A disney reference

Considering how I compared my life to a real-life woman of hollywood origins, I figured I better do one for a cartoon-life woman.

Wendy. She has so much fun flying around with Peter Pan and the lost boys. Adventure after adventure with a boy of joy and excitement. A boy who never wants to grow up.

Okay. Impossible physically but terribly possible emotionally/mentally/spiritually/grammatically, to stay in that youthful state. I honestly always think that there will be a part of me that will never grow up, that side of me that will be competitive to a fault, silly beyond all reason, and crazy when chocolate is in the system. But on the flip side not growing up can be seriously detrimental to your mental health! Let's consider.

There is a time and a place for everything. The learning curve is weighted towards the younger years. With our brains on the developmental pathway, we literally determine the amount of intelligence we will have by how much we learn during this period. However, I think that the type of learning changes with the amount of maturity reached. We find that we like certain things, we learn a certain way, and so we set our feet on another path of learning, a path of purpose. Now kids a lot of times don't really have a purpose to their learning. They just soak up whatever comes. The purpose comes with the maturity. That is a higher level of learning and so to stay in that child-like state, you can learn and learn as much as your brain can hold BUT you will never have that purpose.

Back to comparison. I have found that I truly have trouble with the idea of growing up. It is freakin scary. When my original graduation date came up (before I changed my major) I was a panicky mess. A hot panicky mess but a mess none-the-less. Wendy had loads of fun on their adventure to Neverland but when it came down to actually staying in Neverland versus going and growing up, she chose the latter. I have a lot of decisions like that to make in my life right now and I am back to the hot mess situation again. I have to decide where my life will go when that moment comes that I must either decide to stay in Neverland or to grow up. 

I'm really thinking that growing up is my next adventure. sigh.

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Weekless

As the time approaches that we commemorate the death, atonement, and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ and having just finished with the uplifting words in General Conference (1), I have been super reflective (a lot like a mirror). My buddy Ted and I decided that we were going to make this week meaningful.

A lot like Lent...but not really...we are going to give up the world for a week and focus on the Savior. We decided some parameters and lists of "do"s and "do not"s.

Do NOT

• Get on facebook (that evil social media that hooks you and drags you in...)
• Get on Pinterest (this one will require cold turkey withdrawal for me...and it might get ugly)
• Listen to modern worldly music
• Read secular books
• Watch tv or movies
• Riding his scooter (this was his major sacrifice and I've got the keys...scooter ride anyone??)

DO

• Homework
• Listen to uplifting, spiritual things
• Read our scriptures with an emphasis on the Savior's last week
• Other constructive, productive activities that are wholesome

Now this will be an interesting week. I fully intend to do my best to NOT do the do NOT's and DO do the DOs. I hope that this will be an even more reflective time, considering the everlasting sacrifice my Savior made for me. There is much for me to learn.

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The Path Ahead

I don't pretend to be a good writer. I just try to make things interesting once in awhile and if it suits me, I share the thoughts and feelings inside me. Feeling very pensive on this fine Sunday morning, this is one of those times.

Sometimes in life the path ahead is unclear to me. Things that happen along the way make me pause and overthink all sorts of nasty thoughts.

The destination is clear.

But there are times when the path has been overgrown by a thicket of doubt or a tree has fallen in front of me that takes much effort and pain to clear.

Since General Conference (2) is coming up this next weekend, I have been pondering a lot of things in my life. God has promised me so many great blessings and given me many blessings that I have done my best to appreciate. But what an impatient creature I am. I want these blessings now. I have not the patience it requires. Because of this impatience...I falter. I stumble. I doubt and fear what is ahead. That maybe I'm not going to receive those blessings after all. 

But God is great. There is no one more trustworthy than God. It is my weakness that bars the way. But it is through His strength that I will overcome.

I may not know my pathway's journey ahead but I do know that God knows it. He is the Master who loves me and will lead me through all that I may encounter. He knows and understands my pain and in Him will I trust. 

D&C 24:8

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." -John 16:33

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Entrails become extrails

Okay not really. Just an update on my surgically removed lump.

After a drug-induced blackout and a hazy awakening, I found myself in one of those hospital rooms. Yep. One of those. All clean and white.

Clean. Or so you think. Everything has a pristine smell. But beyond the pristine is a reeking chemical smell. Medicines, Clorhexydine, bleach, starch. Leaves a weird taste in everyone's mouth. Beeping, wires, iv catheters, all the weird hospital things.

