But then I came up with reasons to justify everything, and then I felt better and continued walking.

You know what I noticed? People have this incredible way of justifying their decisions. Like, I could make the choice to drop out of school, and then years down the line, I find a great job. Bam! It was meant to happen because something good happened later. Or Charlotte Lucas (from P&P) could choose to marry this really boring, annoying guy and then years down the road, he gets a little more interesting, they have some good stories amidst their relative wealth, and she looks back with glowing affection on her past self for settling on stability and occasional fond memories. Bam! She made a great decision.

And you know what? It could totally be inspired and meant to be. I just had a friend who dropped out of school for multiple legitimate, inspired reasons inform me that she got her dream job. I'm pretty certain that's what the Lord wanted her to do.

And maybe in some situations it's okay to marry Mr. Collins.
Nope. It never is.

One time, I was talking to this woman about how after she divorced her husband of 20+ years, and she noticed that she felt freer to develop parts of herself that he did not approve of. She became more active and assertive and she also developed more extreme opinions about everything. Okay, so maybe he was good for some things, but she was totally limiting herself to fit into a mold!! And a mold he perhaps unintentionally created. Before the divorce, she would talk proudly about her spouse and how great he was and how great their marriage was and how everything was just fantastic. Now, with hindsight bias, she was able to see how he was manipulative and emotionally abusive.

What great timing. She makes a decision, and while that decision contradicts her original decision to stick with this guy, the new one has reasons that the old decision never happened to acknowledge but were always there. I'm not saying she made the wrong decision, I'm just saying that there is something fishy about the reinforcements she made for two opposite decisions. One of those decisions was probably wrong. 

Maybe I'm coming from this place/belief where destiny is involved in every important choice you make when it really doesn't matter. If you believe it's great, it's great. Even if it isn't great. Because even important choices can iron themselves out in the eternities. (Oh my gosh, SO annoying. How do people walk around with that mindset?! Why even try to be happy now if everything gets ironed out eventually. That's crazy talk.)

Even so, I don't want to be sitting in the shadow of where I could be years down the road. I also don't want to just talk myself into believing things are great so I feel happy about my choices.

Fifty roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel them all
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down a few as far as I could
To where they bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the most predictable because I'm boring.
Because it was easy to trod the asphalt road,
I closed my eyes, snoring;
I was finally freed from woodland exploring.

For a moment I sat, feeling the weight of my load,

But then I came up with reasons to justify everything, and then I felt better and continued walking.

A Different Perspective Offered in Conference

As I was listening to Elder Nelson's talk "A Plea to My Sisters," I picked up on some words that I don't normally hear in talks addressed to women. He basically tells women that they need to be more involved in church affairs. I decided to chart the verbs I heard into a chart formatted like the chart I used in a previous post. (This post won't make any sense if you don't read that last post.)

Review of last chart to compare to new chart:

New chart based on Elder Nelson's talk:

More Explanation that I Forgot to Include at the Bottom: I included words that were used to describe specific women in his talk as well as words directed toward women in general. The words that are larger than other words were magnified based on how many times those words were used. "Speak," for example, was used six times in the talk while "Make" was used twice. Some of the words I used were actually adjectives transformed into verbs, but I tried my best not to change the intended meaning. 

After I finished making the chart, I was surprised by the number of directive words--fifteen if you don't count the words that were repeated. Following comes in last with eight words (also not counting the words that were repeated). In this talk--and possibly others that I have not even looked at--women are to assume a directive and guiding role in the church and in general.

I wanted to make a similar chart with all of the adjectives he used to describe women (and to categorize the words based on the the spirit behind the description (so an even more subjective grouping of words) where a word like "strong" would have the spirit of directing style and "devoted" would have the spirit of following style) but I felt like I should post this with just the one table before I was done exploring the topic.

It's nice to have some evidence to counter my original assumption that women in the church are supposed assume a following role in their lives. While there is still room for questions (and there always is), it is reassuring to hear a talk that urges women to direct and guide.

The best line of the talk came at the end:

"And as one of His Apostles, I thank you, my dear sisters, and bless you to rise to your full stature, to fulfill the measure of your creation, as we walk arm in arm in this sacred work. Together we will help prepare the world for the Second Coming of the Lord. Of this I testify, as your brother, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

:)

Roles... and just trusting and moving forward

I was reading in my motivational interviewing book about a continuum of communication styles: directing, guiding, and following (where motivational interviewing seeks to find the middle ground), and it made me think of the roles of men and women in the LDS church.

Despite the few equality talks out there about men and women being equal partners, I still feel like men are given the director role and women are expected to take the following role. I don't like that at all. I want to be in a relationship where we both guide and follow each other. I think the directive style of communication should be used sparingly in relationships, if at all, and mainly with children. 

