tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3005245102249408892024-02-20T23:50:41.894-08:00In Which I Am Alive“I want to feel all there is to feel, he thought. Let me feel tired, now, let me feel tired. I mustn't forget, I'm alive, I know I'm alive, I mustn't forget it tonight or tomorrow or the day after that.”
--Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Winerisshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.comBlogger229125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-10830817152425435982021-05-31T00:04:00.002-07:002021-05-31T00:04:48.713-07:00In which I believe<p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Aaron and I spoke in church last week, and I feel like I'm supposed to share it. I was assigned a topic I was terrified to speak about, and in the act of writing the talk, ended up learning a lot about myself. So here it is:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My topic today is, “Why I Believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.” I’ll admit that when I first heard that this was the topic, I had some misgivings. I would much rather have been assigned a more objective topic, where I could just tell you what the scriptures and modern revelation say about a specific doctrine, only briefly delving into my personal feelings. I tend to be deeply uncomfortable discussing my own spirituality with other people, especially a group of mostly strangers. To add to that, belief is not something that comes easily to me. My entire adult life, I have struggled to determine what I actually believe and why. Surely I am the wrong person to be speaking about this topic. When I shared this with Aaron, he was very understanding. He said I could ask for a new topic, or just go rogue and speak about something I felt more comfortable with. But, even though this is far outside my comfort zone, I felt like this was an important topic for me to engage with. I hope some of what I have to say will resonate and that the Holy Spirit will augment my message.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have always been someone who wants to know everything, right now. If I’m watching a movie with someone and they casually say, “I know I’ve seen that actor in something else before, but I can’t remember what,” I will pull up their entire filmography on IMDB so we can figure it out. If someone makes an offhand remark wondering where a certain word came from, I can’t resist going on Wikipedia to find out. I love to solve puzzles, to find answers, and to learn. And I’m used to being able to find answers to questions as soon as they arise. Which means that gospel learning, the kind that happens “<a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/2-ne/28.30?lang=eng&clang=eng#p30" target="_blank">line upon line, precept upon precept</a>” is incredibly frustrating for me. I don’t do well with patience, with questions that aren’t immediately answerable, or with ambiguity.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I was younger and had a more simplistic understanding of the gospel, this wasn’t much of a problem. The “Primary answers” were enough to satisfy any questions that came up. But as I went deeper in my gospel learning, things got more difficult. I encountered scriptural passages that seemed to contradict each other. I learned unpleasant truths about individuals I had looked up to as shining examples of righteousness. I also realized that I didn’t always agree with everything I heard taught in seminary, in my church classes, and even in General Conference. I started to find it more and more difficult to hold onto the faith that used to come so easily to me.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This was incredibly distressing to me. I was doing everything right. Attending my meetings, reading my scriptures, saying my prayers. All the things that I thought would keep my testimony doubt-proof. And I still felt like my faith was growing more and more fragile by the day. This lasted for years.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This sounds like it all happened at once, but it didn’t. It was a process, over the course of several years. And it came and went in waves. Sometimes I was able to ignore my questions and focus on what I love about the gospel, and other times I would get caught up in a spiral of doubts and existential terror. And I guess I’ve used the past tense a lot in this description, but it’s something that still happens to me at times, and probably will happen again in the future. But in all that time, I have come to understand some important truths that have allowed me to handle the uncertainty that comes hand in hand with faith, and deepen my understanding of the gospel.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">First, I have learned that it is actually one hundred percent okay to not </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">know</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. In the Church, we are taught that, “<a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/moro/10.4,5,7?lang=eng&clang=eng#p4,5,7" target="_blank">by the power of the Holy Ghost, [we] may know the truth of all things</a>,” and I think sometimes we assume that this means that this knowledge will be instant and complete. But the scriptures make clear that uncertainty and questioning are expected and even encouraged. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">During His mortal ministry, Jesus didn’t require that His followers have a perfect understanding and knowledge of His gospel. <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/nt/mark/9.16-29?lang=eng&clang=eng#p16" target="_blank">In Mark 9</a>, a desperate father comes to Jesus, asking Him to heal his son. Jesus says “All things are possible to him that believeth.” The father says, “Lord, I believe! Help thou mine unbelief,” Jesus doesn’t say, “Whoa there, you have unbelief? Well, I guess we’re done here.” He knows that, even if the man doesn’t have perfect knowledge, he believes enough to come to Jesus and ask for help. And Jesus honors that faith by healing the boy.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the book of John, we find one of my very favorite stories, <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/nt/john/1.45,46,47,48,49?lang=eng&clang=eng#p45,46,47,48,49" target="_blank">the story of Nathanael.</a> When Nathanael’s friend Phillip approaches him, saying, “We have found him, of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph,” Nathanael is skeptical. He says, “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?” But he has enough faith, or at least enough curiosity, to go with Phillip to meet Jesus. This is my favorite part of the story: when Jesus sees Nathanael, he says, “Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He doesn’t say, “Look at this guy! He doesn’t believe in me, and thinks my hometown is terrible!” He doesn’t say, “Wow, Phillip instantly had a testimony of my divinity, and Nathanael didn’t. I guess he just wasn’t trying hard enough.”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">He praises Nathanael for his lack of guile. Merriam-Webster online defines “guile” as “deceitful cunning.” In the scriptures, guile is often mentioned along with hypocrisy and deceit. In the <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/41?lang=eng" target="_blank">Doctrine and Covenants 41</a>, Edward Partridge is described as being someone without guile, whose “heart is pure before [the Lord]". <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/124.20,62,70?lang=eng&clang=eng#p20,62,70" target="_blank">In section 124</a>, the Lord says that George Miller is without guile, and that “he may be trusted because of the integrity of his heart.”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, as far as I understand it, Jesus is pointing out Nathanael’s sincerity. Rather than pretending to a knowledge he doesn’t have, Nathanael admits to not being sure about Jesus. And Jesus doesn’t condemn him for his uncertainty. On the contrary, he celebrates him for his honesty and integrity. And then he reveals himself to Nathanael, who says, “Rabbi, thou art the son of God; thou art the King of Israel.”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">These stories tell me that God will never condemn us for not being completely sure. Even if we don’t have all the answers, He wants us to come to Him, and then He will make up the difference. As Alma says, “<a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/alma/32.27?lang=eng&clang=eng#p27" target="_blank">Even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you.</a>” I have definitely had times where all I have is a desire to believe. It is so comforting to know that even this is enough for God to work with.