on a weeknight i get home from work around 10:30 pm, if it's a good night. and by "good" i mean that all the patients got to bed on time, the swing shift was relatively calm, and there wasn't much to write in shift report. all good things. i generally come home tired. my job requires you to be on your feet for the most part of 8 hours. it's a fun job and i love it. but it can be stressful. i love my life, but life is busy, and busy means tired.
i change into pj's and turn on my Mormon Tabernacle Choir Pandora station, before starting my evening routine of teeth brushing, face washing and room organizing. after lotioning my hands with my favorite "no-stress" lotion, i take a look at my planner, add to the next day's to-do list (because i love lists), and say my prayers.
by all normal measures, i should be calmed down, relaxed and ready to sleep by then.
sometimes i'll stay up a little bit to just lie in bed and watch Netflix, read, or scroll through Pinterest. i figure some "vegging" helps calm the mind and is relatively stress free.
but it seems that no matter how relaxed i am, how much my eye lids are drooping, and how much my body begs for sleep, when i turn off my lamp, pull my comforter up and get into a comfortable fetal position in my bed, my mind goes. and goes and goes and goes.
and if you give the unquiet mind a cookie. . .
it doesn't matter if i have nothing to worry about, my mind will come up with something. i'll think about all the things i have on my list for the next day. this naturally leads to thinking about nursing school. and how i need to perfect my resume, write a master's degree level essay, and get in volunteer hours, so i can beat out the 300 other applicants come June. and speaking of volunteering.... how about that Alzheimer's Association you're supposedly volunteering for? you've got to call all those physicians. who know what i'm supposed to say to them, but i need to get info. what if i sound stupid? what if i botch the conversation? what if, what if, what if?
sometimes i'll almost be asleep and then my roommate will come home. for most people, this isn't a problem. but the unquiet mind hears every sound. even the quiet noises. so the movie version of what my roommate is up to, in the kitchen or hallway or bathroom, plays in my mind. i want it to shut off, i even pray that i can just sleep through the noise. i joke that i'm like Jason Bourne, because i'm such a light sleeper, but it's really not such a great thing.
or, if it's been a busy or stressful night at work, my brain will replay over and over everything that happened. did i say the right thing to that patient who was struggling? was i being too rigid with the rules when i enforced that rule? was a being too loose with rules when i just joked around with the girls? did i write everything in shift report? did i email everyone i needed to email? and on and on.
any tangent of thought that my brain can catch on to, it grabs and clutches in an iron fist. and the rambling begins.
the worst is when i have to get up early the next morning. i plan ahead of time so that i get to bed early and can get the maximum amount of sleep. but once my mind starts, it's hard to stop. and once i realize what's happening, i get anxious about losing sleep!!! basically my anxiety causes anxiety. "now i'll be so tired tomorrow." *glances at phone.* "crap, i have to get up in four hours.... i NEED to fall asleep now."
but i don't. and for what seems like hours, i toss and turn, waiting for my brain to become silent, empty. sometimes i fall into a restless sleep, but the mind keeps running at 100 miles per hour. and sometimes, blessedly, true sleep comes.
exhausting doesn't even begin to cover it. but that is just it.
i change into pj's and turn on my Mormon Tabernacle Choir Pandora station, before starting my evening routine of teeth brushing, face washing and room organizing. after lotioning my hands with my favorite "no-stress" lotion, i take a look at my planner, add to the next day's to-do list (because i love lists), and say my prayers.
by all normal measures, i should be calmed down, relaxed and ready to sleep by then.
sometimes i'll stay up a little bit to just lie in bed and watch Netflix, read, or scroll through Pinterest. i figure some "vegging" helps calm the mind and is relatively stress free.
but it seems that no matter how relaxed i am, how much my eye lids are drooping, and how much my body begs for sleep, when i turn off my lamp, pull my comforter up and get into a comfortable fetal position in my bed, my mind goes. and goes and goes and goes.
this is the unquiet mind.
and if you give the unquiet mind a cookie. . .
it doesn't matter if i have nothing to worry about, my mind will come up with something. i'll think about all the things i have on my list for the next day. this naturally leads to thinking about nursing school. and how i need to perfect my resume, write a master's degree level essay, and get in volunteer hours, so i can beat out the 300 other applicants come June. and speaking of volunteering.... how about that Alzheimer's Association you're supposedly volunteering for? you've got to call all those physicians. who know what i'm supposed to say to them, but i need to get info. what if i sound stupid? what if i botch the conversation? what if, what if, what if?
sometimes i'll almost be asleep and then my roommate will come home. for most people, this isn't a problem. but the unquiet mind hears every sound. even the quiet noises. so the movie version of what my roommate is up to, in the kitchen or hallway or bathroom, plays in my mind. i want it to shut off, i even pray that i can just sleep through the noise. i joke that i'm like Jason Bourne, because i'm such a light sleeper, but it's really not such a great thing.
