The Charging Block..

 Here's my set-up:

I like to get up early, so my desk in my room (which is a beautiful set-up) isn't really an option unless Quinn is up.  I'm learning those little things that bring peace in my journey and they are as unique and individually tailored as this set-up.  And as transitory.

I'm learning so much even in this too.

1) My health is important--hence the heightened platform for my computer so I can stand more often.

2) The charging block for my computer--next to which is the most easily damaged part of the essential recharging cord--needs to be supported and looked out for directly.  I am like that charging cord--receiving and passing forward power and direction--and my needs to be directly looked after.

3) Following little nudges like this can make a difference in the long-term that I don't foresee now.

This was reinforced yesterday. I wanted to make taco soup to use up the tomato soup and chicken broth that I had in the fridge (I hate waste).  It didn't make sense to just make one batch, so I asked the willing to learn Lily to make a double batch.  This double batch didn't really make sense because I have a fridge full of other leftovers ready to spoil. I reasoned that I could freeze and use the extras for my kiddos when I am gone.

I had Quinn divide it in half to only bring half to the lake with us that night when he met up with us.

Fast forward: end of rehearsal I reach out to a friend that we were going to the lake--almost like I couldn't stop myself. (We have had several days of rehearsals and I still have the unhealthy instinct to not "over-invite" people to things lest I overwhelm them. My therapist would call that taking charge of other people's happiness and decisions.)

She showed up!

I wanted to invite her to join us for dinner, but realized that I hadn't asked Quinn to bring all of the dinner, but I invited her anyway and we all had a little bit. She thanked me.

----

But I missed out.  She could see that we didn't have very much. She was so kind and responded to my multiple invitations, assuring her we had enough, which technically we did. But I had a pot full of extra soup at home, which in the long run begged so many lessons.

Lessons not of guilt (she was already planning on taking care of her family's own dinner and wasn't suffering because I didn't) but of missed opportunity and thereby learning:

-try not to overthink things, lol!

-by bringing my abundance with me, I might have enjoyed being able to serve dinner to a woman--a sweet new friend-- who was in the middle of a broken washing machine dilemma and had to go home now and gather her laundry and head to the laundromat!  Wouldn't that have been cool!

So here I am, the morning after...learning.  Not beating myself up. Learning.

What did that interaction feel like yesterday morning?  The interaction when it was probably God nudging me to make that illogical extra?  What made me start analyzing the why?

You see, I've had some people ask about or comment about my take on what I call following the Spirit--so many choices where I've just moved forward in a seemingly illogical direection and seen some cool miracles.  This is how I learn==by looking back at times where it might have been the Spirit and learning.

Not feeling guilty (can I say this enough?) because other people's happiness does NOT hinge upon me or my abilities.  But it does feel super cool to be part of something that brings a little more joy or eases someone's burden a little and I find that learning to recognize these interactions for what they are "mini-lesssons" I'm learning to pay attention more.  Kind of like a melody I recognize, or a feeling...like the groan one in too many romance movies where the main characters make stupid, out of character decisions to develop the plot or the sweet feeling of redemption at the end when all is restored--and one of the main reasons we watch it ;). 

Here's me, owning it! I like this.

Zen Visualizing Courtesy of Liesl

 Liesl is my seven year old. And she has SO much anxiety at times. One thing that helps her is routine. 

Part of that routine is reading scriptures at night and one night i was feeling particularly tired so I defaulted to one of my favorite scriptures: Psalm 23. 

Another part of her routine is listening to Spotify so this song was playing while I read it.  

I invited her to close her eyes and visualize while I read the following to her. 

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. 

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

I felt so at peace.  Liesl said that she could picture herself as a lamb that Jesus loved and that He was taking care of. 

It is amazing how God can give us peace "in the presence of our enemies," whether those 'enemies' are circumstances, others or even ourselves and our own inner demons. 

I just wanted to share that moment of peace 🕊💛.

Crossing the Wilderness...on a Motorcycle... in the Rain??