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Another important truth I have learned is that not everyone’s faith journey will be the same, and that is how it is supposed to be. <a href="https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/46.11?lang=eng&clang=eng#p11" target="_blank">Doctrine and Covenants Section 46</a> describes a number of spiritual gifts and says, “For all have not every gift given unto them...to some is given one and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby.” It continues, “To some it is given by the Holy Ghost to know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and that he was crucified for the sins of the world. To others it is given to believe on their words, that they might have eternal life if they continue faithful.” </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So some people will have the gift of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">knowing</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. Others will not have the gift of knowing, but they will have the gift of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">believing </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the words of those who know.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And both groups of people will have eternal life if they continue faithful! “Knowing” isn’t described as being better or more likely to get you to heaven than “believing”. Both are gifts from God. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And I think the process by which we each come to know or to believe in Christ can vary from person to person. One person might find that reason and logic lead them to Christ. Another might feel strong emotions that confirm their testimony of the gospel. Others may simply notice that their lives are happier when they are keeping the commandments. And the way we feel the spirit and experience belief will probably change throughout the course of our lives, too! When I was a teenager, I “felt the Spirit” in big sweeping emotions, often accompanied by tears. Lately, I feel the Spirit more in small, subtle nudges and moments of clarity. And I’m sure in 20 years I will experience the Spirit differently than I do today.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Similarly, I think that even within the Church, we all vary in </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">what </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">we</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">believe. I might struggle to accept some doctrines that you have a strong testimony of. An issue that is a stumbling block for you might be no big deal for your neighbor. Your questions will be different than my questions. You might be able to accept a principle instantly that I have to wrestle with for years. And this is all okay! This is the way things are designed, so that we can learn from and rely on each other. It also means that we shouldn’t be dismissive of somebody else’s sincere doubts simply because it isn’t something that has troubled us before. We need to recognize that everyone is on their own journey,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I don’t know everything yet. Sometimes I think I don’t know anything. In many ways, my testimony has become simpler over time, going back to the “Primary answers” of my childhood. I believe that I am a child of Heavenly Parents, who love me and want me to become my best self. I believe in my Savior Jesus Christ, and that through His atoning sacrifice, I can repent and become more like my Heavenly Parents. I believe that God answers prayers and speaks to us through inspired leaders and personal revelation. I believe that we are called to love God and to love one another. I believe because I have experienced God’s love and guidance in my life. I have had prayers answered. I have been strengthened by my faith in Christ. In the darkest times of my life, I have felt the comforting influence of the Holy Spirit. I look forward to spending the rest of my life asking questions, learning, and coming closer to God.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-66661176215368496592017-02-24T17:32:00.004-08:002017-02-24T17:32:39.146-08:00In which my life teems with simple delights<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">An Internet community I frequent recently discussed the question: "What is a small good thing that has happened in your life lately?" And I realized that lately my life has abounded with small, good things.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">1) My husband learned how to make Pad Thai and has made it twice in the last week and a half. He is very good at it and it is awesome.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">2) My mentor told me that I'm doing a great job as a teacher. On a day when I was frustrated with 6th graders who refused to participate and 3rd graders determined to sow chaos, this meant a crazy amount.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">3) I've been going to therapy, and it's working! I'm learning some simple strategies to cope with my anxiety, and I haven't had an anxiety attack in over two weeks. Everyone, go to therapy.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">4) A little boy in one of my special ed classes sang yesterday! I'd never even heard him talk before, and he was singing every single song word for word, perfectly in tune. I wanted to give him the biggest squeeze in the world. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">5) I've been rewatching Parks and Recreation, my most favorite show in the world, and remembering why it is the best.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">6) I got a three day weekend in which I went on a hike with my brother and it was exactly what I needed in my life that day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">7) We found ourselves in American Fork the other day, which meant we had to eat at our favorite Chinese restaurant (Whistle Wok) and it was glorious.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">8) I found out that I actually do have a supply budget for my choir and my ukulele class. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">9) We found the most perfect apartment ever (Two bedrooms! A dishwasher! In our ward boundaries!) and we're moving next month. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">10) We found cheap plane tickets to London and we're going for my spring break.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Okay, I guess those last two were big good things. But the small good things are almost better because they accumulate into piles of happiness. Here's to the small good things. </span></span>risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-45759143842666712942016-11-12T11:56:00.001-08:002016-11-12T12:49:27.790-08:00In which I'll walk with you<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="54rpb" data-offset-key="drq8j-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="drq8j-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">I've been trying to stay optimistic about the results of the election, and not to get caught up in worst-case scenario thinking. But I'm also realizing that optimism is a luxury I can afford because as a white, straight Christian, I don't have much to worry about with a Trump presidency. I don't have to worry about half my family being deported. I'm not worried that my marriage won't be legally recognized anymore or that people will be able to deny me service because of my sexual orientation. I won't ever be targeted as a potential terrorist because of my religious affiliation. The rise of hate crimes that has been noted this week will probably not affect me. So yeah, it's really easy for me to say "Maybe it won't be so bad!" Because for me, it probably won't.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="99e6r-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">So I'm still going to hope for the best, but I think it's important to recognize that for some folks, things are looking kind of scary. And that means that those of us who aren't as vulnerable have the responsibility to stand up for those marginalized groups and make sure their rights are being protected. In the Book of Mormon, we are called to "bear one another's burdens, that they may be light." I think that can include being aware of injustice and taking a stand against it. I know that's something I can do better at. It's something I need to do better at. As the primary song says, "I'll walk with you, I'll talk with you, that's how I'll show my love for you."</span></div>
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risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-44897434747652785452016-08-24T17:11:00.001-07:002016-09-15T07:19:32.207-07:00In which it's a dangerous business, going out your door.When I hear the word "adventure," I usually envision a positive experience. Traipsing over new territory, catching my breath at gorgeous vistas, feeling the thrill of discovery. Sometimes I forget that a true adventure carries an inherent risk-the chance that something horrible could happen at any minute. I remember huddling in prayer with some girls from my high school track team at the start of the meet. There were storm clouds threatening, and were dreading the prospect of running in the rain. The girl giving the prayer started out normal, asking that we would be given mental and physical strength to run our races. But then she added, "And please bless that this will be an adventure." We all audibly groaned. We didn't want an adventure at that moment. We wanted the rain to go away so we could run our freaking races.<br />
<br />
