Ok reader. I've got a doozy for you. A 100% true and crazy story.
I work as a server at a local mexican restaurant. We get a lot of regulars. Naturally, I befriend all of them...especially the really good tippers. 2 guys in particular I've connected with. Both are established, older guys. Perhaps in there early to mid 40s. One is a doctor, the other is a sound mixer for movies. They come in once every 4 months. Always together. Always when the movie guy is back in town from California. I always stop by and chat.
One day the doctor, his name is Robert, came in without his friend. Naturally, I stopped by to say hello. In the course of conversation he asked for my number. I gave it to him. I was graduating and he said he wanted to send me a text every now and again just to say hello. Alright, I thought, innocent enough. I didn't think much about it. Before he left the restaurant, he asked me if I could go anywhere where would I go. We had always talked about traveling. He knew I loved it. Without thinking much I blurted out, Turkey or India. Maybe Africa. I said goodbye and went back to my tables.
Later that night I received a text from Robert. Again he asked me if I could go anywhere where would I go. In response I told him I'm not picky...I love to travel so much...I was wanna go anywhere new. Soon he sent me another text in which he told me:
If you're serious about an adventure, I'd love to share one with you. I'd pay for us to go anywhere in the world for 2 or 3 weeks. You choose. Anywhere you want to go.
I couldn't believe it.
Was this for real?
I've had very real and intense fantasies wherein my boyfriend/husband/lover (you know whatever) would say the very same thing to me. And here it was. Someone was actually allowing me to perhaps live my fantasy.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't respond for a few minutes. Soon he sent me another text:
Imagine exploring the castles of England, soaking up the sun on an island in Greece or South Pacific, Christmas in Bethlehem, anywhere you want to go....
He was killing me. Literally KILLING ME.
I began to entertain the idea.
An all expense paid trip to wherever I wanted to go?! Ya...you don't just walk away from that...at least not right away. I love to travel way too much.
I tried to deter him by telling him I might be a bad travel buddy...he came back with whatever your travel style is, you'll only add to the adventure.
Crap. That didn't work.
I finally admitted I would need time to think about it, and we'd certainly have to meet and actually talk about our potential travel plans.
Swiftly he responded with:
After a few trips around Salt Lake, Orem, and Springville we'll get to know each other better. Then we'll make plans to go wherever you want to go.
Whoa. All of a sudden this little travel proposition had turned into a few dates. In hindsight, he probably should have started there. You know, dinner before Europe. But really, the expectation of traveling for free was what was getting him face time with me. So maybe he played his cards as best he could.
I asked him why he was doing this. He said it was a graduation gift. And then....
He told me he loved my energy. He had no doubt I was going to be successful. He was sure I was going to grab life and get every thing out of it I possibly could. He admired that about me. He loved to talk to me, and to be around me.
I was flattered. But i wasn't blind.
I knew he knew nothing about me. His only contact with me was at work, and I only showed him what I wanted him to see. He knew nothing of who I really was. And the reverse was just as true. I didn't know who he really was.
He then tried to get me to go to dinner with him that night. I told him I couldn't...I was up to my elbows in research and revising. My senior thesis was due in a few days, and my only focus until then was my writing.
He tried again to convince to take a break...that I still needed to eat. When I turned him down again he wished me the best of luck and I went back to writing. We set up a tentative date for the following week. After finals.
Reader, don't worry this has a happy ending. If you know me at all, you know I have my head on straight (most of the time). When I make decisions I tend to make them analytically. I look at the situation rationally. A few hours of actually considering traveling with Robert made me sick. I couldn't be stuck in a country where I was completely dependent on a man for money, tickets, etc. Nothing is free. What would he want in return for his "investments"? I shuttered to even think about it.
Late that night I laid down and couldn't sleep. I was so stressed. I was stressed about my senior thesis and the 3 other papers that were all due. I was worried about finals. I was worried about Robert and his plans for me. Yikes.
My response to stress is to eliminate it as soon as possible. I evaluate what my stresses are and then decide which ones I can cut. So I sent dear Robert the following text:
The more I think about it the more I know traveling with you is not something I want to do. So dinner is no longer necessary. Thanks for the offer though. That was very nice of you.
BAM! I set him straight. I didn't want him to try and convince me anymore. I didn't want him to think for a second there was any hope. If you know me, you know I'm good at being blunt. I'd say this text was some of my best work....
I never heard from the poor bloke again. If he comes into the restaurant, I'm totally going to act like nothing ever happened. I'm good at that too.
But don't worry yall. My fantasy of my future man telling me....Ashley, let's go anywhere you want to go. Just you and me. 2 weeks. Anywhere in the world...you choose....(sigh)
Ya. That's still fully in place. Robert didn't ruin a thing. If anything he gave me hope that one day my fantasy will be fulfilled, and hopefully by someone more my age.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
An Interview: Self-Conscious Blog Talk
I thought it would be nice for my readership to read an interview I had from a friend about...well...YOU!
Ok it's mainly about "My Apple", but reader you're a part of my beautiful blogging-world, so read on and find pleasure in being a part of something that means so much to me.
1. Why did you start your blog? I wanted a chance to practice my writing outside of scholarship and to discover my voice - in context with the world around me. Plus, I LOVE to write and I often get these overwhelming urges to write down all the thoughts getting jumbled in my head and I thought this would be a great place to "scratch my writing itch". To a lesser degree, many of my English friends had blogs and I enjoyed reading there's and I wanted to join them! As you can tell I thought a long time about doing a blog before I actually did it. I guess it was because I was resisting the urge to be, what I viewed, as cliche.
2. Does your blog have a title? If so, what is it? It's entitled, "My Heart is an Apple"
3. How did your blog get that title? I thought it was a great metaphor-you eat and consume an apple, but in my blog-world my heart is the apple you are consuming. I knew from the get go that my blog would be more personal than most and I thought the title reflected that. Plus, it's the title of a song i love by arcade fire. So i liked that too!
4. How often do you post on your blog?
As often as a thought is in my head and won't escape. Usually 4 or 5 times a month. During school it might be less... I tried doing everyday and that was lame. If you start writing about the everyday than that's a journal (in my eyes) and pretty LAME to read (and write about for that matter). Keepn' it real means sporadic and legit entries.
5. What usually prompts you to post on your blog? I have a thought about life or myself that I want to share with everyone. Sometimes if something especially funny or fantastic happens to me I'll post about that too. Usually it's just observations. If I have one, I write.
6. How many followers do you have on your blog? I have been REALLY shy about talking my blog up or telling people my URL. Mainly because I'm embarrassed people might not think I'm a good writer. And because I write about pretty personal stuff. So I don't have as many as I could...it's only 11. Which even admitting seems pretty embarrassing. That's a SAD number, I realize.
7. Do you have any followers you don't know? No. But I do have followers that I know only vaguely and I have NO idea how they found me! Or I'll be chatting with a friend's mom and she'll say something like "oh ya I read that on your blog" or "I really liked your latest posting". It always shocks me because I had NO idea they even knew it was me or that I had a blog. I've tried to add a counter to my blog. But I have done so unsuccessfully. (Side note: could you HELP ME with that Anna?! I would LOVE YOU!)
8. If so, have you ever had any communication with a follower you didn't know? No
9. If you were to put your blog into a genre, what would it be? Creative non-fiction? haha I dunno. Drama?
10. What is the general topic of your blog posts (i.e. food, family, photography, etc.)? My favorite topic to write about - ME! Or better yet, a single, white, Mormon, college student scared out of her mind to embark on life. Is that general enough for you? :-)
11. Do you follow anyone else's blogs? Yes
12. If so, what would you say the main purpose of you following someone's blog would be? If they are creative, write well, and give unique insights to life then I read it. I have to be honest, I LOATHE the blogs that just gush about how cool they are, or how much they did over the weekend, or how AMAZING their husband is. BARF! What a waste of time!
13. Do you keep a journal along with your blog? Interestingly enough, my journal writing HAS decreased since I started the blog. Perhaps it's because being an English major I already write so much. Post-graduation I have no doubt that I will still publish blog posts and be a journal writer again.
15. If not, do you feel you use your blog as a kind of journal (i.e. instead of a journal)? Yes, I think it's fair to say a lot about my blog is a bit journalish. There is a lot, however, that you shouldn't really publicize (and if you read my blog, I'm afraid that I might stray between this line of propriety every now and again) but there is something reassuring in putting your heartfelt feelings and thoughts out there for someone else to see. To validate your existence and your voice. To hear them respond that they identify with you. Or to know someone appreciates you. So sometimes I write in my blog when I'm wanting a human connectedness to my musings.
16. Anything else you would like to comment about your blog...Yes, you should ALWAYS leave a comment! Because sometimes it's easy to stop writing posts if NO one ever puts comments. You think, "how sad. what's the point? no one reads this anyway", right? So you should leave comments on my posts!
Ok it's mainly about "My Apple", but reader you're a part of my beautiful blogging-world, so read on and find pleasure in being a part of something that means so much to me.