There's a difference between hospital clean and home clean.

Home clean has a warmth and coziness. Soaps smell of pretty and flowers. All sorts of loveliness makes the home clean like citrus smells, mint smells, lavender smells, even comet has a nice friendly home smell.

Hospital clean isn't warm or cold, it's very detached and isolated. No friendliness in this clean. If not for the nurses and their kindness it would be a grim experience.

Nurses are angels. No doubt about it. Forgoing their own comfort to constantly ensure the comfort and satisfaction of their wards.

If not for the effects of Insanity and P90X workouts and regular running, my recovery would be longer-lasting. With a foundation of abs of steel (insert a small amount of sarcasm...just a small amount though, my doctor said I was the healthiest patient he'd had and he could tell I took care of my body because my muscles were well toned...insert some pride here at this moment...) I am on a fast track to recovery. I think my inability to be an invalid for long and my stubbornness to do things on my own will contribute as well. My main thing now is to NOT overdo it.  Easier said than done.

In which case my entrails would become my extrails...

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I grow 'monsters'

Christmas break wasn't as fun as it should've been. Poinsettas, twinkling lights, candy up the wazoo, stockings, Christmas tree all decorated in balls and bamboozles, homemade food and all around good cheer.

Nope. I had to visit the ER.

Poop.

Doctors and nurses poking me, making me pee in a cup, and all sorts of uncomfortable, painful hospital activities. I think they were mad that I took up their time on Christmas Eve. Not my fault. They should've blamed it on my monster, not me.

If not at the insistence of my parental units that it could be appendicitis and potentially hazardous to my life, I wouldn't have even bothered going. I would've assumed the debilitating, monstrous pain in my lower right abdomen was going to end up being a sore muscle or something else entirely non life-threatening. Instead they found my 7.1cm x 5.71cm lump, affectionately known as my monster. This sweet little thing I have grown in my body isn't very sweet.

In fact, it's dross. It needs to leave my body. It keeps causing me further uncomfortabilities.

Luckily for me they want to get it out too. BUT. The catch is, is that this fascinating mass is quite decidedly attached to my right ovary. Due to the size of my monster they have to take my ovary out with it. No worries all will continue on normally as I was fortunate enough to be born with two of them. Future child-bearing will be a little more difficult but completely possible. So you can all breathe easy...there will be plenty of adorable little Ashley's running around in the future for your enjoyment.
 
The next few months are going to be the best of my life (insert sarcasm). 

After what my Doctor called an 'exploratory laparotomy' I will have a nice LONG incision to deal with all decked out in stitches and soreness. This being because they need to check my other ovary, who's been sitting there innocently doing nothing so out of the ordinary as growing a monster, for anything suspicious.

This means that the 6-pack abs I have been working on the past little while will most likely deteriorate and I will no longer have a beach body as I do now (joke). Not to mention doing essentially anything with my body will be painful as every movement I may do whether it be walking, vegetating, laughing, rolling over in bed, asking politely for a bowl of ice cream, jumping jacks, or simply going skydiving, will require the use of my abdominal muscles. My now sweetly toned tummy muscles will have cuts through them and nasty little stitches pulling them back together. There will be no using of my abs for some time.

Let's just say I might have had it coming to me.

I found excessive amounts of delight in watching my sister try not to laugh while recovering from the removal of her wisdom teeth...I might've gone out of my way to make her laugh.

There's the story of my 'monster.'

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My team

Last night I struggled with the idea of sleep.

My mind literally would NOT settle down and let me get some Z's. So as a result I could NOT make myself get up and go to 7:30 class (much to the disappointment of my wonderful roommate).


So I slept in (as much as was possible considering my mind was still hard at work...) and with the time I had allowed myself before I went in to work, I decided to do something productive.

I got on to the official LDS website and listened to some of the speakers from General Conference that I hadn't listened to as attentively as some of the others. I felt the wonderful Spirit settle down on my freshly made bed beside me and teach me things about myself and my eternal worth as a daughter of a Heavenly Father.

Although this isn't from any of the talks I listened to this morning it made a point to me that helped me realize where I'm going.