I didn't want an adventure that Tuesday in May. My little brother and I were going rock climbing for the first time this season. I met him up in Rock Canyon, and we hiked up to Red Slab, one of our favorite spots. Spencer opted to lead the first climb, and I was relieved because lead climbing is terrifying. He got a few bolts up the route, clipping in his carabiners as he went, before realizing that this climb was a little bit out of his comfort zone. I was belaying him from below and could see his feet start to slip. I couldn't decide whether to start pulling in the rope; if he wasn't about to fall, pulling in the rope would make sure he actually did fall, but if he was falling, pulling in the rope would let me catch him faster. And then...he was falling and I could feel the rope feeding through my hands and he was screaming and then...the rope caught and he was hanging and everything was okay. I caught him. He was okay.<br />
<br />
But when I lowered him, he wasn't okay. He had kicked the wall hard on the way down and couldn't put weight on his foot. He winced with every step we took down the mountain trail, and by the time we'd made it a hundred yards, I could see he was crying. My tough, triathlete brother was crying. And it was my fault. I was his belayer. I was his <i>big sister</i>. It was my job to keep him safe and I had failed. If I had started pulling the rope in sooner, would he have been okay? Could I have made sure we started on an easier route? Some good Samaritans on a morning hike helped me carry him down the mountain and into my car, where I drove him to the urgent care clinic. I texted our parents and my husband, terrified that my mom would be mad at me for letting her son get hurt. I tried not to let Spencer see me cry. I think he was doing the same for me.<br />
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The X-ray revealed a broken ankle, one that would probably require surgery. I had to explain to every doctor and nurse we saw that Spencer is my brother, not my husband, we don't live together, so maybe giving <i>me </i>the instructions about his pain medication and what specialist to call was a bad idea. And then we were back at his apartment, eating ice cream with his roommates, and I was finally able to go outside and call my husband and burst into tears of guilt and fear and too much adrenaline. And Aaron came home from work early just to give me a hug (I married a good one), and my mom came over to check on Spencer and also to make sure I knew it wasn't my fault and nobody was mad at me. And Spencer, the eternal good sport, made jokes and smiled and helped me feel okay.<br />
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And now it's been three months and he's out of his cast and doesn't even hate me. Even though having a broken ankle could have ruined his summer, he just kept going: SCUBA diving, traveling the wold, even competing in a triathlon (minus the running portion). But I've let it get to me. I haven't gone rock climbing since it happened. Maybe I need to. Because having adventures does mean something terrible might happen. And sometimes, something terrible does happen. But what kind of life is it if you let that stop you from stepping out your front door and doing the things you love?<br />
<br />
<br />risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-30038649371724486432016-08-10T09:56:00.002-07:002016-08-10T09:56:21.807-07:00In which I eat the breakfast of championsI had ice cream for breakfast today. And also yesterday. And I know that's super unhealthy, and I'm trying to make better choices and lose weight, and all of that, but hear me out. We were out of all of the breakfast foods. No cereal or milk. No bread for toast. No eggs. No yogurt to put in a smoothie. All we had was oatmeal. Don't get me wrong, I love oatmeal. But the past several times I've tried to make it, it has exploded all over the inside of my microwave. It even happens if I take the oatmeal out and stir it halfway through cooking. Maybe this microwave is hotter than my old one? I don't know. Maybe I've wronged it somehow and this is its revenge. So this morning I was sitting in the kitchen trying to decide if it was worth it to make a bowl of oatmeal when most of it would end up splattered around the inside of the microwave when finally, I got too hungry to make the decision anymore and just got myself a bowl of chocolate ice cream instead. And then another bowl.<br />
<br />
And by golly, it was delicious. So there.risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-41015968529226438602016-08-07T20:46:00.001-07:002016-08-07T20:51:59.311-07:00In which I am dissatisfiedI did a lot of things this summer.<br />
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I completed the second level of my Kodaly teaching certification. I grew a vegetable garden. I volunteered at a community center near my house. I went to the zoo. I planned a birthday party for my husband. I went camping. I spent time with friends. I visited the Dominican Republic. I went on a road trip with my in-laws. I went to two different family reunions. I joined a Masters swim team. I got caught up on doctor's appointments (dentist, gynecologist, eye doctor, voice therapy, etc) I went to Idaho and back in one day for a friend's wedding. I started teaching piano lessons. I completed hikes that had been on my to-do list for years. I saw Mount Rushmore. And I read a ton of books.<br />
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And yet, when I think back on my summer, my brain skips over all of this and gets stuck on the days I spent binge-watching "The Office" (I watched all 9 seasons this summer). Instead of remembering the new friends I've made in my ward, I remember the days I failed to find anyone to hike with me and instead bummed around at home by myself. Despite the obvious list of things I did with my vacation, I can't shake the feeling that none of it counted and I actually did nothing all summer.<br />
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This would normally be the part of the post where I'd reveal the grand epiphany I just had about how everything I thought before was wrong. Unfortunately, I'm writing this pre-epiphany, so here's all I've got: I don't know why it's so hard for me to recognize my own accomplishments. I don't know why I beat myself up so much about perceived wastes of time. But I do know that it's not okay and that it doesn't make me happy. And I'm working to adjust my attitude, so that when work starts this week and my summer ends, I can look back with satisfaction at how I spent my time.risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-91862121282455975472016-04-17T20:57:00.000-07:002016-04-17T20:57:02.997-07:00In which I don't know how to do friendshipBefore I got married, I used to swear up and down that Aaron and I would never be one of "those" couples. You know, the ones who, upon getting married, retreat into their married bliss and completely ignore their friends forever. No, I was sure that I'd spend just as much time with my friends after I got married as I did before. I was wrong.<br />
<br />
I've been married for a year and a half, and I rarely see or talk to most of my friends. Many of them have graduated and moved away, some have had babies, and some I just....haven't made time for. My ability to make new friends also seems to have completely disappeared. I can do small talk and casual aquaintanceship just fine, but moving to actual friend level? I have no idea how to make that happen.<br />
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There are a few reasons for this. First, before I was married, I lived with some of my best friends, so it was pretty easy to make time for them. The friends I didn't live with still mostly lived within a few blocks. It's a lot easier to call someone over from the next room or to walk across the street then it is to drive for half an hour to see a friend.<br />
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Also, before I was married, I was attending a singles ward (a Mormon congregation made up of young single adults). In the singles wards, there were constant social activities: FHE, Break the Fast, dinner groups, Institute, and plenty of game nights, dances, and ice skating activities. The family ward I attend now probably has one ward activity every few months, which means if I want to be social, I have to actually plan it myself.<br />
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But, if I'm being honest with myself, I can't blame my poor friendship skills on my living situation or on the number of activities my ward has. The reason why my friendships are faltering is that I haven't been putting effort into them. The reason why I haven't been making new friends is because I haven't developed the skills necessary to do so. I've let myself get complacent and lazy with my friendships, and as a result, my friendships have not been flourishing the way I'd like them to.<br />
