Thought-provoking question of the day: How on earth do we know that clams are happy??
Thoughts on the subject are welcome.
I'm blogging more, I've noticed. I think there's a correlation between how happy/contented with life I am and how likely I am to write it down. And let me tell you, I'm happy right now. I don't really feel particularly bubbly or giddy or anything like that, but I'd rate my overall life satisfaction pretty high.
Here are some of the reasons:
I got to talk to Brian yesterday while he was on his layover in Houston between the MTC and Puebla. It was only for a couple of minutes, because he was just about to board the plane (visit his blog to see Mom's thoughts from their much-longer conversation), but we didn't need much more than that. The funny thing is, we can converse endlessly in person or through letters, but stick us on the phone and we somehow run out of things to say really quickly. So the exchange of "Love you"s and "See you in two years" and flight details was more than enough for us. Both of us are chatty writers (me more than him--shocker, I know), and that's where we'll get our conversation-fixes for the next two years.
I've had a family-overdose this weekend. For the first holiday since I've been at BYU, both sides of my family remembered to invite me and their parties didn't overlap, so I could make it to both: Dinner on Sunday with the Jacksons (no Jackson family waterfight... this time) and swimming/barbecue/deliciousness in Heber with my mom's side of the family yesterday. As one might expect from extended family, I had to put up with all the nosy relationship questions, belated (or just repeated) congratulations on the Ensign internship, and currently-unanswerable questions about what I'm doing with my future, but I did it good-naturedly, of course. It might be a little bit vain, but, thanks to the Ensign internship, my impending graduation, etc., I'm something of a novelty among my family members right now, and I won't deny that I enjoy the attention. It's nice to have everybody focus on you every now and then, you know?
My roommates are all home again. Savannah was gone for a week for her brother's wedding in Missouri and, while I liked having my own room and full control of the lightswitch and the floorspace, I really did miss her. She crawled up on my bunk last night for some girl talk and my whole world felt right again. Stephanie also went away for the weekend, and it wasn't until we were flopped on the couch with each other, watching a movie that I fully realized how quiet my apartment had been all weekend. These girls are my soulmates, and life is just better with them in it. (And don't get me wrong, spending extra time with Aubry this weekend was totally awesome. I love her too. It just feels nice to have all four of us back together again.)
I'm on a regular workout schedule, which does multiple things: 1) I feel healthier and therefore more confident, which obviously generates increased happiness (whoa, I sounded like a Wellness program commercial there... work is rubbing off on me) 2) It's easier to wake up in the mornings and get stuff done before work, 3) Eating healthy comes a bit more naturally, since I crave less junk food when I work out, 4) Let's be honest, it feels amazing to drop a big number of repetitions when you could barely do five repetitions a couple of weeks before that--there's a sense of accomplishment.
Speaking of healthy things, here's one that isn't good for me, but I'm so looking forward to it: my Tucano's free-birthday-meal-coupon-thing came in the mail this last week, which means I'm getting Tucano's sometime this month, which is just plain awesome. It's only my favorite restaurant.
Overall, I just have an increased confidence in my future. You know how sometimes, it feels like you're just slogging through the hard times, hoping that there's a light at the end of the tunnel and that things will get easier soon? Well, I feel like I'm coming out of that right now. For whatever reason, things that I wouldn't have expected or dared to hope for are suddenly becoming very real and reachable.
I feel like things are falling into place, which probably has more to do with the fact that I've been doing better at improving my use of time and my commitment to the really important things than with sheer coincidence. It's been my experience that the more seemlessly we fit ourselves into God's plan for us, the more we feel like all the pieces of life fall into place, because we start seeing things from His perspective instead of our own. And recently, I've been trying really hard to let go of all my personal expectations and just do what I can to make my life, and the lives of others, better.
I'll tell you this: it's very hard to do. I've given up and started over so many times (and I'm still nowhere near good at it), but eventually, personal pride and selfishness wears down and teachableness kicks in. Once that happens, the Lord takes over and starts pointing you down roads that you're surprised you didn't notice before. It's definitely worth the continuous effort.
So, assuming that clams really are as happy as we think they are, I'm as happy as the best of those happy clams. :)
31 May 2011
29 May 2011
Creativity
So I was talking to my dad tonight: we were pondering the meaning of life (or, more specifically, the meaning of all this education-stuff I've gotten in the last 22 years) and trying to reignite the passion I feel for editing. See, perhaps as a strange side-effect of my looming graduation, my psyche seems to have decided to have a mid-life crisis... BEFORE life actually happens. Pre-emptive, but not very helpful. So cue all the doubts about loving what I do, am I really in the right career, do I want to spend my life doing this stuff, maybe I should quit and go to beauty school, yada yada yada. You get the picture.
So Dad reminds me that, hey Lynnae, you really do love this stuff, remember? What do you love about it?
And I got to thinking.