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

Okay, so I wrote this really short blog post, and then I couldn't stop thinking about it. I fixated on the subject for a few days and then I rewrote this entry for a class discussion, except this time, with an edge of intolerance. The content barely differed from the above excerpt, but I was in a world of difference emotionally between this entry and that one. I was not happy.

I ended up calling a friend that day (a self-identified Mormon feminist male with a ginormous testimony) to talk it out. I just wanted to hear someone's thoughts who wouldn't feel the urge to shove their testimony down my throat without really hearing me. Because most my well-meaning friends would do just that or resist the urge for long enough for me to feel secure and then find a gap for their testimony. I get it. I really do. I have been that person many, many times. It's just not what I needed right then. 

After listening to my concerns sans judgment and giving some of his own thoughts on the same subject, my friend tangentially shared the thought that faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things and that sometimes we don't find the reassurances we seek immediately after the trial of our faith. It was that thought that led me to tears rather than the emotionally cluttered thoughts I shared initially (which thought process had begun as a rational venture. I think most trials of faith have rational beginnings. And you learn a lot by how you feel about new knowledge. The emotional reaction becomes a problem when it turns a concern into an obsession that rejects reason and/or consolation from God). It also gave me the opportunity for me to bare my testimony about how the Lord once blessed me with one reassurance long after numerous instances of knocking and waiting for one answer. When the answer came it was brief and a bit indirect, but given when I was most ready to receive it.

Not everything makes sense. We can blame a lot on semantics because it's easier to change the meaning of words than to change our worldviews. Whatever the real meaning behind the words in the Proclamation to the Family or other holy ordinances, there's probably a good reason why the Lord chose to use the specific words he used. One day everything will make sense. For now, I will try my best to follow the Spirit and blame the discrepancy of my understanding and the meaning of words on semantics and go on developing my dreams of Mormonism with a lens of feminism a more modern take on equality. I think my Heavenly Father is okay with that for now. 

:)

Speaking of equality, I realized this weekend why I am so moved by contemporary dance pairs (after attending Evidance for like, the 4th time). Unlike ballroom where you have a leader and a follower, contemporary dance doesn't have a leading and following role. Both partners react to the movements of the other and they have equal power to influence the direction and flow of the dance. It's less pristine and structured, but it's more expressive and emotive than other paired dancing. It tells the story about a living human relationship while ballroom showcases a stuffy traditional ideal.

(I am so sorry if a dance person is reading this. I realize that I don't really know what I'm talking about and that my description/terminology is choppy and incomplete. Also, I still adore ballroom lots. I just really, really enjoy watching contemporary dance. And I like equality-like things.)

More about dating

Big changes in my life:

1) Working at a prison

2) Working with inmates

3) Pretending like I'm not afraid of my clients

4) Doing school and an internship at the same time

5) Having a nephew

Picture time!! 

  Image 1. My little sister with Rhowan. Image 2. Mi madre/Grandma/"Lita" with Rhowan. Image 3. Steph copying Rhowan's grumpy face       

I can't even.

He is a DIVA.

Back to my list.

I'm really overwhelmed with four of those things, yet I still give myself time to worry about dating. It's dumb. I'm getting over it. Whatever. Implementing a paradigm shift right now.

Okay, it's a bigger stress than I let on...

Only a few days ago, I admitted to myself that I have this colossal fear that I might not ever get married. I know, I'm freaking out over nothing, I'm still young, and a big part of my singleness is due to waiting too long on one guy. And it's not like I don't have an active dating life or that I don't get asked on dates. I'm pretty blessed. Still, the thought of living alone for the rest of my life absolutely terrifies me. 

In one of my classes, everyone went around telling the class about one thing that was stressing them out and one thing they were grateful for. Most people shared that they were stressed out about school and almost everyone mentioned that they were grateful for their spouse. When it got to me, I decided to be honest and say that dating was stressing me out and that I was grateful for friends. I felt really stupid because I sounded exactly like a freshman.

As would be only natural for a group of therapists, we processed what it was like to hear what everyone shared and what we learned. To poke fun at myself (and maybe redeem myself?), I said, "I was surprised at how many people shared about their spouses. It made me happy to hear that everyone in this room has healthy relationships. So I felt happy for everyone. Then, immediately after that feeling, I felt self-pity."

Everyone laughed. I said that to be funny, but I was being completely honest. 

Self-pity is a silly, pathetic creature. It probably looks like this:

Okay, I don't feel that sorry for myself. I mainly feel this weight of time. Cuz like, I could totally be gone from the center for Mormon marriages in only a few months. I don't want to be an adult on my own!

With these real (and maybe, stupid) fears, I'm reminded of a video I saw about three or so years ago on mormonsandgays.org. 