or, if it's been a busy or stressful night at work, my brain will replay over and over everything that happened. did i say the right thing to that patient who was struggling? was i being too rigid with the rules when i enforced that rule? was a being too loose with rules when i just joked around with the girls? did i write everything in shift report? did i email everyone i needed to email? and on and on.
any tangent of thought that my brain can catch on to, it grabs and clutches in an iron fist. and the rambling begins.
the worst is when i have to get up early the next morning. i plan ahead of time so that i get to bed early and can get the maximum amount of sleep. but once my mind starts, it's hard to stop. and once i realize what's happening, i get anxious about losing sleep!!! basically my anxiety causes anxiety. "now i'll be so tired tomorrow." *glances at phone.* "crap, i have to get up in four hours.... i NEED to fall asleep now."
but i don't. and for what seems like hours, i toss and turn, waiting for my brain to become silent, empty. sometimes i fall into a restless sleep, but the mind keeps running at 100 miles per hour. and sometimes, blessedly, true sleep comes.
exhausting doesn't even begin to cover it. but that is just it.
this is the unquiet mind.
. . . she knows how to give you the best personal gifts. on my mission she sent me Harry Potter stamps because she knows i love Harry Potter. . .
. . . she taught me how to love reading. we have a literal library in our basement. growing up with didn't have enough bookshelves so we used wooden boxes stacked on top of each other as bookshelves. i continue to have an addiction to books. don't let me in a bookstore because i end up buying too many books. . .
. . . she's always up for an adventure. she let me plan our entire trip to British Columbia last summer and was totally chill with eating authentic Chinese food, going to the most hippie farmer's market in the PNW, getting bubble tea in downtown Vancouver, going whale watching, and chasing cattle in Vanderhoof. . .
. . .she knows what's up when it comes to oils. one night when i was so anxious and upset that i couldn't sleep, she came and brought me her diffuser, a melatonin and some miracle oil that helped me sleep through that hellish night. . .
. . . every year my mum cooks us whatever we want for our birthday dinner. she's even made me chicken tikka masala and let us eat in the living room, sitting on the floor, whilst listening to Indian music. . .
. . . she puts up with having (almost) ALL adult children! and only one of us is married so basically that means she gets to hear the rest of us complain about dating and every other part of hashtag adult life. she's pretty much a therapist who doesn't get paid anything. we're pretty much goobers as you can see below. . .
. . . she is so selfless! she took care of my aunt who had cancer and liver failure during the last months of my aunt's life. she did all this while doing her calling, working from home, preparing to teach her home school english literature class, and keeping up with us kids. . .
. . . she's helped all five sons get their Eagle Scout Award (and let's face it people she probably did most of the work). and helped me and my sister get our Young Womanhood Recognition Award. now she's Young Women's president and is helping all the YW in our ward! what a rockstar. . .
. . . mum taught me how to be grammatically correct. and yes, even though i'm a scientist at heart, i am still bugged by bad grammar and bad spelling. . .
. . . she taught me the importance of getting an education and more importantly, of following my dreams. she supported me 100% in going to Africa, even helped me fund raise money to go. she supports me in my current job. she helped me survive BYU by reminding me I didn't want to flip burgers for a living. she's continually supporting me as a apply to nursing schools. and she is supporting me as I run for the Huntsman Cancer Institute in June. . .
. . . probably the most impactful thing my mum has taught me is to have faith, to follow the promptings I receive, and to keep going even when things get hard. my mom has had many trials, but she has always stayed faithful and true to her covenants. she reads her scriptures and prays fervently. she attends the temple. she loves her church calling. she tries to be a better person all the time. she's not perfect, but she is perfect at trying. . .
. . . she taught me how to love reading. we have a literal library in our basement. growing up with didn't have enough bookshelves so we used wooden boxes stacked on top of each other as bookshelves. i continue to have an addiction to books. don't let me in a bookstore because i end up buying too many books. . .
. . . she's always up for an adventure. she let me plan our entire trip to British Columbia last summer and was totally chill with eating authentic Chinese food, going to the most hippie farmer's market in the PNW, getting bubble tea in downtown Vancouver, going whale watching, and chasing cattle in Vanderhoof. . .
. . . every year my mum cooks us whatever we want for our birthday dinner. she's even made me chicken tikka masala and let us eat in the living room, sitting on the floor, whilst listening to Indian music. . .
. . . she puts up with having (almost) ALL adult children! and only one of us is married so basically that means she gets to hear the rest of us complain about dating and every other part of hashtag adult life. she's pretty much a therapist who doesn't get paid anything. we're pretty much goobers as you can see below. . .
