afternoon.

it's friday afternoon.  i've had a delicious mid-afternoon nap.  and now i've steeped myself a pot of my favorite rubyfruit tea.  my new apartment is clean and already feels like my home.  there's a picasso on one wall, a matisse on another, and a hopper on a third.  and now i'll settle down with my tea and my book and make progress on my work.  and life--life is very good.

and you?  how have you spent your friday afternoon?

capable.

so this year, i'm on my own.  where school is concerned, that is.  i'm out of funding until i pass my exams (which i should have passed ages ago).  so i'm paying my own way this year.  which means i'm dependent on financial aid.  can't pay tuition without a loan.  and yesterday--yesterday i got this horrible message form the financial aid office telling me i wasn't eligible for financial aid due to insufficient academic progress.  mind you, this is one day after i put nearly $4,000 in tuition on my credit card, depending on my loan to come through to pay it off.

so i panicked.  for about 45 minutes.  just sat on my bed with thoughts of failure and not being able to finish my program whirling through my head.  it was miserable.

and then i snapped myself out of it and got to work.  prepped a brief lesson for my classes.  got to school to teach.  let my students out a bit early each hour so i could make phone calls while campus offices were open.  i made an appointment with the ombudsman to begin the appeals process.  i emailed a faculty mentor to get her advice.  i emailed the chair of graduate studies to alert him to the situation and ask if we could meet to discuss it.  i called the office that helped me procure a leave of absence last year to see if they could help advocate for me.  i did everything i could think of to set an appeal in motion and get my ducks in a row.

everything except talk to the financial aid office, that is.  because they never answered their phone, there was no voicemail option (even though their phone said there was) and no email option (even though their website said there was).  it was very frustrating.

so first thing this morning i went to campus to visit the financial aid office.  where i discovered there had been a clerical error.  their computer had not registered that i was on academic leave last year and so had disqualified me.  three minutes and it was fixed.  i should get my financial aid award tomorrow.

and i am proud of myself.  a year ago i would have had a massive panic attack had this happened.  and then just given up.  six months ago, i would have melted into a puddle of tears.  but yesterday i did what needed to be done.  calmly and rationally assessing the situation and finding alternatives.  it felt lovely.  it's so good, after years of depression, to feel like myself.  to be capable and productive.

so here i go.  back into the breach, prepping for exams which i will take in may or june.  and next year i will write two chapters of my dissertation, with a third during the summer, so that fall of 2011 i can go on the job market.  and june of 2012 will see me robed to receive my third degree.  just watch and see.

perfection.

here's a recipe for a perfectly lovely summer evening:

• picnicking in the lovely palm garden of the huntington library and gardens 
• antipasto followed by stuffed grape leaves
• an amazing salad of arugula, delicious heirloom tomatoes, full cream mozzarella cheese all drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper
• munching on brownie, tart tatin, and fruit tart
• music filtering through the trees
• children dancing to the music 
• sampling original recipe, made-with-cane-sugar dr. pepper---slightly fruitier and less carbonated than the typical stuff
• wonderful conversation with doctor dean and doctor doctor
• visiting the american art collection to see paintings by my favorite portraitist 

that, my friends, is just about the most perfect evening possible.

i've been making big decisions lately.  which i'm not going to go into much here.  not yet, anyway.  suffice it to say they've been stressful.  i find myself needing stress relief almost constantly--something that will keep myself a bit busy but without being too taxing.  so i've been stitching.  a lot.  crocheting, specifically.

last summer i decided i wanted to make my own version of an afghan of my mother's that i've always loved.  it was made by my great-grandmother.  and my mama told me it's called grandma's garden--a very fitting name:

so i did a bit of searching online for patterns, which helped me figure out a few basics like how to get started and how to make corners.  and, since my mom taught me to crochet nearly twenty years ago, i needed to brush up on my basics.  and then i sat down with my great-grandma's afghan and figured out the pattern.

