Lost In Translation

Darkness.

Noisy.

Fluidity.

Safety.

Helplessness.

These few words all have to do with the state in which we first start our lives. Some are pleasant sounding while others seem rather frightening. We enter the world already having experienced so many thoughts, emotions, feelings, only to be thrust into completely uncharted territory where we take the meaning of these words with us in order to find new ones and adapt those into our lives and figure out what they mean exactly and how to use them. So day after day, year after year you become bigger, stronger, smarter...while each day you progress (hopefully towards something greater), the circle is still being drawn and is continually growing closer to a close. As you are waiting for everything to come full circle...somewhere in the midst of this waiting period you suddenly become lost in translation, wondering where you are and how you got there. You find yourself at a stalemate of sorts.

Stalemate
–noun
1.
Chess. A position of the pieces in which a player cannot move any piece except the king and cannot move the king without putting it in check.
2.
Any position or situation in which no action can be taken or progress made; deadlock


You go through life, day after day just doing your thing and it all builds up to a breaking point. Then one day while standing at a counter you realize that you're so burnt out and have breached that point of insanity and that 'it all' just simply doesn't matter anymore.


...Somehow, that makes you happy.


Realizing just how uneducated you are not just about life in general but about your own life, regardless of how long you've been in it, gives you a sudden outburst of hysterical laughter and though you are being shot funny looks from those around, you just simply don't care. Because you have found another part of yourself through losing it.


If anything, revision is always an option.

Take Me Home

Lately, I've been wondering if it's all I can do. My promise is forever with you.

I know you're probably trying to figure out what that means and where on earth it came from. Well I'm about to expound upon that beginning line - so all I ask is that you open up your mind and tune your heart and soul to not only hear what I am saying, but to feel what you need to feel, whatever it may personally be.
With each passing day, each moment, every single breath I take, I feel more and more the piling up of each trial being sent my way. And so I have been wondering, if it's all I can do to stay true. To stay faithful until my very last breath. But my promise, is forever with God...and with myself. My penance is constant, and my testimony is resolute. Though each day is yet one more day to struggle through, I know that God doesn't expect for me to be at the finish line in the beginning; but He does expect me to keep going no matter how much it burns, no matter how sick I feel at times. He does expect me to be running in the right direction. It will seem like the longest race you could ever imagine, and the temporal camera lens will zoom out making the finish line seem farther and farther away no mater how much you increase your speed. But in reality it will all be over in an instant, and you will have the success and glory to take with you through the eternities. There is, however, another thing to understand - the finish line is only the starting line of a new life where there will be a manifestation of all of your perseverance. In order to make it to the finish line, you can't give up. For any reason. Ever. No stopping to rest, because you will actually end up getting sicker and will not be able to go on. Nobody will stop running to grab you and pull you along with them. You have to push through the pain. You have to fight past the point of fatigue. Every time it hits. This is a race that it doesn't necessarily matter what your finish time is, but what does matter is that you do finish. You can't let yourself be left behind. Work hard, and be sure to fully lift your foot off the ground when you take that next step in the race. When you don't incorporate the things the Coach has told you to do, your feet will drag, your shoes will catch on the ground, and you will trip and most likely skin your hands and knees. But you can still get up and keep going. Band aids and cold electrolyte drinks are waiting for you later. Then when you've given it your all and crossed the finish line, you can relax completely, knowing that your parents that unconditionally love you will be there to gladly take you home in perpetual celebration.
So my point to all of this is that I want to say, with a huge smile on my face and tears of joy "Take me home." I want to make it to that finish line. I want my parents to be waiting for me with open arms, I want them to be proud, I want them to see that I was brave enough to finish the very race they not only sponsored, but went through themselves. They know exactly what it feels like to want so badly to just stop where you are and sit down in the middle of the track watching everybody else pass you by striving for the same goal. The hardest part, I think, is when you do keep going and you see others sitting down and giving up. But you must not follow suit. Keep going. Press forward. BELIEVE. Believe in YOU. You're not alone, even though right now you're on your own. You're not alone. The chief cause of failure and unhappiness is trading what we want most for what we want at the moment. So don't stop, don't sit down to rest, don't trade the everlasting triumph for the momentary relief.

Raging Nostalgia...