1. Why did you start your blog? I wanted a chance to practice my writing outside of scholarship and to discover my voice - in context with the world around me. Plus, I LOVE to write and I often get these overwhelming urges to write down all the thoughts getting jumbled in my head and I thought this would be a great place to "scratch my writing itch". To a lesser degree, many of my English friends had blogs and I enjoyed reading there's and I wanted to join them! As you can tell I thought a long time about doing a blog before I actually did it. I guess it was because I was resisting the urge to be, what I viewed, as cliche.
2. Does your blog have a title? If so, what is it? It's entitled, "My Heart is an Apple"
3. How did your blog get that title? I thought it was a great metaphor-you eat and consume an apple, but in my blog-world my heart is the apple you are consuming. I knew from the get go that my blog would be more personal than most and I thought the title reflected that. Plus, it's the title of a song i love by arcade fire. So i liked that too!
4. How often do you post on your blog?
As often as a thought is in my head and won't escape. Usually 4 or 5 times a month. During school it might be less... I tried doing everyday and that was lame. If you start writing about the everyday than that's a journal (in my eyes) and pretty LAME to read (and write about for that matter). Keepn' it real means sporadic and legit entries.
5. What usually prompts you to post on your blog? I have a thought about life or myself that I want to share with everyone. Sometimes if something especially funny or fantastic happens to me I'll post about that too. Usually it's just observations. If I have one, I write.
6. How many followers do you have on your blog? I have been REALLY shy about talking my blog up or telling people my URL. Mainly because I'm embarrassed people might not think I'm a good writer. And because I write about pretty personal stuff. So I don't have as many as I could...it's only 11. Which even admitting seems pretty embarrassing. That's a SAD number, I realize.
7. Do you have any followers you don't know? No. But I do have followers that I know only vaguely and I have NO idea how they found me! Or I'll be chatting with a friend's mom and she'll say something like "oh ya I read that on your blog" or "I really liked your latest posting". It always shocks me because I had NO idea they even knew it was me or that I had a blog. I've tried to add a counter to my blog. But I have done so unsuccessfully. (Side note: could you HELP ME with that Anna?! I would LOVE YOU!)
8. If so, have you ever had any communication with a follower you didn't know? No
9. If you were to put your blog into a genre, what would it be? Creative non-fiction? haha I dunno. Drama?
10. What is the general topic of your blog posts (i.e. food, family, photography, etc.)? My favorite topic to write about - ME! Or better yet, a single, white, Mormon, college student scared out of her mind to embark on life. Is that general enough for you? :-)
11. Do you follow anyone else's blogs? Yes
12. If so, what would you say the main purpose of you following someone's blog would be? If they are creative, write well, and give unique insights to life then I read it. I have to be honest, I LOATHE the blogs that just gush about how cool they are, or how much they did over the weekend, or how AMAZING their husband is. BARF! What a waste of time!
13. Do you keep a journal along with your blog? Interestingly enough, my journal writing HAS decreased since I started the blog. Perhaps it's because being an English major I already write so much. Post-graduation I have no doubt that I will still publish blog posts and be a journal writer again.
15. If not, do you feel you use your blog as a kind of journal (i.e. instead of a journal)? Yes, I think it's fair to say a lot about my blog is a bit journalish. There is a lot, however, that you shouldn't really publicize (and if you read my blog, I'm afraid that I might stray between this line of propriety every now and again) but there is something reassuring in putting your heartfelt feelings and thoughts out there for someone else to see. To validate your existence and your voice. To hear them respond that they identify with you. Or to know someone appreciates you. So sometimes I write in my blog when I'm wanting a human connectedness to my musings.
16. Anything else you would like to comment about your blog...Yes, you should ALWAYS leave a comment! Because sometimes it's easy to stop writing posts if NO one ever puts comments. You think, "how sad. what's the point? no one reads this anyway", right? So you should leave comments on my posts!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
changes
"What does it take to reach you, into you? What is the stimulus that will force you to act; what motivates you in your inability to conceive of yourself as something special? Will it take the death of a loved one? Will the values you consider valuable have to be destroyed? Is the knowledge of self so painful as to demand that you not accept it and continue to squalor in your naivete?"
-LeRoi Jones
-LeRoi Jones
Reader, right now my mind and heart are a construction zone of change. I'm not sure what exactly is being torn down and what is replacing it - at least I can't see the complete picture just yet. But I feel a paradigm shift, a re-creation of my soul; it's exciting and beautiful.
The picture and preceding quote seem to bear a representative voice for my new soul. I have to share it with you. I have to lay claim to my change. I have to own it, and accept it - in order for it to do any good.
And reader...
I have so many questions that appear to have no answer:
How long will women continue to be victims of objectivity and bigotry?
How long will men hide behind alternate realities and fear of responsibility?
How long will America maintain a narrative of "whiteness" while ignoring it's BEAUTIFUL duplicity? (i.e. in Barnes and Noble there is an American Literature Multicultural section. Aren't people of ALL varying ethnic backgrounds American? Who is in the mainstream American Literature sections then? I'll give you one guess...)
In short,
How long will we prioritize the more dramatic international causes over our own domestic needs?
Reader what is YOUR knowledge of self? Are you continually shaping and re-shaping your identity and reality in order to shift into new modes of interpretation? What are your stereotypes and how does this affect your ability to love others? How does this effect your ability to see YOURSELF? Sometimes you have to fight, FIGHT! the product of your culture in order to see the bigger picture.
Don't miss the forest because you only care, or have time for the tree.
The picture and preceding quote seem to bear a representative voice for my new soul. I have to share it with you. I have to lay claim to my change. I have to own it, and accept it - in order for it to do any good.
And reader...
I have so many questions that appear to have no answer:
How long will women continue to be victims of objectivity and bigotry?
How long will men hide behind alternate realities and fear of responsibility?
How long will America maintain a narrative of "whiteness" while ignoring it's BEAUTIFUL duplicity? (i.e. in Barnes and Noble there is an American Literature Multicultural section. Aren't people of ALL varying ethnic backgrounds American? Who is in the mainstream American Literature sections then? I'll give you one guess...)
In short,
How long will we prioritize the more dramatic international causes over our own domestic needs?
Reader what is YOUR knowledge of self? Are you continually shaping and re-shaping your identity and reality in order to shift into new modes of interpretation? What are your stereotypes and how does this affect your ability to love others? How does this effect your ability to see YOURSELF? Sometimes you have to fight, FIGHT! the product of your culture in order to see the bigger picture.
Don't miss the forest because you only care, or have time for the tree.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday Morning Epiphany
Finally! I have found some time to write a new blog post. Have you missed me? I have missed you. You-who I don't even know, in the mass blackness of cyberspace-have somehow come to mean something to me.
Can I ask you something reader? How do you learn to live?
My teacher posed this question in class, and it struck my mind with such potency that I looked up from my writing with shock. Walking out of class, I wondered why this particular idea struck me so deeply? How did this apply to me? How does this apply to YOU reader?
The question inherently implies that you are not fully living, and consequently must find a way around this predicament.
Am I merely the blind man who hits the tree, but misses the forest?
Someone told me once living meant pushing through-forcing your way through life and all its choices. Then somewhere along the movement, you will pick up the knack for living.
So is life a mere procession of action? There is no "fail" or "success" only "learned" and "learning"?
Have YOU learned to live? Are you living, or merely surviving? Are you acting, or being acted upon?
Sometimes in school I feel stuck in a box, and I can't wait to fly away and discover for myself what it means to learn how to live.
Can I ask you something reader? How do you learn to live?
My teacher posed this question in class, and it struck my mind with such potency that I looked up from my writing with shock. Walking out of class, I wondered why this particular idea struck me so deeply? How did this apply to me? How does this apply to YOU reader?
The question inherently implies that you are not fully living, and consequently must find a way around this predicament.
Am I merely the blind man who hits the tree, but misses the forest?
Someone told me once living meant pushing through-forcing your way through life and all its choices. Then somewhere along the movement, you will pick up the knack for living.
So is life a mere procession of action? There is no "fail" or "success" only "learned" and "learning"?
Have YOU learned to live? Are you living, or merely surviving? Are you acting, or being acted upon?
Sometimes in school I feel stuck in a box, and I can't wait to fly away and discover for myself what it means to learn how to live.
Monday, September 13, 2010
1994
Peggy Orenstein's book, Schoolgirls, suggests that girl's self-esteem is lost as they "dumb themselves down" and conform to lesser expectations as to avoid being threatening. According to her study, the girls by adolescence had learned to not be too outspoken, too aggressive, or too smart. Boys are called on more in classrooms, and boys (even at home!) were in fact listened to more than the girls.
What part of this has affected me? (What part of this has affected YOU reader?) Orenstein's study was published in 1994-not that long ago! Certainly the research was conducted in the prime of my educational development. Which begs the question, what have I inherited from such a biased and hostile environment?
I can clearly remember the period in my life when I "realized" I wasn't "smart" like the boys in my class. I began to find my self-esteem, and largely my identity, in social groups, clothes, hobbies, and boys - not in school. I always had good grades, but I remained painfully aware that I wasn't "smart" like other people.
Fast forward a few years.