"The future of this world has long been declared; the final outcome between good and evil is already known. There is absolutely no question as to who wins because the victory has already been posted on the scoreboard. The only really strange thing in all of this is that we are still down here on the field trying to decide which team's jersey we want to wear!"
-Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles

I know what team I'm on. There isn't even a question as to which is the best team. I may have slip-ups and stumblings as I play for my team but my Coach will never forsake me or send me off the field until I've finished what I've come here to do.

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Passionfruit

There's a lot in the world to be obsessed about. Growing up I had a huge obsession with horses. Anything that had to do with horses was by far my favorite (whether or not it deserved such elevation in my little world).

Although I have small obsessions like giraffes, collecting notebooks/journals, bracelets, stapling papers together, and sports to name a few, there is one mainstream passion that I have begun to notice taking over my life.

I absolutely adore, love with all my heart, cannot do without, must do all day for the rest of my mortal life...

Getting to know myself. I certainly don't know myself as well as I should and I don't know half the things about myself that I observe in my friends and family on a regular basis. I know what I like and what I love but not why. It's like I'm a mystery!!! (that was for you Abbie Dean) A soul waiting inside for me to discover. I have always enjoyed getting to know people, their little quirks, why they do things the way they do. But until recently had never thought to discover myself.

I spread the peanut butter on one slice first and then wipe the remaining off on the other slice of bread before spreading the delicious jam or jelly of choice BECAUSE that's how my mother always prepared our PB and Js when I was a little tike.

I like to organize and clean my surroundings when I'm feeling nervous or uncertain BECAUSE I've discovered that when I feel like I have control over one menial thing, I have some control over life no matter how hectic it may seem. 

I sing loudly and without abandon to the radio BECAUSE I love life. Life holds so much joy in every day and singing out loud just for the heck of it makes me happy.

I pray all the time...like ALL the time, so much in fact, I'm sure I've heard the Man Upstairs sigh a time or two when I call his name...but all joking aside. I pray to a God that lives BECAUSE when I know something to be true I do my best to live by it. I know He will answer my prayers and listens to the small little problems in my life and does His best to comfort me.

God has given me so much. Even just considering me as a human being and His spirit daughter, I have a lot to be thankful for. Every time my faith falters, every time my soul cannot grasp onto hope's bright light, every time my head hangs down, my Heavenly Father is there for ME because he loves ME.

If the Supreme Being of the universe loves me that much, then there must be something special about me.

That is my new obsession. Finding myself through my Savior, seeing my true reflection through His eyes.

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Dream big

Dreams, butterflies in the azure sky. Floating, lilting, playing in the soft downy clouds. Beautiful bright colors gleaming on their backs in the morning sun's rays. Nothing can reach them but a child on wings. Children are their caretakers, treating their fragile wings with gentle care and love.

Adults stay to the hard, cold ground to which they cling. They're really grown up caretakers that have stopped using their wings and grasped 'reality' tightly in their fists. Fear guides them now.

One such grownup child sits. She is small and few take notice of her. Her wings are broken. Her's is a lucky story however. She can still see the butterflies and her own wings. Most grownup children forget to look for either of them anymore.

Everyday she stares with hope and yearning at the beautiful orange butterfly dancing above her little spot on the ground. So close and yet so very far away. Her eyes shining and sparkling she beckons her desired treasure near. But it will not do. Dreams cannot get that close to the ground or they will die. And so each sunset ends with tears of sadness.

A little blond child stops and watches her reaching skyward with curiosity and compassion on his little smudged face. Gallantly, he offers his wings to her. Her excitement is beyond belief. She doesn't even notice his tattered clothes and matted hair.

She leaps into the blue. Her day in the sky is magical. She dances around clouds and amidst oceans of dreams and laughter. Her special friend is the little orange butterfly perched on her slight shoulder. Even as midnight colors and bright twinkling fairies blanket the sky, she wants to stay but the nice little boy must be missing his wings. She drifts down on fluttering wings to where he sits. His face is beloved to her now and always will be. With tears in her eyes she carefully hands the precious wings back to her savior. He kindly accepts.

He hands her wings to her. They are no longer broken. He has fixed them just for her. She wraps her arms around him in the best hug she has ever given. A small movement catches her eye. The little orange butterfly is falling to the ground from her shoulder.

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Wanderlust

My bag is packed. Selected and designed to get me to my journey's end.  I open the door. The first step is always the hardest, the leaving part. But yet not the hardest. The excitement for adventure in me makes it easy. I step onto the road to test my true endurance.