What I love most about editing is being a part of creating something beautiful. A book (or a magazine) is just as much a work of art as, well, a work of art. The editor is not the sculptor who takes the raw clay and fashions it into something, but rather the... okay, so I can't think of a good sculpting metaphor for an editor. Back to simple summation: the editor takes the author's work and finishes it. There's a refining process that all books must go through (though I suspect, judging by the quality of some literature, that not all of them do...) to take them from merely acceptable to truly memorable pieces of work. Authors do a lot of this work themselves, but often under an editor's watchful eye and helping hand.
I love being a part of that. I love working with authors, watching them improve, learning from them, and ultimately, working together to create something we both can be proud of. (Which is why, in some of the technical editing I've been doing, my morale has been suffering: the people I edit for only care about lack of errors and acceptable printability, rather than the art of making something read beautifully. It gets hard to pour your heart into something that even the creator doesn't care about.)
To my surprise, my dad understood exactly how I felt. He began to tell me about how he loved using physics modeling software to re-create the world around him, making it as realistic as possible. It was thrilling for him to take the basic tools of physics, mathematics, and software and use them to build a virtual reproduction of his literal world. To him, that was beautiful.
And then I got to thinking again. (I know, right?)
I thought about all the different things people have told me about why they love what they do. It doesn't matter what it was: designing a successful ad campaign, saving a life, raising a family, becoming a teacher, programming a computer, training for a race, you name it. When it comes down to why people love doing what they do, it always taps into the power of creation.
What follows is the Doctrine of Lynnae. Don't take it for 100% truth. It's a working-epiphany I had with my dad tonight, but I thought I'd share it.
We tend to think of creation in a limited sense: the cosmically miraculous way God created the earth, or the creation-process of bringing actual life into the world, or an author developing a new world for people to get lost in. A lot of times we forget that we can utilize our God-given powers of creation in a million different ways. And because creation is a trait inherited through our divine lineage, we are drawn towards it. When you find people who absolutely love what they do, it's because they are involved in creating.
Writing a new computer program that solves a problem better or faster than the program before. Using medicine to create healthy new cells where only diseased ones existed. Taking simple, unassuming ingredients and creating a culinary masterpiece. Assisting in the development of young minds as they learn about the world around them. Training a body to run faster, work harder, or endure longer.
So what about people who don't love what they do? I suspect they just haven't delved deep enough into their field to find where the creative processes are actively at work. Or perhaps they are better suited to creating in another field and chose money or job-security over doing something that they were truly good at.
It's all about creating. About making something better out of the materials we're given to work with. It doesn't matter how rough or how refined those materials are when they get into our hands. When we improve upon them, we are contributing to the creative process.
Even if, as President Uchtdorf once said, we are simply creating smiles.
So Dad reminds me that, hey Lynnae, you really do love this stuff, remember? What do you love about it?
And I got to thinking.
What I love most about editing is being a part of creating something beautiful. A book (or a magazine) is just as much a work of art as, well, a work of art. The editor is not the sculptor who takes the raw clay and fashions it into something, but rather the... okay, so I can't think of a good sculpting metaphor for an editor. Back to simple summation: the editor takes the author's work and finishes it. There's a refining process that all books must go through (though I suspect, judging by the quality of some literature, that not all of them do...) to take them from merely acceptable to truly memorable pieces of work. Authors do a lot of this work themselves, but often under an editor's watchful eye and helping hand.
I love being a part of that. I love working with authors, watching them improve, learning from them, and ultimately, working together to create something we both can be proud of. (Which is why, in some of the technical editing I've been doing, my morale has been suffering: the people I edit for only care about lack of errors and acceptable printability, rather than the art of making something read beautifully. It gets hard to pour your heart into something that even the creator doesn't care about.)
To my surprise, my dad understood exactly how I felt. He began to tell me about how he loved using physics modeling software to re-create the world around him, making it as realistic as possible. It was thrilling for him to take the basic tools of physics, mathematics, and software and use them to build a virtual reproduction of his literal world. To him, that was beautiful.
And then I got to thinking again. (I know, right?)
I thought about all the different things people have told me about why they love what they do. It doesn't matter what it was: designing a successful ad campaign, saving a life, raising a family, becoming a teacher, programming a computer, training for a race, you name it. When it comes down to why people love doing what they do, it always taps into the power of creation.
What follows is the Doctrine of Lynnae. Don't take it for 100% truth. It's a working-epiphany I had with my dad tonight, but I thought I'd share it.
We tend to think of creation in a limited sense: the cosmically miraculous way God created the earth, or the creation-process of bringing actual life into the world, or an author developing a new world for people to get lost in. A lot of times we forget that we can utilize our God-given powers of creation in a million different ways. And because creation is a trait inherited through our divine lineage, we are drawn towards it. When you find people who absolutely love what they do, it's because they are involved in creating.
Writing a new computer program that solves a problem better or faster than the program before. Using medicine to create healthy new cells where only diseased ones existed. Taking simple, unassuming ingredients and creating a culinary masterpiece. Assisting in the development of young minds as they learn about the world around them. Training a body to run faster, work harder, or endure longer.
So what about people who don't love what they do? I suspect they just haven't delved deep enough into their field to find where the creative processes are actively at work. Or perhaps they are better suited to creating in another field and chose money or job-security over doing something that they were truly good at.
