Fear Is In The Eye Of The Beholder...From The Pages Of An Insomniac

My one and only picture of lightning, captured in Wyoming

This morning I had the unique experience of leveling with one of my greatest fears--not just facing it but holding it in my hand, at eye level, and letting it speak for itself for the first time. I discovered that fear is not all it's cracked up to be, and, not to go over the edge with this but--I also discovered that a lot of barriers can be dropped, a lot of new worlds opened up, and a lot of inner turmoil can be cleared when we let go of fear.

Half Dome, Yosemite Park with my brother

When I was younger I was afraid of several things, the main fears being spiders, heights, lightning, and the dark. As I grew older the fear of heights went away and I was able to sit on the ledges of mountains with my dad, an incredible joy I would never have known otherwise. The fear of the dark faded and I could go star gazing with my brother and family, another piece of natural wonder that fear would have stolen from me. That left me with two. The lightning one, however irrational, is still with me. In my love of photography I wanted desperately to capture a picture of lightning once and drove out into the hills on my cousins' ranch for that purpose. I was so overcome with paralyzing fear halfway through that I got part of a good shot and then flew like a bat out of hell home on the four-wheeler, a cloud of dust marking my way from a mile off. I know lightning isn't going to chase me down. I know I'm more likely to get hit by a fallen plane part then to be struck by it...and yet the fear remains, limiting my ability to enjoy a thunderstorm or dance in the rain as I've seen others do.

One of my lady bug shots from a later shoot

Insects, bugs, and other multi-limbed creatures are by far my favorite things to photograph. This kind of odd hobby came about Freshmen year of college when a ladybug snuck into my room and for the first time in my life, through the lens of a zoomed-in digital, I was able to see the jointed legs, the branch-like feet, the ribbed belly, the filmy laced wings, and even the tiny mouth of a creature that I'd always just thought of as "round" and "spotted." Details that I never knew existed proved to me again that this is a fantastic world we live in and there is artistry in the hand of every living thing, big or small. Since then I have taken every opportunity to get close to the creepy crawlies, including beetles, praying mantis, katydids, wasps, grasshoppers, and moths. But, like lightning, the one thing I could not photograph was my old nemesis, the spider.

My cousins on the ranch probably still laugh about the time I almost had a mental breakdown when a big hairy spider came around the toilet in the bathroom and all I had to kill it with was a piece of 2x4. (My cousin eventually squished it for me, as I lashed at the floor in a million directions and the spider just sat and watched me--mocked me--until I was almost in tears). Last year my fear changed somewhat: the house I lived in at college had a lot of crawling visitors including several species of spiders, and because of how numerous they were I eventually stopped screamed bloody murder at the sight of a hobo or a brown recluse. It was an easy and automatic process to find a shoe, take aim, and scrape the guts off on the sidewalk outside afterwards. There was even a fuzzy outdoor spider that made his nest above our front door, and as he earned his keep by eating all the bugs drawn by the glow of our porch-light I developed a kind of respect for him, and we lived in harmony.

Still I longed to capture a spider with my camera, and until this morning I never thought I would. The difference between the hobo that crawled underneath my door in the early hours today and the dozens of hobos I've destroyed in the past is simple: luck. The spider was lucky that when I found him that I was too tired to lunge for a shoe right away, and I was lucky that the spider chose to run into the little plastic bag I was prodding him out of a corner with instead of around it where I would be forced out of fear to crush the life out of it. I realized what had happened first and quickly taped the bag closed while the spider searched its surroundings, wondering what the dickens was going on.

For about an hour (my camera had to charge its batteries) the spider and I had a staring contest. Inch by inch I got closer to it, reminding myself that it couldn't escape and it wouldn't attack me. At last I could see the shape of its mouth, the stripes on its back, the hairs running along its body. At last I could look it in its eyes and realize that it was something beautiful, just like the ledge of a mountain or the sky at night. As I spent more time with it I came to respect it more, and when I let it go outside some distance from the dormitory I felt like some weight had been lifted from me.