I am fully aware that my experiences don't even touch the tremendous struggles this man has encountered--I can't even compare the two. Even so, I think of his testimony from time to time when I start to doubt or falter. It comes to mind for little things too, like my dating fears.

Here's a beautiful excerpt from Ty's Story:

At one point, I was feeling very, very distant, probably as far from God as I had ever felt, and I had this very strong spiritual experience, kind of a mystical experience, where I was almost being enveloped in this feeling of love. There was nothing in that that was ‘what you’re doing is right, what you’re doing is wrong’ it was just this feeling of ‘I love you.’ And I felt like God knew me, that he remembered me. And I needed that more than anything. Again, it wasn’t an affirmation, it wasn’t a rebuke, it was just ‘I love you.’ And so I continued just trying to move forward trying to find reconciliation... I was in a kind of a devotional address and the instructor was talking about Isaiah, “But if you take hold of the covenant, you shall have a place and a name better than of sons and of daughters.” And as he was talking about this verse, I just had again like this very powerful spiritual experience, that my place was in the Church, that’s where I needed to be. It was a very clear communication that whether you get married in this life or the next is of no matter, just stay with me. Stay with me. If you take life a day at a time, continuing to seek and cultivate the spirit in your life, every blessing that can be had will be yours. Just trust.

You should really just watch the whole thing. And explore that website if you haven't already.

I usually think of his story when I'm struggling spiritually and holding on despite a threadbare testimony, but it applied well to my current obsession. 

I guess there's also this fear that God is holding back blessings because I'm not righteous or mature enough, or just because he thinks I need to wait it out until I drastically change my mind about wanting to be married. It's like, "I'm only going to give you blessings when you no longer want them." But God is nothing like my dad or some cruel powerful figure who likes to withhold blessings. It's like Uctdorf's talk in a general relief society meeting some years ago where he talked about the Lord wanting to shower us with blessings.

I've seen an image like this SO many times on facebook. I thought it was made by the church, but I found this on google images.

And why would the Lord give us advice he couldn't follow?

I would that ye should impart of your substance to the poor, every man according to that which he hath, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and administering to their relief, both spiritually and temporally, according to their wants. (Mosiah 4:26)

I forget his character when I become impatient. Despite my faulty memory and the lack of trust I often have with my father in Heaven, I have recommitted to faith that things will work out eventually. And why worry about something that's out of my control when I have so many other things vying for my attention.

Now I will officially focus on schoolwork. Dating mind = off 

Naive Pessimism

Yesterday in church, my favorite Sunday school teacher gave a lesson about... well, something dealing with new missionaries and this here quote:

“They arrive in the mission field brimming with confidence—in themselves, in the Lord, and in their mission president. They are ready to baptize the entire city, starting with whoever opens the first door they knock on. They will walk on water if you tell them there’s a golden investigator on the other side of the lake. And they are quite certain that they will never, ever get discouraged or tired or fearful.”

We all laughed knowingly and then the teacher posed the question, "Why do put down missionaries or people who have this much faith?" (Or something like that.)

My first thought to his question was, "Um, that's not faith; that's fantasy. That's also just naivety." The last line of the quote beckons the reader to question the judgment of these missionaries who are thinking in absolute terms ("never, ever get discouraged"). President Uchtdorf intended for the reader to come to the conclusion that these missionaries aren't being realistic. I don't think he was trying to say that these missionaries are more faithful than other church members or that this is how faithful members should feel. In fact, it's a bit like that naive hope that Neal A. Maxwell was talking about in "Brightness of Hope," which isn't real hope at all. 

Ignoring the inaccuracy of his question, I wondered why we can sometimes be so intolerant of these naively hopeful people. Why does this attitude rub us the wrong way? And why do we feel the need to slap it out of existence?

I think we disdain that "bright-eyed optimism" (as my ex would put it) not just because of the disappointment we've experienced in our own lives, but also because we can remember feeling that way, we miss the feeling of purpose we once had, and we envy them for having it. There is so much jealousy underneath the eye-rolls and sarcastic side remarks when that one girl bears her testimony. There's also this paternal feeling that comes mid-annoyance, like, "I want to save her from disappointment. She should not put her hopes so high or she is going to crash like I did." Which usually comes across as more patronizing than protective (e.g., "I was just like you once"). And then comes a lengthy anecdote or some moving story about how hope is lost and you should just reframe your hope into harsher terms like I did.

We act like we're these experienced, sage, recovered drug addicts who have done it all and now know the tougher side of life, when in reality, most of us have only a few years on these naive youngsters, and some of our greatest disappointments have had to do with a few failed relationships or choosing a major.