It's all about creating. About making something better out of the materials we're given to work with. It doesn't matter how rough or how refined those materials are when they get into our hands. When we improve upon them, we are contributing to the creative process.
Even if, as President Uchtdorf once said, we are simply creating smiles.
27 May 2011
New Guys and Nosy Friends
I may or may not have had a conversation with a friend recently that went remarkably like this, providing in "this" you substitute genders where necessary:
On second thought, there may have been several conversations that have gone like this. Hooray for new semesters...
...
Some of them may or may not have involved me being Calvin.
Calvin's truthfulness is subject to your interpretation.
Calvin's truthfulness is subject to your interpretation.
25 May 2011
The Good Things List
These are some of the good/awesome things in my life right now. Thought I'd share. :)
My birthday is soon. As in, a week from tomorrow soon.
We're going hiking in the lava tubes down south of here in a couple of weeks
I actually have Memorial Day plans, thanks to my loving family who remembered that I live in Utah
I have a busy weekend planned, which is a first in a long time.
I get to see Qait on Friday, as part of that weekend.
I've been doing about 300 crunches/sit-ups/other variations a day for about a week now and my abs are starting to feel awesome.
Stephanie and I have been connecting movies by shared actors and have managed to fit almost all of both our collections into the web. It's an impressive feat, especially since we did it without IMDb, thanks to the internet being down. Now we're watching them. Because we can.
We're also doubling our book collections by reading each other's books. That's fun too.
Brian leaves the MTC in just a few days. I'm stoked for him.
I spent two and a half hours today discussing hero archetypes in The Dark Knight with my class, and our intelligent discussion got us out of one of the papers on the syllabus. So now we just have to write the final paper and I'm home-free.
I have a Milka chocolate bar in my backpack... instant happiness. ^_^
I recently found the most beautiful set of Alan-Lee-illustrated, hardcover, glossy-paged editions of Lord of the Rings and I just about melted into a puddle of happiness right there. I want them. I need them. I'm completely in love with them.
My birthday is soon. As in, a week from tomorrow soon.
We're going hiking in the lava tubes down south of here in a couple of weeks
I actually have Memorial Day plans, thanks to my loving family who remembered that I live in Utah
I have a busy weekend planned, which is a first in a long time.
I get to see Qait on Friday, as part of that weekend.
I've been doing about 300 crunches/sit-ups/other variations a day for about a week now and my abs are starting to feel awesome.
Stephanie and I have been connecting movies by shared actors and have managed to fit almost all of both our collections into the web. It's an impressive feat, especially since we did it without IMDb, thanks to the internet being down. Now we're watching them. Because we can.
We're also doubling our book collections by reading each other's books. That's fun too.
Brian leaves the MTC in just a few days. I'm stoked for him.
I spent two and a half hours today discussing hero archetypes in The Dark Knight with my class, and our intelligent discussion got us out of one of the papers on the syllabus. So now we just have to write the final paper and I'm home-free.
I have a Milka chocolate bar in my backpack... instant happiness. ^_^
I recently found the most beautiful set of Alan-Lee-illustrated, hardcover, glossy-paged editions of Lord of the Rings and I just about melted into a puddle of happiness right there. I want them. I need them. I'm completely in love with them.
24 May 2011
Boo Internet
Sorry I haven't written in a while. There are crazy men pounding around crap on our roof right now (okay, maybe they're not crazy--I'm sure it's something really important to the welfare of our apartment building, but the construction sucks anyway). Unfortunately, in their pounding, they seem to have messed up our connection to the internet servers, so the internet has been down in our complex for several days, and usually I'm at home when I want to write something. Therefore: no posts. That and I might be just a little bit lazy.
But you're in luck, because I'm wasting time on the internet right now while I'm on break at work. Which means that y'all actually get to hear from me. Lucky you. Or something like that. I feel bad about not blogging as often as I used to. Either I'm running out of ideas and feeling unclever, or my life is just boring and uneventful at the moment.
The latter is not true.
I have a lot to think about at the moment, because my hereditary sinus infections (the ones that prove I'm not adopted, remember?) have gotten worse and now I think I might be getting surgery on my nose and sinus passages to make it all better. Which, considering my fear of needles and sharp pointy things near my face, is not an appealing thought at all. But yeah. That particular condition is seeping into every nook and cranny of my life: it messes with my sleep, keeps me home from work, makes me look less alert and functional than normal, etc.
On the bright side, the rest of my life is actually pretty good. My calling in church is way fun (and much less stressful now that the FHE groups are organized), I'm a lot more social than I used to be and have therefore learned that the girls (and guys) in my ward are awesome. There's some serious eye candy living in my apartment complex. It's completely impractical for me to even consider dating right now, since I'm jetting out of here in three months, but I do like looking at some of these guys every Sunday. (And just to clarify that I'm not objectifying men: part of what makes these guys such great eye candy is the fact that they're funny, smart, and really friendly, so it's fun to be around them).