The road is long. I've known it for some time. Prepared in every way possible. But what awaits me, is beyond my comprehension. I've only heard stories and fairy tales of the place at the end of this road. I must get there. The desire in my heart and the strength in my soul begs me to reach out for it. Despite the promised dangers that lay in wait and the strain on my mortal body, I travel.

Thirsting and starving. Stumbling, weary, and travel worn. I stop. Only for a time. I am alone on the road. I find a stream heading the same direction I am. The cool water refreshes me and I eat my bread to strengthen me. The night is coming.

Much must be done to prepare myself for the long night. Shelter is thrown up and a fire lights a small circumference around me. I sleep for a time.

Noises coming from the dark. I've been taught to stay in the light. The creatures of the night don't bother with fire and its company. But sleep is hard to come by with the fear and anticipation of what lay beyond my eyes' seeing. The fear gathers inside me and I doubt the sun's rising. But just the slightest glimmer on the eastern horizon sparks hope in my heart.

The road stumbles me. My small torch only shows me so far ahead. Many times I climb huge obstacles and other times I walk sluggish through dense forest. But always my mind remembers where I'm going. And who will be there waiting.

I've reached the mountain. My destination lies beyond. With determination I reach up and take hold. My load weighs me down at times but it is essential for me to keep it close. Climbing requires all my strength and fortitude. Sometimes I run out. But Someone's hands push me forward or lift me up when I get caught.

Right now I must struggle on. The hardest part of my journey is stretched up before me. I have come a long way. But more is required if I am to reach this place. My heart yearns for it. Although my body is weak, strength will come.

Nothing can stop me but myself.

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Book covers and what's inside

The Master Librarian always says, "Never judge a book by its cover." The hard part is there are so many attractive covers. They look so enticing and exciting. Most of the other book covers are mediocre and thus just beyond my notice. Not that I judge them for it. Just ignore them. A few grab my attention because of their atrocious looking covers. I definitely judge those and I think those are the ones He's talking about. But there can't be much to love inside their covers when they look like that.

I peruse the selection of new books before me. I sort them according to their title and on a smaller level their state of attractiveness. Humming as I finish my job there in the library, the Master Librarian walks up behind me and watches my work silently. I hardly ever see Him even though He's always there.

My sorting is getting more liberal. His presence somehow makes my eyes see differently. Some books look precious to me despite the raggedy appearance. I feel his attention move to the previously sorted books. I can feel the prickle of guilt start inside my gut.

"Never judge a book by its cover, Little One." My cheeks burn as I go back through the piles and rearrange their order. I must see what is inside them before I can decide their place in the library. Some of the prettier ones have horrible things inside them. I'm horrified! Many of the uglier ones are so beautiful on the inside. Some of them I sit in wonder for hours staring at what I see inside them. A quiet nagging starts in the back of my brain.

One book sits in the back corner of the library. I do my very best to never touch it. Or dust it. Or come near it. That book has been there for a long time. I've never liked the look of it. It always made me mad to look at it. Sometimes I couldn't understand why the Master Librarian would make these kinds of books.

I look to His face. He knows where my thoughts have wandered. Suddenly I know that He took great care to put that book together and it hurts him when I avoid that book so much. I hang my head in shame.

Once alone again, I wander over. The book is dusted over and just as hideous to me as ever.

I gingerly pick it up. The book seems eager to open up to me. What an odd sensation to get from a book. I open the once repulsive cover. Wonder and amazement flood my entire being. Why hadn't I opened it before? Sadness replaces my feelings of awe. How lonely it must've been because of my aversion.

It took me a long time to see and it will take me even longer to learn to "Never judge a book by its cover."

An age old phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover.' Repetition usually denotes a valued lesson...it always falls on deaf ears. Learning often involves mistakes in retrospect. But those are the hardest lessons to learn. Regret is often their companion. But they stick longer.

Snap judgments can last a lifetime. And thankfully the Lord showed me the truth. All the bad thoughts, the misconceptions meant nothing to me. I was shown the soul of someone I had deemed unworthy of my love and compassion. But that was the biggest lie I told myself. They needed that part of me more than anything else I could've given. I realize all the little mistakes through the many years I've known them that had I saved judgment for later I might've made their journey a little lighter, a little happier.

To have a friend in someone who needs a friend so badly, is probably the most fulfilling role a person can fill. Hopefully I'm big enough to fill it this time.