Of course, this post is about more than spiders and photography. As I faced my fear tonight I thought of other fears I still have, that most of us have, as human beings making our way blindly through life. Fears of offending others, fears of acceptance, fears of failure or tragedy or death. I thought of how terrified I am to be a leader and how that has affected my ability to keep the food bank club running smoothly. I thought of how terrified I've been lately of my own heart and how it has kept me from focusing on the real issues at hand. Most of all, I thought of the future. I worry all the time about what I'll become and who I'll be this time next year, and as a mother, and as a grandmother, and when I die what will be said at my funeral. Why? What good is there in always looking forward or backward when all the time life is being lived right now?

There is a zen saying--"The only real moment is this moment." I wish that I could live in this moment more, realize that there is so much more out there than what's in here. This is my message for the week for those of you who read this, and I hope that you get the chance someday to stare your fear in the face and free yourself of it. You'd be amazed at the changes it brings

My friend, the spider (saved it for last so it wouldn't freak everyone out right away =P)

Crisis of Faith Part 2--What I Believe

"I think I might become a Buddhist," I told a fellow student in the twilight hours of campus yesterday. They were not totally surprised, since I'd been talking about my Zen class non-stop for the last twenty minutes, but I was surprised at myself as the words cut across the night air. It's only been a week since I've landed back in Caldwell and begun taking this Zen class, and yet everything we've discussed so far has had a direct and profound application to my life, right here and right now. Having had a similar experience over a year ago with the Buddhism beginners class I knew that this would be something I'd enjoy learning and studying again. Eventually my peer said goodnight and parted with these valuable words:

"Of course, you can do what you want. But don't just jump into something because it feels right in this moment. No one's going to agree to everything a religion has to offer, and maybe at the end of the semester, when you're no longer taking this course, your mind will change. Take time to think about what it is you believe, and then decide what church to follow. "

What it is you believe...

So what DO I believe? I ask myself in the dawning Sunday hours, having pulled another all-nighter with an over-active brain and a list of things to do by Monday. After a lot of thought, this is what I've come up with:

1. I believe that faith is about trust. You trust in something larger than yourself and you trust that that larger thing is not going to turn its back on you when you need it most. Whether or not that "larger thing" is God, a different deity, fate, the spaghetti monster, aliens, science or the stars is up to you. But when you trust in that thing you give it part of yourself and make yourself vulnerable to the possibility of doubt or failure. You have to hold to that trust to make you stronger as you live day to day. Let go and you lose yourself. That is kind of a scary thing, but a wonderful thing.

2. I believe that "church" does not begin with a building and a group of people. It begins with yourself. What you learn or take away from church starts with your own attitude and how willing you are to see things a different way, discover something you didn't know, and be open-hearted to the little whisperings of "this is true" or "this is right." If you decide to attend a church regularly do it for yourself and for your own desire to find truth, not because you are scared of hellfire or want to be social or feel pressured by family and friends.

3. "Gospel" and man's "law" are two different things. I have seen way too many good people be burned by the idea that they --must-- live a certain rule because the social pressure at church tells them so. Friends of mine have been told they are going to hell because they had one beer, or because they have tattoos, or because they work on Sundays and consequently they become consumed with guilt, anger, or isolating hopelessness; often leaving church for good. What bothers me about the "good" church-goers who take it upon themselves to "out" people in this way is that they are missing the entire point of having rules on conduct or consumption. Church leaders ask their members to abstain from certain things or pay particular devotion to certain things not because that's the black and white of it and they'll go to hell if they don't, but because somewhere in the gospel there is a higher law that, if followed, can improve your life and bless you as you continue to learn and grow.

Making mistakes does not make you hopeless and should never outcast you from your religion. It is difficult to ever learn the value of a rule if you never break it. In the example of the beer, many religions advise against drinking in excess because they recognize the harm that alcoholism can cause, and then Man took it to a higher level and said that NO alcohol should be consumed, to avoid the possibility of problems altogether. The higher law for working on Sundays dates back to Biblical times when that day was set aside to be reminded of one's faith and relationship to God, and so work was discouraged to eliminate the things that could distract from such worship. Man then took it one step forward and now many members look down on those who work on Sunday, or snub them in their social groups, or gossip about them behind their backs. Is this what God intended? I think not. The things that bother me the most about organized religions don't stem from the gospels, but from the people.