Oh, and my birthday is like a week from Thursday, which I totally didn't realize until yesterday, when I was looking at my calendar. I kind of sort of forgot about it. It was off in that hazy somedayland.
I also have about 3 1/2 weeks left of school. Ever. Seriously.
Cool, no?
But you're in luck, because I'm wasting time on the internet right now while I'm on break at work. Which means that y'all actually get to hear from me. Lucky you. Or something like that. I feel bad about not blogging as often as I used to. Either I'm running out of ideas and feeling unclever, or my life is just boring and uneventful at the moment.
The latter is not true.
I have a lot to think about at the moment, because my hereditary sinus infections (the ones that prove I'm not adopted, remember?) have gotten worse and now I think I might be getting surgery on my nose and sinus passages to make it all better. Which, considering my fear of needles and sharp pointy things near my face, is not an appealing thought at all. But yeah. That particular condition is seeping into every nook and cranny of my life: it messes with my sleep, keeps me home from work, makes me look less alert and functional than normal, etc.
On the bright side, the rest of my life is actually pretty good. My calling in church is way fun (and much less stressful now that the FHE groups are organized), I'm a lot more social than I used to be and have therefore learned that the girls (and guys) in my ward are awesome. There's some serious eye candy living in my apartment complex. It's completely impractical for me to even consider dating right now, since I'm jetting out of here in three months, but I do like looking at some of these guys every Sunday. (And just to clarify that I'm not objectifying men: part of what makes these guys such great eye candy is the fact that they're funny, smart, and really friendly, so it's fun to be around them).
Oh, and my birthday is like a week from Thursday, which I totally didn't realize until yesterday, when I was looking at my calendar. I kind of sort of forgot about it. It was off in that hazy somedayland.
I also have about 3 1/2 weeks left of school. Ever. Seriously.
Cool, no?
13 May 2011
Sometimes I Suck as a Sister
Ah! I'm a sucky sister sometimes. Yesterday was Jessa's birthday, and I didn't even call her. I didn't realize it until today. She's 17. Holycrap. I feel so old (a feeling that wasn't helped by the discovery of a couple of strands of long silvery hair in my bangs yesterday morning--I'm too young to go grey!) I also failed to get Brian a letter before his P-day. That makes two weeks the poor boy has gone without getting a letter from me. Granted, I never promised to write him every single week, but it was kind of an unspoken expectation on both sides, I think. So now I feel bad.
Ohmygosh. My sister is seventeen. I remember turning seventeen! That was like, yesterday. Okay, so it was actually five years ago, but it feels so recent. I was seventeen when I started at BYU, in fact. Only for a couple of months, but I was.
I'm proud of my Jessa, though. She's come so far from the unsure, somewhat awkward little twelve-year-old that she was when I left for college. As Brian and I have both left the house, she's found the space she needed to grow into her own skin and find out just what a talented, beautiful young woman she is.
And she did it in spite of all the times we tormented her when we were kids. I'll be honest, I wasn't always very nice to my only little sister. I'm not proud of it. Brian and I often tormented or provoked her (and often got in trouble for it) when she was little. But she's grown up in spite of it, and as she reaches maturity, the age-gap between us feels so much smaller. It's taken a long time, but these days, when I talk to her on the phone and spend time with her when I'm at home, I catch wonderful glimpses of the kind of friends we're becoming.
As a teen, I knew that my sister and I didn't get along. She drove me crazy, but I always knew at the back of my mind that it wouldn't be that way forever. One day, we would both be adults, and the friendship we always knew we should have would grow and blossom. I'm so grateful that it's reaching that point. I've never liked being at odds with my little sister. Happy Birthday, Jessa. Even if it is one day late, I still love you.
And I will write Brian a letter this week. Time to get back to being a good big sister. :)
Ohmygosh. My sister is seventeen. I remember turning seventeen! That was like, yesterday. Okay, so it was actually five years ago, but it feels so recent. I was seventeen when I started at BYU, in fact. Only for a couple of months, but I was.
I'm proud of my Jessa, though. She's come so far from the unsure, somewhat awkward little twelve-year-old that she was when I left for college. As Brian and I have both left the house, she's found the space she needed to grow into her own skin and find out just what a talented, beautiful young woman she is.
And she did it in spite of all the times we tormented her when we were kids. I'll be honest, I wasn't always very nice to my only little sister. I'm not proud of it. Brian and I often tormented or provoked her (and often got in trouble for it) when she was little. But she's grown up in spite of it, and as she reaches maturity, the age-gap between us feels so much smaller. It's taken a long time, but these days, when I talk to her on the phone and spend time with her when I'm at home, I catch wonderful glimpses of the kind of friends we're becoming.
As a teen, I knew that my sister and I didn't get along. She drove me crazy, but I always knew at the back of my mind that it wouldn't be that way forever. One day, we would both be adults, and the friendship we always knew we should have would grow and blossom. I'm so grateful that it's reaching that point. I've never liked being at odds with my little sister. Happy Birthday, Jessa. Even if it is one day late, I still love you.
And I will write Brian a letter this week. Time to get back to being a good big sister. :)
09 May 2011
Fashion Blog: Ha!