I don't want to downplay the struggle of closed doors and lost opportunities, but I think we sometimes give up on optimism too early. I also think we take ourselves too seriously sometimes. Like this sailor guy.

Working with kids who have been severely sexually traumatized has not only given me hope for those who have suffered so much loss, but a ton of hope for myself. I remember once talking to someone about how the future doesn't feel as expansive as it once did as a freshman. I felt like various avenues became inaccessible as I made more decisions, and so the future felt less exciting.

I feel like such an A thinking back to that conversation after working with these kids. My future is pretty dang awesome. I could change course any time I want to because I have an education, the gospel, a relatively healthy past, and a pretty good legal record. I've got so much more reason to hope big than other people do, and here I am feeling constricted and too experienced to follow my dreams.

Hope is out there, guys. It really is. Also, there's no need to hate on unrealistic goal-setters. Maybe they're onto something you've forgotten about.


Aaaand this is my new favorite song for the week:

They're a cool local band. You should listen to them. :)

I'm going to talk about tradition now

You can learn a lot by spending time with people who think differently than you. Being challenged on seemingly neutral topics can generate more opinions than you originally thought possible. Since you can't avoid people who think differently than you, you will eventually be forced to confront your beliefs. I'm glad that I've grown accustomed to needing to articulate my thoughts or needing to defend my position (or make a brilliant arguments in my head once my opponent is out of the picture (somehow they always sound like Simplicio from Dialogue Concerning Two Chief World Systems)).

[Transition: I'm going to talk about tradition now.]

I've been noticing this battle going on between traditional thought and progressive thought. (BTW, I don't really feel qualified to be talking about this so I will use words that sound broad and holistic (like tradition and progress instead of conservative or liberal or Republican or Democrat).

Anyway, I've been noticing this trend to hate on tradition just because. Sometimes there is a really good reason that people hate traditions, but other times I get the impression that the tradition is hated due to the association it has with other traditions. (It's like, "Ew, dresses were invented before women's suffrage!")

I've seen the other side too...

One time I made the mistake of mentioning to my aunt how my friend's male fiance decided to wear a ring before the wedding. Her reaction was something like, "What?! Why would you do that?" To which I responded, "Why not? I mean she has to wear a ring before the wedding... why shouldn't he? I thought it was kinda cool.." "But it breaks tradition!" Me: "So?" Her: "You shouldn't break tradition." I didn't bother asking why because I knew that would lead to some sort of intervention where I would be taught the sanctity of tradition. And I didn't really care that my friend's fiance was doing something different. It was just an offhand comment. If only they knew about the nontraditional things I do care about! :O
Like joint last names. I kind of think it would be soooo cool to combine my last name with my spouse. Like in a really dorky creative way... like, if their last name was something simple like "Smith" or "Miller" or "Anderson," it could be changed to Spith, Spiller, or Spanderson. HAHaHA. Oh man, adding "Sp" to the beginning of any word is such a good idea. But hyphenating it would be cool too... especially if my spouse's surname was really long and foreign sounding. That would look AWESOME: Hello, married ward, we are the Spencer-Tsaregorodtsev's. hahahaaha
Silliness aside, I like the symbolism of both partners changing their last names because it is as if they are both leaving their parents and cleaving to one another as a new family. 

Also, sometimes I don't like following holiday traditions.Specifically Thanksgiving. I just never feel like having a lot of Thanksgiving food. And even though I've tried to plan thanksgivings with people where we make a pizza in the shape of a turkey, no one ever wants to. 

Whenever I hear people rag on the dreams of traditional thinkers, it makes me sad. If a woman wants to drop out of school to start a family, give her a break! It's her freaking decision, guys. If traditional thinkers can't make the final call on who is happiest in this world, neither can progressive thinkers.


I recently realized that I have made a huge shift to traditional views in the area of the family. (Traditional as in, having a family period. I'm not talking about the traditional family in this post.)


Long story to demonstrate the emotional piece of my shift...

In a therapy class focused on self-care, our professor led us in a mindfulness/relaxation exercise. After breathing deeply for a few counts, we were asked to imagine a place that was safe and serene. She listed off a few examples of common peaceful locations (like the beach or the forest) and told us to choose a location that felt safe. Then she asked specific questions to build imagery and the overall experience.