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Bye bye plane

I cradled the air around my niece as she climbed up the old orchard ladder. Her intent on reaching the very top with all the bravery of a two year old, was steadfast. She most certainly didn't need any help from me. She informed me she could do it all by herself (that didn't stop me from adding my protection nonetheless...).
 
She reached the step almost at the end of my reach so I clamped my hand on her ankle, effectively ending her assent. Every time she reached that point she would look around and with a grin brighter than the sun on her face, she would say "I can see anything I want to!" To my mind (all of 22 years of experience in the art of thinking, thank you very much) that was obviously impossible but in her mind (only 2.5 years absent from heaven) everything was still so very possible.

A plane flew by overhead, a mere speck against the vast blue sky. My beautiful little niece gasped and waved to it exclaiming, "Bye! Bye! Plane! I will see you tomorrow! And we will fly!" I was struck by the fantastic thought. How big the world is for one so small. Her dreams weren't separated from her reality.

The obstacles in our lives are hard. A lot of them are painful and very trying. Just as this ladder was quite a feat for the 2 year old, it was also an opportunity. She could see so much more at that height than she ever could at ground level and it didn't matter to her that she had to climb, in fact she was happy to do it. Every time we hit an obstacle, it is just another ladder to climb. We have to learn what it takes to climb it, what we need to pull out of ourselves to get to the top. Then we can say "I can see anything I want to!" We can reach our potential a ladder at a time! The higher we climb the more of the valley* of our lives we can see.

My niece luckily did not climb that ladder alone (or else I would have words from her mother and I probably still will...) nor do we have to climb our ladders alone. All of us experience the need for independence especially when those around us offer their help but just think...we always have that one Person who will never let us climb alone no matter our protests. Christ* is our spotter. He will always make sure we get to the top safely. Always.

Then when we have no longer to climb...he helps us fly to our dreams.

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And did not know it. What!

This little delight is me trying a hand at poetry. I spouted it out one day when I was feeling especially pensive about life and the "elusive future" (as Pres. Monson puts it) in store for me.  We all search for answers to what will happen to us as time goes by. Although I still sometimes worry about my future I know to whom I can turn for solace and comfort.

They say it like it's my choice. But how could it just be mine?
It can't be up to me alone, can it? That would be too easy.
The world isn't run on one girl's dreams.

And if it were up to me…would I choose the lighter road?
My decision weighs on the balance, not balances the weight.
Destiny doesn't change for one heart's high hopes.

In the divergence before me, I know what end I want.
Easy trails and smooth walking don't describe that road.
Life won't slow down for my feeble knees.

To take a step in one direction, I need to have courage.
But to reach that goal however, I can not walk alone.
He will walk beside me for my faith.

The world may not care for my dreams. He does.
Destiny may throw my hopes to the wind. He holds them in his own heart.
Life may push on without me. He won't move forward leaving me alone.

No matter the path I choose.

I usually have a hard time accepting the possibilities that life holds for me. There isn't enough solidity for me but that's exactly how God planned it. In order to progress I must take a step in the dark hoping to find ground beneath my feet. The solid ground of my Savior, who will always be there to support and succor me.

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Eggs-tra traditional paintings

As soon as the bubbling water finishes boiling the oval white canvases and the colors saturate their intended medium, the child within bursts out the seams. Endless possibilities rattle around in my mind with all sorts of color combinations, a myriad of patterns and designs. The visions begin to form one by one. Each unique and exciting.

Eggs plopping. Crayons silently scraping. Fizzing colors surrounding me. Masterpieces only after awkward transitions and strange beginnings. Exhilaration tingles through me as each egg comes out exactly or better than my imagination had concocted.

Easter eggs...2011

I may or may not have gotten my fingers dyed in this production...

All kidding and frivolity aside. This season always brings to me a renewed remembrance of my Savior, as it is a celebration of His atoning sacrifice and most especially for his resurrection. As my Friend, my Comforter, my Redeemer, my Brother, my Advocate before the Father, He has never let me down. My straying feet have been the cause for separation. Jesus is the Christ. He is risen again. I have no doubt. I look forward to the day I can be in His presence again. In His name, amen.

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Glowing inside

I sit inside this decaying mortal body. I've been trusted with its care. It functions well. But every moment is precious. Although there is strength and physical hardiness to be found, my gift is fragile. Any moment could find me flying back to the presence of my God, leaving it behind.