So guys, I wore this totally cute outfit today. It just screams fashion:
I mean, don't you just see it and think SPRING! I know I do. And I know you're totally jealous of the pose, but it's really very easy. Posing is so key to modeling fashionable wear. It's about showing how you feel when you wear those clothes.
Okay, okay, I can't do it anymore. I tried. I really tried. I simply cannot write a fashion post. I'm fresh out of things to say.
So allow me to 'splain. This is my anti-fashion-blog post. Mostly out of boredom, and because I do occasionally run out of things to write about. The short version of this story is that I felt the desire to poke light fun at those "fashion blogs" where girls post pictures of themselves everyday and tell people where to find those clothes. Aside from thinking that this is a ridiculous and costly habit for any starving college student, I think that some of them that are so insipid and nauseating, that I felt like letting off a little steam after reading them.
Don't get me wrong, I really don't mind fashion advice; I usually make a concerted effort everyday to dress up and look well-groomed (please note the post-Church hair and makeup--well, actually, you can't see it in this picture, but it's there). I like looking nice, and I respect other people who make an effort to look nice. But the underlying theme of a lot of the fashion blogs I've stumbled across is that if your clothes aren't name brand, they're not good enough. So I went anti and did all of the things that you never see in those fashion blogs: hand-me-down clothes, cheap shoes, and a blatantly ridiculous pose (although it's actually not too far off from some of the ones I've seen).
Basically, I was bored. And feeling a little rebellious towards the world of fashionistas. Also, looking at this picture, I really want my hair cut again. Thought you should know.
 |
| Shirt: First Year Girl's Camp, Pants: Hand-me-downs from my bestie, Shoes: $8 Airwalks from ShopKo, Raindrops: Free |
Okay, okay, I can't do it anymore. I tried. I really tried. I simply cannot write a fashion post. I'm fresh out of things to say.
So allow me to 'splain. This is my anti-fashion-blog post. Mostly out of boredom, and because I do occasionally run out of things to write about. The short version of this story is that I felt the desire to poke light fun at those "fashion blogs" where girls post pictures of themselves everyday and tell people where to find those clothes. Aside from thinking that this is a ridiculous and costly habit for any starving college student, I think that some of them that are so insipid and nauseating, that I felt like letting off a little steam after reading them.
Don't get me wrong, I really don't mind fashion advice; I usually make a concerted effort everyday to dress up and look well-groomed (please note the post-Church hair and makeup--well, actually, you can't see it in this picture, but it's there). I like looking nice, and I respect other people who make an effort to look nice. But the underlying theme of a lot of the fashion blogs I've stumbled across is that if your clothes aren't name brand, they're not good enough. So I went anti and did all of the things that you never see in those fashion blogs: hand-me-down clothes, cheap shoes, and a blatantly ridiculous pose (although it's actually not too far off from some of the ones I've seen).
Basically, I was bored. And feeling a little rebellious towards the world of fashionistas. Also, looking at this picture, I really want my hair cut again. Thought you should know.
08 May 2011
One Good Woman
Life is hard. Things go wrong and fall apart. We cry. We get our hearts broken. Our dreams evaporate in front of us. But in my life, I've always had the support of one amazing woman who gets me through everything.
She answers my late-night calls and sits up with me when I need a good cry.
She sends me notes filled with love and reassurance at the most unexpected and most opportune moments.
She believes in me when my own faith grows frail and weak in the face of trials.
She celebrates with me when I accomplish something.
She never, ever holds me back from my dreams, no matter how far they may take me away from her.
Never once, has she turned away from me when I needed her.
My mother. Hands down the most wonderful woman in the world. She is a powerful example of the influence one good woman can have on the lives of the people around her. I can't begin to name the people whose lives she's blessed, because no matter where we live, or how long we live there, she reaches out to everyone around her.
The young women of the Westland ward. I still remember climbing over backyard fences and ducking behind bushes as she took them (and five-year-old me) ding-dong ditching with plates of goodies. Some of her girls were my favorite babysitters.
The youth of the Lapeer ward. I remember watching her pour herself into her Sunday School lessons as she tried so hard to reach those quiet, reserved 12 & 13 year olds.
All the women of the Bettendorf ward. I watched her pray over her women and organize Visiting Teaching on a big silver magnetic board. I learned from her to always seek the Lord's counsel in our callings. She also blessed all the young college families in that ward. I can't remember very many Sundays when we didn't have someone over to our house to share Sunday dinner with us. She was always so willing to share our bounty with those around us.
I wish I could go on about her California and Texas wards, but I haven't spent much time there now that I'm out here at school. Naturally, I never hear anything but glowing reports from women in Relief Society about how wonderful my mom is. They may not know me, and I don't know them, but they know my mom, and they always love her.
My family. My friends. People I barely know. I have never met anyone who didn't have something wonderful to say about my mother. She is fun, she is loving, she is faithful. So many of my crucial life lessons have been taught to me by her.