it's been very therapeutic to have something beautiful to stitch at the last six months.  life hasn't felt very beautiful, so it's good to watch yarn unspool off a skein and turn into beautifully colored flowers in my hands.  and i love that these flowers will connect me to my grandmothers who created so much beauty themselves.

proud.

last night i went to target.  target is wonderful.  a haven.  i can take any problem to target and find some distraction.  so when i found myself sitting around, feeling a bit glum (isn't that a lovely word?), i decided to get out of the house and go pick up a few required items for my new apartment (i moved--yay!).  and you know what?  i'm proud of myself for going to target.  that's right.  proud of myself.  for going to target.

i know, i know.  target isn't much better (if at all) than those other big-box stores.  consumerism is bad.  retail therapy is bad.  yada yada.  but i'm still proud of myself.  because i could continue sitting on my rear end, wishing somehow my computer would connect me to a real live person (which i'd already been doing for well over an hour); or i could get off my rear end and engage.  with something.  anything.  even if it was just going to target to buy a trashcan with a lid on it so my new kitchen doesn't stink.

you know what else i'm proud of?  when i was at target, i resisted spending $65 on the only wireless router that looked reliable just because i want wireless at my new place RIGHT NOW, not in a few days.  instead, i put it back on the shelf and, when i got home, did a bit of research about wireless routers and where to get the best prices (any suggestions? i'm still figuring this one out).  and i'm proud of myself for buying a compact fluorescent lightbulb because it's good for the environment.  even if i dislike CFL's because the light they generate feels cold to me.  and i'm proud of myself that the biggest indulgence of this trip to target was a compact surge protector with a built in USB charger so i can charge my phone while having my computer, lamp, and printer plugged in all at once.

this is what i hold on to right now.  small things.  i've done a lot of small things in the last couple of months of which i'm proud.  sometimes it's as simple as calling someone--just connecting to another person.  sometimes it's working--having actual ideas about actual literature.  sometimes it's eating.  i'm proud of myself for eating.  how's that for a window into how bad things have been?

things have been bad enough that i have, in many ways, not been myself.  i don't know what i would have done had i not had such incredible people loving me, helping see me through.  but i haven't made it only because of the people who have helped me.  as a friend pointed out , i am also one of my sources of support.  i'm proud of myself for more than just little things.  i'm proud of myself for big things, too.  because in the last two months i've done more to change my life than i have in the last two years.  i'm not happy about how things are right now.  i'm not happy that my relationship with j(wh) is over.  or with the outcome of the prop. 8 ballot measure.  i'm not happy in my relationship with my church.  there are a lot of things that could be much, much better.  but i can say this much--i'm happy with myself.  i'm happy that, with my family and friends' love, i have made significant changes in my life that have brought me greater peace now and which, i have no doubt, will bring happiness in the future.

peace.

caveat (always fun to start with one): the first couple lines of this post might make it sound like a downer.  it won't be. 

the last five weeks have been hard.  downright horrible, to be honest.  but i'm not going to explain that any further here (those of you who deserve to know either already do know or have contact info you can use to ask me).  i'm not through the horrible stuff.  i'm not sure when i will be.  but i've discovered that when life gets yucky, it helps to consciously identify the good things.  so here are a few things that have brought me peace in the last few weeks:

• warm baguette with butter in the company of friends.
• an hours-long film adaptation of a victorian novel which stars beautiful men. also in the company of a friend.
• the love of a woman who hardly knows me but noticed my pain and hugged me while i cried.
• home-cooked meals, decadent ice cream, all my favorite treats, and a refuge offered by still other friends.
• making the acquaintance of a hummingbird who hovered a foot and a half in front of me for an endless moment when life felt dark.  and then a similar encounter with a bumbling-buzzing black bee.
• my mama hugging me and crying with me.
• planning another roadtrip to the bay area--wonderful company sharing wonderful food, music, and bookstores.
• an afternoon spent wandering a beautiful garden and perusing old books followed by singaporean food for dinner and a girls' night out to the movies.
  