My beautiful perfection has been marred by some of the things it does. I feel bits of me being chipped off by the sheer depression of a mortal mind and the weak faltering of a carnal nature. I try to stop it. To warn it but while I am in this body, my voice goes unheeded a lot. My voice. It used to ring through the halls of heaven, but now it's small and quiet, barely a whisper. 

Words of encouragement drizzle down on me like warm summer rain. There is nothing else comparable to this feeling. The voice of the prophet of the Lord carries in it the voice of my Savior. My Redeemer speaks to me through his servants, words composed to lead me through the darkness into His everlasting light. The love and light in their eyes reminds me of moments before this life. Of a Heavenly Father and Mother. I swell with happiness and fill the shell that holds me here.

First Presidency

These are the moments that regenerate the light within me. The channel that mortality hinders, opens up at their soft words. The more light my mortal lets in, the less I am pushed back. The abundance of light that this gathering and teaching has provided always stitches a part of me to my frame. This is why I'm here in this body.

To become what my Father is. Light.

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Day of conundrums

First conundrum: To wake or not to wake?

Out in the world of the awake is a haggard life full of dreary colors and drawn faces. No warmth resides in earth*s first morning breath. The happiness of the sun*s rising has not yet come to pass. The remaining winter bird*s twittering and lilting songs are absent. No sane creature stirs from its place of slumber. A sombre existence in a cognizant world.

Second conundrum: To class or not to class?

A professor*s lecture; full of pomp and vague humor; falls upon many closed ears. Numerous thoughts revolve around a world of dreams and happy hauntings sporadically tapping into instruction. A scarce few nod to the beat of exhaustion and button their eyes secure to the drone of the professor*s lulling oration; which arrests sycophantic attention alone. The chosen subject parades no excitement or fascination to claim justification for the sinful earliness of the rendition. The sandbag man is a far more virtuous and heeded competitor in this dark hour. 

 

Third conundrum: to eat or not to eat?

Being that the first and second conundra coupled; cause for quarterhour shuteyes and hurried traveling; eliminating tardiness served as a consequence for cuffing the snooze button. Time warrants especial division. Gluttony doesn*t comprehend the college cuisine and time deficiency increases eradication. Barren cupboards and wasted spaces common corridors in scholarly quonsets.

Fourth conundrum: to cut or not to cut?

Safe paths on busy highways in blocks and rows. Cut pathways snake through glades and manmade forests frothed with cultivated ices. Danger*s path the quicker road whilst safety*s course runs straight and eternal. Time saved prospects point out slippery ways.

Fifth conundrum: to work or not to work?

Well earned bills and hard spent hours; counterparts work well with instruction. Double-crossing juvenile*s wander lazy patterns within dusted academies while worn out managers sings praising. Beastly creatures run rampant through lowered appendages chasing star sounds. Late leaving monsters grate on hearing aids and mentors. Shaved trees whir round signatures and metal spikes in endless rhythms. Creeping bothersomes watch through clear membranes. Racing to time*s clock to beat the lagging constitution. 

Sixth conundrum: to study or not to study?

Missed concepts from early mornings literally book-ridden. Reconciling weary eyelids and drooping posture steps to ambrosia. Waltzing figures catching butterflies and bowling bubbles in neighboring ballrooms cast shadows on rainbow walls. Rambling attention befits festivities and laughter. Social calls inhibits motivation*s flow. 

Seventh conundrum: to sleep or not to sleep?

Days lain awake; end results to rest. Began with sleep*s deprivement now swift to late activities at it*s expense. Life*s spent worries laid to rest at bed*s edge.

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misericordia Domini inter pontem et fontent

The ground is hard. It hurt a lot when I fell on it. My mother had to let me go. I want to cry but I don't know how. I can't see her. I don't have eyes yet so life is dark around me. All I can do now is feel and listen.

My entire being shakes with the rumblings of the earth. Noises penetrate my protective shell. She gave me that protection when I was still with her. Days go by I think. I feel the warmth of the Big Light each passing day. He is essential to my growth. But I can't grow much right now. It isn't the right time.

It gets really cold for a long time. It's so hard to survive on my own. Luckily the Light still comes around. It's nice to have someone to rely on. Whenever He shines through the snow I know I can make it at least one more day through the bitterness. Sometimes I just wish that I could grow all the way and be done with this stagnation. But the whisperings of my genetic coding cautions me to continue my dormancy. I do not understand the world around me yet so in order to survive this frail existence I must abide.