. . . she is so selfless! she took care of my aunt who had cancer and liver failure during the last months of my aunt's life. she did all this while doing her calling, working from home, preparing to teach her home school english literature class, and keeping up with us kids. . .
. . . she's helped all five sons get their Eagle Scout Award (and let's face it people she probably did most of the work). and helped me and my sister get our Young Womanhood Recognition Award. now she's Young Women's president and is helping all the YW in our ward! what a rockstar. . .
. . . mum taught me how to be grammatically correct. and yes, even though i'm a scientist at heart, i am still bugged by bad grammar and bad spelling. . .
. . . she taught me the importance of getting an education and more importantly, of following my dreams. she supported me 100% in going to Africa, even helped me fund raise money to go. she supports me in my current job. she helped me survive BYU by reminding me I didn't want to flip burgers for a living. she's continually supporting me as a apply to nursing schools. and she is supporting me as I run for the Huntsman Cancer Institute in June. . .
. . . probably the most impactful thing my mum has taught me is to have faith, to follow the promptings I receive, and to keep going even when things get hard. my mom has had many trials, but she has always stayed faithful and true to her covenants. she reads her scriptures and prays fervently. she attends the temple. she loves her church calling. she tries to be a better person all the time. she's not perfect, but she is perfect at trying. . .
love you mum!!!!
**disclaimer: i use "mum" because i wish i was british. obvi.
1. your own happiness is so important!
sometimes we think that if we are making others happy, by sacrificing who we really are, then we will be happy. this is a lie. i remember one late night in february, talking to my mission president on the phone, and he told me, "sister arnesen, your happiness is so important!" i was shocked. it's like i hadn't thought of that. or maybe i'd been so busy convincing myself that i was happy, that i forgot was real happiness was. and i wasn't happy. if you find that you are changing yourself, or trying to chase dreams that actually aren't making you happy, then change it! choose what will make you happy. even if it's the hardest thing you've ever done. even if it means hurting people you care about. be honest. live true to who you are. this might not seem like the road to happiness. and maybe for a while you'll stumble around wondering what really makes you happy. but you'll explore and you'll find it again. i promise.
2. if you don't create your life, then someone will create it for you.
i've learned over and over again that you have to be proactively involved in the creation of your own life. now that i'm not in school it was so easy to let my life to be consumed by things that are basically time wasters. i learned this year that part of creating a life that you love and want to live is daring greatly. it's facing some dark times, asking for help, and then coming out stronger on the other side. it's looking at who you really want to be and then creating goals to help you get there. it's choosing the most important things for you and spending your time doing those things.
3. God always send angels to help you.
as i entered the darkest period of my life, i wondered, quite honestly, who would be there for me. don't get me wrong, i know that i have lots of friends and people who care about me. but many of my friends are married or have moved away, so it's hard for them to be here for me consistently. amazingly, people came into my life. fellow canada vancouver missionaries reached out to me. coworkers became some of my best friends. old friends became pillars that i relied on. on my weak days i could turn to friends- old and new- for support and guidance. and then on the days that i felt completely alone, when i prayed, i felt the presence of angels, who were very near me and very aware of my loneliness, and who loved me oh so much. i promise that God will always send help and angels, whether we see them or not. he is aware of us and sends us the people we need to get through trials.
4. go outside.
i've always loved the outdoors, but this year i really took advantage of this beautiful place i live and basically got outside. if you're ever feeling like you need some perspective, i say, go to the mountains. stand on top of a mountain peak, or next to the ocean. feel the sea breeze on your face, or look at the beautiful changing colors of the leaves. if you need a quiet place to think about life, go the mountains. take a notebook (and, if you're me, a diet coke) and just think. this summer i hiked a lot around Provo and Salt Lake, i went on motorcyle rides up the canyon, i ran in the canyon. and then in the fall i went for drives up the Alpine Loop, we kept running down the mountain. and even when snow came we ran until it was too icy to keep running. if you want a spiritual experience, seeing the seasons change on the canyon trail will give that to you. so start a love affair will nature. it will change your life.
5. read more.
when i was little it was pretty rare that i would be found without a book in my hands. just call me Rory Gilmore. i would be reading all the time. my mom constantly warned me about reading late at night with little light in my room. she said i'd need glasses (ironically, i'm the only one in my family without corrective lenses.) anyways, once i started university, there was literally no time for leisure reading. but this last year i discovered that i again had the time. and if you read any of my book review posts, you will see that i got through some great books last year. i really believe that reading keeps your brain active, expands your horizons, and helps you learn how to think intelligently for yourself. and now that The Dollar Bookstore is a block away from my house, i foresee needing more bookshelves in my room.