• weekly lunches with fellow grad students.
• finding myself a new apartment and planning my move.
• trying to live with more integrity.  no matter how painful it might make some situations.
• laughing at tina fey's brilliant riffs on sarah palin.
• thai therapy on thai tuesdays.  trust me, it's amazingly effective.  
• letting myself dance even if i have felt rather miserable.
• letting myself vent all the emotion through tears and rage.
  
• sharing meals and conversation with george.
• a new batch of students who seem eager to participate and succeed.
• knowing that i'm taking care of myself.
• crazy bunnies playing chicken with my car at night.  they made me laugh and i figure laughter adds to peace.

life kind of sucks at the moment.  but the world is beautiful.  and people are wonderful.  and i am loved.  and that certainly brings peace.

simplicity.

a few weeks ago i wrote that i wanted life to be simple. and last night i found simplicity. i texted j(wh) late yesterday afternoon and, instead of the stereotypical dinner-and-a-movie, i proposed dinner and a bookstore. so we ate delicious food. and then we wandered through the aisles of borders, browsing through books about everything from politics to birds to hippos-with-glued-on-shoes and relationships. and, when the music on the loudspeakers got a bit bluesy, we danced in the aisle.

and there was my simplicity. two hours in the company of my love. and, when he had to go back to work and i drove home, i took joy and peace with me.

wordless.

wednesday.

confidence.
i have been thinking a lot about confidence lately. mostly because it feels like mine has dissolved and disappeared in the last four years. it's no secret that i'm an opinionated woman. that i really see no reason to keep my thoughts to myself. except when tact dictates that i do (and i'm generally tactful). but where i used to question everything in an academic setting--where i challenged everything, from professors' comments in class to the ideas presented in articles--i no longer do. i've watched my marginalia change from in-your-face questions challenging the foundational premises of an argument to basic regurgitation of points made in the text. and it drives me absolutely batty. because somewhere inside of me that provocateur is still there, still has questions demanding answers. but somehow i just can't ask them anymore.

and i want to know where my confidence has gone. in part it's a victim of the depression i've dealt with off and on for the last five years or so. in part it's a victim of a graduate program designed to beat people down. (i know that's extreme; and i don't think it's entirely overt; but that is undeniably one of the dynamics of grad school.) mostly i think it's been replaced by fear. fear of an unknown future. fear of loneliness. fear of sounding like a moron. fear of feeling like i've accomplished something only to be told i failed. and, worst of all, on some level i fear success--almost as if the beauty of the life i envision will make the pain of life that much greater, more unbearable, so it's better to just be dulled. mediocre accomplishment with mediocre pain to go with it.

the problem is, that the questions are still inside me waiting to be asked. the lover of beauty is never going away. i can't help seeing the world with my particular slant on truth. i'll never be able to live so that everything is just kind of even--no big ups, no big downs, just steady. because it will hurt that there's a part of me bottled up inside, no matter how much i manage to avoid pain.

so i've been thinking about confidence. about what it is. about how it works. about how i can get mine back. and it made me remember a talk elder holland gave during my last year at byu. 'cast not away therefore your confidence.' in it, elder holland recounts god showing moses a vision of all of the earth and all of its inhabitants and satan's subsequent appearance to moses, demanding that moses worship him. after moses rejects satan, saying 'get thee hence, satan; deceive me not,' satan cries out with a loud voice, saying 'i am the only begotten, worship me. and it came to pass that moses began to fear exceedingly; and as he began to fear, he saw the bitterness of hell. nevertheless, calling upon god, he received strength. . .' i've always been struck by the fact that moses only sees hell after he fears. so long as he retains the confidence of his knowledge of god and god's creation, he simply dismisses satan. elder holland calls attention to that fact, sharing several other examples of fear preventing god's children from relying upon their confidence. his talk is wonderful, and you should read it.