I already had an imagined place in mind (that I had used in a similar exercise) so I decided to start from there and develop it further. I envisioned a still bedroom with dusty light leaking through a window as I had before, except that this time, it was dusk, the lights were off, and the room looked blue from the outside light. I imagined the room in more detail--there was a computer desk, picture frames on the south wall, a slightly messy work-space, and three windows (two on the north wall and one on the west wall where I could barely make out the setting sun because of all the trees blocking my view). I was standing by a computer desk looking southward towards the doorway that led to the rest of the house.
When I was asked what noises I heard, I was surprised to hear noises coming from inside the house rather than outside the house--distant laughter. "But who's laughter?" I thought. The answer came right away--it was my family's laughter. "Which family?" I asked myself. Again, I knew the answer: it was my future family--my far future family. My children were already adults and they were gathered in the family room talking and laughing. I knew exactly where they were--just around the staircase, only two small hallways away in the living room (which was located right by an open kitchen and a sliding door to the backyard--I've never been in a house that looks this way by the way).
When I wondered why I wasn't with them, I remembered that I had only stepped away for a little bit and registered that I would of course be welcomed back. For now, I was spending time alone in this office space enjoying the distant laughter and the opportunity to ponder for a few minutes. My heart was full and I felt the utmost peace and happiness to hear them enjoying themselves.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I've never really considered myself a family person. Because I didn't have the most functional family, it has taken me awhile to fully appreciate the LDS obsession with families. I considered it a bitter obligation you sign up for when you decide to be a member. Like childbirth but lifelong.

It was only a few years ago that I was persuaded to believe that family life could be enjoyable when I spent time with happy, functional families. It was so bizarre awkward uncomfortable off-putting to be in the company of related individuals who actually respected each other. I was sure they could see right through me into my dysfunctional roots, and that made it uncomfortable to be around them. I think I've gotten over most of that discomfort to the point where I really looked up to these families. In due course, I decided that it was real, it was ideal, it was possible, and that I wanted that.

Having made that conscious decision/goal to have functional, happy family, I didn't think that my deep-seated core beliefs would shift as well (and so drastically). I can honestly say that I no longer dread a family-filled future; I long and pray for one. I almost want to apologize for admitting this, but my professional/personal ambitions are a second priority to this new future family goal (I mean, I hope I can do both, but it's still a lesser priority). I would sacrifice a lot to have that image in my head become a reality.


I have strayed quite a bit from my original train of thought, but I think I'm going to end it there. Tradition values aren't the coolest ideas out there but sometimes there's a lot of merit to doing things the way everyone else does it. I guess that's my conclusion.

Wanting to be a persewer

I feel like I've been shafted back to square one. I was doing so well, and then... life.

I don't even feel motivated to finish writing about how I feel.

I hate being single.

I hate it so much.

My one friend accused me of not being very feminist when I complained about the woes of returning to single life. Well, I think my angst over singlehood is unrelated to being an independent woman. I just like companionship, okay?

I can be feminist and want companionship, CAN'T I??

I will prove my point through a veiled story about... not my life...

........................................................................................................................

Once upon a time there was an enchanted kingdom where there lived two types of people--people who had two squiggly Xs in their genetic makeup and people who had one squiggly X and something that looked like a short, malformed stick for their genetic makeup. We can call the first group the persoood and the second group the persewers.

The persoood were a special lot. Unlike persewers, the persoood were not expected to do much. They were supposed to sit around and develop their natural heavenly qualities to such a degree that the persewers would take note and pursue them.

The persewers were a less special lot. They were lectured night and day to find a persoood and were given the most hideous grimaces if they grew old and were without the company of the angelic persoood.

While most reasonable people among both the persoood and persewers sympathized with the strict expectations given to the persewers, not many people reflected on the restrictions placed on the persoood.

You see, the persoood, were handed their own set of expectations. Because most people considered the persewers to be more vulnerable and only doing their duty, the persoood were expected to give a lot of chances to the persewers.

A typical conversation between two persooods:
Persoood 1:  "How was your romantic activity with that one persewer with such a sweet spirit?"
Persoood 2: "It was okay. I don't think I'm into it."
Persoood 3: "BUT NO! YOU SHOULD GIVE HIM A CHANCE!!"

(Forceful shouting was also typical.)

So, the uninterested persoood would give the sweet spirit a chance after being inculpated by fellow persooods and maybe even platonic-minded persewers.

But what if, you ask, a persoood took interest in a persewer? Instead of developing its own angelic qualities, what if it did the noticing and asked a persewer to go on a romantic excursion?

What would happen with a group of persewers post-excursion if the persewer was not interested in the persoood?

I'll tell you: nothing. No pressuring. No shouting. No inculpating whatsoever.

You see, the persewers have no obligation to change their minds. And it would be absurd to be with a persoood who is more invested in forming a relationship than the persewer. That's the persewers job!

And so that was the lot of most persooods. They were considered the luckier group--but they were not all that lucky. Most of them would end up bending and loving a persewer they would have never noticed while most of the persewers would end up with a persoood they admired from the beginning.


................................................................................................................

I don't wanna bend.

Also, I plan better dates.

Feel free to set me up with your open-minded attractive persewers. Just give me their names and numbers. I can do the pursuing. If I feel like it.

