three years old..."

I'd smile and nod, knowingly, ready to hear the story.  Always proud to hear it.

"You were just sitting there in that seat, the one you're sitting in right now..." she'd continue, telling about how I was just hanging out, not seeming to pay much attention, until that one drum beat.  THE drum beat.  The epic drum beat.

"... and all of a sudden out of nowhere, you were just belting."
 

"AND I......WILL ALWAYS, LOVE YOUooooOOOOOooooo..."

Baby Austin, third birthday party. Mastered the squinty toddler smile.

I always appreciated that story, for one reason in particular.

In a way, for me, it has become a vivid example of my inborn vigor, and enthusiasm. My "zest for life", as my grandmother always calls it.  I've recently heard it called "gushing", which I think sounds about right. Overflowing and probably unnecessary excitement over some silly little thing.

And it seems that in some small way, I connect Whitney, herself, with that enthusiastic, overflow-y part of myself.  When I heard the sad news, that story immediately popped into my head, and I felt a loss.  A reminder that childhood doesn't last forever, and that life never stays the same (though some character traits can stick with you, thank goodness).

Sometimes, I just feel like it is so so strange to grow up.

This was beautiful to me, today.

Sojourner

reflections on the VMs, so far

I do not think I was fully prepared for the powerful experience participating in the Vagina Monologues would be. 

Gathering weekly with so many talented, passionate women, and rehearsing together these raw, poignant, monologues has been an absolutely beautiful experience. Several of us participating are not actresses, but regardless, I feel the room fill up with emotion with each monologue.  And I remain in awe at the resilience of women, their power, their courage.  The ability to hope through it all.

Yesterday, a friend with whom I have become reacquainted through the Monologues, shared her own personal experience explaining why this cause, that of sexual violence, rape, and violence against women, is dear to her heart. Read her experience here. All I can say is that I am once again shocked at how many people have been affected by this.  How many people I know personally. Most of these cases don't make the news, but they shake people's lives forever.

3 seconds of fame

I've totally got a line in here.  Not a singing line, a speaking line. Right in the middle. And I may have helped out with the yelling/whispering, too.





p.s. this is done by my friend Colin's band, Tighty Willis (I'm not sure if they update that page. find them on facebook here). 

Hooray!

Home births on the rise in the U.S.

simplifying

Working on simplifying my life a little.

I've been feeling stressed even on my days off from work!  I figured that's probably a bad sign.

In searching for some counsel regarding balance or simplifying, I remembered this gem:



A talk from Elder Uchtdorf, October 2010 General Conference, entitled "Of Things That Matter Most".

Love this talk for a million reasons.

Also, this one by Elder Ballard on a similar subject, is great. 

today was a beautiful day:
work, aka helping breastfeeding moms in the morning
then, to the library book sale (best thing ever)
then to chat it up with a great friend
vagina monologues rehearsal
girl talk with a fellow vagina monologue-r

and now... here i am. 

and i have the house to myself.



this is definitely

a poetry and candlelight kind of night.

Today, I was once again worrying about what I really want to do with my life, if I really do want to do what I think I want to do (will doing what I think I want to do really be as enjoyable to me as I think it will be?), and if/how I'll ever be able to get there.  To that... unknown place.

I also happened to have a song stuck in my head today.  As I pondered casually upon my future, I began to hum and sing the words to that song again:

"Don't you worry your pretty little mind..."

And suddenly, the meaning of that statement really hit me.

Don't worry about it. Everything will work out fine.

Got it.

Those salted chocolate cookies?

Still chewy and fantastic today.


Also, cool news of the day:

I am going to be reading a part in The Vagina Monologues.
It's even the part I wanted to get.  I am excited!

Nervous, but excited.

Sunday afternoons are so delicious.

...Delicious in that I get to sit back, enjoy lots of peaceful quiet time in my pretty living room.

Also delicious in that I often use them to make delicious food to consume.  or to devour, as the case may be.