I went to college.
I came in contact with teachers who were women, who were beautiful, who were married, and yet not afraid to be themselves - they found identity and purpose in their intelligence. They were empowered by their intellectual development, not embarrassed by it. I remember being glued to my seat, listening to them speak. My entire body was on fire. I had FINALLY caught a shimmer, a glimpse of who I wanted to be. I had been walking around feeling empty inside, and I hadn't realized why. Looking back now, I see why. I had been "dumbing down" my mind's voice, and consequently, in a very real sense, I had been "dumbing down" my own life's experience.
I have discovered my own source of empowerment as I have allowed my mind to be fully, and more completely developed. I finally have a voice I'm no longer afraid to let others hear.
But then...
Last weekend I was talking to a guy, and in the course of our conversation I used several words he did not know. He asked me to explain, and I actually APOLOGIZED for using words too big and then I proceeded to feel EMBARRASSED about using said words. As soon as the moment passed I thought about Orenstein's research. I felt disappointment, and shame as I realized I was STILL one of the girls from her 1994 research.
Are you?
What part of this has affected me? (What part of this has affected YOU reader?) Orenstein's study was published in 1994-not that long ago! Certainly the research was conducted in the prime of my educational development. Which begs the question, what have I inherited from such a biased and hostile environment?
I can clearly remember the period in my life when I "realized" I wasn't "smart" like the boys in my class. I began to find my self-esteem, and largely my identity, in social groups, clothes, hobbies, and boys - not in school. I always had good grades, but I remained painfully aware that I wasn't "smart" like other people.
Fast forward a few years.
I went to college.
I came in contact with teachers who were women, who were beautiful, who were married, and yet not afraid to be themselves - they found identity and purpose in their intelligence. They were empowered by their intellectual development, not embarrassed by it. I remember being glued to my seat, listening to them speak. My entire body was on fire. I had FINALLY caught a shimmer, a glimpse of who I wanted to be. I had been walking around feeling empty inside, and I hadn't realized why. Looking back now, I see why. I had been "dumbing down" my mind's voice, and consequently, in a very real sense, I had been "dumbing down" my own life's experience.
I have discovered my own source of empowerment as I have allowed my mind to be fully, and more completely developed. I finally have a voice I'm no longer afraid to let others hear.
But then...
Last weekend I was talking to a guy, and in the course of our conversation I used several words he did not know. He asked me to explain, and I actually APOLOGIZED for using words too big and then I proceeded to feel EMBARRASSED about using said words. As soon as the moment passed I thought about Orenstein's research. I felt disappointment, and shame as I realized I was STILL one of the girls from her 1994 research.
Are you?
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
conscience break with rationaliazation to follow
Do you ever have those days that seem to fly by, despite the fact that at the end of the day you have no idea what exactly you've done to pass the time?
I believe summer was MADE for days like that. Sadly reader, I have this sinking suspicion that my lazy summer days are numbered. Soon, I will graduate. Society will force my hand at a job that will "keep me on task", include "fifteen minute breaks" and if I'm lucky a community "break room" stocked with a smelly refrigerator.
Tonight, however, I smile and relish in the fact that it's 1 AM and I'm sitting naked, drinking herbal tea, waiting for a new cd to download instead of snoozing away the steamy, hot night.
This brings us, however, to the crux of the issue. I have inherited - from my parents no doubt - a propensity for guilt brought on by an immensely bourgeoisie conscience. In other words, I get mini-panic attacks when I think about my pitiful savings despite the looming future that will undoubtedly call for payment. I can't help but chastise myself for not having at least 24 jobs-one for every hour of the day!
Alas, the summer is almost to a close, and while I undoubtedly feel guilt for not having the minimum 24 summer jobs, I do feel a grand sense of delinquent satisfaction.
This summer I have allowed myself freedom. I have been freed from the chains of an alarm clock, packed lunches, tyrannical bosses, bothersome co-workers, rigid routines, and the over all pains induced by pretending to work. (If you've ever worked for BYU you know EXACTLY what I mean about pretending to work.) All in all, I have given myself the opportunity for exploration and expression. I have followed after my own passions in order to see where they might go.
Tonight I lie awake just to listen. Some of my favorite sounds are sounds of the night: crickets chirping, a train blowing in the distance, wind passing through trees, (and more specifically to Florida) frogs croaking, owls hooting, and thunder rolling in the distance. It feels lovely just to listen. To take the time to hear. It's in these moments that I consider myself wise to have allowed one last summer of potential. Wherein every hour holds the likelihood for a new adventure, and the nights are just as lovely as the days.
Completely Random Side Note: Reader this entry, and this blogg in general if I get real honest, has made it painfully clear to me that I'm a Romantic. Yes, that's right. Romantic with a capital "R". I'm not sure yet how to digest this. Any thoughts, for better or for worse, would be greatly appreciated.
I believe summer was MADE for days like that. Sadly reader, I have this sinking suspicion that my lazy summer days are numbered. Soon, I will graduate. Society will force my hand at a job that will "keep me on task", include "fifteen minute breaks" and if I'm lucky a community "break room" stocked with a smelly refrigerator.
Tonight, however, I smile and relish in the fact that it's 1 AM and I'm sitting naked, drinking herbal tea, waiting for a new cd to download instead of snoozing away the steamy, hot night.
This brings us, however, to the crux of the issue. I have inherited - from my parents no doubt - a propensity for guilt brought on by an immensely bourgeoisie conscience. In other words, I get mini-panic attacks when I think about my pitiful savings despite the looming future that will undoubtedly call for payment. I can't help but chastise myself for not having at least 24 jobs-one for every hour of the day!
Alas, the summer is almost to a close, and while I undoubtedly feel guilt for not having the minimum 24 summer jobs, I do feel a grand sense of delinquent satisfaction.
This summer I have allowed myself freedom. I have been freed from the chains of an alarm clock, packed lunches, tyrannical bosses, bothersome co-workers, rigid routines, and the over all pains induced by pretending to work. (If you've ever worked for BYU you know EXACTLY what I mean about pretending to work.) All in all, I have given myself the opportunity for exploration and expression. I have followed after my own passions in order to see where they might go.
Tonight I lie awake just to listen. Some of my favorite sounds are sounds of the night: crickets chirping, a train blowing in the distance, wind passing through trees, (and more specifically to Florida) frogs croaking, owls hooting, and thunder rolling in the distance. It feels lovely just to listen. To take the time to hear. It's in these moments that I consider myself wise to have allowed one last summer of potential. Wherein every hour holds the likelihood for a new adventure, and the nights are just as lovely as the days.
Completely Random Side Note: Reader this entry, and this blogg in general if I get real honest, has made it painfully clear to me that I'm a Romantic. Yes, that's right. Romantic with a capital "R". I'm not sure yet how to digest this. Any thoughts, for better or for worse, would be greatly appreciated.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
propaganda for arcade fire....parce que je les aime
Arcade Fire has FINALLY come out with another cd! Never heard of them?! Check em out! Under "Just the Songs" you can listen to 2 of the songs from the album. Personally, I'm in love...let me know what YOU think!
Saturday, August 7, 2010
how do i love thee? let me count the ways...
Raplh Waldo Emerson. I love this guy.
I love him so much, in fact, that I want to name my first unborn son after him. (Well ok the Emerson part of his name. I'm not really feeling Raplh. Or Waldo for that matter.)
Verses penned by Emerson have literally changed me. My nature, thought process, and even self-image, have all been pulled out, examined, and redefined. Nothing is as it once was.
Reader, what have YOU read this summer that has similarly made you grow and think? If the answer is nothing, then I highly suggest you change that. Experiment with the power of transcendental thought, and immerse yourself in the pages of "Self-Relience" or "An American Scholar." I say, without the slightest hesitation, that if you allow yourself the time to read and ponder, thoughts will play upon your mind that will unfold to you your potential as a human being, and a creation of our God.
"American Scholar" poses the thought that you're not a banker, or a farmer, or a teacher, or a manger. Instead you are a HUMAN BEING who happens to bank, or farm, or teach, or manage. Our humanity is not defined by what we DO, but what we think and become. As children of the ALL KNOWING, we likewise have the potential, duty, and privilege of making our own pilgrimage to enlightenment-to becoming our own version of all knowing. We must climb the erudite ladder, with the focus of exploration our ENTIRE lives. Education is the power by which we gain awareness, and become-if we allow it to-closer to our God. In essence, we become like him, which is the destiny of all of humanity. By largely ignoring our minds and encumbering our intellectual reach, we are denying our innate objective-to be like God. Why then do we ever stop the search for higher intellectual awareness? Why do we ever stop learning?
"Self Reliance" is beautiful because you begin to feel utterly convinced that you hold, within your tiny hand the power of all creation. You hold the power within yourself to become who you want to become. You need nothing more than your own intellect and will power. "A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across HIS MIND FROM WITHIN, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages." Depend on the power of your OWN genius, and search out your OWN purpose, and look naught at others for emulation. "Envy is IGNORANCE; Imitation is SUICIDE." Stop conforming to what everyone else THINKS you should be, and truly be yourself. Envy and imitation only weaken the strength of your own soul-while turning your destiny into disarray.