4. No one is perfect. We weren't created to be and we never can be in this life. It can be discouraging sometimes to think you are the only one who has made dumb mistakes, or had a shred of doubt about your faith. If I've learned anything in my three years of wandering it's that even the people I most admire for their steadfastness in their religion have made mistakes and learned and come back from them again, making them ideal teachers for others walking the same rough roads. I wish that every religious meeting was full of people who would be honest about their mistakes--and expel forever this idea that someone is "better" than someone else because they have not erred in the same way.

5. Repentance, or the idea of righting your wrongs and growing as an individual is a daily, deeply personal process, and it shouldn't be viewed as a checklist. One thing that appeals to me in Buddhism is the idea of karma, or the natural cause and effect cycle brought on by your actions. When you make poor judgments or act in a way that hurts others, you create negative karma and it returns to you in some form, whether in this life or another. When it comes back to you, you have the chance to response with more negativity or in a gracious, positive way, gaining good karma. In this way every day is an opportunity to better yourself, to embrace whatever life throws at you and to not sink in despair every time you make a poor judgment. It is daily living with hope. And hope is something I desperately love.

6. I'll just share one more. The idea of the afterlife. I don't totally subscribe to any of the ideas I've studied or heard before. Instead my view is simple--when we die, we are placed somewhere we will feel the most at ease, be able to fill the greatest amount of need, and ultimately, exist in a place where we can be happy. This idea includes being surrounded by those you knew and had connections with in this life, such as family, friends, peers, teachers, and coworkers. I don't believe that we are separated from these connections at death.

This is what I believe. It may not match what you believe (and isn't that a wonderful thing?) and it is in a constant state of change, just as everything that makes us who we are is constantly changing.

Suicide Prevention Awareness Day

 

I had two plans. One came to me as I was riding my bicycle over the bridge to get to the downtown Wendy's. Something about a thirty foot drop and the train tracks down below appealed to my poetic side--like the first flickering black and white dramas. The roaring train and the struggling heroin on the ties. The other plan was a little less morbid, and involved staring contests with a bottle of pain killers that always ended with the bottle looking away first, and me deciding to postpone my assault for another day.

These were my solutions to a chain of problems that felt so large, so big and dark and overwhelming, that I could see no other escape. It was Freshmen year at college and I had hit my hardest wall, and in the longest moment of those darkest days I concocted schemes that would end my life and end all the confusion forever.

Lucky for me, I never got the chance to try. In droves and pairs a network of support came to my rescue, including family, friends, peers and teachers, and not least of all my counselor--angels on earth. I worked through most of the problems and learned to see light where there was only darkness, and am happy to say I don't concoct schemes for my own destruction anymore. That is my happy ending, but I know that for an estimated 3,000 a day the ending is different.

World Suicide Prevention Day is something I just barely discovered. It is an international day sponsored by the World Health Organization and observed in countries around the world in various ways. According to the internet it's been around for over a decade, but I'd never heard of it until a friend posted on Facebook about it and asked us all to wear yellow or write the word "Love" on our wrists. I did so, and then immediately went to the web to find out more.

For me personally, in my little corner of Idaho, I'd like to commemorate WSPD by spending the day thinking of the people I know, old and young, family and friend and acquaintance, who have attempted, concocted, or succeeded in their own tragic plans during their darkest day. The threat of depression and suicide has played a very large role in my life the last three years, and it deserves our attention, our respect, and our thoughts. To all of the families who have suffered from the effects of suicide or suicide attempt and to all of you out there in a dark place today I offer my love and a few messages that helped me get out of depression and back into a sense of self:

You are not alone. No matter how lonely it gets there is --always-- the option to talk to someone. I believe in counselors and encourage visiting with them. I believe in teachers, neighbors, and coworkers who can surprise you with how much wisdom they have to give and how much love they can offer. I also believe that whether you are religious or not, when you offer your voice to one God or many, to the trees or sky or the universe in general, there is someone listening. Once you allow yourself to talk you allow light to come back into your life.