I've been considering my role in the community and it's impact on my health and the wellness of my family.  These are big questions that I am almost constantly weighing: is the possible good I am doing in the community worth any negative impact it could be having on my family?  This last week I went to one of my favorite "ship building" chapters in the  Book of Mormon, 1 Nephi 17, and got stuck in the first three verses, when they went "into the wilderness"--this crazy desolate place--ate raw meat and their families not only survived but thrived, prospered and were content and "bore without murmurings" in the face of the logical result that they would just suffer and be miserable. "Your family is also protected, my daughter" I have felt.

We face so much of sin and hardship and unmet expectationsi in this life as a result of our own choices and that of others.  But as mentioned in the talk from last General Conference, "Mortality works!"  God's work and glory includes a great deal of pain and suffering for those very reasons. I was re-listening to that talk by Brad Wilcox about "His Grace is Sufficient"* on youtube the other day and he brought up that he doesn't think it will be the unrepentant sinner begging to be in heaven.  No, it will be Christ begging them to stay.  We obey the commandments not to earn heaven but to learn heaven, so that we will be comfortable there.  And that means turning the other cheek, loving as Christ did, forgiving as He did, trying again and again to live like He lives.  And His life was HARD. I can see many of us going up to heaven, realizing how much pain is involved in God's plan of mortality and how that is really a part of it and refusing to accept that.  But Eve--and Adam--did.  There is truly no other way. All these thoughts have culminated this week, leaving me a little breathless.

Regardless of whether I'm building the boat or crossing the wilderness, God is truly with me every step of the way. I realized this on Saturday in a very profound way:

My husband loves to ride his motorcycle. He loves to take people on rides on it, too. For the first maybe year or two of him having it, though, I was not going to go near it. However, over time I saw it as a potential "thing to do together" and braved my first ride. It was short. It was slow. It was terrifying. It was terrible. I kept trying to peer around him to see the road ahead to anticipate the bumps. I knew we were going to crash as we turned corners and tried to compensate by leaning the other way on the motorcycle...it just wasn't pretty.

But, I got up on it again and we went farther. And farther. I remember the first time we went on the actual freeway, Quinn must have felt that we were going at a snail's pace, but I was sure that I was facing death at every corner, especially at every corner. I remember distinctly employing my "birthing breathing techniques" as we went around a round-about and leaned into it. What???? And I was supposed to just lean into the quickly flying by asphalt?? Into my death?? I did so much "mental distancing" and "visualization" that trip!

Yet over time, I have gone again and again and gradually, I have been able to look up at the beauty around me and soak some in.

Last Saturday, Quinn and I opted to take the motorcycle to play football, meeting up with family and friends at the park. And en route, it started to rain. Red flags went up as I pulled myself from the happy realization that I had been calm for the whole ride to that point to the sudden awareness that my children would never see me alive again. Holding my arms around Quinn's waist, I looked at my options. I could panic--possibly increasing our chance of crash--or I could calmly choose to embrace death, knowing that either way, my fate was in Quinn's hands.

I chose calm.

After the cloudburst passed (Quinn muttering something about the inaccuracy of weather predictions), and we resumed our normal speed, I felt impressed that that experience was like me trusting God. It hasn't been my first preference, honestly, most of the time....to do what He actually wants of me, not "to do what He wants" theoretically. You see, where the rubber meets the road is a perfect analogy for my experience in the challenge of doing what God wants of me. Often it is terrifying. Often it is a blind experience, like sitting behind Quinn and not trying to look ahead. However, it is in those moments where I am invited to a different way, a higher way (although I'm not advocating motorcycling as a higher way, lol!). I am invited to "go on a ride" with God and so many aspects of this analogy really, really fit.

Cloudbursts and all.

*Brad Wilcox's talk:

My take on his talk:

Finding Symbolism in Airport Alarms

 Okay, if there's a perfect time ot be at the airport, I have to say, my favorite it in the week hours of the morning.  Well, only if you have a long layover.  So much seating available.  I can lay on the freshly cleaned floors with much less hesitation than usual. (Yes, I do sometimes because when you're tired... and honestly, will you ever see these people again?)

Yes, that's me.  With my eyes closed. I decided to keep it real and keep my first attempt at this selfie; besides, it's an adequate reflection of the time of day, right?