Reader, I hope this incredibly TINY bit of Ralph Waldo Emerson has made you too catch his vision of humanity-and therefore of yourself. I hope you can see the magnitude of your own power. I hope this has inspired you to pick up his work, and begin your own journey of self exploration.
"To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men,-that is genius." What does it mean to be "genius"? Does it mean living for YOU? Is there really one truth for all, or is truth merely subjective? Perhaps the only truth that really matters is the truth you discover, for yourself, from within.
I love him so much, in fact, that I want to name my first unborn son after him. (Well ok the Emerson part of his name. I'm not really feeling Raplh. Or Waldo for that matter.)
Verses penned by Emerson have literally changed me. My nature, thought process, and even self-image, have all been pulled out, examined, and redefined. Nothing is as it once was.
Reader, what have YOU read this summer that has similarly made you grow and think? If the answer is nothing, then I highly suggest you change that. Experiment with the power of transcendental thought, and immerse yourself in the pages of "Self-Relience" or "An American Scholar." I say, without the slightest hesitation, that if you allow yourself the time to read and ponder, thoughts will play upon your mind that will unfold to you your potential as a human being, and a creation of our God.
"American Scholar" poses the thought that you're not a banker, or a farmer, or a teacher, or a manger. Instead you are a HUMAN BEING who happens to bank, or farm, or teach, or manage. Our humanity is not defined by what we DO, but what we think and become. As children of the ALL KNOWING, we likewise have the potential, duty, and privilege of making our own pilgrimage to enlightenment-to becoming our own version of all knowing. We must climb the erudite ladder, with the focus of exploration our ENTIRE lives. Education is the power by which we gain awareness, and become-if we allow it to-closer to our God. In essence, we become like him, which is the destiny of all of humanity. By largely ignoring our minds and encumbering our intellectual reach, we are denying our innate objective-to be like God. Why then do we ever stop the search for higher intellectual awareness? Why do we ever stop learning?
"Self Reliance" is beautiful because you begin to feel utterly convinced that you hold, within your tiny hand the power of all creation. You hold the power within yourself to become who you want to become. You need nothing more than your own intellect and will power. "A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across HIS MIND FROM WITHIN, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages." Depend on the power of your OWN genius, and search out your OWN purpose, and look naught at others for emulation. "Envy is IGNORANCE; Imitation is SUICIDE." Stop conforming to what everyone else THINKS you should be, and truly be yourself. Envy and imitation only weaken the strength of your own soul-while turning your destiny into disarray.
Reader, I hope this incredibly TINY bit of Ralph Waldo Emerson has made you too catch his vision of humanity-and therefore of yourself. I hope you can see the magnitude of your own power. I hope this has inspired you to pick up his work, and begin your own journey of self exploration.
"To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men,-that is genius." What does it mean to be "genius"? Does it mean living for YOU? Is there really one truth for all, or is truth merely subjective? Perhaps the only truth that really matters is the truth you discover, for yourself, from within.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Frivolity in Words, Excess of Thought
Ok reader how do you feel about the revamped blog?? I needed a change...so I started here. Don't be shy-tell me what you REALLY think!
And if anyone could tell me how to add the gadget that secretly tells me how many people log on, that would be great! For the longest time I resisted the urge of knowing who, if anyone, actually read my blog. Naturally, curiosity has gotten the best of me. I'm hoping for no surprises. Well, a surprise or 2 would be nice! Ok so maybe I AM hoping for a surprise subscriber or 2...but, as they should be, expectations are low.
I mean really, there are MILLIONS of blogs out there. Sadly, all you have to judge mine by-if you don't know me-is my title name. I can just imagine the likely perusal: "My heart is an apple? WTF?! I don't even know what that meansssss...NEXT!" I 'm missing all the arsty-farsty photographs in every nick and cranny....or pictures of unique places that I've been....or the extensive lists that proof just how cool I am. In short, I don't really "get" technology so my blog looks rather stark. Which brings me to the sudden change I've made. I think it's an improvement. I mean, I think I look cooler. Ok. New confession that's painfully obvious: I'm self-conscious about my blog.
Reader, a sudden new thought has seized my heart! I'm going to stick my tongue out at my self-conscious self. So here I go....I'm making a list of all the things that I'm painfully mortified about. If I'm really brave, I'll never erase this list. (We'll see if it lasts through the night.) Phew. Ok. Here I go...
Hopefully everyone has stopped reading this very frivolous and extremely pointless blog entry by now...fingers crossed!
1. the plethora of grey hairs on my head
2. hair in general...i mean the hair NOT on my head or eyebrows. yuck.
3. my weight. duh. of course. i'm a girl
4. spelling. i'm a horrible speller! SPELL CHECK has saved me from embarrassment SO many times....unfortunately, however, not ALL the time.
5. i've got to be the worst person, on the entire planet, at math. i try to avoid any situation that may include anything more than basic addition, subtraction, and in some cases multiplication.
6. i snort when i laugh. it's embarrassing!
7. depending on what i eat...i'm a walking time bomb of gas
8. my eyebrows. do you know anyone else who has to trim theirs?!
9. my sometimes apparent lack of knowledge, culture, and (dare i say it??) class. Case in point. Perhaps this entry isn't the smartest, or classiest thing I've ever written. ha!
10. i wanna be a good writer one day. this blog is a pseudo scratch pad for trial and error. I expect to write a lot of really bad stuff, before something pretty good comes outta me. until then, i'm self-conscious about my blog/anything i write.
Ok that lists feel pretty good. Somehow putting it out there doesn't make it so scary. Reader, if you've made it this far, then i suggest you leave a comment telling me what you think about the new blog diggs, along with something YOUR self-conscious about. Come on, show your self-conscious self who's boss!
And if anyone could tell me how to add the gadget that secretly tells me how many people log on, that would be great! For the longest time I resisted the urge of knowing who, if anyone, actually read my blog. Naturally, curiosity has gotten the best of me. I'm hoping for no surprises. Well, a surprise or 2 would be nice! Ok so maybe I AM hoping for a surprise subscriber or 2...but, as they should be, expectations are low.
I mean really, there are MILLIONS of blogs out there. Sadly, all you have to judge mine by-if you don't know me-is my title name. I can just imagine the likely perusal: "My heart is an apple? WTF?! I don't even know what that meansssss...NEXT!" I 'm missing all the arsty-farsty photographs in every nick and cranny....or pictures of unique places that I've been....or the extensive lists that proof just how cool I am. In short, I don't really "get" technology so my blog looks rather stark. Which brings me to the sudden change I've made. I think it's an improvement. I mean, I think I look cooler. Ok. New confession that's painfully obvious: I'm self-conscious about my blog.
Reader, a sudden new thought has seized my heart! I'm going to stick my tongue out at my self-conscious self. So here I go....I'm making a list of all the things that I'm painfully mortified about. If I'm really brave, I'll never erase this list. (We'll see if it lasts through the night.) Phew. Ok. Here I go...
Hopefully everyone has stopped reading this very frivolous and extremely pointless blog entry by now...fingers crossed!
1. the plethora of grey hairs on my head
2. hair in general...i mean the hair NOT on my head or eyebrows. yuck.
3. my weight. duh. of course. i'm a girl
4. spelling. i'm a horrible speller! SPELL CHECK has saved me from embarrassment SO many times....unfortunately, however, not ALL the time.
5. i've got to be the worst person, on the entire planet, at math. i try to avoid any situation that may include anything more than basic addition, subtraction, and in some cases multiplication.
6. i snort when i laugh. it's embarrassing!
7. depending on what i eat...i'm a walking time bomb of gas
8. my eyebrows. do you know anyone else who has to trim theirs?!
9. my sometimes apparent lack of knowledge, culture, and (dare i say it??) class. Case in point. Perhaps this entry isn't the smartest, or classiest thing I've ever written. ha!
10. i wanna be a good writer one day. this blog is a pseudo scratch pad for trial and error. I expect to write a lot of really bad stuff, before something pretty good comes outta me. until then, i'm self-conscious about my blog/anything i write.
Ok that lists feel pretty good. Somehow putting it out there doesn't make it so scary. Reader, if you've made it this far, then i suggest you leave a comment telling me what you think about the new blog diggs, along with something YOUR self-conscious about. Come on, show your self-conscious self who's boss!
Monday, July 19, 2010
The" Real" and 2 words you really need to know
I saw Inception this morning. It was, I have to admit, absolutely AMAZING. The 2.5 hours I spent in the movie theater passed without me noticing, and when it ended I was sad to leave the world they had masterfully created.
It makes my head spin, however, to think of the shear number of blog postings Inception will undoubtedly inspire. Therefore, I will keep my comments to a minimum in order to resist accumulating myself into the cliched masses of Inception bloggers.
1. If you like Inception I HIGHLY recommend Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind.
2. As you watch, notice that time is extremely flexible and powerfully subjective. Then think of Stephen Hawking (genius!) AND my previous blog post. :-)
3. I love questioning the "real". This is why I'm an English major. Never be afraid to question your own perception of reality; never be afraid to question what you THINK is real.