but every time i read that talk (and i've read it numerous times in the last ten years), i think about that phrase: 'cast not away therefore your confidence.' and i wonder what it means. what is it that we cast away when we allow fear to come between ourselves and our confidence? what is confidence, other than a vision from god (not something i can claim ever to have received)? what is it other than a revelation of a specific course of action (as in the example of moses parting the red sea, another example elder holland shares)? what is it in my situation, where confidence seems to be ability combined with a state of mind (or an inability combined with a state of mind)?

being a total english nerd, i turned to the oed (for those of you not english nerds, that translates to the oxford english dictionary), which defines confidence as: the mental attitude of trusting in or relying on a person or thing; assurance; assured expectation; assurance, boldness, fearlessness, arising from reliance; an object or ground of trust--that which gives confidence, boldness, or security. the etymology of the word indicates that it originally indicated two friends who mutually confide in or trust each other (makes sense; the etymology doesn't break the word down to its component parts, but con- as a latin prefix means 'with' and fid- is the root of words that mean faith).

but what does it mean spiritually? in psalm 65, the psalmist cries out, 'o god of our salvation; who art the confidence of all the ends of the earth.' proverbs 3 (a beautiful chapter of scripture) confirms this idea that god is himself the confidence of all the earth. after urging us to 'lean not unto [our] own understanding,' but to instead find wisdom and get understanding (by which god founds the earth and establishes the heavens), we are told: 'my son, let not them depart from thine eyes: keep sound wisdom and discretion: so shall they be life unto thy soul, and grace to thy neck. then shalt thou walk in thy way safely, and thy foot shall not stumble. when thou liest down, thou shalt not be afraid: yea, thou shalt lie down, and thy sleep shall be sweet. be not afraid of sudden fear, neither of the desolation of the wicked, when it cometh. for the lord shall be thy confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken.'

the lord shall be our confidence. and i'm struck by the repetition of 'foot'--our feet will not stumble. the lord will keep our feet from being taken. and it reminds me of the promise made in genesis after the fall that god will 'put enmity between thee [satan] and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it [christ, but by extension all who take upon them christ's name] shall bruise thy head, and thou [satan] shalt bruise his heel.' god will be our confidence--our assured expectation; our boldness; our fearlessness--because through reliance on him, our feet will be kept. we will not stumble. satan may bruise our heel, but we will continue on without our feet being taken.

but what does that mean? in his talk, elder holland urges us not to stop once we've received revelation. and he explains that revelation is not just information (the knowledge that god is our confidence, for instance). it's also action. it's moving forward into the terrifying void created by parting the red sea. it's refusing to turn back in the face of an unprecedented course of action because the old captivity seems less bizarre and more sure than the way forward across dry land between towering walls of water (at least that's the way cecil b. demille makes it look).

just as it's a mistake to receive information and stop there without understanding and taking the way forward--the actions that will make that information efficacious--, it is a mistake to read far enough to get the philosophical without continuing to get the practical understanding of confidence. having told us that 'the lord shall be [our] confidence, and shall keep [our feet] from being taken,' the proverb continues: 'withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it. say not unto thy neighbour, go, and come again, and to morrow i will give; when thou hast it by thee. devise not evil against thy neighbour, seeing he dwelleth securely by thee. strive not with a man without cause, if he have done thee no harm.'

it seems to me that confidence--my confidence and yours--is not merely god protecting us from harm. it is also our continuing on in goodness. it is, as joseph smith demonstrated after having been tarred and feathered by a mob, continuing as usual in spite of whatever fear or difficulty we face. and as we do so, we will 'lie down, and [our] sleep shall be sweet.' and we will find that, according to isaiah, 'in returning and rest shall [we] be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be [our] strength.' indeed, if i have learned anything about confidence through the depression and darkness of the last few years, it's that raging at god exacerbates the fear and the loneliness, while quiet acceptance of his will fills me with peace. when i return to him and try to develop a relationship of mutual trust and faith with him, i no longer fear.