"It doesn't matter how long we may have been stuck in a sense of our limitations. If we go into a darkened room and turn on the light, it doesn't matter if the room has been dark for a day, a week, or ten thousand years - we turn on the light and it is illuminated. Once we control our capacity for love and happiness, the light has been turned on.”-- Sharon Salzberg

I want to share another blog I thought was pretty cool today: http://thebloggess.com/2012/09/today-and-forever/

Finally, a song by Shinedown helped get me through a lot lately and continues to help me today: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-jzeZbS4sQ

Be good to yourselves <3

The Things I Learned From Food Service (And Other Jobs)Part 3

 The series continues with some highlights from my latest summer jobs:

15) Chill the F*** Out

This piece of advice, while a little rough, has become my mantra over the last year and a half. My junior year was the most difficult round of college I've had to date, and smack in the middle of all the stress and break-downs and crises a fellow student turned to me one day and gave me this gem: "Robyn, you just need to chill the f*** out."

Life changing. Not even kidding you. "Chilling out" was not really in my vocabulary back then. I tend to overload myself, especially at work, and there are many high-strung moments that I am not proud of that could have easily been solved had I just taken a few breaths, realized it wasn't the end of the world, and gotten back to work with a smile on my face. Case in point: at the beginning of the summer I was having a lot of drama in both my jobs with adjusting to my new coworkers. In my over-eager attempts to prove I was a good worker I focused too much on learning my job correctly and not enough on the environment I was in. As a result I came across as serious, aloof, and even kind of bitchy to my fellow workers as I raced around them, cleaning and laboring and cursing them under my breath when they got in my way. It's no wonder, then, that after a few days at my department store job I was still sitting alone in the break room with no one to talk to. And no wonder that at my fast food job I was having trouble connecting with those around me, the majority of whom liked to joke and have fun and couldn't understand my introverted work ethic.

I wasted a week or more in my "no friend" zone until I finally tried CHILLING OUT--allowing myself the time to relax at work and talk with coworkers, laughing at jokes and even offering some of my own. The transformation was instantaneous, and from that moment on I came to like my coworkers and be liked in return. By the time the summer was over the majority of my coworkers had developed into family; the quirky kind of family every good job breeds when good people spend hours laboring together. I wanted to cry as I hugged them all goodbye come September and it was difficult for me to remember why I ever thought any of them hated me when I started in May. I believe in the power of "chilling out," and knowing how to relax and be yourself at work is the first step to having a great experience there.

16) Socks are serious business

My first department store job taught me a great deal about the way people shop. I had to learn fast that customers come in all kinds and that every product, no matter how silly, has a customer somewhere in the world who would love to rip it off the shelves. There is something ego boosting about finding exactly what you want, claiming victory over it, and getting to take it home with you. Therefore, shopping is no laughing matter.

While I was sorting neckties in the men's section at Ross an older man approached me with his wife and asked if there were any knee-length dress socks in stock. I walked with him to the back wall where all the men's socks hung and helped him look, knowing in my heart that I knew next to nothing about socks and assuming (wrongly) that this wouldn't be a problem. The next ten minutes went something like this: I would point out a package of socks at random that seemed fairly knee-lengthy, the older man would shake his head gravely, and his wife would tsk in the background. Point. Shake. Tsk. Point. Shake. TSK. After a while the couple's agitation grew until the man finally burst: "Don't you know ANYTHING about socks?"

I felt like I'd been slapped. Was he serious? Was it a crime to not know anything about men's socks? How would HE like it if I asked him about women's hosiery? Briefly I considered being a smart alec and replying with: "Why yes, I actually graduated with a Masters in Men's Socks at college last spring--let me direct you to my professor and he can answer all your questions." Instead, I admitted that I didn't know much and offered to find him my manager. The man replied, a little snarkily, that he would just take his business elsewhere, and he and his wife marched through the automatic doors with a whoosh.