That is all. Moving on...
Reader, I have a confession to make. I have not posted anything for 3 weeks (thanks for noticing mom! it feels good to know someone anticipates my musings...)because I've been afraid of my own thoughts. Have you ever tried to run from, and ignore your own mind? Somehow you think if you can just pretend it's not there, it will eventually go away. But then one day you realize that all your pretending has actually been covering up pieces of you. You're then left wondering-who are you really? Has the pretense, and the facade been a process of self-discovery or self-denial?
Reader, do you ever feel like you're the only one in the entire world that could possibly feel this way? Even as I write I wonder why I feel so save in confessing so much to the stark illusion of "real" and "readership" known as a blog? Which in turn begs the question, is my blog a catalyst into self-discovery or self-denial?
In other news, I'm studying for the GRE, and in the process I have found 2 especially lovely words:
Gregarious-sociable; outgoing; enjoying the company of other people...for some reason that word, along with it's definition, makes me smile
Ebullience-the quality of lively or enthusiastic expression of thoughts and feelings
I hope one describes me, and the other is something I offer to those around me.
It makes my head spin, however, to think of the shear number of blog postings Inception will undoubtedly inspire. Therefore, I will keep my comments to a minimum in order to resist accumulating myself into the cliched masses of Inception bloggers.
1. If you like Inception I HIGHLY recommend Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind.
2. As you watch, notice that time is extremely flexible and powerfully subjective. Then think of Stephen Hawking (genius!) AND my previous blog post. :-)
3. I love questioning the "real". This is why I'm an English major. Never be afraid to question your own perception of reality; never be afraid to question what you THINK is real.
That is all. Moving on...
Reader, I have a confession to make. I have not posted anything for 3 weeks (thanks for noticing mom! it feels good to know someone anticipates my musings...)because I've been afraid of my own thoughts. Have you ever tried to run from, and ignore your own mind? Somehow you think if you can just pretend it's not there, it will eventually go away. But then one day you realize that all your pretending has actually been covering up pieces of you. You're then left wondering-who are you really? Has the pretense, and the facade been a process of self-discovery or self-denial?
Reader, do you ever feel like you're the only one in the entire world that could possibly feel this way? Even as I write I wonder why I feel so save in confessing so much to the stark illusion of "real" and "readership" known as a blog? Which in turn begs the question, is my blog a catalyst into self-discovery or self-denial?
In other news, I'm studying for the GRE, and in the process I have found 2 especially lovely words:
Gregarious-sociable; outgoing; enjoying the company of other people...for some reason that word, along with it's definition, makes me smile
Ebullience-the quality of lively or enthusiastic expression of thoughts and feelings
I hope one describes me, and the other is something I offer to those around me.
Monday, June 28, 2010
a man on the side of the road
I was driving on the freeway and I saw a homeless man walking on the side of the road with a dog. Seeing the man with the dog made me happy. I was happy to see he wasn't alone.
I reflected back on my childhood. As a child I thought it was unfair that a dog should be stuck with anyone who was homeless. I assumed that if they couldn't feed themselves, then there was no way they could feed the dog. The dog needed to be with a family, and have a real home. That was the "right" way to bring up an animal.
As I sped past the man walking along the freeway, I reflected on why I had changed so much. Why had the picture of a homeless man and his dog bring me so much joy? Instantly, and without thought, the answer came as a voice into my mind: "You've changed because now you understand what it means to be alone." Loneliness has been my great teacher; a demanding master, but one who has taught me greater empathy and love.
A painful lesson, but one worth learning.
I reflected back on my childhood. As a child I thought it was unfair that a dog should be stuck with anyone who was homeless. I assumed that if they couldn't feed themselves, then there was no way they could feed the dog. The dog needed to be with a family, and have a real home. That was the "right" way to bring up an animal.
As I sped past the man walking along the freeway, I reflected on why I had changed so much. Why had the picture of a homeless man and his dog bring me so much joy? Instantly, and without thought, the answer came as a voice into my mind: "You've changed because now you understand what it means to be alone." Loneliness has been my great teacher; a demanding master, but one who has taught me greater empathy and love.
A painful lesson, but one worth learning.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Stephen Hawking
Time travel.
It's real my friends. My new hero, Stephen Hawking, proved it to me via the discovery channel. Thank you Stephen.
This is Stephen. He's bloody brilliant.
Actually let me re-phrase that. Time travel into the FUTURE is possible. They've already proved it in fact. Time travel into the PAST, however, is a completely different matter; nature, in her great wisdom, does not allow it. Traveling backwards leaves room for too many paradoxes, which would then leave the future unclear at best.
I find it so interesting that going back is not allowed- by nature, by God, and in many real instances, by man. No matter how much we scream and kick, no matter how much we punish ourselves, and no matter how much we wish, the past will never change. Even science cannot erase what has been.
I used to be plagued with a desire to revisit my past. It was a cancer to my mind and soul.
I wanted to go back to the day I made THAT decision. I take it back. All of it. Or I wanted to go back to THAT relationship. I can make it better, I know I can. This time I will make it work.
And I wanted to go back to THAT moment in Europe when I was sure the world was mine for the taking. This time I would REALLY cherish it. This time it would mean so much more.
God, can't I go back, for just one day, to my childhood? Where my parents protected me from all I feared. When friends appeared endless; in the days of never ending suns.
Thank you Stephen for the lesson. I walked away feeling as if I understood complex astro-physics, and that I more fully understood nature, and therefore myself, and consequently God - the creator of both. If we wish to "go back" we need only to embrace where we've been and then move forward a different person; with hope that the future will mean more BECAUSE of where we've been.
Time is not a concrete element.
It can be bent and manipulated
But not by my hand.
Only with my mind.
It's real my friends. My new hero, Stephen Hawking, proved it to me via the discovery channel. Thank you Stephen.
This is Stephen. He's bloody brilliant.
Actually let me re-phrase that. Time travel into the FUTURE is possible. They've already proved it in fact. Time travel into the PAST, however, is a completely different matter; nature, in her great wisdom, does not allow it. Traveling backwards leaves room for too many paradoxes, which would then leave the future unclear at best.
I find it so interesting that going back is not allowed- by nature, by God, and in many real instances, by man. No matter how much we scream and kick, no matter how much we punish ourselves, and no matter how much we wish, the past will never change. Even science cannot erase what has been.
I used to be plagued with a desire to revisit my past. It was a cancer to my mind and soul.
I wanted to go back to the day I made THAT decision. I take it back. All of it. Or I wanted to go back to THAT relationship. I can make it better, I know I can. This time I will make it work.
And I wanted to go back to THAT moment in Europe when I was sure the world was mine for the taking. This time I would REALLY cherish it. This time it would mean so much more.
God, can't I go back, for just one day, to my childhood? Where my parents protected me from all I feared. When friends appeared endless; in the days of never ending suns.
Thank you Stephen for the lesson. I walked away feeling as if I understood complex astro-physics, and that I more fully understood nature, and therefore myself, and consequently God - the creator of both. If we wish to "go back" we need only to embrace where we've been and then move forward a different person; with hope that the future will mean more BECAUSE of where we've been.
Time is not a concrete element.
It can be bent and manipulated
But not by my hand.
Only with my mind.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
a little less conversation, a little more action
I've been trying to do some volunteer work this summer, but every organization of interest has been full and doesn't need any more help. Naturally, I begin to think: Seriously?! You're turning down volunteers?! Do you know how hard it is to volunteer in a town chock full of bored, do-gooder Mormons?! GAH!
Sometimes being around so many over achievers is exhausting.
Yesterday I was at J's apartment, when a girl mentioned that she was reading a book that was slowly turning her into a feminist. I smiled and jokingly exclaimed, "yes! another one is joining our camp!" Everyone else got quit and glossed over my comment.
When will "feminist" no longer be considered a 4 letter word?
Developing a relationship, and especially love within a relationship is so very fragile. Too much space and it will go out. Not enough room and it will die. It's a balance - a delicate dance of action and response. I guess that's why they call it a flame. Every spark is a potential, but only the right mix of materials makes a fire.
That's what I want. FIRE.
Sometimes being around so many over achievers is exhausting.
Yesterday I was at J's apartment, when a girl mentioned that she was reading a book that was slowly turning her into a feminist. I smiled and jokingly exclaimed, "yes! another one is joining our camp!" Everyone else got quit and glossed over my comment.
When will "feminist" no longer be considered a 4 letter word?
Developing a relationship, and especially love within a relationship is so very fragile. Too much space and it will go out. Not enough room and it will die. It's a balance - a delicate dance of action and response. I guess that's why they call it a flame. Every spark is a potential, but only the right mix of materials makes a fire.
That's what I want. FIRE.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
We're Just Good Ol' Pals
6 years ago I met someone that would change my life forever.
She was lost. Like so many other times in life, we helped each other figure out where we were going.
I asked her to sit by me. It was a simple question, but one that has changed my life forever. You see, that seemingly unimportant exchange, was actually a profound moment : I met Whitney Smith.