So its been quite a while since I've taken time to write down my thoughts. I decided right now would be a perfect opportunity to take into my hands and project a bit of myself onto the screens of whoever reads this. If anything, I'm able to send my thoughts and feelings out into cyberspace where those thoughts can collect a bit of dust and age like a fine wine, waiting for others to taste it and add it to their own collection. The outcome of these blog entries is never predetermined, so it's interesting for me to see where I take myself at the end of each entry. Where was I when I began? Where am I now? As of late, nostalgia has been raging through my emotions as if there were no tomorrow. It's times like these when I realize that though growing up and being a part of this constant thing called life is a thrill and a journey to be enjoyed - even when you have to slosh through the mud and the muck for a while - my soul misses being a little child when everything was naively simple and never seemed to change much. It's the daily realization of moving on and certain things never being the same that gets me. I eventually have to play psychiatrist with myself and lean back and ask how I'm doing and what is weighing on my innermost self. When nostalgia hits, such as now, I wish I could tell more people to stop going through life so fast without stopping to fully enjoy what will soon pass on its own time. Time has no consideration for you...it moves on with or without you...

Me And My Shadow

Have you ever stopped to think about your shadow? Does it ever get lonely?
While on a run one night as part of my ritualistic workout, consumed in thought and getting my energy boost from the psychological motivation in every beat of music I was listening to as my feet pounded on the ground and my heart speedily thumped against my chest; amazed at the city that was already half asleep and progressively shutting down for the night, my senses revved to full alert to any sound or movement going on around me. As my eyes flickered to and from the ground back to the street, to the sky etc., I caught view of a forgotten friend. This friend of mine had divided into three, showing me that I was indeed not running alone. I felt an odd sense of protection as I ran in the dark cold night with the company of my shadow. With every step I took, she did the same. With every movement of my arms, she was in sync. Any time I stopped, so did she. I felt watched over, cared for...running with my shadow. This is a feeling so difficult for me to fully describe, but is one of the more significant feelings one could ever experience. It was really good to see this forgotten friend. I wondered where she had been, if it had ever been lonely, if she felt neglected or unwanted or nonessential. She seemed to be doing well in spite of my past ignorance to her. Though she ran with me all the way home, she left without warning the moment I went inside. The company was very nice to have and I missed it. Where does she go when she goes home? How often does she come to see me without my notice? For her to surround me in such a protecting manner was and is greatly appreciated. I hope to see her again soon. And yet, I know that she is always with me though I may not always see her, a constant, watching over me even when I run in the pureness of light, she is there. And so we run. Me and my Shadow.

Nature's Wonders

One Sunday morning as I was driving back to my apartment from a much needed escape to my parent's house where I was warmly welcomed by the two kind faces I've known since birth, and the loving cuddles of my dogs and their smothering kisses, Mother Nature gave me a wonderful show, bringing all of her vast beauties to my mind. We all get caught up in the daily hustle and bustle of this journey called life, and seldom do we truly realise how blessed we are to have such graceful beauty surrounding us. All we see are hard buildings, endless pavement, dull scenes that we pass by every day. Same old song and dance time after time. But this was an eyeopening experience and was exactly what I needed - a reassurance that there is beauty and majesty even in the more drab parts of life. There was a seemingly impervious fog that filled the air, eventually making it so I couldn't see more than ten feet from my car in any direction. As I drove at a slow pace not knowing what to expect as the road kept disappearing, I began to think of what it must be like to be perpetually caught in the fog. No beacon to guide you, no lighthouse with the man to shine that light that will help you make your way through to safety. My heart sunk as I thought of those who are still in the fog and lack the motivation to keep going til they reach a clearing. After a while, everything that was hidden by the fog began to reappear and I started to feel safe and notice details more than usual. This next scene was especially breathtaking and further endorsed the previous enlightenment in the first part of this excursion; as the fog continued to let up there was a magnificent naturalistic painting laid out for my wonderment, trees covered in a brilliantly thick frost and the surrounding picturesque land and quaint little houses. After passing these visions of soul freeing beauty, everything I saw from that point on was more vibrant and detailed and lively. The bleakness that was there before had vanished completely. One well known saying was prominently playing in my mind, "...stop and smell the roses..." and my entire being was flooded with bliss.