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But I'm going to do better. It's hard and scary, but I'm going to do it. This week I have plans with an old roommate to go to the temple after work, and I have pending plans to go to the gym with a few different people(...still need to follow through on that...). It's really difficult for me to get up the courage to call someone and make plans (what if they don't want to hang out with me? What if they think I'm weird? What if the activity I suggest is one that they hate?) but it's worth it to me. I need the enrichment, the trust, the fun, and even the vulnerability that real friendships provide. I don't really know how to be a good friend in this stage of my life. But I intend to figure it out.risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-69534942277033338262016-03-19T09:03:00.000-07:002016-03-19T09:44:01.583-07:00In which a xylophone changes everythingI have a student (let's call him Max) who has been giving me trouble all year. He is often defiant, refuses to participate or to follow any directions, and stirs up the other kids to make mischief as well. On multiple occasions, he's started running in circles around my room screaming to avoid doing what he's supposed to be doing. Nobody has known what to do with him: not the classroom teacher, not the principal, and definitely not me.<br />
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Last week, after a particularly rough class, I kept him after class to talk about his behavior. I tried to explain why his behavior was inappropriate and unacceptable while he kept dinking away on a xylophone he'd pulled off of my shelf--without my permission, I might add. I was getting frustrated that he wasn't listening when he suddenly looked up at me, no trace of anger or defiance on his face, and said, "Mrs. E, I just really love playing instruments."<br />
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Well, I was floored. I wasn't aware that "Max" loved anything at all except causing mayhem. To be honest, I had long ago stopped seeing him as a child and instead thought of him as more of a...chaos machine. But here he was, a kid with way too much pain and sadness and confusion in his life, who just wanted a chance to play some musical instruments.<br />
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So we made a deal. If he could follow directions, participate, and be respectful in music, I would let him come hang out in my room during my prep time and play any instruments he wanted. It's been a week since we started this system, and he's earned "instrument time" twice now. While I mostly leave him alone to explore the instruments on his own, I've taken a little bit of time to talk to him and get to know him as well. And it turns out that "Max" is a really sweet kid. He loves action movies, he adores his little brother, and he wants to be a police officer when he grows up. He'd rather be in school than at home, and he wants to learn how to play the piano someday. When I showed him how to play one of the songs we'd been learning in class, his face lit up in the brightest smile I'd ever seen.<br />
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I don't know how it happened, but in just a week I've gone from feeling nothing but frustration for this kid to loving him so much it feels like my heart is going to explode. I had been seeing him as a problem, an obstacle toward my teaching. He will probably not have perfect behavior for the rest of the year. I will probably still have to struggle to help him make better choices in class. But for just a second there, I was given the chance to see him as a person, as a child of God. And that has changed everything.<br />
<br />risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-17355293961770592842016-01-31T16:41:00.002-08:002016-03-19T09:05:39.200-07:00In which I was a teen psychicLast week, my mom had me go through some boxes of my stuff from junior high and high school to get rid of whatever I didn't want anymore (apparently my parents' house doesn't have infinite space?) In the process, I found something bizarre. Something glorious. Something I had completely forgotten existed. It was....the Man in a Can!<br />
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So, the Man in a Can was an activity we did for my church Young Women's group when I was 14. We cut out pictures of wedding dresses, color schemes, and rings, made lists of attributes we wanted in a future husband, and picked out names for our future children ("So, basically pre-Internet Pinterest," says my brother). Then, each of us sealed up the contents of our wishful wedding planning in a Number 10 can, to be opened only when we had become engaged.<br />
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So here I was, face to face with my DIY Pinterest Time Capsule, opening it a year and a half late. I remembered the activity; I also remembered having a really bad attitude about it. I'm pretty sure I sat in the corner with some of my friends griping about how it was dumb, and styles were totally going to change between now and whenever I got married, and what if some of us never got married, and I wanted to go rock climbing for our activity but <i>no</i>, we didn't have the <i>budget</i> for that. But I eventually sucked it up and clipped a few things out and put them in my can, and I think at some point I actually started enjoying it. 11 years later, I was a little bit anxious. What if I opened it and saw a picture of the perfect dress, and had regret about the dress I actually wore at my wedding? What if I had found the perfect color scheme back at 14, and all the time I spent agonizing over my wedding colors had been completely unnecessary? Who knows what kinds of long-buried expectations and newly discovered regrets this tin can would stir up?<br />
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Still, it had to be done. With Aaron's help, I opened the can, eager for a glimpse into my own adolescent mind.<br />
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The first thing I learned was that as a teenager, I had way different taste in jewelry. Here are my prototype wedding rings:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4M_9lw9DJptOszSMzWUe82WC3wIhygWrYls6tvwm83KH1RWO6PQtyvZXzXlxzlaUm9e3kXsaWFLPUt69MgoGsj54_iwW5PT_BcgrMeBFRgLPUtfd8YFbUDu8fcL4vEsnyvBvIDlPWTWI/s1600/IMG_20160130_182049131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4M_9lw9DJptOszSMzWUe82WC3wIhygWrYls6tvwm83KH1RWO6PQtyvZXzXlxzlaUm9e3kXsaWFLPUt69MgoGsj54_iwW5PT_BcgrMeBFRgLPUtfd8YFbUDu8fcL4vEsnyvBvIDlPWTWI/s320/IMG_20160130_182049131.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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They're just so...boxy and clunky and...eugh. Not my cup of tea. And diamonds aren't really my thing either. Here's my actual wedding ring.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYcUW7UVzpm5J-Z9VKFD3bgyr9db6PVzkTdbkWfLHIDJDYZ91pY08dqBCLFWRza4XSpaJPs_XVyk8bjecgMWL4PeNNjEQMQIFZLoEi7EK30RbQ1eYYeepc44cMuNXHgNCoQ0-7KO5fTU/s1600/IMG_20160130_182117616.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYcUW7UVzpm5J-Z9VKFD3bgyr9db6PVzkTdbkWfLHIDJDYZ91pY08dqBCLFWRza4XSpaJPs_XVyk8bjecgMWL4PeNNjEQMQIFZLoEi7EK30RbQ1eYYeepc44cMuNXHgNCoQ0-7KO5fTU/s320/IMG_20160130_182117616.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Next, I looked at my wedding dress choice. Teenage me was actually pretty close to adult me in this choice. I really like the bodice and the overall shape of this dress. And it doesn't actually look much different than the one I ended up going with.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZBDTLlXPkcnlBF44e-X0_ukPMT-xdnW0NtFPdoP96GDxJA_XfGp5yGjsqnrXMnDNNoWhQcymue0y2aOc8mcwHgWO0oI8OpB5JQl-SND9YNCNW-Gtc-XBdkP1NYJp9eeQEbwDdKEPwUg/s1600/IMG_20160130_181638966.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZBDTLlXPkcnlBF44e-X0_ukPMT-xdnW0NtFPdoP96GDxJA_XfGp5yGjsqnrXMnDNNoWhQcymue0y2aOc8mcwHgWO0oI8OpB5JQl-SND9YNCNW-Gtc-XBdkP1NYJp9eeQEbwDdKEPwUg/s320/IMG_20160130_181638966.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRukjiHJ_S1133gaS9pnJ34O0yiZJsxB9Xc6qIhzJo_Le0snhhI5CQz2oK85AVicp-UKsIfCTzzI5vgwgbE-y_gDUb_3C4AHZtee66WVL7lzajcZ6YGkPv5HPRB5FdBbgg_6z6M3SRuZ0/s1600/10389424_10152388051945672_3804204917421689434_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRukjiHJ_S1133gaS9pnJ34O0yiZJsxB9Xc6qIhzJo_Le0snhhI5CQz2oK85AVicp-UKsIfCTzzI5vgwgbE-y_gDUb_3C4AHZtee66WVL7lzajcZ6YGkPv5HPRB5FdBbgg_6z6M3SRuZ0/s320/10389424_10152388051945672_3804204917421689434_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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But then I pulled out my list of attributes for my future husband, and it got really weird. </div>
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Most of these are pretty generic Mormon/teenage girl answers. Who doesn't want a partner who is loving or patient or smart or respectful or sensitive? All of these apply to Aaron, but that just means he's a good guy. Then I started to notice that some of these were a little more specific: "Spontaneous and fun-loving," "funny," "loves music." Again, still nothing highly unusual. But then I noticed two things "will sing to me" and "brown curly hair would be nice." Whaaa? First, Aaron sings to me almost constantly. It's possible we sing to each other more than we talk to each other. And I mean...brown curly hair? Aaron is literally the only person with brown curly hair I've ever been romantically interested in (besides like...Josh Groban....) How did I call that as a 14 year-old?</div>
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The only conclusion I've been able to come to is that I had latent psychic powers as a teenager. How else would I have known that I'd marry a music-loving, curly-haired man, and wear a drop-waist, butterfly sleeve dress for the occasion? It's spooky, man.</div>