BAM! Feminist powers restored.

Look at those photo-shop skills!!!

My boasting post

I was really antsy in church today. I couldn't sit still or stay awake or focus on anything for more than two minutes.

Knowing that all behaviors stem from thoughts and feelings, I pondered on why I was being such a spaz. But then I couldn't focus because I was thinking of all the things I needed to do today and this week. And then I had this urge to start pacing.

I am overwhelmed.

There is just too much to do and too little time.

I've never been this social in my life, or had so many opportunities to socialize that I didn't seek out on my own. Socialness has been thrust upon me and I don't know how to manage all of it.

I think I can appreciate the planned lunches and activities, but the spontaneous invitations are driving me crazy (because I can't say "no!"). And I get behind on things that I need to do.

Like me-time. I need me-time. Like, at least an hour of me-time a day. Just time to ponder, or read, or write, or do nothing.

Or spiritual time. I'm not getting much of that either.

And the more that I push me-time or spiritual time to the back-burner, I get more and more antsy.

I've ALSO fallen about 20 hours behind in my homework hours. (I only need FIVE homework hours a week to make up for the fact that my internship limits my hours to 29/week.) I honestly don't know what I'll do to make up for lost time.

Waaaah! I'm such a victim.

Just kidding. I really love my friends. I am so blessed to be loved and be surrounded by people who I happen to love as well. I just need to schedule better.

My mom says that people use social media to show off. Consider this my showing off blog.

Some cool experiences and cool people...

About 3 months ago, I got endowed. It was a healing balm to my soul and exactly what I needed at a conveniently devastating time.

That same week I went horseback riding for the first time with these amazing roommates (slash two sets of kind/loving grandparents of one roommate) who extended that healing even further.

We also did other things like try to catch chickens and ride old bikes. :)

Around the same time, I met an exceptional, swoon-worthy man who I definitely don't have feelings for anymore. He became unavailable before I really got to know him, so that ended. I've learned that that experience, though bitter-sweet, has been crucial to me not trying to get back together with my ex. I am SO grateful that I met him and I have a idea of what's out there. It's one thing to know on a cognitive level that there are better options, but it's another thing to have solid evidence right in front of you. Even if he's become this annoying ideal (that probably doesn't reflect reality anymore), I feel like I've been saved from deeper heartbreak and disappointment (and needlessly consumed time and energy).

Isn't this a cute puppy??

I went to a special storytelling party where we told stories around a bonfire, and I had the unique privilege of hearing a stranger's encounter with an odd disease and brain surgery.

I joined a dinner group and met new friends.

I practiced driving with my super generous roommate and later with a super generous friend.

I went on more adventures with the aforementioned roommates and got back into exploration mode. (A mode that has been curiously out of order for a couple years).

I reconnected with close friends on lunch dates/Netflix binges who may now be closer friends.

I had too few late night conversations with my now married roommate. :(

Oh Ruth. You provide the best contrast. Hahahahahaha I miss you so much.

I saw some movies with one of my best friends, including the unexpectedly gory Mad Max, the borderline intriguing Box Trolls, and the needlessly sensual Welcome to Me.

I trespassed the Widstoe days before it was demolished for good. And I made a friend in the process. :)

I went on a weekend retreat with these awesome girls in my cohort.

I went on more lunch dates with old friends.

Not actually during our lunch date--just a pleasant surprise this morning. :)

I went to my friend's choir concert and then explored the Springville Art Museum with another friend.

Another cool painting.

A roommate returned and so did sleep deprivation in the form of living room slumber parties, piss-smelling swamp cooler, and all the bugs (that could have crawled in our ears!!)

A day of wedding. So much wedding. And the first sealing I've been to--that was probably the best part. :)

And this cake was also the best part... I wish I took more photos that day.

I went to Inside Out and met a new adventure buddy! 

Look at us not taking the easy path.

My dear friends who left Utah last year returned two weeks ago, and it was like they never left. Oh how I wish they were here for just a little longer!  It was rejuvenating to have a day filled with effortless, unstructured talking. I felt so whole! Though spending individual time with friends can be so meaningful and fulfilling, spending time with a group of close friends felt...well, like heaven. (I'm sorry I use so many cliches. And so many "so's" and "just's." And starting sentences with "and.")

Then I hung out with those same friends and saw fireworks and played a drawn-out strategy game (I forgot the name of it... and I don't really care to know it... I'm pretty sure I'd only ever play it with them).

Later that night I stayed up til 3 playing Bang with those same friends. After which I received a much needed massage from my oh so talented, went-to-school-for-massage-therapy, light-saber/swordfight dancing, all sorts of nerdy friend. Thank goodness we've agreed to be friends again.