Well, something that happens at 1:30 am in an airport is the testing of an alarm system.  (Not so great for sleeping but I'm in a three hour lag, so 2 am in Vegas is about my normal wake up time in Ohio. Yes, Vegas!  The picture is a giveaway, right?  Too bad I don't care to gamble, although from what I overheard of the "success" stories of fellow travelers, it would be wise to not try, surprise surprise.  But I digress.) Back to the alarms...

So, right before the alarms came on, there was a loud announcement that basically let us know that the alarms were going to be tested, so to no panic.  Then, for the next 30 minutes (or so) they tested various sound and light alarms.  Good thing I was already awake!  Immediately after the first ones went off, I thought, that's super smart!  So many things can go wrong and you want to be sure everything is in place if that emergency should arise.

That was followed immedately by the thought, much like the voice of the prophets and apostles in our day.  This was fresh on my mind because I was listening to a General Conference talk at the time from President Nelson "Make Time For The Lord" from 2021. I had also just started reading the Doctrince and Covenants, honestly not my go-to book of scriptures. I had just prayed a week ago for God to show my why we study this book, to gain a testimony of it.  As I read the first section, I was immediately struck with several truths that not only applied ot some situations I had been seeking counsel from heaven about, but also the phrase the Lord uses, "to raise a voice of warning in the last days" as calamities and chaos foretold for millenia unfold.  So I'm reading.  And watching for those signs and warnings.

It probably was a natural jump for me to make a connection, then, this morning when the alarms were being tested, against the day of calamity. The airport administrators want everything up and running and in place against the day of emergency.  God wants our lives "up and running" to prepare personally against the impending events that signal the coming of our Lord.

The alamrs were repetitious, perhaps even obnocious.   I admit my heart is not always eager to accept and implement the warnings that seem ofttimes repetitious from the pulpit of those called of God to give us His word.  Here's a sample from the talk I was listening to you and see if any of it might be a familiar refrain...a drill as it were:

"My brothers and sisters, I plead with you to make time for the Lord! Make your own spiritual foundation firm and able to stand the test of time by doing those things that allow the Holy Ghost to be with you always.

Never underestimate the profound truth that “the Spirit speaketh … of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be.”¹ “It will show unto you all things what ye should do.”²

Nothing invites the Spirit more than fixing your focus on Jesus Christ. Talk of Christ, rejoice in Christ, feast upon the words of Christ, and press forward with steadfastness in Christ.³ Make your Sabbath a delight as you worship Him, partake of the sacrament, and keep His day holy.⁴

As I emphasized this morning, please make time for the Lord in His holy house. Nothing will strengthen your spiritual foundation like temple service and temple worship." (Nelson, October 2021)

 So even if those voices of warning may come when we'd rather be sleeping (literally or metaphorically), and even if they seem annoyingly repetitious, maybe it's because that's just what we need to be ready to know just what to do when that day comes...and every day in between.

The alarms were of relatively short duration and I could do other things while being mindful of them. I probably exaggerated when I said thirty minutes. It was probably ten.  Ten minutes. Is it worth those ten minutes, naturally incorporated, to be ready?

Ironically, the topic of the talk and the one that led me to it, "Seek Him With All Your Heart" by Bishop Budge 2024 both emphasized setting intentional, dedicated time to be with God, just as Jesus did during His earthly ministry. If the perfect Savior of the world needed that time, it's something to consider.  (Budge gives great ideas of how to make this time naturally and attainably incorporated into our schedule.)

Just thought I'd share! I'd love to hear ways that you find or make time to be still, to meditate, to take time to be with the Lord and experiences you've had when you've been successful...or not! 

P.S. I have plenty of the latter!  This line stood out from Budge's talk and I'm totally guilty of this! 

The Lord knew—in this fast-paced world full of distractions and in commotion—that making quality time for Him would be one of the major challenges of our day. Speaking through the prophet Isaiah, He provided these words of counsel and caution, which can be likened unto the tumultuous days in which we live:

“In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength: and ye would not.

“But ye said, No; for we will flee upon horses; therefore shall ye flee: and, We will ride upon the swift; therefore shall they that pursue you be swift.” 