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<br />risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-106173556080271932016-01-30T13:57:00.000-08:002016-01-30T22:27:40.518-08:00In which I feel the burnThis year, I set a New Year's resolution that I've been trying to bring myself to set for a few years. I decided that I would lose 20 pounds by the end of the year.<br />
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For the past three years, I've been skirting around the issue, pretending I don't care, and basically doing nothing. So what that I'm almost thirty pounds heavier than I was five years ago? Bodies change, man. I was training for a half marathon five years ago, and I sure don't have time for that now. I would tell myself that the only healthy outlook was to love myself as I was, which meant accepting those extra thirty pounds as a welcome part of me. I told myself that trying to lose weight would only lead to extreme dieting, anxiety, and probably profound disappointment. I reasoned that it was just too hard, I couldn't do it, and it would make more sense to just accept my new size as normal.</div>
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And I was ready to leave it at that, except that I couldn't. It kept nagging at me. This extra weight doesn't feel like a part of me. I don't love how I look, I've had to say goodbye to some of my favorite clothes because they don't fit anymore, and I'm just not comfortable. A few months ago, my weight finally crossed from the "healthy" BMI zone to the "overweight" zone, which was kind of a rude awakening. I have a family history of serious health problems caused and aggravated by obesity, and while I'm healthy now, I'd rather not have to deal with any of those down the line. Further, I've realized that my weight gain is a symptom of some really unhealthy eating and exercise habits that I should probably work on regardless of the numbers on the scale.<br />
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Most of all, I've realized that yes, loving someone means you accept them and love them where they're at. But it also means that you support them in their goals for self-improvement. You don't enable them in stagnation. You encourage them to be better. I can love myself and my body and still set goals, change my habits, and get healthier.<br />
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A lot of my friends who have been successful in losing weight have done so by enrolling in exercise programs, following a strict dietary regimen, and otherwise making drastic changes in their lives. While I respect and admire their tenacity, I'm almost positive that approach wouldn't work for me. I would burn out within days and jump right back into eating ice cream for dinner every night. So I'm going to focus on making small, sustainable changes and turning them into habits. Right now, that means only eating sweets on the weekends and exercising five days a week. When that becomes easy, maybe I'll pay attention to the kind of exercise I'm doing or work more fruits and vegetables into my diet.<br />
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Even though the changes I'm making are tiny, sometimes they feel so. so. hard. It physically pains me when there's a package of cookies up for grabs in the faculty room and I'm munching on my carrots instead. In the middle of a Utah winter, it's really difficult to convince myself to go running when I could be on my couch watching Netflix. But there's a kind of a satisfaction that comes when I do make these choices. In a yoga class I went to the other day, the instructor talked about the concept of <i>tapas. Tapas</i> literally means heat, and refers to the friction generated by going against the grain of what is easy. It's a purifying fire generated by letting one's will rule over one's desires. In an LDS context, it might be described as allowing the spirit dominion over the body. My instructor described <i>tapas</i> as "a fiery discipline" that allows people to transcend themselves. And every time I turn down a brownie, change into my running shoes, or eat an apple instead of a bowl of ice cream, I'm cranking that fire up just a little bit hotter.</div>
risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-59668681040613691922016-01-17T21:30:00.003-08:002016-01-17T21:35:30.864-08:00In which I'm backWell, you may have noticed that my Johnny Karate blog series lasted exactly one post. I'm not going to make any apologies or give any excuses for that. But after a seven month blogging hiatus, I think I'm ready to start writing again. I don't know what shape this blog will take or what purpose it will serve. It used to be a journal of sorts, a place to vent my thoughts when I didn't know who to share them with. I have an unprecedented level of support in my life now, and my mental health is much better than when I was blogging the most, so I don't need this blog to be therapy for me anymore. But I do know that I miss writing.<br />
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I know that these days blogs are supposed to have a theme or a niche or some unifying feature. For the past seven months I've been trying to choose an angle: do I want this to be a lifestyle blog (whatever the heck that is)? A blog about living in Provo? A religiously-themed blog? A blog full of stirring essays about my deepest inner feelings? I have no clue. And while it's hard for me to choose a specific angle, I think the title of my blog provides the closest thing I've got to a unifying theme. I am alive, learning, and growing, and I want to share my thoughts and stories. You can come join me, if you like.risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-29811974701182928052015-06-07T10:06:00.002-07:002015-06-09T19:41:17.715-07:00In which we encounter fake flowers, whales with legs, donuts, pixies, and middle schoolWell, today is Tuesday, which means it is time to report on my first week living the Johnny Karate Way! So, here is what I did!<br />
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<b>Make Something</b>: We did a lot of art projects at work this past week (professional development for the art teachers, fun for the rest of us), and my favorite was making <a href="http://www.instructables.com/id/Tissue-Paper-Flowers/" target="_blank">these tissue paper flowers</a>. It's super easy! The ones that I made look halfway decent, even though I am seriously disabled at crafts. I think I'll have my students make these for May Day next year.<br />
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<b>Learn Something</b>: Did you know that there used to be whales with legs? It's true! Sort of! At least, the direct ancestors of whales were land mammals who had legs and webbed feet (kind of like sea lions). Also, I learned that ladybugs lay extra, unfertilized eggs for their babies to eat upon hatching. So that's neat. These are the cool things you learn when you go to the <a href="https://nhmu.utah.edu/" target="_blank">Natural History Museum of Utah</a>. Seriously, everyone go there. It is gorgeous and you can learn about whales with legs, so that seems like a win-win.<br />
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<b>Karate Chop Something</b>: I karate-chopped....my hair!<br />
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Okay, actually my wonderful hairdresser Shelby did all of the chopping, but it took a lot of guts on my part to let her chop it! This is the shortest my hair has been since I was about 3 and I love it to death.<br />
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<b>Try Something New Even If It's Scary to You</b>: On Monday, Aaron and I hiked to Donut Falls. It felt so good to be up in the mountains again, and to try a new hike. Aaron wanted to climb all the way to the top of the falls, past the sign that said, "Do not climb past this point or else you will die," (or some similar warning,) and I was terrified, but I did it, and nobody slipped and fell onto the sharp rocks and died. So that was a win.<br />
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<b>Be Nice to Someone</b>: My friend's wife is creating a curriculum for a middle school composition class for her music education capstone, and she needed some volunteers to help her workshop it. So Aaron and I were her guinea pig students for a couple of days. We got to create some fun compositions and brainstorm ways to teach some different musical concepts.<br />
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All in all, this week was a success! I will be far away from the Internet next Tuesday, so I'll try to get an early post out by Sunday night. If not, you will get a double post in two weeks. Lucky you!<br />
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What have you made, done or karate chopped this week? Did you try anything now or scary? How have you been nice to someone? Share in the comments!risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-59884097795955176482015-06-02T12:33:00.001-07:002015-06-02T12:35:08.801-07:00In which I become a follower of the Johnny Karate WayWell, this blog has gotten a bit dusty, but seeing as the school year is ending any second now (actually, in three days, but whatever), I thought I'd pull it back out and give this whole creativity thing a whirl. And I actually have an idea for a blogging project that's been fermenting for a couple months now. Hopefully this will keep my brain from atrophying too much during the break.<br />