This afternoon I made the most amazing salted chocolate cookies, which I found here. While you're there, you should check out her lovely blog.  I could peruse it for hours.  So much beautiful real food, beautiful writing, and beautiful photographs.  Plus awesome links to explore.  And, I would love to read her book sometime. Sounds right up my alley.

Speaking of delicious food, I also ate some leftovers of this sweet potato minestrone, which was submitted to the blog by my lovely friend Katie Temus Merrill, which I made last night and ate with this super easy and delicious homemade bread (I work part-time for the woman who writes this blog, by the way) and butter. Yum.

I also spent my afternoon listening to the rest of this excellent podcast on LDS females and sexuality, which I highly recommend to every LDS female everywhere that ever was.  Not to be dramatic. ahem. I had the privilege of attending her lecture last fall in Salt Lake (thank you roommate Elisa's mom!), which was very empowering and a good reminder of many ideas I've heard touched on before in conversations with my friends. What a blessing her research is and has been to so many!  Sheesh. There are so many amazing women for me to look up to in this world, and in my LDS community.  I never cease to be impressed by the amazing women I am surrounded by who are always seeking after truth, after progress, after the best versions of themselves, and who aren't afraid to rock the boat a little bit at times. (If you want more resources regarding LDS females and sexuality, check out the links in the description of the podcast.  Lots of interesting info there, as well.)

Finally, as I listened to the podcast above, and ideas of vulnerability and it's role in building relationships came up, I was reminded of this inspiring TED talk by Brené Brown, called The Power of Vulnerability, which I have embedded below for your enjoyment and enlightenment! That, in my opinion, is also delicious. 



Happy Sunday, everyone! 

"Sometimes I dream of a tree, and the tree is my life.

One branch is the man I shall marry, and leaves my children.

Another branch is my future as a writer and each leaf is a poem.

Another branch is a glittering academic career.

But as I sit there trying to choose,

The leaves begin to turn brown and blow away

Until the tree is absolutely bare."

-The Tree of Life, Sylvia Plath

New Year's Eve, and other thoughts.

Over the last couple of years, I have taken to spending New Year's Eve alone.

It took me awhile to admit it to myself, but I am just not a big party kind of person.  I will nearly always prefer cozy gatherings with close, trusted, friends.

And especially on New Year's Eve, it doesn't feel right.  Being the final night, the 365th day of a year that will never come again... it just seems as though it should be spent pondering.   Meditating.  Communing with my deepest self, and determining who I am, where I have been.  Congratulating myself on what I have accomplished, and confidently addressing things I could have done better.

I ask myself a variety of questions, but it all comes back to this:


Does my soul feel full?



And so, on this last New Year's Eve that transitioned us into the year two thousand twelve, I lit some candles, turned on the Christmas tree lights, and cozied up with a blanket and these beautiful videos of spoken word poems by Sarah Kay*.

I noticed the time at about 11:50, and meant to go turn on the television to watch the ball drop and the year turn, but was quickly and easily dissuaded by another poem, and then forgot about time altogether.

When I heard a sudden burst of explosions and loud shouting outside, and I jumped up and ran out the front door to enjoy the excitement.  As my home is situated on the mountainside, I am lucky enough to have a wide view of the valley below, which on this particular night included a fireworks display, spread across the panoramic view, from homes of every sort.


A few minutes later, on the north end of the valley, I noticed numerous slow-moving, fire-colored dots.  I stood there, staring, a little startled. For the life of me, I could not figure out what they were.

Then, a moment of clarity.  Paper lanterns.

I stood for several minutes, barefoot on the cold cement sidewalk in front of my house— my toes and fingers tingly, my cheeks turning pink. The cloud of golden-orange lights expanding, rising, ever increasing in number.  It felt so peaceful, yet momentous. Legendary. The only first few moments of the year 2012 that would ever exist. And there was I, standing, breathing in the moment deeply.  There was I, experiencing them.





*That poetry absolutely mesmerizes me.  How beautiful and poignant, those moments and insights she captures. I aspire to be able to craft my words in such an elegant way. There are so many wonderful poems, but these are some that touched me.