i think it is the mutuality of the relationship that creates confidence. in placing my faith in god, i also place my faith in his perception of me, in myself. in accepting him as the source of assurance, fearlessness, and boldness, i accept myself as assured, fearless, and bold. because he sees in me (and each of his children) all of the pure potential that lies within. in realizing (in the literal sense of making real in my life) christ's atoning sacrifice by doing his will, i fill my heart with love leaving no space for fear. because 'perfect love casteth out fear.' and god truly becomes my confidence.

springtime.
roses are, for me, home. when i was very small, our backyard was overgrown. the side yard was a positive jungle of weeds and tall grass and ivy. we had an enormous rubber tree that dropped leaves everywhere. and my mama grew vegetables in pots. i remember eating peas in the pod fresh off the plant. but the thing i remember most is the roses. frequently my dad would give my mom a rose bush for a birthday or an anniversary. and i started learning their names even when i was small.

when i was in grade school, i loved to take a rose to my teacher. i'd ask my mom in the morning before school. and sometimes life was hectic and she was busy and the answer was no. but sometimes the answer was yes, and i was given a pair of clippers to cut the perfect blossom. and my mom would wrap the stem in wet paper towel and then in tin foil and i would carefully, and proudly, carry it to school.

eventually we re-landscaped the yard and it was no longer a jungle. but there were still roses. always roses--both inside and outside the house. it wasn't unusual for my dad to send my mom flowers. for special occasions they were usually roses (but not often red ones; they're kind of dull). but the ones i liked the very best in the house were the ones mama cut in the garden. a little bit of beauty she had planted and cultivated and brought in to share.

when i went away to school, the roses were one of the things i looked forward to most when it was time to come home (other than family, of course). i'd come home just about this time of year--maybe a week later. and the roses would be in the middle of their first spring time blooming. big beautiful blossoms of all colors. air full of heady scent.

i have my favorites of course. i love joseph's coat for it's crazy sprawl and it's gorgeous orange and yellow coloring. betty boop develops from brilliant yellow and pink, to white and red. intrigue smells sultry, with a twist of citrus. plus it's a beautiful plum purple. double delight begins with pure white petals at its heart surrounded by brilliant pink-scarlet. as it ages, its center petals change from white to red. one day, i went out mid-afternoon to visit the roses (and that's the correct description for what i do when i go to see the roses) and found the most perfect double delight with its pure white center. i went out later that same day, at the end of twilight, and that same bloom's heart had changed. it made me want to spend hours watching, just to see how the change happens. in the spring, the blooms on first prize are often as big as a salad plate. and fame gives me an almost constant abuandance of fluttery red blossoms.

when i moved back to southern california to go to school, my mom took me to the nursery and bought me some roses of my own. i loved coming home from a busy day of school and work to discover my mini roses blooming on my porch. and they managed to survive even my worst neglect (they're surprisingly hardy plants, roses). i still have my mini rose garden. my mom has turned them into habitat for one of her garden fairies.

nothing gives me peace quite like the roses. i walk into the yard to visit them and all of the worries and stress simply disappear.

i thought i'd share their beauty. wish you could be here to see them for yourself.