In other words, even though our salvation depends on returning to Him often and resting from the cares of the world, we do not. And even though our confidence will come from a strength developed in quiet times sitting with the Lord in meditation and reflection, we do not. Why not? Because we say, “No, we are busy with other things”—fleeing upon our horses, so to speak. Therefore, we will get further and further away from God; we will insist on going faster and faster; and the faster we go, the swifter Satan will follow in pursuit.

Yikes!  Sometimes less is more.  I hear it a lot. Harder to apply for sure! It's one thing to know a thing and another to do it.  Good thing we have these regular "drills."

Madhouse Miracles

 I would be remiss (especially after reading the admonition of the Savior to record sacred things as found in 3 Nephi 27) if I didn’t record the miraculous happenings of the “Madhouse” play this weekend.  So very many things go wrong…equipment failure (from sound system overlap to the darn cans of spray paint), shipping problems (the critical deer portrait not arriving in time and having to do some last minute running around), scheduling issues with families that both they and I didn’t realize until the end…but so very many things go right.  Just because we are doing the work of the Lord, doesn’t mean that the path will be easy.  No example in the scriptures would validate this.  Every situation that comes to mind is rife with doubt, complications and outright heart-breaking moments.  Hannah and her son; Daniel and the lion’s den; Nephi and his brothers; Abinadi, Moses, Abraham….the list goes on.

(from a post of my mom's)

    But this morning, as I lay in bed, unable to sleep, I started reviewing scriptures that I have memorized and one floated to the surface in a different light, illuminated by the context of my life right now: Isaiah 41,  think…it’s the last verse in 40 or 41, I think.  But anyway, it basically goes like, “and they that wait upon the Lord shall rise up on their wings as eagles.  And they shall run and not be weary and walk and not faint.”  I thought it meant to wait for the Lord, as in be patient.  But maybe it also means the serving kind of “wait.” I am anxiously engaged in some super amazingly good causes. I also am mindful of the “it is not requisite that you run faster than you are able”...which means sleep!  But we shall be able to run and not be weary…and walk and not faint, meaning those times when we need to slow down, we will not be lost.  I was grateful for this reminder and different way of looking at it. I know that my God is an awesome God and that He truly will honor all of the words that He has sent and continues to send through the mouths of His servants, from prophets to babes, through the Holy Ghost and the scriptures.

Some images from the play (courtesy of Beth Flick, owner of BFlick Photography https://www.facebook.com/bflickphotography )

Hope through Christ

Sometimes I have a hard time having underlying hope. Mentally and momentarily, yes, I can step into a hopeful space. But lately I've been really trying to pay attention to things that can teach me to hope more consistently.

When I read this scripture this morning, something occurred to me, a scripture that has echoes in other books of scripture:

"36 Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.

37 Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet."

(Doctrine and Covenants, section 6)

It stuck out to me that the Lord would put the idea of "hope" right next to references to His crucifixion. Then it occurred to me. Jesus Christ experienced the most brutal, painful unimaginable scenario ever: 

--betrayal of not only His nation but His friends;

-- taking upon Himself the redemptive task of not only experiencing all of our sufferings, but paying the price of every sin ever committed

-- hanging upon the cross in one of the most excruciating forms of execution...

... and then He rose again, with the releasing, redemption and succoring of billions. Shazaam!✨️💛

So when He tells me to trust Him, to hope, it's not from the inexperienced sideline of spectators. He's saying, "yeah, I know it's bad. But trust me, the end will be incredible. Just stay focused on Me. And keep hoping."

If anyone had reason to feel hopeless, it seems it would be Him, looking into that bleak future. But He wasn't. He demonstrated His awareness even on the cross, surrounded by hopelessness, that He could look forward to a bright end.

So I can trust Him. I love the hope that this perspective has renewed in my heart this morning. ♥️

What are things that bring you hope?

(This painting titled "Hope" by George Frederick Watts captures how fragile hope can feel.)

Devotional: Be Kind To Yourself

Here is the morning's cool collection of devotional finds...the focus?  Being kind to ourselves.  My heart ached for the journey of the first young man and was touched by the man singing with what looks like his kiddos about real questions and issues.