Last Thursday I went to an interfaith lecture given by an Orthodox Christian and thoroughly enjoyed being told I look twelve by a future seminary teacher. And then on the same day, I actually enjoyed hearing my friend's essay on Christian ideals of beauty.

I discovered a rock climbing buddy who happened to already be my friend!! How did this just fall into my lap so perfectly? I got exactly what I wanted soon after dropping the rock climbing class that I couldn't afford to take (A really hard decision to make, by the way). (AND she knows how to lead climb and is willing to teach me--something the rock climbing class was not going to go over.) I guess blessings come from being responsible.

  



This past weekend I went camping and made more friends!

I'm forgetting a ton of stuff, but I'm happy to have rediscovered friends. Even though I'm overwhelmed and really want to read a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and start this writing project I thought up, I have bonded with so many remarkable people and have participated in so many cool things. Those other things can wait for a little longer. Just SO sosososososo much goodness. And.

The list

Soon after Ryan and I broke up, I was given advice to make a list of all the qualities I want in a man. 

(A little later I was given advice to be more positive. I almost wrote a raving blog post that would have been titled "The Arrogance of Optimism." Instead I decided to be a bit more mature and confront the person who offended me. Thankfully she was super sweet and understanding, and I feel like our relationship really benefited from it. But man, you would have read some opinions if we hadn't talked.) 

At the time, I felt like the advice was given in poor taste and at a bad time. It was a simple solution to my loss--almost like a band-aid to internal bleeding. Just...unhelpful.

(I sometimes really hate all the band-aids people dish out because they don't know what to say. You know when you pour out your soul on someone's lap and then they just shrug their shoulders and tell you to pray about it? How invalidating can you get?? (Not that prayer is ever bad advice. It's more the delivery of the unsolicited advice that bugs me. Even if you don't know what to say, you owe it to the person venting to stay connected and respond with your heart.)) 

I almost wrote a blog post (this is my outlet, you guys) where I planned to take the advice seriously, and then I decided to be act mature... again. I feel like I missed out on a great learning opportunity. So without further ado, here is my list:

My Future Man <3<3<3

1. Athletic/buff/all muscle. I really dig guys who go to the gym, like, all the time. I think they pretty much embody true masculinity.

2. TALL - like, super tall. So tall that my head falls below his nipples. I dream of straining my neck for the rest of my whole life just to glance up his nostrils. I really love that double chin that naturally forms when tall men bend low enough to kiss me.

3. Fluent in at least three languages. I think that's a pretty modest proposal considering that I'm at the Lord's school. It's not all that uncommon, and I figure you have to be pretty lazy if you're not studying another language on top of the one you learned on your mission. (Because everyone worth knowing didn't serve state-side, obviously). 

4. Super duper spiritual. I really wanna marry someone who is going to be an apostle someday. I think my self-esteem would go way up if my spouse was recognized as a spiritual giant. 

5. Prepared to make lots of money. Speaking of being recognized for someone else's work, I think I need to be with someone who is studying to become a doctor. Then I can I can send out Christmas cards with the title "Dr. and Mrs." to all my less fortunate poor and undistinguished friends. BETTER YET--what if he was a business major!? After thinking it over, I think I'd rather marry a future CEO. I think that would make for amazing dinner conversation (especially when politics came up). And maybe I could provide counseling to the overworked interns he employs. Match made in heaven.

6. Really musical. Almost like a prodigy in all the important instruments (piano, guitar, singing,... um... ukulele. I think that's all). You might call me a hypocrite for having really amateur skills, but it totes happens all the time to people I know. I think it could happen to me. 

7. Attractive, but not so attractive that people think, "Her?" You know what I'm saying? So, attractive, but less attractive than me.

8. Ambidextrous. Just because. 

A. Has the same interests as me. It would suck to have to learn about new things that I don't already know about. How tedious would that be!

10. Already rich and able to provide for me. That way he can pay off all my school debt and we can start having babies right away.  

Okay, I am hating this straw-man character the more I write, so I think I'm done with this list. Even though I might know some people who feel these ways, I'm not being completely fair to their views and opinions. You could be aiming for an apostle and totally deserve to feel that way as a virtuous woman nigh unto perfection. I don't really understand why you'd want to have all that pressure in your life, but you're probably a better person than me.

You could also be naturally attracted to men who study medicine or business. Perhaps you came from that socioeconomic class. It's only natural to want the same things you had as a child. 

And it's pretty normal to be attracted to musically talented men. I totally crushed on a guy who played guitar just because he played guitar really well and he was attractive. It's not really on my list, but the charm of musical talent is hard to ignore.