Rapid Inactivity

Like sand through a sieve, time can fall at an ever increasing pace while it leaves all of the crude elements behind to be rinsed off and examined for profit. That is, if there is anything in that particular barrel of sand large enough not to flow through and be scrambled once more in the unwanted gritty specks. And then there are periods where time often drudges along like molasis blatantly placed in your hands, yet still slipping through your fingers inevitably and indefinitely. It seems that both scenarios can either be an annoyance and a hinderance, or a euphoric promotion of sorts. The thing about time is that it can escape you so easily, even if you are intently doing all you can to be aware of its every move, and before you know it you're five, ten or more years down the line in life trying to solve the mystery of this rapid inactivity that has us all in a perplexing trance.

How do you manage your time?

Fireside 'Spark Notes'

Sunday, January 11th 2009. The President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, Thomas S. Monson, came to the Provo Marriott Center to speak to the young adults of the church. After clamoring for our seats all the way at the top, we sat and talked amongst ourselves while anxiously awaiting President Monson's arrival. After a while the program announcer let the audience know that the Prophet would be entering shortly. The momentary pause of the crowd escalated back to its effervescent buzz once more. In the midst of all the hype, an instantaneous hush fell over the crowd as a rippling stance of respect and admiration took place throughout the stadium. A feeling of humbling awe and peace came over me as I saw this dear man enter a room of hundreds, even thousands of people, that without needing to be asked or told saw fit to stand in reverence for this disciple of our Heavenly Father. He seemed to have this majestic flow about him with a love that radiated to every one of us in attendance. It amazes me that someone so human and imperfect, though often viewed as perfect and already immortal, can be called of God to Prophecy and guide us through this tumultuous world, when they themselves still need guidance from our Father on a daily basis though we seldom recognise it for it's full value. I love this man so dearly and I am so grateful to have him as a faithful guardian in this life.

Banana?

This is just a silly rambling about something random that stuck out to me and made me laugh quite a bit. I have no idea why, but a couple weeks ago for some odd reason I saw a Banana peel on the sidewalk while walking from my car to my apartment after a normal day of work. It seemed rather comical to me that this peel was just sitting in the middle of the sidewalk positioned in such a way that it almost looked like it was done on purpose. I instantly thought of somebody walking along not paying attention to their surroundings and slipping on it just like in the cartoons, feet going up over their head and landing flat on the ground with a *THUD* while anything they may have been holding in their hands goes flying into the air and scattering all over the place. Being careful not to live through my cartoon-like daydream I stepped over the peel and continued to my home. For some reason it seemed that from that point on Bananas were the universe's subject of the week to be brought to my attention. My roommate had Banana in her cereal one morning, then someone made Banana pancakes or muffins or something one day. Once I had stopped noticing anything Banana related, it seemed that I was in the clear and I forgot about the whole situation...until one day after work there was a Banana peel on the pavement next to my car. Now is this an omen of some sort or just a coincidence or something entirely different...? All I know is that it made that week much more interesting than it probably normally would have been. So for what it's worth, thank goodness for Bananas and the comical relief they bring to life.

All I want for Christmas

So this holiday season has been absolutely amazing and full of miracles and tender mercies. All I wanted for Christmas this year was to just be with friends and family and to know that I am loved unconditionally by these people. I got what I wanted for Christmas, and more. I got all of the aforementioned list as well as a white Christmas, wonderful friends and of course a couple cool presents. :) Having my entire family together for Christmas this year all happy and loving was so important and made a huge difference in what was my previous BSLA (borderline Scrooge-like attitude) that had been creeping it's way into my spirit this year.
Now here's something that has always been a tradition since we were super little and I've always loved it dearly - Christmas morning the family gets a box of TRIX cereal. But for the past 5 years or so since we've all gotten older and most have been out of the house and married for a while, this tradition went out the window. But this year, when I opened that wonderful pantry door at my parent's house on that lovely morning, I saw a big box that had a familiar color and text to it...it was TRIX! I poured my cereal, watching as it's rainbow-sweet pebbles cascaded down into the bowl, engulfed the crunchy deliciousness in milk, took a bite...and became infinitely happy as my senses awoke with fond past Christmas memories of comforting smells, tastes, and soothing sounds and emotions. It's a simple yet significantly important tradition to me, and I'm going to pass it on to my own family, among other traditions.
Aside from the more 'touching' part, this entire thing is meant to be about my excitement for Christmas TRIX. :D
Now I'm on to write other ramblings. ;p