And she's my best friend. When I was 13, we went for a late-night swim in our neighborhood swimming pool. It was just the two of us, and I remember us laughing at the big, clumsy junebugs dive-bombing the water and struggling until we flicked them out. All of a sudden, she snuck up on me and dunked me right under the water, laughing the whole time. I came up for air and she came after me again, and we began a game of tag all around that pool. That was the first time I met Marcy, the woman behind "Mom." As we dried off, we had a long talk about things that I don't remember now, but that was the moment that we were no longer just mother and daughter; now we were friends, too.
Ever since then, my mom has been my confidante, my guide, my mentor, and my example. She never failed to discipline me or to correct my errors, but she also never failed to show me how much she loved me. Because of that, I learned that there was nothing I could ever do to push her away. I trust the unfailingness of her love more than I trust the sun to rise everyday. Because someday the sun may stop rising, but I am sealed to my mother for eternity, and her love for me extends into that infinity.
Her constant faith in me, her ability to see my potential when I'm drowning in my own doubts has given me a clearer understanding of how my Heavenly Father sees me. I understand that it is entirely possible for someone to love me, no matter how despicable I may feel at the time, because I see it every day in my mother (my father, too, but this is Mother's Day: it's about mom). I haven't committed any grave sins in my life, but I've made my share of whopper mistakes. Through it all, she has never treated me with anything but the utmost love, pushing me to be a better person.
All it takes is one good woman to create a big change in the world. When I look out and see my potential, what I hope to accomplish, I see a way that my mother will be able to change the world. My younger brother, a brilliant scientific mind and an incredibly faithful missionary, has an even brighter future than I do. He is going to do great things with his life. My younger sister, with all her love and nurturing power. My baby brothers, whose futures are still open books. All of us will make a difference, and that is only possible because we have been raised and taught by one good woman.
She answers my late-night calls and sits up with me when I need a good cry.
She sends me notes filled with love and reassurance at the most unexpected and most opportune moments.
She believes in me when my own faith grows frail and weak in the face of trials.
She celebrates with me when I accomplish something.
She never, ever holds me back from my dreams, no matter how far they may take me away from her.
Never once, has she turned away from me when I needed her.
My mother. Hands down the most wonderful woman in the world. She is a powerful example of the influence one good woman can have on the lives of the people around her. I can't begin to name the people whose lives she's blessed, because no matter where we live, or how long we live there, she reaches out to everyone around her.
The young women of the Westland ward. I still remember climbing over backyard fences and ducking behind bushes as she took them (and five-year-old me) ding-dong ditching with plates of goodies. Some of her girls were my favorite babysitters.
The youth of the Lapeer ward. I remember watching her pour herself into her Sunday School lessons as she tried so hard to reach those quiet, reserved 12 & 13 year olds.
All the women of the Bettendorf ward. I watched her pray over her women and organize Visiting Teaching on a big silver magnetic board. I learned from her to always seek the Lord's counsel in our callings. She also blessed all the young college families in that ward. I can't remember very many Sundays when we didn't have someone over to our house to share Sunday dinner with us. She was always so willing to share our bounty with those around us.
I wish I could go on about her California and Texas wards, but I haven't spent much time there now that I'm out here at school. Naturally, I never hear anything but glowing reports from women in Relief Society about how wonderful my mom is. They may not know me, and I don't know them, but they know my mom, and they always love her.
My family. My friends. People I barely know. I have never met anyone who didn't have something wonderful to say about my mother. She is fun, she is loving, she is faithful. So many of my crucial life lessons have been taught to me by her.
And she's my best friend. When I was 13, we went for a late-night swim in our neighborhood swimming pool. It was just the two of us, and I remember us laughing at the big, clumsy junebugs dive-bombing the water and struggling until we flicked them out. All of a sudden, she snuck up on me and dunked me right under the water, laughing the whole time. I came up for air and she came after me again, and we began a game of tag all around that pool. That was the first time I met Marcy, the woman behind "Mom." As we dried off, we had a long talk about things that I don't remember now, but that was the moment that we were no longer just mother and daughter; now we were friends, too.
Ever since then, my mom has been my confidante, my guide, my mentor, and my example. She never failed to discipline me or to correct my errors, but she also never failed to show me how much she loved me. Because of that, I learned that there was nothing I could ever do to push her away. I trust the unfailingness of her love more than I trust the sun to rise everyday. Because someday the sun may stop rising, but I am sealed to my mother for eternity, and her love for me extends into that infinity.
Her constant faith in me, her ability to see my potential when I'm drowning in my own doubts has given me a clearer understanding of how my Heavenly Father sees me. I understand that it is entirely possible for someone to love me, no matter how despicable I may feel at the time, because I see it every day in my mother (my father, too, but this is Mother's Day: it's about mom). I haven't committed any grave sins in my life, but I've made my share of whopper mistakes. Through it all, she has never treated me with anything but the utmost love, pushing me to be a better person.