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If you know me at all, you know that I am a <i>huge </i>fan of the recently-ended show, <i>Parks and Recreation</i>. I didn't know that a TV show could be so simultaneously hilarious, emotionally engaging, and just....goodhearted. Aaron and I started watching it together when we were dating, and soon we referenced our "Pawnee friends" in conversation the same way we would discuss any other mutual friends. <i>Parks and Rec</i> has been, literally, the most influential TV show of my life.<br />
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<img alt="Television Parks And Recreation animated GIF" src="https://media4.giphy.com/media/xQDjOVmYhRGms/200.gif" /><br />
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All right, so, the project! In the final season of <i>Parks</i>, Andy Dwyer, the series' lovable buffoon, has created a children's TV show called <i>The Johnny Karate Super Awesome Musical Explosion Show!</i><br />
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<img alt="Parks And Recreation Tv Show animated GIF" src="https://media0.giphy.com/media/HtvM3fQ8cEUxy/200.gif" /><br />
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<img alt="Parks And Recreation Chris Pratt animated GIF" src="https://media4.giphy.com/media/611sAPr2QrAJy/200.gif" /><br />
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<i>Johnny Karate </i>is absolutely ridiculous, and it also possibly contains the key to a fulfilling life. Johnny's Five Karate Moves to Success are, in order:<br />
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1) Make Something<br />
2) Learn Something<br />
3) Karate-chop Something<br />
4) Try Something New, Even if it's Scary to You<br />
5) Be Nice to Someone<br />
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Each of these five steps has its own segment on the show. What I want to know is, how would my life change if I implemented these steps? Would I become a smarter, kinder, more fulfilled, happier person? Would I become a space ninja from Mars? Would I be disappointed in myself for taking life advice from a fictional children's television program?<br />
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Only one way to find out.<br />
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This summer, I'll be posting every Tuesday with the ways I have used the Five Karate Moves to Success this week (and yes, there will be pictures of karate-chopping stuff). I invite anybody who is interested to join me in this challenge, and keep me posted on how it goes for you.<br />
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Remember, kids:<br />
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<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Well, it’s time for us to go, but I want you all to know</i><br />
<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">That karate’s not about fighting</i><i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">,</i><br />
<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">It’s about knowing who you are,</i><i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">A</i><br />
<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">nd being kind and honest while you’re kicking for the stars.</i><br />
<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Yeah, that’s the Johnny Karate way!</i><i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"> </i><br />
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<i style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: inherit; color: #111111; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"><img alt="Parks And Recreation Wink animated GIF" src="https://media0.giphy.com/media/AxVvjOkfHcWp0JZKWk/200.gif" /></i>risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-46799750918079990892015-04-12T17:31:00.000-07:002015-04-12T17:31:23.652-07:00In Which I Am LonelyNot long ago, loneliness, for me, was inevitable. My roommates would leave on their dates, or to the library to study, or to their graveyard shifts, and I would be left alone. Sometimes I would try to make plans with other friends, and sometimes I would be successful. Sometimes I would call my mom or my sister and catch up. But often I would find myself at home with nobody to talk to, knowing that there was nobody who actively desired my presence. I got accustomed to the dull ache and learned how to work around it and to distract myself, but time and time again, it came back.<div>
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This evening, I feel that ache again. I desperately wish there were somebody home to talk to, to laugh with, or just to sit by. I am craving companionship and I don't know where to find it. It's been so long since I had to deal with this kind of loneliness, and I don't remember how I used to numb it. It hurts.</div>
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But in a strange way, I relish the pain. Its very unfamiliarity is a reminder of the goodness that is my life these days. I get to spend each day with my best friend, and when I'm not with him, I'm either working at a job I love, spending time with friends or family, or relishing my alone time. I still experience depression, anxiety, and stress on a fairly frequent basis, but loneliness? It's almost unheard of now.</div>
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So, tonight I feel lonely. And I am grateful, because it reminds me of the time where loneliness was everywhere, and how much has changed since then.</div>
risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-91326951417963607912015-01-21T17:58:00.002-08:002015-01-21T17:58:44.917-08:00In which I become reacquainted with an old hobbyRecently, I reintroduced myself to my old friend, the sewing machine. I had five very large windows and access to a room full of free fabric, so I decided that I should make some curtains. Now, I haven't actually sewn anything since I was about 13, besides a few errant buttons. I have fond elementary school memories of helping my mom with sewing projects, making a pair of pajama pants for my Dad one Christmas, and making a pillowcase in 7th grade home ec. However, sometime around 8th grade I stopped sewing. Maybe it was because I strongly, <i>strongly</i> disliked my 8th grade sewing teacher. Maybe it was a misguided attempt to reject stereotypically feminine gender roles. Maybe I just knew my mom wanted me to learn to sew and I was being a punk. Who knows. All I know is that even though all I've made so far is a set of really simple curtains, I am in love with this hobby. The hypnotizing clacking of the machine, the precision involved in measuring, cutting, and pressing, and the satisfaction of looking at your finished product....it's just awesome. All of it.<br />
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<img alt="Displaying IMG_20150117_203847501.jpg" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=978580f118&view=fimg&th=14b00cf0120815db&attid=0.2&disp=inline&realattid=f_i53gcpam1&safe=1&attbid=ANGjdJ-5oBUQxufGoNqUvEPAwcWikfzOc1MHFuAGe_8DV8mlW_7dWP_L4ivC8_lkXOkKNOEshbAherzRHUTWw60gof5J20etyoizj296zj4ODL8wPBfHP-pHbgskGuk&ats=1421891870855&rm=14b00cf0120815db&zw&sz=w1563-h604" /></div>
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<img alt="Displaying IMG_20150117_203726134.jpg" src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?ui=2&ik=978580f118&view=fimg&th=14b00cf0120815db&attid=0.3&disp=inline&realattid=f_i53gcpaq2&safe=1&attbid=ANGjdJ95xiqXvvQg7Sgt-_X2aPcyQgPUq5xEg8h5u-Oe9KcfQXTzveMyhIx4rNO-hIJg9Ol9wzp3stIxqTo8UXoNIkWuxvdL7d3b3ph8DoKDMAj2OG4ZDF_7J8AKixQ&ats=1421891870855&rm=14b00cf0120815db&zw&sz=w1563-h604" /></div>
risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-49720823936884737662014-12-04T11:44:00.001-08:002014-12-04T11:44:27.991-08:00In which I have learned a few things this week<br />
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<li>If you are teaching at a school with a population largely made up of refugees and immigrants, you cannot assume that anyone, even the sixth graders, knows the lyrics to "Jingle Bells."</li>
<li>Second, fourth, fifth, and sixth graders can handle singing "don we now our gay apparel" without giggling about the word "gay." Third graders cannot.</li>
<li>Procrastinating going to bed does give me more time to hang out with my husband. However, it also makes me lethargic, cranky, and late for work the next day.</li>
<li>Jeans are not professional enough to wear to work. Unless they have a weird pattern or a bright color. Then they magically transform into business casual (my mint skinny jeans are really happy about this). </li>
<li>Audiobooks can make a 45 minute commute bearable in a way that the radio never will.</li>
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It's been an instructive week, to say the least.</div>
risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-21517510984517052232014-11-11T13:15:00.000-08:002014-11-11T13:15:02.692-08:00In which I use my lunch break to whine.You know, I never really believed that teacher burnout was a thing that would happen to me.<br />
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I would read all these articles about new teachers leaving the profession in droves, exhausted by how much they had to do and I would smugly think, "Well, yeah, but that's never going to happen to me because I <i>love</i> teaching and I <i>love</i> music and I <i>love </i>kids, so I'll just always want to do this."<br />