This is a list for all the world to see! This is who Whitney Smith is. Isn't she beautiful?
She has been my ultimate source of friendship
She has made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry
She has given me self-esteem when all I saw were flaws and defeat
She has allowed me to be who I am and loved me for it
She has supported me (and my family) despite set backs, disappointments, and tough times
She never gossips (and that's sayin' something!)
She always sees the best in people
She is forgiving - she holds no grudges and never looks back
She is an example to me of who I can become and the power of free thought, dreams, and hard work
She is absolutely gorgeous and doesn't even know it
She willingly sacrifices for others
She's not afraid of anything...including the words, "I'm sorry" and "I love you"
She lights up any room she walks in
She has this special talent of making people feel special and comfortable with who they are
She has SO MANY TALENTS I don't even know where to begin...
She grabs life my the horns, firmly with both hands. She rides life. Not the other way around.
She has a strong and steadfast testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Evident by the way she lives.
She was lost. Like so many other times in life, we helped each other figure out where we were going.
I asked her to sit by me. It was a simple question, but one that has changed my life forever. You see, that seemingly unimportant exchange, was actually a profound moment : I met Whitney Smith.
This is a list for all the world to see! This is who Whitney Smith is. Isn't she beautiful?
She has been my ultimate source of friendship
She has made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry
She has given me self-esteem when all I saw were flaws and defeat
She has allowed me to be who I am and loved me for it
She has supported me (and my family) despite set backs, disappointments, and tough times
She never gossips (and that's sayin' something!)
She always sees the best in people
She is forgiving - she holds no grudges and never looks back
She is an example to me of who I can become and the power of free thought, dreams, and hard work
She is absolutely gorgeous and doesn't even know it
She willingly sacrifices for others
She's not afraid of anything...including the words, "I'm sorry" and "I love you"
She lights up any room she walks in
She has this special talent of making people feel special and comfortable with who they are
She has SO MANY TALENTS I don't even know where to begin...
She grabs life my the horns, firmly with both hands. She rides life. Not the other way around.
She has a strong and steadfast testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Evident by the way she lives.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WHITNEY SMITH.
I Love You.
I Love You.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Ode to my Father
It's eleven-thirty at night, and I'm watching an infomercial on television because it reminds me of my dad.
The infomercial is one based on music from the 1950s. Displaying such pleasures as bobby darin, the everly brothers, paul anka, the shirelles, and the chiffons. (Man, they certainly don't name music groups like that anymore, eh dad?)
Every time the hosts appear, dressed in their ridicules pseudo 1950s outfits, I cringe at their over the top selling schemes.
But I patiently sit through the less-than-tasteful salesmanship, and wait for the music. It's the sounds of my childhood. It's the sounds of my father. It's every saturday morning as I groggily rolled out of bed. It's part of why I love him. It's part of him, and consequently a part of me.
I am sitting here listening to the infomercial repeat through the words, and through the music for one reason; because it makes me feel as if my father is here.
I'd give anything to have him here with me now. Singing along, and hearing the stories he's attached to these songs. In other words, to be with him and hear of his life. I'd give anything...
I miss you dad.
The infomercial is one based on music from the 1950s. Displaying such pleasures as bobby darin, the everly brothers, paul anka, the shirelles, and the chiffons. (Man, they certainly don't name music groups like that anymore, eh dad?)
Every time the hosts appear, dressed in their ridicules pseudo 1950s outfits, I cringe at their over the top selling schemes.
But I patiently sit through the less-than-tasteful salesmanship, and wait for the music. It's the sounds of my childhood. It's the sounds of my father. It's every saturday morning as I groggily rolled out of bed. It's part of why I love him. It's part of him, and consequently a part of me.
I am sitting here listening to the infomercial repeat through the words, and through the music for one reason; because it makes me feel as if my father is here.
I'd give anything to have him here with me now. Singing along, and hearing the stories he's attached to these songs. In other words, to be with him and hear of his life. I'd give anything...
I miss you dad.
The Writing Place
A real writer told me once that you have to go to the painful places and stay there.
Then when you think you can't stand another minute- you write.
You write about THAT place. You write about THOSE feelings.
..............................................................
I stare into my eyes - all blemishes and flaws melt away.
What remains is foreign. I don't recognize her.
There is only Potential staring back - timid and scared.
This is called Ramona by Cassandra Christensen-Barney, one of my favorite artists. I went to a lecture of hers. She inspired me.
Then when you think you can't stand another minute- you write.
You write about THAT place. You write about THOSE feelings.
..............................................................
I stare into my eyes - all blemishes and flaws melt away.
What remains is foreign. I don't recognize her.
There is only Potential staring back - timid and scared.
This is called Ramona by Cassandra Christensen-Barney, one of my favorite artists. I went to a lecture of hers. She inspired me.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Someon Told Me Once
Someone told me once I was moody. In offense, I denied all allegations and shrugged off any thought that they could be right. But I kinda wonder if they're right. Is it normal to be moody? Or maybe most people just don't express themselves. I've never been very good at covering up how I feel.
Someone told me once I had eyes that communicated more than my words could express. I've watched other people's eyes. Almost all eyes communicate something: sadness, excitement, boredom, pain, lies, hope. How are mine any different? Or is he seeing in my eyes the words he wants to hear?
Someone told me once that they loved me. Did they even know me? How much did they love me? What kind of love was it? Was it the kind that changes your soul forever, heals all broken pieces, and becomes an addiction that only they can satisfy? Probably not.They left. But they told me once...
Someone told me once that I have a really loud laugh. I hate it when people say that to me. Every time someone says that to me, I picture myself putting my mouth right next to their ear and laughing so loud, and so hard, that they instantly become deaf. Aren't laughs the ONE thing in this world that should be loud?
Someone told me once that I will be successful. I don't even know what that means anymore. I've analyzed, planned, and fought so long for success that it's become distorted. I don't recognize her anymore. Where is she? What does she look like? How will I know when I find her? Success. Failure. Who can tell them a part anymore? How do you know if you're flying...or falling?
I love this painting. It's by Taras Lobodas. He's Ukrainian. I think that makes me like it even more.
Someone told me once I had eyes that communicated more than my words could express. I've watched other people's eyes. Almost all eyes communicate something: sadness, excitement, boredom, pain, lies, hope. How are mine any different? Or is he seeing in my eyes the words he wants to hear?
Someone told me once that they loved me. Did they even know me? How much did they love me? What kind of love was it? Was it the kind that changes your soul forever, heals all broken pieces, and becomes an addiction that only they can satisfy? Probably not.They left. But they told me once...
Someone told me once that I have a really loud laugh. I hate it when people say that to me. Every time someone says that to me, I picture myself putting my mouth right next to their ear and laughing so loud, and so hard, that they instantly become deaf. Aren't laughs the ONE thing in this world that should be loud?
Someone told me once that I will be successful. I don't even know what that means anymore. I've analyzed, planned, and fought so long for success that it's become distorted. I don't recognize her anymore. Where is she? What does she look like? How will I know when I find her? Success. Failure. Who can tell them a part anymore? How do you know if you're flying...or falling?
I love this painting. It's by Taras Lobodas. He's Ukrainian. I think that makes me like it even more.
A Re-Goal!
Reader, I think I may have over estimated myself. I set a goal that I would do a blog a day. A blog a day?! I couldn't even go a week before I messed that one up! So much for that streak, eh?! Ha!
Oh well...
But hey, I think every other day or perhaps 5 times a week is still an accomplishment and very do-able. BESIDES...if I do one post a day, my readership (3 people) will grow accustomed to my entries. My blogging genius will become another part of their everyday lives...like brushing teeth. So expect a lot of awesome new entries to follow...just not everyday.
Oh well...
But hey, I think every other day or perhaps 5 times a week is still an accomplishment and very do-able. BESIDES...if I do one post a day, my readership (3 people) will grow accustomed to my entries. My blogging genius will become another part of their everyday lives...like brushing teeth. So expect a lot of awesome new entries to follow...just not everyday.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
summer chats
One of the beautiful things about life are conversations that leave you hopeful, confident, and stimulated.
I've had 2 today.
I'm one lucky girl.
I've had 2 today.
I'm one lucky girl.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Death Be Not Proud
I have always been afraid of death. Always. When I was younger, I was obsessed with the idea of a permanent separation from this life. It seemed cruel to rip a person away from this world, away from family and friends. I couldn't help but think, I LOVE living! Why would I ever want to die?
Every funeral, made me think of my own; every casket seemed ready to display my remains; and every headstone appeared ready to etch my name in it's stone.
I became curious and fascinated:
What would the headstone say?
Would anyone really come and visit me?
Would I care?
Where would I rest?
Would I even like where I ended up?
Over the years, I have grown to not only fear death it's self, but all earthly resemblances of death; to fear all the euphemisms we have appointed to those who have left this earth. You know: the caked on make-up which covers their faces and hands; super glue used to glue the mouth shut; flowers that cover the smell of the dead; the hearse that slowly creeps toward the cemetery; the bright green grass that appears lush and beautiful as it creates a facade of life while covering death and decay; and the embalming process - removing all semblances of life - is something that I have always hated to think about. CREEPY!