6. giving up is not an option.
perhaps you are new to the blog, or perhaps you read this post earlier in 2015. but something that really clicked with me this year is that i was not going to give up. yes, there were days when i thought: "what's the point? blessings don't seem to be coming, so why even try?" but then there i was the next day- trying. reading my scriptures. searching for peace and answers. strengthening my faith. praying. being grateful. attending the temple. it was like i couldn't stop. and then i realized i couldn't stop because i wouldn't stop. it wasn't that i was continuing to go to church and be active in my faith because of what people would think or because i was on auto pilot. i kept going, "pressing forward" if you will, because i have a strong testimony that blessings do come, that God does listen to our prayers, that the Book of Mormon is a true testament of Christ, that the Atonement is a living principle, and that Christ did suffer, die and was resurrected for me. and i knew that if i stopped, if i let up or gave up, i would not be happy. sure, times are hard, and for a few moments, happiness seems so very fleeting. but true, complete, eternal, perfect happiness is always found in the Gospel.
7. it's ok to find a new dream.
you know in Tangled, right before the lanterns go floating into the air and magic happens and Rapunzel is wondering about her dream? she says, "I've been looking out of a window for eighteen years, dreaming about what i might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it's not everything i dreamed it would be?" Flynn assures her that it will be. and then tells her that, if it is or if it isn't, "that's the good part. . . you get to go find a new dream." when i got home from my mission i had everything planned out. i would get married and go to nursing school and everything would be perfect. i found out though that what i thought was my dream, actually wasn't. and it was devastating. i didn't understand why something i had felt good about before my mission could actually be wrong. in retrospect i think that God was giving me the opportunity to see what i really truly wanted, and he was also giving me my agency. so i had to be brave, and not follow a dream that honestly many people wanted me to follow. taking that step was hard. and left me confused and lost for the most part of 2015. to say that there was a healing process is an understatement. but thanks to good friends, family, the Gospel and my Savior, i feel like i have been healed. and i've realized that it's ok to find a new dream. whatever that may be when doors close, it doesn't mean you are stuck, it simply means that another door, or window, is going to open. and you will find a new dream. something to be passionate about. someone to love. places to explore. so keep dreaming.
i've been wanting to write about this for a while now. but things like fear and not knowing what to say stopped me. but part of life is saying things, no matter how hard or uncomfortable it may be, that are important to you.
a few years ago i started to address my anxiety for the first time. it was scary and humbling, because i didn't want those around me to see me as "weak" or "sick." i didn't want my siblings to know that i needed help. i wanted to be strong. i went on my mission and was thankfully blessed to experience very little effects of my anxiety, but since being home (almost a year now!) i have struggled with anxiety. when it came to a point where i felt paralyzed- emotionally, mentally and physically- i got help. for a little while there i was relying so much on weekly meetings with my therapist. i took some brave steps and removed parts of my life that were causing me the most anxiety (and i know that were not right for my life) and struggled to get back to "normal." it's hard to come back from a mission, but it's even harder to come back and be stripped down figuratively "naked," and then try to figure out who you are after that. but i've been working at it, and i know for a fact that i'm doing so much better than i was seven and eight months ago.
there have been very few people in my life who understand what anxiety is. people tell me just not to worry so much. or people will say, "oh that's just your anxiety." i've had people tell me that if i just had more faith then i wouldn't struggle with anxiety. most people don't know how to help me when i am feeling very anxious- and they don't really want to be around me when i am anxious. on top of that some people don't really think you are struggling.
now i'm a big advocate of squaring your shoulders and doing what needs to be done. i also am living proof that the Atonement can heal you. but i also believe that God gives us certain trials that he might not take away for our whole lives. and he expects us to get the best help we can (see Like a Broken Vessel by Jeffrey R. Holland). so i've been seeing a therapist for the majority of this year. i'll admit, it's a bit shameful to admit to people, and it's not something that most people know about me.
because it makes me feel vulnerable.
and most people don't know how to react.
in this year i've learned that i am not my anxiety. it does not determine who i am, really. it doesn't define my character and my personality. my anxiety will never stop me from being the best i can be and from making my life a happy one.
staying close to God has helped me so much in this journey. in the moments that i wondered if there was anyone there, i felt his arms of love around me and i have felt angels surrounding me. this "trial" has blessed me with greater empathy for those who struggle with mental illness. it has allowed me to really relate to the girls i work with. it has kept me humble and on my knees. it has brought me closer to my mom and dad.
so yes, there is good that has come from my mental illness.
i just want anyone who is struggling with a diagnosed [or undiagnosed] mental illness to know that there is hope and help! there is hope through Jesus Christ who truly suffered for everything that we go through. He know how to succor you! and there is help- support groups, therapists, family and friends.