Maia shared a quote about art, "something that doesn't focus on recreating perfectly the exterior but rather capturing the significance of what is inside."

Lessons on the Phase of Transitioning Adults, learned from Eve and Frodo

"Hello, dear friend. I recently read your post about leaving your older kids [all at once in various "transitioning to adult" phases]. 

"This transition is very challenging. I'm still reeling from it in many ways. This next school year more than half of my children will be mostly not living at home (college break/ holiday visits, etc being the exception).

"Yours has come all at once... definitely the proverbial 'ripping off the bandaid' scenario. I don't think I've ever recovered from my little Isaak's quick and unexpected departure from my home and each new transition still feels so real. I'm so very happy for my children, which makes these changes important. But perhaps this feels similar to what Eve felt leaving the garden...'is there no better way?'

"It reminds me of over of my favorite paintings, which hangs in the forefront of my living room, titled 'Better than Paradise,' by Kendal Ray

"The missionaries visiting in our home last night reminded me of it as they discussed the Fall in what I feel was a negative light. My mind caught upon what I feel is a truth I believe: that Eve's choice to embrace mortality (with the pain and contrast so beautifully conveyed in this painting) was a courageous choice. 

"It reminded me of how often I measure my choices by their idealistic outcomes-- too often by how 'pain free' they will be... because that means they're the 'right choice,' right?

"I have been diagnosed with severe clinical depression. My therapist suggests that the 'utopic' inner peace I seek as a summation of my choices may ever elude me in this life... and that this is the moment of faith: this choice to carry on, as Frodo did, when all other lights go out."

Polaroid

 Pain is becoming something else-- almost a sacred opportunity to mourn with someone,  to commune with them in the most sacred of spaces. 

I still obsessively panic-avoid it on some levels... but I'm realizing more and more it's healthy role in the scheme of things. 

Basically, there's no point you can get to that I won't want to be with you or know you. 

You could become whatever worst version of yourself that you fear or feel you may become and I would want to be there with you, if you'd let me. 

I will never intentionally push you away. I may misread your interactions with me to mean that you want distance and try to honor that (obviously, I'm not so great at that).

I know what it feels like to know that there's some point of becoming who you struggle not to be--some point you can reach where you're unlovable to those around you.  😔 it's a reality I live in. 

I'd rather be messy individuals living life side by side than strangers behind walls... but I'm used to walls and super great at hurting people and making them want to build walls. 

In some ways Polaroid is my song. Listened to it in the shower this morning…. So many ways I relate to the voice behind the words. 

Even if love is often that Polaroid, better in pictures,  God had taken me places that fill the void. 

Planes, Puzzles and Plays--God's Got It Covered

 The other day, I missed my flight.  A day later, I prayed. Here's what happened in the middle...

Today, I set aside time to just BE with my kids.

In the meanwhile, there is so much in my head. So much I've chosen to put into my life...I have just been plain overwhelmed lately.  Even eliminating so much, I still find my self-doubt, criticism, lack of answers and mental health history just seem to sabotage the space I'm intentionally seeking to carve out for myself in my life. Self-sabotage, not trusting...it all came together in doing puzzles with my Penelope and Liesl this morning as God lovingly brought truths out during our "play":

*Sometimes I can't attach the piece I want to (that I pick out, I chose) because the other pieces aren't in place yet-I hate this lesson, honestly.  Sometimes you just have to wait for that vision, that moment, because the timing around you--circumstances, personal readiness, other's readiness--is just not right. (Homeschooling groups in Medina NY comes to mind!)

*Sometimes need to take apart a set of pieces in my life that's put together already to attach it to the next set to it-sometimes you have to have a season of deconstruction to make room for what's coming next.

*Sometimes I have to move out of the way physically for a piece to be put into place-we need to be movable to create space for the changes we want.

*Sometimes it takes some rotating to fit something in..you're just turned around-again, sometimes the change needed isn't so much physically, but just how we see things.

*Getting frustrated often makes it harder-while this is self-explanatory, I found doing it with a volatile, yet sweet and intentional three and six year old brought this lesson to life more sweetly and clearly.