All it takes is one good woman to create a big change in the world. When I look out and see my potential, what I hope to accomplish, I see a way that my mother will be able to change the world. My younger brother, a brilliant scientific mind and an incredibly faithful missionary, has an even brighter future than I do. He is going to do great things with his life. My younger sister, with all her love and nurturing power. My baby brothers, whose futures are still open books. All of us will make a difference, and that is only possible because we have been raised and taught by one good woman.
06 May 2011
Take That, Mr. Know-it-All
So, I may have neglected to mention that I'm actually taking two classes this term. Obviously the only one that matters is my senior capstone, and fortunately for me, I love it. But see, I started college early, didn't have any AP credits (because I graduated from high school early and never took the tests), and never changed my major. Which means I have a unique and slightly amusing problem: I have 119.5 credits. I need 120 in order to graduate. So I cruised through the class offerings for Spring until I found a 1-credit course to take: Student Development 100 (Essential College Skills). Hahahahaha. Seriously. I really am taking it. The irony makes every class hilarious to me.
(Side note: it occurred to me--after the add/drop deadline--that the religion department has some 1-credit classes like "Islam and Christianity" or "Judaism and Christianity" that would have been really interesting to take, but alas, it's too late to change that now.)
Anyway, it is slightly interesting to learn about basic study skills and put my college career through a litmus test to see how I did. The funny thing is, in class this last week, the professor was adamant that students can only study/do homework for about 20 minutes before their attention starts to wander. Therefore, if studying for a long amount of time, it's wise to change subjects every half hour or so. So he told us that when we create our weekly schedules, he doesn't want to see three hours of the same studying in a row. Ha.
Well, I have news for you, Mr. Smartypants. I spent eight hours last night doing the exact same homework. Without a break. You can argue with me if you want, but it doesn't make it less true.
Granted, I agree with the principle of the thing. If I'm plowing through biology homework or something, (which I haven't done in about two and a half years) my attention span isn't that great. Changing it up every half hour to 45 minutes would probably be nice. But I'm not in those classes anymore.
His rigid study policy doesn't allow for those especially creative/mentally stimulating kinds of homework. If my homework is related to editing, design, or reading something interesting (yes, even research--a lot of times it's more interesting than the original text) I can easily get lost in it for hours and hours.
Last night I was reading The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown for my capstone course. It's not due for another week or so, but my professor recommended we get started on reading it while we finished up with Inception. I'd intended to just "get started" but eight hours later, I put down the finished book (complete with sticky notes highlighting Jungian principles wherever I found them). It felt great. I love getting lost in a new story. And if my roommates were worried that I wasn't in a good mood, I apologize. It was just hard to extract myself from the world of words in front of me long enough to respond to their questions.
20-minute attention span? Pah. Not when it comes to doing the things I love. Although, I may only spend 20 minutes at a time on homework for his class. We shall see.
(Side note: it occurred to me--after the add/drop deadline--that the religion department has some 1-credit classes like "Islam and Christianity" or "Judaism and Christianity" that would have been really interesting to take, but alas, it's too late to change that now.)
Anyway, it is slightly interesting to learn about basic study skills and put my college career through a litmus test to see how I did. The funny thing is, in class this last week, the professor was adamant that students can only study/do homework for about 20 minutes before their attention starts to wander. Therefore, if studying for a long amount of time, it's wise to change subjects every half hour or so. So he told us that when we create our weekly schedules, he doesn't want to see three hours of the same studying in a row. Ha.
Well, I have news for you, Mr. Smartypants. I spent eight hours last night doing the exact same homework. Without a break. You can argue with me if you want, but it doesn't make it less true.
Granted, I agree with the principle of the thing. If I'm plowing through biology homework or something, (which I haven't done in about two and a half years) my attention span isn't that great. Changing it up every half hour to 45 minutes would probably be nice. But I'm not in those classes anymore.
His rigid study policy doesn't allow for those especially creative/mentally stimulating kinds of homework. If my homework is related to editing, design, or reading something interesting (yes, even research--a lot of times it's more interesting than the original text) I can easily get lost in it for hours and hours.
Last night I was reading The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown for my capstone course. It's not due for another week or so, but my professor recommended we get started on reading it while we finished up with Inception. I'd intended to just "get started" but eight hours later, I put down the finished book (complete with sticky notes highlighting Jungian principles wherever I found them). It felt great. I love getting lost in a new story. And if my roommates were worried that I wasn't in a good mood, I apologize. It was just hard to extract myself from the world of words in front of me long enough to respond to their questions.
20-minute attention span? Pah. Not when it comes to doing the things I love. Although, I may only spend 20 minutes at a time on homework for his class. We shall see.
02 May 2011
Finishing with a Bang
So I've been meaning to update for quite a few days now, but I keep getting distracted by my homework. I know. That sounds so weird. Normally people get distracted from their homework by other stuff, but you haven't heard what my homework is yet.