Anyway,
This has led me to ponder my own death and what I want. Naturally.
For me, I have decided that the least creepy post-death ritual I would like to endure is cremation. That's right reader, I want to be cremated. I have decided it's the most sanitary processes, the least ritualistic, and the most likely choice for me. I feel good about it. I would like my ashes (dust to dust, right?) spread around rather than in some creepy shrine for people to come and "visit" me in.
A shrine of death? Yuck!
Here's what confuses me though: everyone (and their mother!) thinks it's there responsibility to try and change my mind about cremation! Why? Why are so many people freaked out at the thought of removal by fire, and NOT freaked out by the thought of removal by earth worms?! I have most likely thought about the whole death processes more than most people, and I have decided that this is what I want; so then why are so many people disturbed by it?
Good Question Right?
Well, I have thought about this for awhile and the only conclusion I can come up with is that for most people the idea of having a wake (creepy!) and then being buried (super creepy!) is what brings them comfort. The process and the ritual is what allows them to let go. Perhaps the normalcy of the sales man at the funeral home, complex family arrangements, and the tombstone of accomplishments is what makes them feel like all is right in the world. Their loved one is gone, but they are still here. The world hasn't completely changed just because their personal world has been permanently altered. I get that.
I just don't get why they don't get me...or cremation for that matter. And I'll never understand why, without fail, everyone appears more disturbed by cremation, than by the death...or the rituals that surround us.
Every funeral, made me think of my own; every casket seemed ready to display my remains; and every headstone appeared ready to etch my name in it's stone.
I became curious and fascinated:
What would the headstone say?
Would anyone really come and visit me?
Would I care?
Where would I rest?
Would I even like where I ended up?
Over the years, I have grown to not only fear death it's self, but all earthly resemblances of death; to fear all the euphemisms we have appointed to those who have left this earth. You know: the caked on make-up which covers their faces and hands; super glue used to glue the mouth shut; flowers that cover the smell of the dead; the hearse that slowly creeps toward the cemetery; the bright green grass that appears lush and beautiful as it creates a facade of life while covering death and decay; and the embalming process - removing all semblances of life - is something that I have always hated to think about. CREEPY!
Anyway,
This has led me to ponder my own death and what I want. Naturally.
For me, I have decided that the least creepy post-death ritual I would like to endure is cremation. That's right reader, I want to be cremated. I have decided it's the most sanitary processes, the least ritualistic, and the most likely choice for me. I feel good about it. I would like my ashes (dust to dust, right?) spread around rather than in some creepy shrine for people to come and "visit" me in.
A shrine of death? Yuck!
Here's what confuses me though: everyone (and their mother!) thinks it's there responsibility to try and change my mind about cremation! Why? Why are so many people freaked out at the thought of removal by fire, and NOT freaked out by the thought of removal by earth worms?! I have most likely thought about the whole death processes more than most people, and I have decided that this is what I want; so then why are so many people disturbed by it?
Good Question Right?
Well, I have thought about this for awhile and the only conclusion I can come up with is that for most people the idea of having a wake (creepy!) and then being buried (super creepy!) is what brings them comfort. The process and the ritual is what allows them to let go. Perhaps the normalcy of the sales man at the funeral home, complex family arrangements, and the tombstone of accomplishments is what makes them feel like all is right in the world. Their loved one is gone, but they are still here. The world hasn't completely changed just because their personal world has been permanently altered. I get that.
I just don't get why they don't get me...or cremation for that matter. And I'll never understand why, without fail, everyone appears more disturbed by cremation, than by the death...or the rituals that surround us.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Day 1
Hello Summer. I feel as if we are finally being introduced. My name is Ashley and I'm ready to take a BIG bite out of you.
Bite number 1. I woke up to my greek god texting me. I found out his name (finally!) which is quite a relief; unfortunately i just found out that he's off to Hawaii in celebration for graduating. Which means our first date will have to be in at least another week. Somehow I'm going to have to balance J in a limbo state for a few more days. Poor guy. I really do like him. I think he's just amazing...
I think...i'm ready to be in love again (perhaps admitting and then posting it on the internet will somehow make it more real.)
*side note: included in bite number 1 is the mere fact that I told the greek god that i found him attractive and then asked for his number. He promptly admitted that he had been trying to find a good way to ask me for my number. OH YA! I still can't believe I told a guy he was attractive and then followed that up by asking for his digits. That is SO NOT ME! Perhaps that should tell you reader just how attractive he was!
Bite number 2. While i was at the NULC i was inspired to once again write. When i was a girl i would pull out our old typewriter (remember those things? what horrid contraptions!) and spend hours upon hours writing stories. Most of them were rather ridicules, but a few would make my mother laugh and comment on my skill and imagination. But that's not even the point. The point was i LOVED writing. i craved opportunities to sit down and write. it didn't even matter what i was writing about, just as long as my thoughts could escape my head. Then when i was in 4th grade i took a stupid standardized test. i didn't write a 5 paragraph essay and consequently they gave me a low score. I had thought i was so good at writing, but there it was in front of me - my low score screamed up at me that i sucked at writing. I was embarrassed and left vulnerable; i believed them - i was a horrible writer. So i gave up. 15 years later, at the conference, i realized i had stopped writing because i had allowed them to tell me what i was good at. How stupid is that?!
I want my 15 years back.
I want to be a great (not just good) writer.
So i'm starting now: everyday i'm going to write in my blog. I need to find my voice...and the practice! You know the 10,000 hours rule? I feel like I'll be taking a BIG bite out of that one this summer. Hence, this is bite number 2. And I apologize now reader. Sometimes i may write crap. But as writer Ana Menendez said at the NULC, "don't be afraid of writing crap! We all have written crap!" I don't think i'm afraid anymore Anna.
Bite number 3. Reading lists only seem to grow. Do you ever get to actually scratch a book or two off the list and see the list shrink? This summer I sure hope to! I am going to read: Anna Karenina, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, The Road, The 3 butterflies, 3 cups of tea, Weakness is Not Sin, The Infinite Atonement, and a work or two by Whitman, Emerson and Thoreau (my hero's).
Bite number 4. Trips to Oklahoma (be a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding) and California (northern NOT southern! Beaches, shopping, and San Fran here i come!) I am obsessed with traveling and since my funds can only take me so far (in the states)...this is where i'm gonna go!
(sigh...)
Summer, welcome back. I have missed you.
Bite number 1. I woke up to my greek god texting me. I found out his name (finally!) which is quite a relief; unfortunately i just found out that he's off to Hawaii in celebration for graduating. Which means our first date will have to be in at least another week. Somehow I'm going to have to balance J in a limbo state for a few more days. Poor guy. I really do like him. I think he's just amazing...
I think...i'm ready to be in love again (perhaps admitting and then posting it on the internet will somehow make it more real.)
*side note: included in bite number 1 is the mere fact that I told the greek god that i found him attractive and then asked for his number. He promptly admitted that he had been trying to find a good way to ask me for my number. OH YA! I still can't believe I told a guy he was attractive and then followed that up by asking for his digits. That is SO NOT ME! Perhaps that should tell you reader just how attractive he was!
Bite number 2. While i was at the NULC i was inspired to once again write. When i was a girl i would pull out our old typewriter (remember those things? what horrid contraptions!) and spend hours upon hours writing stories. Most of them were rather ridicules, but a few would make my mother laugh and comment on my skill and imagination. But that's not even the point. The point was i LOVED writing. i craved opportunities to sit down and write. it didn't even matter what i was writing about, just as long as my thoughts could escape my head. Then when i was in 4th grade i took a stupid standardized test. i didn't write a 5 paragraph essay and consequently they gave me a low score. I had thought i was so good at writing, but there it was in front of me - my low score screamed up at me that i sucked at writing. I was embarrassed and left vulnerable; i believed them - i was a horrible writer. So i gave up. 15 years later, at the conference, i realized i had stopped writing because i had allowed them to tell me what i was good at. How stupid is that?!
I want my 15 years back.
I want to be a great (not just good) writer.
So i'm starting now: everyday i'm going to write in my blog. I need to find my voice...and the practice! You know the 10,000 hours rule? I feel like I'll be taking a BIG bite out of that one this summer. Hence, this is bite number 2. And I apologize now reader. Sometimes i may write crap. But as writer Ana Menendez said at the NULC, "don't be afraid of writing crap! We all have written crap!" I don't think i'm afraid anymore Anna.
Bite number 3. Reading lists only seem to grow. Do you ever get to actually scratch a book or two off the list and see the list shrink? This summer I sure hope to! I am going to read: Anna Karenina, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, The Road, The 3 butterflies, 3 cups of tea, Weakness is Not Sin, The Infinite Atonement, and a work or two by Whitman, Emerson and Thoreau (my hero's).
Bite number 4. Trips to Oklahoma (be a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding) and California (northern NOT southern! Beaches, shopping, and San Fran here i come!) I am obsessed with traveling and since my funds can only take me so far (in the states)...this is where i'm gonna go!