i am so thankful for the family and friends who have been there for me throughout my journey. i am thankful for a wonderful therapist who has helped me dig deep and really understand my anxiety and perfectionism. most of all, i am thankful for a loving Father in Heaven who is always there for me.
i want to help break the stigma of mental illness. having a mental illness does not make you "crazy" even though some times you feel like you are going crazy. mental illness is real, but it doesn't mean that you have to be paralyzed by it. you can live, hey, you can thrive, in spite of a mental illness.
so let's reach out. be a little more compassionate. a little less judgmental. and open our minds and our arms to those who are struggling with mental illness around us.
a couple nights ago i was watching youtube videos of soldiers coming home (i don't know why because they always make me cry) and i realized that September 11 was just a few days away. it got me thinking a little bit. fourteen years ago was a long time ago. the girls i work with- most of them don't even remember it happening, and some of them weren't even alive!
but i remember.
i was 11 years old. up until that day my life had been relatively unscarred. nothing horrible happens in small town America. i'd heard my parents talking about syria, but i didn't know anything about violence, death and war. i knew that war had happened, but in my young mind, it was a thing of the past. something for my parents and grandparents to remember. my mind was filled with the mystery books i was reading, aspirations to become a marine biologist, jumping on the trampoline with my brothers, thoughts of the fall holidays.
because i was homeschooled when the news came through, i was upstairs. i think i was reading a book. my brother came and told me that mom wanted us downstairs right now for something on TV. what?! in my family we only turned on the TV for General Conference or to watch movies together. the fact that we were watching something on TV was a little scary. because it was not something we did. i remember sitting there all morning as my childhood innocence slipped out the window.
i didn't understand the implications of everything that was happening- the politics of it all. but i understood that some one, somewhere, in a place far away, hated America, and so they had decided to hurt thousands of innocent people. i understood that people were dying. and for the first time in my life i felt fear- real fear. fear that there might be a huge war. fear that my five brothers might be sent off to war. a realization that the world wasn't as safe as i had always thought it was.
it seemed like time stood still as we watched. and it stretched out in front as images kept spilling in. mom was crying. we were silent. looking back, i wonder how much my younger brothers grasped of what was going on. at the time, they were 2, 5, 7 and 10.
but something else i saw that day were heroes. firefighters, first responders, policemen, and bystanders, who i saw covered in ash, doing all they could to save people's lives.
but i remember.
 |
| our family at Yellowstone 2001- i'm the one on the far right |
i was 11 years old. up until that day my life had been relatively unscarred. nothing horrible happens in small town America. i'd heard my parents talking about syria, but i didn't know anything about violence, death and war. i knew that war had happened, but in my young mind, it was a thing of the past. something for my parents and grandparents to remember. my mind was filled with the mystery books i was reading, aspirations to become a marine biologist, jumping on the trampoline with my brothers, thoughts of the fall holidays.
because i was homeschooled when the news came through, i was upstairs. i think i was reading a book. my brother came and told me that mom wanted us downstairs right now for something on TV. what?! in my family we only turned on the TV for General Conference or to watch movies together. the fact that we were watching something on TV was a little scary. because it was not something we did. i remember sitting there all morning as my childhood innocence slipped out the window.
it seemed like time stood still as we watched. and it stretched out in front as images kept spilling in. mom was crying. we were silent. looking back, i wonder how much my younger brothers grasped of what was going on. at the time, they were 2, 5, 7 and 10.
but something else i saw that day were heroes. firefighters, first responders, policemen, and bystanders, who i saw covered in ash, doing all they could to save people's lives.
fourteen years later, there are still heroes. servicemen and women who are protecting us daily from the further threat of terrorism. men and women who expend their efforts through diplomacy, humanitarian work, or spiritual leadership to bring freedom to all people. to allow all men and women to have their right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
i will never forget 9/11 because it changed who i am. in remembering, i want to tell those i love how much they mean to me. i want defend my liberties from all who would destroy them. i remember the heroes and i want to be a "helper"- someone who can be there for people in distress. i remember men and women overseas who are fighting to keep us safe. and i remember their sacrifices. i remember my hometown, my upbringing. and i am thankful for the good that has come from all this.
that we can stand united. that we can and should turn to God, not just in time of trouble but always. that loving your neighbor is so important. to appreciate every day we are given. because it is a gift. and i remember that there are so many good people out there. more than the bad.
and that is what makes us great.