This experience taught me something about serious shoppers--they don't like being taken lightly. From that day on I treated any customer, whether it be the woman who destroyed nearly every package of men's briefs looking for the right size for her teenage son, or the children who trashed the backpack aisles scrounging for the bag that would define them at school, or the frazzled lady hunting down giant welded lawn ornaments, with respect and dignity. No matter how much I wanted to shake them.

17) A customer's reality IS reality

It doesn't matter what your intentions are; if a customer's perception about something you do is bad then their overall experience is tainted, no matter how good the food or service was before the "incident." I've been in food business long enough to know that you shouldn't clean up a customer's table as they are getting up to leave. This can be perceived in several negative ways--if you're a waitress and waiting on a tip, they may feel akin to roadkill being circled by a vulture who couldn't wait to swoop in and take their meat. If you are just bussing the table they can feel irritated that you are in their way, or put-out that you treat them like another dirty table, or, for a few, guilty about the mess they are leaving behind that you've made them extra-aware of. You wait until they're gone, or offer to take their plates or trays as they empty during the meal.

Customers have a couple of quirks like this. You don't hand out a drink with the straw partially or fully unwrapped, or they will think you took a sip of it first. You don't ever tell a customer their total is "six six six" when it comes to $6.66. Most people associate this number with evil, and will subtract or add something from their order to change the total. (I always say: "Six dollars and sixty six cents.") Don't ever take a customer's plate of food or cup to the kitchen if they ask for a refill or a change on the order. Bring them a fresh plate or cup, or they will suspect that you did something to their food while it was out of sight.

Be aware of what your customers are perceiving and take it seriously. They'll appreciate it.

18) Make sure the window is closed

There are few moments more embarrassing than when I forgot to close the drive-thru window and said something stupid within a customer's earshot!

19) Don't swear in front of customers. (Don't break into song either, unless you are prepared for weird looks)

20) No one walks alone

I am a firm believer in the buddy system. If one of your fellow coworkers gets off the clock at the same time as you and you know they don't have a ride, especially at night, don't let them walk alone. Give them a lift, and don't be afraid to ask for one if you need it.

21) Flirting

Every food service job I've had, without exception, has included some form of flirting. Whether it's coming from customers or coworkers, serious or joking, it is something you'll have to deal with. At Taco Bell the majority of what could be perceived as "flirting" came in the form of harmless pranks--filling each other's pockets with sauce packets or ice cubes, food fights, water fights, rearranging one another's station, etc. But a few of my coworkers ran into what we call "creeper flirting," which included stalking, cat-calling, asking for a phone number "for a friend," asking for favors, asking for hugs, and even sneaking a quick picture from a cell phone.

Be aware of this kind of stuff. Use the buddy system, tell the manager if you're getting a really creepy vibe, and don't be afraid to report someone who won't quit. Safety in numbers!!

Until next time--to be continued...

Hypo-Critical Thinking

Mankind has been, and always will be, a species of hypocrites.

Of all God's creatures we alone are the ones who make promises we can't keep, communicate things we don't mean, and rebel so fiercely against the very values we pursue all our lives.

I am no exception--this last week I experienced perhaps the hardest hypocritical tug of war of them all...the hypocrisy of the heart.

It's difficult to say exactly when and with whom the heart decides to play tricks on. My heart will decide daily to never hurt a loved one again, and then turn around and do exactly that by sunset. This last week I made a very interesting (and very dorky...excuse my inner nerd for a moment) revelation--and it was while I was watching a Starbursts commercial. The latest ad campaign of the chewy candy features an Asian man wearing a kilt chiming: "it's a juicy contradiction!" As my television program ended I kept thinking about contradictions (juicy or not) and how they seem to follow me in life. Here are a few:

I am a girl who needs others. I need to feel important and loved, like if I were to disappear, it might leave a small hole somewhere. I advise all my friends to "talk it out" when they are feeling alone and to always remember that there is help available.Yet when I am the most upset and desperately searching for someone to talk to, I will close up shop and camp out in my room, alone, wondering why I'm not important.