Also, it's hot when guys speak multiple languages. (Sorry for throwing you under the bus earlier, state-side missionaries hahaha. And I realize that state-side missionaries aren't all English speaking. In fact, my good friend who used to live next door served state-side and speaks more than three languages). Also, I don't actually know anyone who has that quality on their list. Someone probably does.

And I can see how it might seem cool to date really tall guys. I once dated this guy that was 6'2" and it really did strain my neck. Also it was awkward to hold hands. But it was kind of cool for the first little bit. We adjusted and mainly kissed sitting. (ALSO, it's hard to ballroom dance with guys who are a lot taller than you. Just throwing in another plug for men of average heights.)

I can also see how it would be difficult to date a man who was much more attractive than you. There's a lot more social pressure for women to be attractive, and I've heard that reaction so many times in my life when a woman scores a guy who is more attractive than her. While a man can walk around proudly with a more attractive woman (a trophy) women can't really do the same thing with men.

And muscular-ness can be really attractive sometimes. I tend not to connect with frequent gym-goers, but maybe someday I will. I'm open-minded haha.

I just wasted a couple hours. And a little extra because I suck at editing. 

Lord, I cannot be comforted; help thou my choice to not be comforted

I was reading in Ether the other day about Coriantumr and his last-minute repentance. Before his people (as well as the opposing army) were obliterated from years of bloodshed and pointless war, he was told to repent of his iniquities or his entire household would be slaughtered and he would be the lone survivor to witness it. He writes an epistle to Shiz (the incorrigible little shiz) and pleads with him to end the war to save the last remains of the people. Shiz says he would spare the people if Coriantumr would turn himself in. Coriantumr is too much of a coward to do the right thing.

The chapter that precedes his change of heart describes the disgusting consequences of continuing to fight stupid battles.

"And so great and lasting had been the war, and so long had been the scene of bloodshed and carnage, that the whole face of the land was covered with the bodies of the dead. And so swift and speedy was the war that there was none left to bury the dead... leaving the bodies of both men, women, and children strewed upon the face of the land, to become a prey to the worms of the flesh. And the scent thereof went forth upon the face of the land, even upon all the face of the land; wherefore the people became troubled by day and by night, because of the scent thereof." Ether 14: 21-23

I'm glad Coriantumr was finally convinced that he needed to repent once it started to smell really bad, but it's crazy that it took him that long! "He saw that there had been slain by the sword already nearly two millions of his people, and also their wives and their children... and his soul mourned and refused to be comforted."

I can't imagine what that would be like to realize that you are the cause of so much death. I felt for him when I read that. I think this moment in Coriantumr's life captures the sincere desire to have mountains cover oneself for shame ("we would fain be glad if we could command the rocks and mountains to fall upon us to hide us from his presence." Alma 12:14) As I thought about his guilt and shame, I noticed the wording "refused to be comforted."

I might be reading into minute details of a small phrase, but is it possible that God was trying to comfort him? Is it possible that God--though it was too late to repent and not reap the consequences of his disobedience--still loved his son and was reaching out still?

How often do I refuse to be comforted? I might beg and plead for reassurances during hard times, but is there a part of me that really wants to feel the weight of disappointment and loss before I will let myself be comforted?

I was reminded of Elder Bednar's most recent talk last conference "Therefore They Hushed Their Fears." He basically says that we need to have faith and choose to hush our own fears. The Lord has no control over what we choose to do with our fears, and he cannot assist us if we do not first quiet our fears.

I agree that it's ultimately our choice to be comforted, but I do think that God can sometimes give us an extra boost of confidence even when we're choosing to be inconsolable. If the thought of, "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief,"is enough to receive the warmest, most loving reassurance of God's presence and love, I think our Heavenly Father sometimes lifts us out of our despair with something as small as, "Lord, I cannot be comforted; help thou my choice to not be comforted." Even a half-decision or the beginning of the choice to hush our own fears can be enough for him to reach out and help us out of our self-made helplessness. Then it is our choice to keep with it and move forward.

And then if we dig another hole, he'll still reach out to lift us up again. No matter how many times I've given in to despair, he's not left me comfortless. Often he'll let us spend time in the pitiful hole we've made because we keep climbing back in, but he'll keep coming back because he's our father and he still loves us even if we're all masochists sometimes.

I love our merciful God! It's so wonderful to know that we're never alone and that there will always be one perfect being who will never give up on us even when we give up on ourselves! I love the story of the prodigal son and the story of Alma the younger and all the stories about repentance and forgiveness and grace and mercy. And I love this painting:

I don't know what else to say even though I want to keep professing my love for my Heavenly Father. Just know that I know he lives, and that I love him and trust him. In Jesus' name, amen.

On a slightly less spiritual note (only slightly though), this is my new favorite song for the week. I think it applies really well. (Though it probably applies well to all of my blog posts hahaha).