"America is great because she is good. if America ever ceases to be good, she will cease to be great." {Alexis de Tocqueville}
i've been away on holiday. but now i'm back and with everyone getting back into school and making plans for the school year, i'm vowing to be a better blogger. that means more blog posts and goodness for you!
you might be wondering what this picture of obviously cheap airplane pretzels and tea has to do with anything. let me tell you.
i planned my trip to canada. and because i'm a perfectionist and a bit ocd i wanted everything to work out perfectly. we [the parents and i] drove up to vancouver, and then flew from there to prince george, british columbia (in the central part of the province) where i would visit two of my areas. we had plenty of time to get to the airport on the day we were flying out. i felt pretty confident of my ability to navigate the vancouver airport. but getting there? that's another story. i'd never actually driven there... and turns out, it takes longer than i thought. suddenly it was 3:30 and we were running from the parking lot trying to get checked in. i was so upset! i don't know why but i was about to give up and say, "just send me back to utah. i'm not dealing with this!" i was a brat at the ticket counter [where a terribly nice Air Canada agent got us on the next flight to Prince George without charging us anything] and was ticked that i had to get an extra check at security. then they took away my lotion that i'd accidentally left in my carry-on bag. it was like the end of the world.
but not really.
when we finally got through security and to our very empty terminal, we settled in for the loooooong 7 hour wait for our flight. i walked around with mom for a bit and simmered down [why does window shopping have that effect?] but inside i still had that feeling in my stomach. like there was a little monster in there just waiting to explode out again.
i read a bit of my airport/roadtrip book "The Happiness Project" [ironic, i know]. i watched a movie. i listened to some tunes and took advantage of free airport wifi. but i was still angry.
when we (finally) boarded our plane i was so fidgety from all the pent up unhappiness that i couldn't concentrate. i was ticked. i really wanted for my trip back to British Columbia to be perfect. i prayed about it and, guys, i even fasted that my trip would be positive. and then i was like, "ok God, make this the happiest, funnest trip EVER."
but i'd forgotten something. i'd forgotten that God can't make me happy. he can't make me enjoy a holiday or a special event.
i have to choose to be happy. no matter what the circumstance might be.
it's up to me to choose.
and so on that small plane, flying through the dead of night, i got some chamomile tea and thought about happiness. and i made a goal that no matter what else happened on my trip i was going to be happy- on purpose.
intentionally happy.
i think i'll try that for the rest of my life.
you might be wondering what this picture of obviously cheap airplane pretzels and tea has to do with anything. let me tell you.
i planned my trip to canada. and because i'm a perfectionist and a bit ocd i wanted everything to work out perfectly. we [the parents and i] drove up to vancouver, and then flew from there to prince george, british columbia (in the central part of the province) where i would visit two of my areas. we had plenty of time to get to the airport on the day we were flying out. i felt pretty confident of my ability to navigate the vancouver airport. but getting there? that's another story. i'd never actually driven there... and turns out, it takes longer than i thought. suddenly it was 3:30 and we were running from the parking lot trying to get checked in. i was so upset! i don't know why but i was about to give up and say, "just send me back to utah. i'm not dealing with this!" i was a brat at the ticket counter [where a terribly nice Air Canada agent got us on the next flight to Prince George without charging us anything] and was ticked that i had to get an extra check at security. then they took away my lotion that i'd accidentally left in my carry-on bag. it was like the end of the world.
but not really.
when we finally got through security and to our very empty terminal, we settled in for the loooooong 7 hour wait for our flight. i walked around with mom for a bit and simmered down [why does window shopping have that effect?] but inside i still had that feeling in my stomach. like there was a little monster in there just waiting to explode out again.
i read a bit of my airport/roadtrip book "The Happiness Project" [ironic, i know]. i watched a movie. i listened to some tunes and took advantage of free airport wifi. but i was still angry.
when we (finally) boarded our plane i was so fidgety from all the pent up unhappiness that i couldn't concentrate. i was ticked. i really wanted for my trip back to British Columbia to be perfect. i prayed about it and, guys, i even fasted that my trip would be positive. and then i was like, "ok God, make this the happiest, funnest trip EVER."
but i'd forgotten something. i'd forgotten that God can't make me happy. he can't make me enjoy a holiday or a special event.
i have to choose to be happy. no matter what the circumstance might be.
it's up to me to choose.
and so on that small plane, flying through the dead of night, i got some chamomile tea and thought about happiness. and i made a goal that no matter what else happened on my trip i was going to be happy- on purpose.
intentionally happy.
i think i'll try that for the rest of my life.
- he wakes up every morning [and has for the last 10 years] to make breakfast so my mom can exercise
- he massages my mom's feet every night [i don't even like feet but think this is cute of him]
- he was in scouts for years and years and even hiked Timp just a few years ago [he isn't a young creature either]
- when i was a baby my dad was getting his PhD at BYU and he had like no time with the family. but every night when he got he would give me a bath just so he could spend time with me.
