Showing posts with label structure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label structure. Show all posts

Weekless

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

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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Trains are mean

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Train wrecks. Nasty business.

BIG TRAIN. little me.


I never know if I'll get run over entirely or just knocked out of the way. Terribly unavoidable either way. 

If I knew how to walk through life without following the tracks then I might not get hit so often. Or at all really. No matter. 

Being hit by trains all through life never killed anyone. Well...until it did.

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Dweam wiffin a dweam

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

DREAM ONE

Snow is stacked around the road in plowed piles. Pine trees make a high skyline and through their hallways a dark and spacious warehouse opens. To the side of the mountain road a mining pit. Tiny figures pick at the rocks and small explosions spatter the mine. Formless people mill around the constricted open area; disappearing and reappearing with little purpose other than to exist in my mind.

From the deep blurry forest a Tyrannosaurus Rex bursts into the scene. Frantic movements of the figures becomes a haze in my peripherals. My limbs feel sluggish and my vision can*t seem to clear as I search for a hiding space from the huge carnivorous creature. A dugout; only tall enough for me and just as wide as a person across the shoulders; appears in the ground at the top of the hill with a few hiders in it already. I drop down inside and wait for the all*s clear.

A military march is heard in the distance. Soundless voices urge my escape. Only I can get away fast enough to come and rescue them from the overrule of the foreign military. I run up the hill and down through the warehouse. My computer and its cord are in my hands. It is essential that I keep it.

The officers of the brigade enter the warehouse moments after I run down the stairs. My fingers lose their grip on the computer. I look towards the opening to the upper floor and the leader looks at me with calculating eyes. He points at me and I weave and jump through the bottom floor to safety.

I am in the city now. I make my way into the Taggart Student Center. I find an elderly man who puts his arm around my shoulder; shielding me from the view of the occupant soldiers. His wife comes to my other side and guards me there. A soldier comes and tries to see my face. I keep it turned away and make my escape outside. I somehow find myself on babysitting duty. They only get to have 10 minutes to play outside.

At the close of their playtime; barrels of various colors float down from the sky. They melt into the ground where the storehouse resides. We wait in line; first come; first served. I come second after the first unlucky man. I turn to the boy behind me and we walk away trying to keep our spirits up. The front man attacks me and thrusts me up to the wall by my shoulders.

I push him away several times but each successive attack he gets stronger. My fists pummel his face but seem to have lost their substance. I feel completely helpless. I don*t have the strength I can feel in my anger. Something is wrong. My limbs don*t have strength at all. With one final attempt at escape from the evil man; I punch his face with everything left inside me and the jolt wakes me.

DREAM TWO

I look around. I*m in my room. Thank heavens. It was a dream. Odd. I*m not in my bed. I crawl out from under the covers and look to see that I am in fact at the foot of my roommate*s bed; scrunched into a ball and she is still asleep. I slip out onto the floor. I swear I don*t sleep walk. Perhaps tonight had disproved that. I stand up and look around. There isn*t much light seeping in through the blinds. It must still be night time.

Well I don*t feel too sleepy. A television sits on a dresser that has somehow replaced the head of my bed in the corner. I toggle the switches and look for a channel to watch. A female news reporter; in front of a red background; rambles on indistinguishably about something boring but I can*t seem to get away from this channel. My other roommates are still asleep so I try to find the volume button. It can*t be found. The television gets louder and louder. I panic because I don*t want to wake them all up. The noise eventually wakes me.

DREAM THREE

I*m in my old apartment in Old Farm. I*m laying on the ground between Sally and Charlie; my feet propped up on Sally*s armrest. The lights downstairs are all off and the hallway light upstairs shines down the stairs and through the bars of the stair railing. A movie is on and shadows of people I know sit on the couches attentive to its story. I try to sit up and my body won*t move. I*m so tired. I can*t seem to keep my eyes open. I can*t make anything move. My eyelids close but then flutter open as I come awake.

DREAM FOUR

I*m in my bed. My clock blinks early morning. My eyelids are heavy and my mind is grateful for the promised rest until my alarm is actually set to go off. I close my eyes and go back to sleep to find blurry dreams and sluggish fantasies.

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misericordia Domini inter pontem et fontent

Friday, January 21, 2011

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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Maher shalal hash baz

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Everywhere we travel as a pair; me and my bumble bee. We*ve raced races and run reds because we two are unstoppable. My little black hummer has purred alongside rumbling diesels and roaring low-riders and won the noise contest every time.

Nissan Sentra 1993 Coupe. 1.6 Liter engine 4 cylinders. Manual transmission. Black exterior with a gray interior.


That*s all a car dealer would tell you about my girl.

But there*s so much more you need to know. There*s a rusty front fender that was the replacement after an accident that happened before she came to me. Her muffler is rotting at the joint which gives her the voice of a racer. The clutch is touchy and each day it*s a different ratio to get her going. Third gear tends to require more clutch than the rest.