{the roses, top to bottom: betty boop, joseph's coat, just joey, duet, golden showers, joseph's coat, double delight, 4th of july}

happy.
on wednesday this week i finished my paper. it took nearly two weeks of daily thought-grind, a perpetually sore backside, and enough grit to force myself through the almost daily feeling that i was reinventing the wheel everytime i sat down to work on it. but thanks to two-and-a-half dozen cans of diet dr. pepper and, more importantly, the encouragement and support of good friends (especially seymour, who forced me to take the occasional break for sustenance and put up with my apparently maddeningly noncommittal progress reports), i managed.

and you know what? it made me happy. and excited. as hard as it was to articulate all the thoughts about the moonstone that had been whirling around my mind for the last three months, it felt good to make the connections and build an argument and say something interesting and, i think, important about community.

you may have surmised by now that i'm going back to school. but i made the decision before i finished the paper. a while ago now, actually. a decision that i did not want to make a decision based on what would make it easier to get through the day; that i wanted to do what brings me fulfillment and happiness, not what is second best. a decision that while i may not always be able to control feeling discouraged or lonely or occasionally depressed, i can control my reactions to it. a decision to take the gifts i think i've been given and make something of them--including this opportunity i have to earn this degree.

i was surprisingly at peace throughout the writing process, in spite of the stress i felt. so much so that a friend commented a week and a half ago that i looked happier and more at peace than i had for a long time. the last few days the world has felt like a beautiful place and my life has felt light and full of opportunity. maybe because for the first time in a long time, it felt like i could manage all of the aspects of my life. maybe because i surprised myself by writing the paper by my self-imposed deadline. maybe because i'm simply letting myself be.

light.
a scripture chain for you. tracing it last night made me feel better; hope it makes you feel better, too.

• alma 5:7 speaking of a people in captivity to the lamanites: god 'awakened them out of a deep sleep, and they awoke unto god. behold they were in the midst of darkness; nevertheless their souls were illuminated by the light of the everlasting word.' such a beautiful idea, that our souls can be 'illuminated' even in the 'midst of darkness.'
  
• d&c 50:24-25 in which we learn that light, when it is received and when we continue in god, creates more light--that it 'groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day. . . . and i say it that you may know the truth, that you may chase darkness from among you.' i love that--that if we know the truth that light increases as we receive it, then we will be able to chase darkness away.
  
• d&c 93:36, 39 in which we understand that 'the glory of god is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth' and that, by implication, if 'the wicked one' takes away light and truth through disobedience, then obedience brings light and truth. and i read obedience not as simply doing what we're told; since this is presented in the context of knowledge and truth, rather than simply performance, i think that obedience refers to living in keeping with god's will because we understand it--because it is a part of us.
  
• 1 john 2:4-5 in which we learn that truth is not in any man who claims to know christ but who does not keep his commandents; that god's love is perfected in she who keeps the commandments. and in verses 8 through 10, we learn that we abide in light when we love our brothers and sisters.
• light then is a result of obedience. and in my reading of these verses, obedience takes the shape of love (which is, after all, the heart of the two great commandments--to love god and to love our neighbors as ourselves). so as we love others, we are filled with light--even in the midst of darkness.
• d&c 115:5-6 in which we are told to 'arise and shine forth' not only that our light (our love, not our selves) may be a 'standard for the nations,' but also that our 'gathering together' and our stakes (in other words our communities) will be a source of defense and refuge from the darkness of the storm.
  

i love these ideas. that as we do the will of god, we will be filled with light. and as we let that light shine forth--as we live the truths we know, as we love, actively making our world better--we will build communities which will have the power to 'chase darkness from among [us].' that our souls will be enlightened by the word, the word which is christ, christ who is love incarnate--that our souls will be illuminated even in darkness.

epiphany.
until a month ago, i had never spent much time thinking about the gifts of the wise men. all i knew was that they represented great wealth and that we exchange gifts at christmas partially in honor of the fact that the magi brought gifts to the baby jesus. historically, the arrival of the magi was celebrated on january 6—twelfth night or epiphany (in some traditions, this was seen as the actual day of christ’s birth) and the twelve days between christmas and january 6 were festival days. so i thought i would share what i learned to celebrate twelfth night.