- when we were little we'd get "late nights" with mom and dad. most often dad and i would end up in the Barbie aisle at Toys R Us.
- my dad used to fence on the roof with his friend John [this was when he was a teenager, not when he was my dad haha]
- once when my dad was a YSA like me, he went to a church dance dressed as a gorilla- his date dressed as a banana. can anyone say hysterical?
- my dad loves Joseph Smith- and so all of us kids love him too.
- he used to rock a really awesome beard- he really looked like an 80's psychologist. too bad mom made him shave it before they got married
- when we were little he'd call us on "mini missions." we'd go take our picture in front of the old MTC sign, get little name tags and eat a meal from the country we'd been called to. this might be one of the reasons 6 out of the 7 of us kids have served missions!
- dad is easy to convince that we need something; "dad, we should stop and get frosty's at Wendy's. we need them!"
- dad will join in the crazy games we play- even if they make him look foolish
- even though i know his work can be very depressing and sad, he never brings that home with him. i never really understood how hard his work was until i started working in mental health as well. respect.
- once my mom told me how mad my dad got when a guy broke up with me- thanks dad for being protective and for wanting me to be happy.
- when i would fall asleep in the car on the way home he would carry me inside. i even would purposefully "fall" out of bed when i was "sleeping" so he'd have to come put me back in bed.
dad, you're pretty rad.
last night my friend at work told me that my dad is amazing and that he is the reason i've got such high expectations for finding a husband. you know what? i think she's right.
a couple months ago i got stitches in my chin. people gave me all these home remedies to help with healing the scar- making sure it wasn't larger than needed. because no one wants an unsightly scar on their chin. [confession: i kind of like scars, because to me, they tell a story.] i finally decided to use frankincense oil. i put a tiny bit of the oil on my scar at night before bed. mom told me to be sparing, because the oil is expensive.
one night, i was lying in bed thinking about how much my scar has decreased in just the weeks i'd been using it. and then, because it's night and my mind was going which ever way i wanted it, i thought about the scars that Christ has.
"Arise and come forth unto me, that ye may thrust
your hands into my side, and also that ye may feel
the prints of the nails in my hands and in my feet,
that ye may know that I am the God of Israel,
and the God of the whole earth,
and have been slain for the sins of the whole world." [3 Nephi 11:14]
for most of my life i've kind of wondered why the three wise men brought the gifts they brought to baby Jesus. gold- i get that. and i've heard that myrrh is used for embalming bodies- as a kind of perfume. but that night, lying in my bed, i understood the significance of frankincense.
Christ, who carries the scars of the sins, sorrows, mistakes and heart aches of all of us, was appropriately given frankincense, with its healing properties, as a baby. and although his scars remain, for us to recognize him by, his sacrifice becomes like frankincense to us. because no matter what scars we carry throughout life- physical, emotional, spiritual- because of Him, they can be healed.
"But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." [Mosiah 14:5]
in the last few months i've realized i'm starting to be an adult- like for reals. i'm done with university (for the moment), i've got a "big girl" job, my own place (still with roommates but what the heck), and i'm virtually independent.
there's a lot of perks- being an adult. i can stay up as late as i want. and sleep in super late (not that i do that). i make my own schedule. and my own grocery list. if i want to eat a cupcake for dinner- i do. any decisions i make are purely my decisions.
i've been making lots of plans to have fun. because for the first time in my life, when i get home from work, i don't have studying to do. no tests to prepare for. so i want to work hard and play hard.
i want to take a day trip to Goblin Valley- leave before the crack of dawn and spend the day exploring the beauties of Utah. i want to hike to the top of mount timpanogas and stand victorious on its peak. i want to ride rollercoasters, screaming my lungs out. i want to ride with the windows rolled down and those summertime tunes blasting. i want to ride the zip line at sundance resort. and then, when leaves start to fall, i want to run through a haunted forest, not because i'm scared, but because the adrenaline is pumping. i want to take a drive up the canyon (preferably on a motorcycle)- just taking in the brilliant colors of autumn. i want to dress up and go party for halloween. i want to make tons of pies for thanksgiving dinner. i want to cheer on my favorite football team. and then when the winter chill sets in, i want to go ice skating and drink hot chocolate afterwards. i want to go sledding and have snowball fights. i want to sing christmas carols with my family. and walk through twinkling lights on the square of the temple.
yes, there are lots of fun things about being an adult. i save up my money. and i have plans to eventually buy my dream car. and get some nice things for my apartment. i plan to go back to school and get a real "big girl" job. i plan to go back to Africa. to learn how to long board. to visit my niece and nephew. to get my nursing degree. to become a yoga instructor.
yup, i've got big plans. happy plans.