*Hyperfocusing on one piece often makes me miss the piece I actully need to put the whole puzzle together. Penelope did this several times, trying to fit the piece in her hand "that was super special" into a spot.  It just wouldn't fit-those special blessings and dreams we seek sometimes just don't fit into that spot in our lives that we want them to.  Too much idealism, hyperfocusing on what we thing should be happening in our lives or other's lives...can just lead to frustration.

*Can't see the place to put the piece because another piece is covering the spot.  Penelope couldn't find where one of her pieces went because the rest of the pieces (symbolic of goals and dreams perhaps?) were all jumbled around and covering where it went-sometimes taking time out to clear out the jumble of ideas and potention in our lives and sort through it is important so we can find the place for pieces that come next.

*Often others help and put in large pieces of the puzzle-often God sets our puzzle piece space up like I do for my little ones so we can feel the satisfaction of putting that piece into place.

*And a lesson that stood out  particularly at the end, sometimes we pick out puzzles that are too hard for us because we really, really, really want to do them.

These lessons and the flight experience made me reflect upon our crazy and miraculous week of Acting Camp.  I truly felt God inspire me and sustaing me in what I could do and help me feel content with what I could not.   I felt the freedom to take time for myself--applying some of my self-care practices. I saw God change the words in my mouth as I was speaking them as a mentor.  It was just...incredible.

I felt God impress upon me the lessons learned that week and "suggest" that I could apply them to the bigger play that is my life, with all of it's seasons and scenes.

Full Circle

     I started reading my friend's poetry dissertation last night.   I couldn't sleep after settling into bed--thanks to a blessedly "necessary" late nap--and decided to pop open the document that had been sitting in my inbox for a couple of weeks.  Whether it was the lateness of the hour, the quiet of the night which allowed my thoughts to feast uninterrupted, or the fabulous use of language my friend used in all her fabulously nerdy brilliance ("nerd" being one of the highest honorifics I can offer), I feel like the world shifted just a little.  Or maybe came full circle.

    My friend alluded that the life of the voice of the poem of Illiadic proportions was drawn from personal experiences.  The rawness of the experiences and the messages laced throughout them gave me a look into a world that I have yet to understand.  Imagine a world where "The Barbie Movie" meets The Boy and the Heron" and it just might capture that same feeling of....something. Maybe a truth (or a million!) that are beautiful and big and yet just out of reach...

    Before diving into my exploration of my reactions to the as of now not-completely-read-150-page-some-odd poem, I have to clearly state that this is not meant to be interpretive of what I feel is almost a sacred work--merely reactive in the sense that I feel I need to work through my initial reaction through writing.  Please indulge me using this platform, although maybe no indulgence is required as this is a self-proclaimed blog following my journey to life found in truth.

    The poem itself is very narrative, in the sense that it captures life experiences and perspectives (and her reactions to both) in a very personal way.  You are drawn into Emily's world--seeing, feeling, thinking as she does.  In one sense my initial reaction is sad.  I mourn for Emily and her self-dubbed quasi-gothic existence.  But even in taking the liberty of using the word "quasi-gothic," I stumble across one of the many often quixotic ideas that have floated to the surface of my musings: labels.

Okay, quick poll:

Do you like labels?  Why or why not?
Are they defining or confining?

Are they inclusive or exclusive?

Are the helpful in identifying? Are they worth the potential condemning side effect?

Are they a shade of finding what is common between us, the same commonality that helps us make connections that last?  Do those shades come back to haunt us?

    SO many of Emily's experiences resonate with me: social shaming, seeing the world around you differently than others do.  But unlike me, she calls out those differences she sees without worrying about couching it in gentle or tactful terms. Which is appropriate. It's introspective. It's her permission to get a glimpse into how she sees the world mingled with a little context--for who can truly understand the context of another's perspective, save God?  She encounters labels as she progresses.  Labels she attaches to herself and labels she attaches to others, even while crying out against unfairness, arbitrariness and insufficiency of labeling.