last month when i began preparing a lesson about the christmas story, i started exploring the connotations of the gifts the wise men brought to the infant jesus (or the toddler, as my father believes he was by the time the magi appeared). gold, frankincense, and myrrh. the only one i’ve ever understood on any level was gold, the precious metal we continue to value as a symbol of wealth and status and, when we occasionally think figuratively, purity. so i spent a little time looking up these gifts of the wise men and was struck by what i discovered.

the aromatic resin frankincense was not only used in perfumes, but also in the holy incense used during sacrificial rites. myrrh, another resinous substance, was even more valuable than frankincense—sometimes worth more than its weight in gold. like frankincense, myrrh was used not only in perfumes but also in holy incense and ointments. it was used specifically in ointments for healing and in rites of purification.

certainly these gifts brought to the baby jesus meant much more than their monetary worth. this child had come into the world as the ultimate sacrifice. the frankincense the magi brought marked christ’s willing self-sacrifice that all mankind might be cleansed of sin and live again. his ministry and atonement both brought healing beyond any that could have come through the medicinal or ritual value of myrrh. and just as myrrh represented purification, christ’s atonement promised all men and women the possibility of absolute purity.

gold is perhaps the most interesting of the three gifts the magi brought. gold was used anciently in many of the ways it is used now—not only as a marker of wealth, but also as an ornament of places and tools with cultural and religious significance. it can be easily dismissed as a relatively simple symbol of reverence, if not already dismissed as nothing but a marker of wealth. but gold presents itself throughout the bible not only as a marker of wealth and respect for things sacred, but also as a symbol of evil. the false idol the children of israel built in their weakness was a golden calf. the love of money is the root of all evil. the gold the magi brought represented not onlychrist's purity and the magi's devotion to and worship of the son of god. i believe it also represents a willingness on our part to sacrifice our own pride, our evil tendencies, our false gods so that we might instead take up the gospel of christ. when we do so, we will be motivated not by wealth or pride or evil, but by the desire for healing of our hurts and a return to purity. and we will strive to help others find that same healing and purity. these sacrifices—christ’s sacrifice of his own life and blood and our sacrifice of our pride, sin, and egocentrism and the dedication of our lives—together make peace, love, and hope possible. may the new year be full of these gifts as we do his work.

ocean.
tonight i went to the beach. after dark. in december. it rained last night and this morning when i drove down the canyon and looked out over the ocean, there were white caps dotting the ocean as far out as i could see. and the crescent beach just north of laguna was being pounded with big waves sending white spray up the face of the cliff. i wonder if the water would have reached the mobile homes that were just torn down two or three months ago. when i drove back into town this evening, i could see the white of the waves as they hit the shore at main beach. so i stopped. on a whim. and walked out and watched for a bit.

i've lived near the ocean most of my life. i rarely go to the beach. but i know when i'm not near it. and i miss it. there's something indescribably magical about the ocean with all of its variable moods and colors. the thing i love the most about it is the way it soaks up all of the light of day and then, when the sun is setting and the darkness of night is coming, it gives that light back--glowing long after the sun has gone. at those moments, it seems possible that this world can find peace.

rain.
i'm sitting in my office working, listening to devotchka. and it's raining outside. and it's lovely. i think i'll make a cup of hot chocolate. perfection.

autumn.
i love fall. it's almost a contradiction--plants dying, preparing for the hibernation and lifelessness of winter. but the air is practically sparkling with anticipation and expectation. promises of pure blue skies with fire-orange and gold leaves. or a stormy gray day perfect for curling up with a cup of cocoa and a good book. the happiness of family gatherings replete with mama's pumpkin pie and other yummy goodness. i think i like autumn more than any other season. and this illustration captured some of the magic i find in it.

peace.
morning mist on my lake. part of the hilton lakes in the high sierra outside bishop. i took this about three years ago, the first time i went into the mountains with my brothers. going there is like going home.

i've decided to do an image of the week. sometimes a photo i take. sometimes a photo from someone else that's meaningful to me on a personal level. sometimes a photo or image that i've discovered and think is beautiful.