I don't know how long that part of my life lasts but I feel the snow melt around me. The warming soil lets me sink down into its protective depths. The voice of my instinct nudges me and whispers encouragement for my future.

It's time to grow.

Time has no measurement in my life. But it is of the essence that I am timely. My size seems to expand and I press against the walls surrounding me.  The protection of my shell has always been such a comfort to me, but I must not be restrained. With all of my might I burst through and see warm darkness. The warmth is a promise of seeing my old friend the Light.  

My roots sink deep into the Light-warmed earth and I anchor myself here. I soak up the living water and essential nutrients that saturates the warmth. I can almost feel my body filling with light. I have so much growing to do.

The surface is near. I can feel the air touching part of my searching fingers.

I break the surface. I have eyes. So many eyes. To see the world and the Light and His brightness all around me. I can't take it all in fast enough. There is so much wonder. I stretch out my first arms and devour the brightness from the outstretched rays of the Light. My entire body leaps into growth almost like a fire burning! I grow as many arms and hands as I can. I want to be closer to Him. It seems like such a hard thing to do. But every little piece of my body yearns to get closer to the Light.

Sometimes huge creatures move past. I see them ingesting the bodies of some of my family. This scares me but I push past my seedling fears to keep growing. I can see that I am still smaller than my mother. Her familiar love provides a canopy overhead. I see in her my own potential. Can I really get that enormous?

The voice that is always with me, my guide and my protector, fills my tiny mortal with hope.  It tells me of my future. I look within and see...the possibility of Me.

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No place like it

I sit in my car, taking in the seemingly painted scene before me. Except for the light illuminating the air around the two story house, the world around me is blanketed in cold darkness. The silence and solitude that keeps me company, causes my stillness. I look to the beacon of light that this place represents in my life. What a wonderful feeling to return here. There is a sense of relief, of calmness. I know that here I am loved. It is here that my character was built. Here I have made memories.

Opening the door I climb out of the black vehicle and grab my things. The closer I come to the lit building, the more happy my being becomes. My feet barely the touch the ground as my heart feels lighter and freer.

The burdens of everyday life can be left outside at this place. I step through the threshold into the light. Warm greetings and shouts of excitement welcome my entrance. My face can't help but break into a smile. This place seems to increase the light in my spirit just by being here. Though the world has dumped snow on the world and on my life of late, nothing can take away the warmth and comfort here. This lit world within is my refuge, my safe place.

I can be myself here. I can find myself again. All the despairs and stresses of life are still a part of me, still looming in my mind but I can forget them...for a little while. I am filled with peace and tranquility because I'm home now. Home.

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Silence...

Silence.  I've come to realize that at the worst times in my life...silence is a killer. Silence in the dark hours of night or early morning is deadly because that is when silence can do the most harm. It's emptiness is far too comforting to my self-pity and doubt. My mind doesn't function well in emptiness or silence. There is too much that can be thought about. Too much that needs thinking about. Thus, a chosen pastime to fill the space that silence provides, is found. To think. 

In my experience this kind of torturing silence is always associated with darkness. The dark and I…have an interesting relationship. When I need to hide my tears or just myself from the world, the dark is my most beloved friend. When I feel alone, lost, or afraid, the dark then makes me, my worst enemy.

At this point in my life, darkness and silence are the bane of my existence. But somehow I cannot make my thoughts leave it for the light. That inane part of human nature is to wallow in my own pity, my own depression. To seek comfort from the light and life, is healthy and I recognize that. Somehow it isn't as simple as just going to a place of light. Darkness has a nasty habit of dwelling in the corners of my soul. Like an itch, it sits at the back of my thoughts and picks away at the feeble light within me. I used to have so much light and it was so powerful. It was chipped away because I allowed it to be. 

But in all this empty silence, I find myself humming... Abide With Me, Tis Eventide. The darkness loses its enmity and the silence...the silence. It is still there. It still presses on my weary hope and faith. But now I have something to hold on to. Comfort and succor comes from my Savior. He is the eternal Light that can replenish mine. There is hope. I now have the will to look to the light on the far horizon and not lose faith. I can do this, this thing we call life. And in a blink of my little green eye...I will be with my Savior and Heavenly Father for the eternities. Silence...

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