Yeah that's right. Inception. And The Dark Knight. And Dan Brown's novels. All part of my English capstone class. We're studying Carl G. Jung, the Swiss psychologist. One of his big theories is that the entire human race has a collective subconscious that expresses itself through mythical archetypes and sacred narratives. Our dreams are one of the simplest ways to tap into that collective subconscious. I'll admit, it's all a bit hard for me to grasp just yet: psychology has never been my strong suit, so I'm definitely not doing Jung's theories justice, but that's what I've gotten so far. :)
Anyway, we're focusing on how Jung's psychology fits with Christopher Nolan's movies and Dan Brown's novels. It's absolutely fascinating, and possibly the best class I have ever taken at BYU.
And truthfully? I'm so blessed! I've discovered recently that I don't like the standard academic approaches to literary theory. Most literature classes, unless they're extremely specialized to a specific author, just aren't my cup of tea. When I signed up for my capstone class, there was nothing in the description about studying Nolan and Brown. I had resigned myself to just struggling through writing about yet another pile of literature that didn't engage me, but then I saw the booklist. It might sound silly, but it feels like an answer to my prayers about having a successful final term at BYU. I really didn't want to finish my college career with a class that I didn't enjoy, but you can't dodge around the capstone class. Making it about such interesting books (just so you know, even though Nolan is a director, we have the shooting scripts for his movies, so those are our "textbooks") is a beautifully elegant solution to my problem.
I couldn't ask for a better way to finish off. I was walking across campus today on an errand for work and as I looked around at the blooming trees, the green grass, and the scattered people wandering around, I thought back to my first term here. It was exactly four years ago right now. I started at BYU in Spring of 2007. I was so filled with excitement and enthusiasm for everything, especially my studies. I've come through a lot since then, but having such an awesome final class has reignited some of that studious fervor. Senioritis has worn off at last. :)
My entire college career has a nice rounded-off feeling to it. I've come full circle. I have worked, struggled, succeeded, fallen in love, gotten my heart broken, made friends, lost friends, found myself, and so much more. Now, I'm in my last two months of school, and I feel just as fresh and new as I did then. My future is just as bright and promising as it was back then. Though I'm groomed for my ideal career now, I still have just as much opportunity to shape myself into the person I want to be. And the best part? Thanks to the last four years, I have a much better idea of who I want to be.
I really am so excited. I've been working towards this moment for my entire life. Ever since I was old enough to know what college was, I've been vowing that I would graduate from college and have a degree. That was ages before I even knew what I wanted to graduate in. The discovery of my love for English and eventually my absolute obsession with editing was all part of the journey. Now one class--9 short weeks--sits between me and that goal. And then the rest of my life becomes the canvas for me to paint on.
Yeah that's right. Inception. And The Dark Knight. And Dan Brown's novels. All part of my English capstone class. We're studying Carl G. Jung, the Swiss psychologist. One of his big theories is that the entire human race has a collective subconscious that expresses itself through mythical archetypes and sacred narratives. Our dreams are one of the simplest ways to tap into that collective subconscious. I'll admit, it's all a bit hard for me to grasp just yet: psychology has never been my strong suit, so I'm definitely not doing Jung's theories justice, but that's what I've gotten so far. :)
Anyway, we're focusing on how Jung's psychology fits with Christopher Nolan's movies and Dan Brown's novels. It's absolutely fascinating, and possibly the best class I have ever taken at BYU.
And truthfully? I'm so blessed! I've discovered recently that I don't like the standard academic approaches to literary theory. Most literature classes, unless they're extremely specialized to a specific author, just aren't my cup of tea. When I signed up for my capstone class, there was nothing in the description about studying Nolan and Brown. I had resigned myself to just struggling through writing about yet another pile of literature that didn't engage me, but then I saw the booklist. It might sound silly, but it feels like an answer to my prayers about having a successful final term at BYU. I really didn't want to finish my college career with a class that I didn't enjoy, but you can't dodge around the capstone class. Making it about such interesting books (just so you know, even though Nolan is a director, we have the shooting scripts for his movies, so those are our "textbooks") is a beautifully elegant solution to my problem.
I couldn't ask for a better way to finish off. I was walking across campus today on an errand for work and as I looked around at the blooming trees, the green grass, and the scattered people wandering around, I thought back to my first term here. It was exactly four years ago right now. I started at BYU in Spring of 2007. I was so filled with excitement and enthusiasm for everything, especially my studies. I've come through a lot since then, but having such an awesome final class has reignited some of that studious fervor. Senioritis has worn off at last. :)
My entire college career has a nice rounded-off feeling to it. I've come full circle. I have worked, struggled, succeeded, fallen in love, gotten my heart broken, made friends, lost friends, found myself, and so much more. Now, I'm in my last two months of school, and I feel just as fresh and new as I did then. My future is just as bright and promising as it was back then. Though I'm groomed for my ideal career now, I still have just as much opportunity to shape myself into the person I want to be. And the best part? Thanks to the last four years, I have a much better idea of who I want to be.
I really am so excited. I've been working towards this moment for my entire life. Ever since I was old enough to know what college was, I've been vowing that I would graduate from college and have a degree. That was ages before I even knew what I wanted to graduate in. The discovery of my love for English and eventually my absolute obsession with editing was all part of the journey. Now one class--9 short weeks--sits between me and that goal. And then the rest of my life becomes the canvas for me to paint on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)