I am a girl who was blessed to be born into a family truly exceptional. Each and every one of my siblings, my mom and dad, my cousins and relatives and grandparents and great-grandparents are all people who lead or have led lives of service, love, and hard work. They are all people who have taught me something vital about character and about growing up, and they all accept me unconditionally. I know this, and have known it all along. Yet more often than not I find myself saying I'll visit more and then don't...saying I'll write more and forgetting...making the people that should be my first priority...somehow the last.

Finally, I am a girl who learns things the hardest way. I may promise to never make the same mistake, but I know by now that these promises are as thin as tissue paper. This last week showed me very clearly that I can make the exact same mistake multiple times, still hurting the same people, and that it takes something very large and very traumatic for me to finally get on the right track.

What is this tendency for contradiction? Why is it seemingly built-in to the very code of human DNA? (Or, at least MY DNA). I am beginning to understand that the duality of existence--what is said and what is done, what is thought and what is reality--is key to being able to have free choice. If I didn't discover the consequences of living in contradictions...I wouldn't understand the importance of living honestly. Making choices and sticking to them. Accepting truth as it is.

Whatever contradictions you have going on in your life now--embrace the lessons you learn from them. They just might make you stronger.

*Image from Google*

To Ease the Strain

Hell was breaking loose.

I'd just started my second job for the summer and it was not panning out the way I'd hoped. I was hitting 60 hours a week, I had difficulties connecting with a lot of my new coworkers, and every one of my paychecks so far had gone immediately to bills. I was starting to stress out about money, about transportation (I was borrowing my brother's car until my parents and I could find one for me) and, for a while, about my relationship. It felt strange to be living in the basement of parents who weren't my own and stranger to share a living space with my husband when we were so used to long distance. It didn't help that both Tim and I had busy work schedules and very little time to spend one-on-one.

And then came the day when everything seemed to crash down on me at once. Work was overwhelming, customers had been horrible and I just wanted to go home and take the longest shower on earth. When I opened the bedroom door I did a double-take. The room was CLEAN. The bed was MADE. All of our dirty clothes were dried and folded and, in the bathroom attached to my name-tag, was a sweet note Tim had written me before he'd gone to work that afternoon.

The tears began to fall.  I'd rarely understood it before--why it meant so much to my parents when someone else took a turn with dinner or washing dishes. Why sharing the load mattered. I flashed back to our wedding day, when Tim held my hand so tightly as everything inside me was flying in a thousand directions. It's what he does best. It's what love is all about: easing the strain.

For life is full of strain--especially with age. When you're young everything seems to be about YOU. Your concerns are with your social life, your grades, and finding out what "you" even means. As you get older everything expands: finances, health, insurance, maintaining a home, family, relationships, children, staying connected to friends, school, career, and on and on...Most of us feel that strain on a daily basis, a little at a time. But sometimes we feel the limits of it and we want to break--and that's when we notice and appreciate most those that help to ease it.

For me it's my husband and his little notes, the little girl in the drive-thru who told me I was pretty on a day I had no make-up and felt hideous, a good friend telling me she looks up to me, my manager letting me know I'm doing an ok job, my parents and all that they do for me, and the countless other interactions, big or small, thought-out or not, that have made my life as blessed and as easy to bear as it's been lately.

Thank you all for the little moments you've given me, and may each of you have a moment of eased strain this week, whether you are the one giving it or receiving!!! <3

Second Thoughts

It's been about a month since I last wrote, and as I scan through some of the old posts it's become

evident to me the internal flaw of keeping a blog: there is no room for second thoughts. Once the writing juices are flowing and I've latched on to a topic I will type everything out in an hour or two, hit "Publish," and then wince later when I see all the typos, the errors in judgment, and the changes of ideology I've had in the time since those words became frozen onto the Internet. I could go back and try to "fix" the posts with correct spelling, better grammar and my updated opinions, but that would be as fruitless as trying to "fix" the past. Each post is still a window of time, no matter how much in error, when something needed to be said and I said it. I can't take it back now. 