Inside on the steering wheel is a furry cover with the pattern of a giraffe*s coat. That appeared on the steering wheel one day after I came out of my internship and I still don't know who put it there. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a Makini Helmet which is a symbol of protection and is believed to deflect death and bad spirits. I got him from my friend Jacqi; who got it straight from Hawai*i. My stethoscope is also hanging around the mirror for emergencies which got me through my Vet Assistant certification. Down below the vent controls sits a branch from the forests of Salmon; Idaho with a very light green lichen growing in random tendrils away from its anchor.


Inside the glove box is of course the instruction manual; the registration; and the insurance card. Then there is a pressure checker for those times when my tires get low and I get ambitious enough to actually check them. A CPR mask takes up most of the room in the small area which was from my CPR certification. Some Wet Ones in a pink package are squished underneath that. On the side a bandage wrap and my old cell phone for emergencies.

Below the passenger seat resides a Meal Ready to Eat (MRE); spaghetti and meatballs from a Search and Rescue Dog demonstration in Salt Lake next to the broken passenger visor. Behind both seats is my bent-out-of-shape sun shade and hanging from the ceiling handle are multiple Black Ice car fresheners; my personal favorite. An orange frisbee sits on the floor and I use this for clearing off great amounts of snow from my car during the winter.


In my trunk I keep a spare pair of winter boots and my mummy bag. My car is definitely my bunker of choice. I would be able to survive a nuclear war just chillin inside. Being an older year she has the stamina of an Olympic runner and the strength of an ox. But the problem with older cars is they don*t have the perfectly running engine or the nice new looking metal.

My little putt-putt has troubles sometimes. Her battery gets iffy in cold weather and happens to be scared silly of my Dad. The tires are always bought used and they go quickly because her alignment isn*t spot on. The speakers are selective on who they play for (Melissa). The defrost works at an alarmingly slow rate. During the summer the air conditioning is 60 mph windows down. The thermostat is stuck now so heat in the engine can*t be regulated and she overheats. Every once in awhile the security switch gets bumped so she doesn*t even bother turning on. The driver door doesn*t shut the whole way so getting up to 60 mph the music; if the speakers are working; can*t be heard for the wind whistling his way in.

But for all her flaws; for all her little quirks; she is my baby. I love my black Shaley. She is my little bumble bee. She and I have been so many places together. She captures all my tears and sings with me to all my favorite songs when the speakers are working. Every time my road rage flares; she grumbles along with me.

She is my Partner in Crime.

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Hazy

Saturday, December 4, 2010

I fall down from the sky and creep down the mountains through canyons and ravines. My fingers seep into every crack, every orifice as I spread my being across the valley. Darkness is my friend and best companion and we give protection to those who seek it.

My thickness blocks out the sun and the sky. I surround and cover everything beneath me. I take chill and ice with me wherever I go. In the winter time I leave marks of the fabled 'Jack Frost' along railings and windows. My breath slips through leaks in buildings and touches every living thing. I am relentless. I cling to every surface that I can, drawing the warmth out of everything I touch. I have no substance but I am a wall.

No one can see what I hide. I hide the lovers' trysts. I hide the thief's scheming. I hide the world from every eye. No one knows what can hold me. The sky can only hold me for so long. I am wild and free. No one can control me. No one can stop me. No physical hand has power over my spirit.


I am what makes lake's mysteries stay mysterious. I am what shrouds the countryside with charm. I am cause for a poet's passion in a poem. I am the listless feeling of the clouds. I am the cap of a mountain. I am the warning of an ocean storm. I am the yore of the Scottish glens. I am in the morning. I am in the winter. I am in the cool spring.


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No place like it

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

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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Chicken eggs

Wednesday, October 20, 2010


Did the chicken come first? Or was it an egg? Pointless really. Did the chick in the egg want to come out? Now that is a question worth asking...

All of us in some way or the other like stability and structure. Individually we all like different amounts of those in our lives. Every living creature comes into this world from a place of warmth, comfort, and security. Whether it's the womb or an eggshell, there is always stability and structure. There is no threat of fear or hurt or pain. Do we want to come out, really? Of course we none of us have a choice when it comes to birth. Biological processes will be carried out whether or not we have a choice in the matter. But if we had the power to manipulate parturition...would we come out?

 The egg is well structured. The chick is provided with a strong, protective barrier between itself and the world.  But that chick doesn't have to push its way completely out of the shell that shelters it. It has to make the decision to exert itself to get out, to put forth the effort to push past that strong shell. Why does this fluffy, frail little creature come out of its eternally safe place? Why flirt with the dangers of living?  But we all make that decision. To come from a world of peace, love and light, to live in a broken, hungry world seems condemning. 

We do it because we can only gain eternal life through earth life first. Every stumbling step, every adolescent pimple, every struggling year at college somehow brings us a step closer to our Heavenly Father's side.
I can't remember making such a decision. The Lord put a veil over my mind so that I would make my earth life decisions purely based on my faith and the whisperings of the Spirit. But somehow I feel the weight of the decision every day of my life. As I struggle through small and large trials or even just keeping up with the demands on my time as a busy college student, I recall a little portion of making that decision. Thankfully I've been given a Way. The biggest decision I have to make now, is to give my trust to the One who will lead me on it.


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