light.
my week began and ended with light. i turned thirty-one last monday. my body woke at 6:00, unbidden, to a silence-filled dawn. my blinds were open and i watched as first light crept into the world, infusing the sky with golden periwinkle against which a palm tree stood silhouetted, the whole striated by my blinds. after watching the gold grow stronger and the blue of night fade, i sat up so i could look out on my world and discovered a crystal clear sky, blue mountains beckoning along the horizon. it was a beautiful way to start a new year.

as i moved through that day, thinking about the opportunities created by starting a new year, the clarity of that half an hour laying in bed watching the gleam infuse the world stayed with me. as i looked forward i saw nothing but possibility and happiness and love. in many incarnations, but possibility and happiness and love nonetheless. that feeling stayed with me all week, coloring all of my interactions with others. shaping my attitudes. leaving me feeling happier than i have in years. and for no discernible reason.

last night as i drove on a wild goose chase to meet friends, the sun set, filling the world with shadows. and over the palm trees' silhouette standing against the deepening night sky, the moon captured the sun's light, silver infused with the gold of a sinking sun.

happy.
more simple (potentially frivolous) things that make me happy:

• the way a newborn baby's stomach rises and falls as he breathes
• british accents, especially glottal stops and crisp t's
• periwinkle blue moths fluttering
  
• unexpected color combinations
• ice cream sandwiches from diddy riese followed by a burrito from tito's tacos
• cardigan sweaters with big buttons
• brie's black look

to be continued...

struggle.
it has been a dark few months. dark with flashes of light. because god is good and because no matter how dark things get—and they have gotten rather dark at moments—i can’t help seeing some of the beauties and graces god gives me regularly. but i have been turning away from those moments, back into a landscape of despair and discouragement and self-disgust. i have struggled to do anything worth while. i have woken almost every morning wondering what it is i live for, what reason i have to do what i have to do. if i didn’t have unavoidable obligations, i don’t honestly know where i would be right now. the impulse to run, to hide, to avoid everything, to just go away has been strong. and i have done so in some ways. i have turned my back on so many things that i treasure. on myself and the gifts i have always loved. on my friends and family on occasion. on my education and my goals. on my understanding of the gospel and my relationship with god. faced by the pain that i had come to associate with these things, i simply turned away.

last week i broke. after saying the same things over and over for months, after having lambasted myself as lazy for not changing when i knew what i needed to change, after having felt anger and hatred for myself for not having the strength to take the simple actions i needed to take in order to help myself, i finally realized that i could not do this. this wasn’t a new realization. i’ve been realizing exactly that for a long time. but i have always rejected it. i’ve always adamantly insisted that if only i would get up earlier or work harder or eat better or some combination of the three or any number of other practical solutions, then i would feel better and i would be able to move on. but last week i came face to face with the realization that i. can. not. help. myself.

it was a strange moment. full of grief. and full of grace. it left me weeping at my own inadequacy—past and present. but it also left me turning to god. so bereft of any hope that i could save myself that i was forced to turn to him and put myself into his hands. i had been so full of despair and afraid of life that day that i didn’t even trust myself to do that little—to actually say to god, “i trust thee. please help.” so i sought help in taking even that small step by going to talk to an ecclesiastical leader who is also an old friend.

as we talked and as we turned to the scriptures for insight and guidance, a beautiful thing happened. he kept turning to passages that spoke to me. that summoned up some principle or truth that has long been dear to me, that i have studied. and i felt the threads of my life twine and knit together. abstract lines of thought and study became urgently real in my moment of need. i left that night trusting god as i never have before. since then, my soul has known peace.

i know that things will not be simple. i know that i will still struggle, that i will still have some of the same problems i have had for the last two or three years. but i also know that i now have hope. that life looks beautiful again. that i see opportunities. that i recognize gifts. that i love myself again. and with that knowledge and that outlook—with god’s assurance and care—i can face the struggle.