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Oh, my friends, my friends. I spoke too soon.<br />
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I have been a real, actual teacher for just over two months now.<br />
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And today, I hate it.<br />
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Today, I want to quit.<br />
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Today, I want to go find some job where I don't have to interact with children and I can just have scintillating conversations with adults and like...do data entry or something easy. And I'm sure a cushy job like that doesn't actually exist, everything has a stressful, hard side, but I just want something that is not this.<br />
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I'm sick of being sassed and talked back to. I'm sick of seeing kids zoning out while I teach and knowing it's because my lesson isn't as engaging as I thought it was. I hate that my students either don't take me seriously or hate my class because I'm "mean". I swear I learned all of these foolproof tricks to keep these things from happening back in my college theory classes, but I can't remember most of them, and I think I must be doing the rest of them wrong.<br />
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I guess I just have spent the last 6 years thinking this was something I would love and be really good at, and I feel like I'm not good at it and I don't love it and I just want to go home but I have like three more hours before that can happen.<br />
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And maybe it's because I'm getting over an awful cold (but I'm still not sick enough to make writing a sub plan worth it). And maybe it's because I'm new at this, and as I get better at teaching, it will become more enjoyable. And maybe I'm just having an off week.<br />
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But today, I just kind of want to throw in the towel on this whole teaching thing. Is there anything else I'm qualified for?<br />
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<br />risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-69704833008368159862014-08-26T14:55:00.001-07:002014-08-26T14:55:14.252-07:00In which I learn how to operate a die cut machineGuys, one of my schools has dinosaur die cuts.<br />
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This is the greatest thing.<br />
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I mean, it would make decorating my teaching space easier if they had music note die cuts, but still...DINOSAURS.</div>
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risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-57766955906044016472014-06-18T10:28:00.001-07:002014-06-18T10:28:05.470-07:00In which I've got all this free time and it's super weird.Yesterday I learned that there is no graceful way to answer the question, "What are you up to these days?" when you're up to absolutely nothing.<br />
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See, I graduated. And then I was substitute teaching. And then I was taking a two-week Kodaly course at BYU. But all of those are over now, and I've got about three weeks until the next adventure, which isn't enough time to get a job or anything, so I'm still kind of working on figuring out ways to use the time. Which makes answering questions about my daily activities kind of interesting. Explaining the situation in its entirety takes a little long, and, well, I'll let you see the other answers I've come up with.<br />
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"What are you up to these days, Karissa?"<br />
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<ul>
<li>"Oh, you know...nothing."</li>
<li>"I'm between life stages at the moment."</li>
<li>"Being unemployed. It's great. Oh, no, you don't need to put in a good word for me anywhere. I don't actually want a job right now.../"</li>
<li>"Well, yesterday I cleaned my apartment so thoroughly that I ran out of cleaning supplies!"</li>
<li>"Donating plasma as often as possible. Did you know they give you a free T-shirt the first time?"</li>
<li>"Trying to use up all of the gift certificates I've acquired in my time in Provo. I'm almost halfway done!"</li>
<li>"I mostly just sit on the couch counting the hours until my boyfriend gets home so I can make out with him."</li>
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<br />
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Yeah, my life sounds pretty lame from the outside. But I'm working on some good ways to fill the time. I have a few musical instruments I need to learn before the school year starts, and a crock pot that has still never been used. So maybe I'll have better answers soon. In the meantime, any good suggestions for how I can succinctly answer people's inquiries about my life?</div>
risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-78446683749109554002014-05-21T10:58:00.003-07:002014-05-21T10:58:56.674-07:00If I were still a blogger...I feel like I've lost the whatever-it-was that made me a blogger. That fire where words would build up inside of me and I had to rush to my computer and type until they were out. Which is a shame, because if I still had that fire, if I were still a blogger, there is so much I would tell you.<br />
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I would tell you about the bike ride I went on the other day, and how I stopped by the river and watched it awhile, thinking of how such a calm thing can seem so terrifying when you watch it long enough, trampling itself in a rush to get downstream, like a stampede out of a burning movie theater, or tomorrow morning coming sooner than you'd like.<br />
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I would tell you about the 5.10c I climbed day before yesterday, and the satisfaction I felt when I high-fived the chains at the top.<br />
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I would tell you about how I'm sick this week, and spend every minute of my sub job hoping that the next class will decide they don't need to come to music today so I can rest...and how, since it's the last week of school, my wish is often granted.<br />
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I would tell you about how so many of my best friends are getting married and having babies lately, and how happy I am for them.<br />
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I would tell you about the amazing roommates I've had this year, the job I found for the fall, and my sweet, wonderful boyfriend.<br />
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I would tell you how hard I find it to lose weight while still maintaining a positive body image, and how I wish I could go back to my high school metabolism.<br />
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And maybe I will later. But for today, I am all out of words.risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-7410399013182398792014-01-29T18:35:00.000-08:002014-01-29T18:36:07.740-08:00In which student teaching is a bit roughHere's the thing about kids:<br />
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They are incredibly easy to love.<br />
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They are also <i>incredibly</i> easy to become frustrated with.<br />
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Today was my first full day soloing; my mentor teacher was at an all-day meeting, so it was all me.<br />
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And I said some things I regret.<br />
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And slipped into my impatient, sardonic voice for too much of the day.<br />
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And responded to too many requests by sighing and staring at the ceiling.<br />
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These kids are so tough, but so fragile, and I worry that one of those sighs, frowns, or tired outbursts will permanently break a small part of them.<br />
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All I can do is try again tomorrow. Write a few more kind notes, and recognize the wonderful things my students do, and mete out discipline in a measured, even tone, rather than sniping.<br />
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All I can do is remind myself that I love these munchkins, even when they're doing all they can to make me forget.<br />
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And then keep doing it again and again for the rest of my life,<br />
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because even when I get tired of hearing it repeated ad nauseum,<br />
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My favorite name to be called is "Teacher."risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-15747203967237278012014-01-05T15:39:00.001-08:002014-01-05T15:39:41.763-08:00In which the cold never bothered me, anywayThis weekend, I went with my family to see Disney's new animated film, <i>Frozen</i>. And I was blown away. I loved almost everything about this movie. The music! The animation! The fact that the romantic subplot is a subplot, and not the story's main focus! The music! Sisterly bonding! Olaf the snowman! The music!<br />