but in the last week it's hit me that parting of growing up and being an adult is facing some unpretty truths. you have to close some doors and hope that new doors (or, heck, even windows) will open. you have to budget your money and pay for unpleasant things, like car insurance. you have to take care of your body, because you won't be young forever- and you want to live to see you grandchildren get married. you realize that sometimes the plans which were made with so much anticipation, might not turn out how you planned. so then you have to make a back up plan- send out your second string players. and, the hardest for me right now, is that people you love, admire, and aspire to be like, you see them getting old. and i'm not talking about 40 or 50. i'm talking about bodies and minds failing. i'm talking about age, and with it, diagnoses, hospitals, sickness. i'm talking about pure mortality. i'm talking about realizing that life is precious and time is precious. and even though it's scary and hard to see those you love- your family- changing and forgetting, you need to spend time with them. because it might be gone before you know it.
growing up sometimes requires realizing that a kiss and a band aid won't fix everything. and sometimes even calling your mom won't help, because her battle is harder than yours. so you live your life. you wake up. you get in a good sweaty workout. you get ready. you go to work. you love your job, your coworkers, your patients. and then you go home. and it's late and you're tired. and reality reminds you that life is short. and so you cry a little bit. because you're a tiny bit scared and a tiny bit guilty. scared to say good bye. guilty because you are in denial. then you sleep, and wake, and start all over again.
this is not a post about complaining. life is good. the possibilities are quite endless. each day i can make of it what i want. each day i create my reality. there is so much ahead. i know that it will get even better.
no, this isn't a pity post.
it's a reality post.
because at some point or another reality hits you.
there's a lot of perks- being an adult. i can stay up as late as i want. and sleep in super late (not that i do that). i make my own schedule. and my own grocery list. if i want to eat a cupcake for dinner- i do. any decisions i make are purely my decisions.
i've been making lots of plans to have fun. because for the first time in my life, when i get home from work, i don't have studying to do. no tests to prepare for. so i want to work hard and play hard.
i want to take a day trip to Goblin Valley- leave before the crack of dawn and spend the day exploring the beauties of Utah. i want to hike to the top of mount timpanogas and stand victorious on its peak. i want to ride rollercoasters, screaming my lungs out. i want to ride with the windows rolled down and those summertime tunes blasting. i want to ride the zip line at sundance resort. and then, when leaves start to fall, i want to run through a haunted forest, not because i'm scared, but because the adrenaline is pumping. i want to take a drive up the canyon (preferably on a motorcycle)- just taking in the brilliant colors of autumn. i want to dress up and go party for halloween. i want to make tons of pies for thanksgiving dinner. i want to cheer on my favorite football team. and then when the winter chill sets in, i want to go ice skating and drink hot chocolate afterwards. i want to go sledding and have snowball fights. i want to sing christmas carols with my family. and walk through twinkling lights on the square of the temple.
yes, there are lots of fun things about being an adult. i save up my money. and i have plans to eventually buy my dream car. and get some nice things for my apartment. i plan to go back to school and get a real "big girl" job. i plan to go back to Africa. to learn how to long board. to visit my niece and nephew. to get my nursing degree. to become a yoga instructor.
yup, i've got big plans. happy plans.
but in the last week it's hit me that parting of growing up and being an adult is facing some unpretty truths. you have to close some doors and hope that new doors (or, heck, even windows) will open. you have to budget your money and pay for unpleasant things, like car insurance. you have to take care of your body, because you won't be young forever- and you want to live to see you grandchildren get married. you realize that sometimes the plans which were made with so much anticipation, might not turn out how you planned. so then you have to make a back up plan- send out your second string players. and, the hardest for me right now, is that people you love, admire, and aspire to be like, you see them getting old. and i'm not talking about 40 or 50. i'm talking about bodies and minds failing. i'm talking about age, and with it, diagnoses, hospitals, sickness. i'm talking about pure mortality. i'm talking about realizing that life is precious and time is precious. and even though it's scary and hard to see those you love- your family- changing and forgetting, you need to spend time with them. because it might be gone before you know it.
growing up sometimes requires realizing that a kiss and a band aid won't fix everything. and sometimes even calling your mom won't help, because her battle is harder than yours. so you live your life. you wake up. you get in a good sweaty workout. you get ready. you go to work. you love your job, your coworkers, your patients. and then you go home. and it's late and you're tired. and reality reminds you that life is short. and so you cry a little bit. because you're a tiny bit scared and a tiny bit guilty. scared to say good bye. guilty because you are in denial. then you sleep, and wake, and start all over again.
this is not a post about complaining. life is good. the possibilities are quite endless. each day i can make of it what i want. each day i create my reality. there is so much ahead. i know that it will get even better.
no, this isn't a pity post.
it's a reality post.
because at some point or another reality hits you.