    And interestingly, as she probes behind the labels, I find myself once again labeled.  Labeled for how I am seeing living my religion, living my womanhood,...even my goals and perspective are seen through a lens of messy labeling.  My dear friend would be the first to say whether or not it was not her intention to do so--being the fabulously real, brilliant, and genuine person that she is. (And it could be "tongue in cheek," a phrase that popped into my mind as potentially fitting but which I had to look up to make sure lol.) It is just so interesting that in seeking to define, qualify and validate our own lives that it seems that we push the people around us and even ourselves into these messy partially false, partially true labels.  From the outside they seem to fit, but they don't capture the journey or frame of reference of choices that lie within the picture we see of other people's lives.  She introduces new levels of labeling that I didn't even know existed.

    My dear friend is one who--to me--defies labels consistently. In fact, it is one of the many qualities of her that I find endearing.  Yet, in reading this poem about Emily, I see a tiny glimpse into her personal journey of discovering truths--about herself, God, herself, society, herself, existence itself and (you guessed it) herself.  I find that she--in seeming to defy so many labels--has actually seemed to find labels that I didn't even know existed that define who she sees herself to be.  I don't even pretend to have any kind of accurate assessment of this work of art my friend generated as her doctoral poetic thesis. What I do find is myself responding to is assessing labels in my own life.  

    I have experienced some of the predatory aspects of society that she experienced.  I experienced the harshness of those around me who try to determine which labels were acceptable and which were not. I could recognize on one level that I was unique, as I sensed were those inexplicable fellow journeyers around me.  I even captured my--and perhaps many others--inner cry of resistance at a young age writing this poem in first grade: 

I'm glad to be free

That's all I want to be

Just free.

And I am glad 

That I am me.

I used to just assume it was patriotic, but after reading this poem, I wonder if even at that age I was crying out against the people seeking to label me all around me. "Does she fit in?" "Does she do this?" "Does she wear that?" "Does she act this way?"  Judgment made.  Sentenced passed. Gavel dropped.  Moving on.

One thing that I have recently striven to do is to steer clear of labels entirely--both those put upon others and those through which I am seen. I have sought to be authentic and in doing so, find myself still heavily labeled. Is avoidance of labels possible?

Is it necessary?

Are they bad? 

Perhaps, like money, it is the use (or misuse) that renders it evil?

 Do not we seek these labels to find context and possible meaning in our existence?  What would it be to not be labeled? I feel like using labels is like committing to a political party: there are some platforms you heartily agree with but do you really have to take on the baggage of all those appalling behaviors of that party as well?

I hate labels. Or do I?

As I child, people used labels both to hate and accept me. I was part of the "nerd herd."  I was a girl and therefore had to champion my own right be able to play sports "with the boys."  I had glasses that leaned outward. I never knew what to say, when to say it, when to be quiet,...seeking always to navigate between the labels around me.  

Because one thing I knew about labels is that they can hurt.

That is something that was brought up as I read Emily's story: pain.  Pain, loss, yearning to be seen for the authentically beautiful person she was in her heart.

I am discovering now that I, too, am authentically beautiful. God taught me that in showing me the humans around me. Every one of you is authentically beautiful.  Moroni 7:48.  Read it, use it, apply it.  Not in some generic kind of "step back and not judge" kind of way.  Really take a moment to let God show you the wonder that is the people around you, the heroes championing themselves through the pain.

But be forewarned, He will turn that cliche upon you: "if you are pointing with one finger, chances are that there are three fingers pointed back at you." If the people around you are so beautifully broken and loveable as they are now, does that not apply to you as well?

And I've sought to live this way, authentically.  Acting on what feels good to me. Always striving to keep God with me in the mix--counseling with Him in all things, but then acting in ways that feel true to truth.  Patterns that will cut through the lies.

And what do I find in the voice of Emily, the shadow of my dear, labeled, heroic, suffering, triumph-ing friend?  

I am behind more labels as I become aware of them--labels that are incomplete as they are confining if we let them be. Sigh.  

But do we not create our own labels as we seek to find companionship and validation with those who share experiences and perspectives? And in seeking to identify that common ground,  do we not define at the same time a valid "label" of commonality?

Apparently, "full circle" can mean that the wheels keep turning... back to the beginning? 

Or changed by the journey from point A to point B and back to point A again?

Thank you my friend--beautiful on the outside and radiant from within. 🧡