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Most importantly, perhaps, is the fact that I walked out of the movie theater with a mind full of new thoughts and a resolution to change my behavior in accordance with these thoughts. Here are a few things I learned from <i>Frozen</i>:<br />
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<ul>
<li>When you are blessed with a gift, you can use it to create or to destroy. When you seek to control a gift with fear, it will almost always lead to destruction. When you use your gift with love, you create beauty and joy.</li>
<li>Trying to solve a problem by shutting yourself off from others and from your own emotions is often more damaging than the problem itself. Letting people into your life can be scary, messy, and complicated, but it also allows love to flow into your life, which increases your capability to face challenges.</li>
<li>"People make bad choices when they're mad or scared or stressed, but throw a little love their way, and you'll bring out their best": When people act in hurtful or destructive ways, it is most often out of pain or fear, rather than maliciousness.</li>
<li>True love is putting others' needs before your own. True love can be found in <i>any </i>relationship, not just romantic ones.</li>
<li>"Everyone's a bit of a fixer-upper": we've all got flaws and challenges, but we can help each other to overcome them.</li>
<li>Reindeers are better than people, but people smell better than reindeers.</li>
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I've been thinking a lot today about what my gifts are, and how I can use them with love instead of trying to harness them with fear. I also wore deodorant today, in an effort to continue smelling better than reindeers. See, people? Life-changing epiphanies all over the place here.</div>
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risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-279685674607897372013-12-29T22:36:00.000-08:002013-12-29T22:37:12.853-08:00In which I attempt to set a New Year's ResolutionToday in church, someone made the statement that God's defining characteristics are creation and compassion. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that all day. How wonderful, that the two most godly attributes are the ability to create beauty, and to love each other.<br />
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I think I want to make these two attributes the focus of the coming year, but I'm not sure how. I think I'm pretty clear on what compassion is, but how encompassing is the idea of creation? Is spending time with a friend an act of creation, because you're creating a bond? What about playing an instrument? If you didn't compose the song, does it still count as creation, because you're creating the sound itself? Does a product have to be completely original to be creative?<br />
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Readers, what do you think? How do you exhibit creativity and compassion in your lives?risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-17594102223733276402013-10-02T12:46:00.001-07:002013-12-29T13:42:04.846-08:00In which I'm longing to escapeI just really want to run away to the mountains right now.<br />
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Forget about my classes, my job, the event I'm running for work tonight....<br />
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I just want to hop in my car and drive up the canyon until I can't see the valley anymore....<br />
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and then wander through the orange-red-yellow trees until I feel myself disappear...my thoughts, hopes, and worries dissipating...until I am nothing but legs and lungs in a forest....and then when I return to myself, I will be that much more refreshed and reenergized.<br />
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but sadly<br />
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though "the woods are lovely, dark and deep...<br />
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I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."<br />
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<br />risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300524510224940889.post-82753327798405781562013-09-29T21:23:00.001-07:002013-12-29T13:43:00.171-08:00In which I actually talk about my lifeSo. Hi.<br />
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I don't post about my actual, day-to-day life very much on my blog. But for some reason, today I really want to. So here you have it: an update on the life of Riss.<br />
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I'm in my last semester of school before I student teach. I would say it's bittersweet, but it's not. It's just straight-up sweet. I love school, and I love learning, but if I had to spend one more semester sitting at a desk listening to someone else lecture at me about how to teach, I would tear my hair out. I am so incredibly excited to start practicum next month, and then to start student teaching in January. Not so excited for the job hunt that will inevitably follow graduation, but...c'est la vie.<br />
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After 3 years of living in the same apartment complex, I've finally moved. I'm living in a house called Ingleside with two friends I've had since I was tiny, and three fantastic new friends (yes, the name of our house is an Anne of Green Gables reference. Yes, that may be why we chose it). Our house looks creepy from the outside, with its partially broken picket fence and its peeling white paint, but on the inside, it is the most charming place I've ever lived. Every room is painted a different color (mine is lavender), the couches remind me of my great-grandmother, and the bathroom is the nicest I've ever had in an apartment (we're talking marble-looking counter and Ikea space-saving shelving here). Also, we have a washer and dryer in a tiny closet off the kitchen. I will never be able to go back to doing my laundry in a laundromat.<br />
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In what feels like the most grown-up thing I've done...ever, I bought a car. I am now an official adult, assuming that making a monthly car payment is what makes you an adult. She's a navy blue Subaru Outback that I've named Lydia and decorated with a stuffed T-Rex on the dash and my Timeturner and Scout camp totem hanging from the mirror. She's got a little bit of work that needs to be done, but I love her just the same. It's incredible the feeling of freedom having a car brings me. If I want to go to the grocery store, I just get in the car and drive down the street. If I want to plan a social outing, I don't need to purposely invite someone who can drive. It's sort of wonderful.<br />
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I started therapy again, after taking a two year break. I'm hoping my counselor can help me work through some of the questions I raised in <a href="http://inwhichiamalive.blogspot.com/2013/08/in-which-i-need-to-figure-out-what.html" target="_blank">this post</a>. Goodness gracious though, I had forgotten how much therapy <i>hurts</i>. It was like spending an hour getting Band-Aids ripped off of various wounds, only to be sent out the door without any additional treatment, just a cheery, "See you in two weeks!" This better be worth it.<br />
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I honestly kind of feel like I'm drowning in the demands of school and work lately. Oh, and I get to present at a conference in Portland in a couple of weeks, but instead of the excitement I should be feeling, I mostly feel overwhelmed at the prospect of getting my presentation over with while also staying on top of my homework. There are so many things I miss doing that I wish I could spend my time on (hiking, camping, rock climbing, and playing the piano, to name a few), but I just don't feel like I have time. But maybe if I spent less time taking homework breaks to watch Lizzie Bennet Diaries...<br />
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I'm reading Moby-Dick right now. This isn't actually breaking news, since I've been reading it a bit at a time since about June. Melville is a master of the English language, but my goodness is his prose dense. I feel like I've been reading for ages and they just barely mentioned the whale by name in the last chapter. I may need to find a lighter, more compelling book to read on the side while I plow my way through Ishmael's adventures. Any recommendations?<br />
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I have this lingering sense of discontent that I can't identify the source of. I wish I knew how to eliminate it and feel excitement for life again. Because there's a lot to be excited about in my life right now. New (to me) house and car. Practicum. Road-tripping to Portland. General Conference this weekend. Leaves changing color. I just need to figure out a way to let myself enjoy it again.<br />
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<br />risshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13105760404189361066noreply@blogger.com1