But I CAN have second thoughts, and some of those I will write out here, in this window of time.

Two months ago I wrote a post entitled "God is a troll--or a crisis of faith." As it was a controversial topic and an uncomfortable one for many of my friends and family, I wasn't expecting much of a response. To my surprise that post received a record 91 views--more than any blog post I've ever written!! My "wall" and inbox on Facebook became flooded with the opinions, support, and arguments from those I knew and loved. My faith (or lack thereof) had become a topic of interest, and while I had "asked" for it, I hadn't anticipated that much...well...interest.

In the time since a few things have changed. My "records," or official membership information in the church, has moved from the ward in Caldwell back to Idaho Falls, where I am staying for the summer with my in-laws. My husband's records were also transferred to the same ward when he moved, but to date, neither of us have made it to church yet. I can blame it on the job hunting, or blame it on the time (nine in the morning!), but what it really comes down to is--I'm not sure I'm ready yet. I have not read any scriptures, said a serious prayer (asking God to please make karma bite trouble customers at Taco Bell in the butt doesn't count), or attended a church meeting in months.

Yet the feeling of an unfilled gap remains...and every once in a while I get very motivated to start trying to strengthen my faith again. After a conversation with someone near and dear to me, I was asked if I even had a testimony anymore. It made me incredibly angry, until I realized that the question was totally justified. It certainly didn't --look-- like I had one. I wasn't walking the walk or talking the talk anymore. This was one time when I wanted to resolve to get "active" again. A few weeks later a medical change in my life made it so I am not allowed to drink coffee or caffeinated drinks anymore, which felt like another sign that got me pretty motivated. A few weeks after that my dad was called to be the Bishop in my home ward and I wasn't able to be there supporting him. That was a big one. And made harder because I see that there is an entire network of people that I love very much that I feel like I can't quite connect with anymore because I am Here, in the grey, and they are There, at church, where they've always been.

Then there are times when the motivation dies again. I hear about some missionaries telling a friend she's going to hell because she smokes. I hear about members gossiping and back-stabbing, feelings getting hurt again, and I have to remind myself that people are people no matter what their faith is. These unfortunate events will happen in any faith, anywhere. But it seems to hit hardest with mine.

So I wanted to say--I AM trying, and there are days with breakthroughs and there are setbacks. But I haven't given up yet. I'm going to figure out this crisis one way or another.

All of that being said, I also wanted to apologize. To You, the reader. A lot of the time I think I just vent or rant about my own personal problems when I know that they are much smaller than what many of you struggle with. I've realized that everyone has trials, and none of us can really say that ours are any easier or worse than anyone else's. So forgive me for the times when I am a little self-absorbed, and I will try my best to focus more on others in my posts and in my outlook.

Other Second Thoughts lately: I've decided World of Warcraft is not as heineous as I argued earlier. My husband has slowly been drawing me into it, having me fulfill requests and chattering excitedly about this or that achievement he got. To see his face light up with excitement like that, and to watch the good  developments of playing--spending time with friends, having a sense of self-worth boosted, etc--I can't bring myself to hate it anymore. As with most things, it is good in moderation.

Also, with the "Beauty is..." post, I forgot to talk about some of the good things the media has done for women. Tyra Banks tries to jump-start the careers of models who don't meet regular "standards" of beauty--girls who are heavy, girls who are short, girls with unconventional faces--and I think that's awesome. There are also several shows and magazines that highlight women who serve others and make a difference including mothers, survivors, fighters, and winners that are truly beautiful inside and out and act as good role models for girls everywhere. Shame on me, the Journalism minor, for forgetting to put the element of "balance" in my argument!!

Until next time, keep your heart open, have a good week, and don't be afraid to have second thoughts <3