(sigh...)
Summer, welcome back. I have missed you.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Oh boy...
Hello reader.
Please forgive me for my extended absence.
I have a pressing matter that I wish to convey to you....and the rest of the immense blogging community...
How do you know when you like someone?
My recent and ridicules relationships (2 pts for my alliteration!) of the past year have made me seriously question my selection process. Apparently I have no CLUE how to choose men, and I need help. Or a session with a psychologist....but let's start with the latter :-)
Reader I need some insights. If you're feeling up to it, and wouldn't mind helping a sister in need (how can you turn down a sister in need?!) then write to me...
and tell me!
how you decide if you like someone. And similarly, tell me how you decide between 2 guys you see as definite possibilities?
I'm trying to do the whole...just date both at the same time-thing....but that gives me ulcers. I'm a one man kind of woman. I like to know who I want; I like to know what I'm going for.
Being unsure is unsettling. I don't like it.
In other news I am presenting my paper for the first time this Saturday! Upper academia here I come!
EXCEPT....
I've barely begun to practice (YIKES!). I have to cut my 8 paged paper down to 6. Every line or paragraph I scratch out feels like I'm killing one of my babies. It hurts. And it's a little scary...to me, it's all important! Thanks to my good friend jonathan, a fresh set of new eyes should help in the process.
Wish me luck reader...this is what I've been looking forward to all semester...
and don't forget to leave your advice! Mucho Gracious.
Please forgive me for my extended absence.
I have a pressing matter that I wish to convey to you....and the rest of the immense blogging community...
How do you know when you like someone?
My recent and ridicules relationships (2 pts for my alliteration!) of the past year have made me seriously question my selection process. Apparently I have no CLUE how to choose men, and I need help. Or a session with a psychologist....but let's start with the latter :-)
Reader I need some insights. If you're feeling up to it, and wouldn't mind helping a sister in need (how can you turn down a sister in need?!) then write to me...
and tell me!
how you decide if you like someone. And similarly, tell me how you decide between 2 guys you see as definite possibilities?
I'm trying to do the whole...just date both at the same time-thing....but that gives me ulcers. I'm a one man kind of woman. I like to know who I want; I like to know what I'm going for.
Being unsure is unsettling. I don't like it.
In other news I am presenting my paper for the first time this Saturday! Upper academia here I come!
EXCEPT....
I've barely begun to practice (YIKES!). I have to cut my 8 paged paper down to 6. Every line or paragraph I scratch out feels like I'm killing one of my babies. It hurts. And it's a little scary...to me, it's all important! Thanks to my good friend jonathan, a fresh set of new eyes should help in the process.
Wish me luck reader...this is what I've been looking forward to all semester...
and don't forget to leave your advice! Mucho Gracious.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
NULC
There is no passion to be found playing small - in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living. -Nelson Mandela
Reader, I have a confession to make:
I believe this quote with all of my heart.
And yet...
There have been times when I lost faith and found my passion and big dreams too heavy on my heart. My eyes became shielded from the sun, and my gaze had fallen.
I told myself there was no shame in being normal, mediocre. It was ok to settle.
Settling. What a horrible word. What a horrible concept. What a horrible way to live!
But today reader I dare to dream big! I dare to defy defeat! I dare to stick a fork in the face of my fears!
You see reader I received the following encouragement from the National Undergraduate Literature Conference:
They called me a writer.
They want to hear my ideas.
They are congratulating me.
And perhaps they too see my potential.
Success to me is living a life filled with passionate pursuits. It means setting goals and then reaching them. It means always progressing and never settling. It means never getting too old or too comfortable to leave room for dreams.
Today reader i have tasted success. The crumbs will remain on my fingertips and the taste will linger in my mouth, because i know it's all possible. All of it.
At least for today.
Reader, I have a confession to make:
I believe this quote with all of my heart.
And yet...
There have been times when I lost faith and found my passion and big dreams too heavy on my heart. My eyes became shielded from the sun, and my gaze had fallen.
I told myself there was no shame in being normal, mediocre. It was ok to settle.
Settling. What a horrible word. What a horrible concept. What a horrible way to live!
But today reader I dare to dream big! I dare to defy defeat! I dare to stick a fork in the face of my fears!
You see reader I received the following encouragement from the National Undergraduate Literature Conference:
Dear Applicant:
Congratulations! You have been selected to present your submission at the 25th annual National Undergraduate Literature Conference. Your work is among the finest submitted to us by undergraduate students from every state in the nation, and we enthusiastically congratulate you on your achievement as a writer.
They called me a writer.
They want to hear my ideas.
They are congratulating me.
And perhaps they too see my potential.
Success to me is living a life filled with passionate pursuits. It means setting goals and then reaching them. It means always progressing and never settling. It means never getting too old or too comfortable to leave room for dreams.
Today reader i have tasted success. The crumbs will remain on my fingertips and the taste will linger in my mouth, because i know it's all possible. All of it.
At least for today.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
melatonin and movies
Reader, sunday afternoons were made for naps. Say what you will, but even the LORD said it was a day of REST. I was exhausted after church, but my mind would not stop running in thoughtful circles. So I may or may not have taken a little sleep aid in order to take my much needed sunday nap. Consequently I have woken up with a blogging epiphany....and a sleep aid hang over...
But no matter, i am resisting the "i just got ran over by a concourse of 16 wheelers" hang over feeling to bring you my epiphany.
And here it is (remember reader if it's not very good, I may or may not still be under the influence of a beautiful little substance called melatonin...):
I happen to have a brain. Therefore I should bring more culture, personal insight and reflection into my blog while nixing the ambiguous stories about myself. I love writing all about how "totally awesome I am" (gag!) and I'm sure reader, you LOVE to read all about me, but alas I am choosing to create a blog of meaning rather than meaninglessness. (But don't worry reader, I will still include my ridicules life stories along with my rare moments of spiritual clarity...) And so here I go...
Last week av and I went to see a foreign film portraying the effects of genocide in Rwanda a decade or so after the violence. The movie is entitled, "Munyurangabo" and I highly recommend you watch it if you ever get a chance.
Toward the end of the movie, a very poignant and moving poem is recited. In my mind, it is the epic experience of the 90 minute film. In essence, the poem is a call for Rwanda to rise up and change. It is a call for people to build hope for their future. Ideas such as peace, acceptance, education and hard work are expressed in the poem. My initial reaction was one of awe. The beauty of the poem’s language and rhythm were shocking. Then I began to wonder was this an accurate reflection of Rwanda and her people, or a reflection of the director? While the poem criticized The West, it also praised many of their practices. Where had this poem come from? I did a little research of my own, and found that the person reciting the poem was actually the author of the poem. He is a poet in Rwanda and he was telling, from his own mouth and using his own words, his hope and dreams for his country. The poem is entitled, "Liberation is a Journey". I have yet to discover a translation of the poem online, but I can never forget the look in his eyes as he showed us a piece of his soul. It was beautiful and moving. Sometimes I forget how strongly and innately humanity will beg for liberty and freedom. I am grateful for the reminder.
I hope one day I will be able to help liberate, either literally or intellectually, other people from their own tyranny and bondage.
Speaking of tyranny and bondage, if you REALLY want to educate yourself about Pakistan (which I HIGHLY recommend you do, because we cannot win in Afghanistan without Pakistan.) then click on the link below. The video is entitled, "Children of the Taliban":
http://video.pbs.org/video/1134781691/
It will change your perspective and make you question everything you think you know. Watch it. I dare you.
Well there you have it reader. In my post sleep-aid-coma, I have found the words to hopefully enlighten your mind, enlarge your heart, and add some much needed culture to my blog.
Mission Completed.
But no matter, i am resisting the "i just got ran over by a concourse of 16 wheelers" hang over feeling to bring you my epiphany.
And here it is (remember reader if it's not very good, I may or may not still be under the influence of a beautiful little substance called melatonin...):
I happen to have a brain. Therefore I should bring more culture, personal insight and reflection into my blog while nixing the ambiguous stories about myself. I love writing all about how "totally awesome I am" (gag!) and I'm sure reader, you LOVE to read all about me, but alas I am choosing to create a blog of meaning rather than meaninglessness. (But don't worry reader, I will still include my ridicules life stories along with my rare moments of spiritual clarity...) And so here I go...
Last week av and I went to see a foreign film portraying the effects of genocide in Rwanda a decade or so after the violence. The movie is entitled, "Munyurangabo" and I highly recommend you watch it if you ever get a chance.
I hope one day I will be able to help liberate, either literally or intellectually, other people from their own tyranny and bondage.
Speaking of tyranny and bondage, if you REALLY want to educate yourself about Pakistan (which I HIGHLY recommend you do, because we cannot win in Afghanistan without Pakistan.) then click on the link below. The video is entitled, "Children of the Taliban":
http://video.pbs.org/video/1134781691/
It will change your perspective and make you question everything you think you know. Watch it. I dare you.
Well there you have it reader. In my post sleep-aid-coma, I have found the words to hopefully enlighten your mind, enlarge your heart, and add some much needed culture to my blog.
Mission Completed.
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