2013, Year of Cupid's Arrow

There comes a certain point in everyone's life when they look down at their glass of water, then stop mid drink, take a look around them, and have an epiphany, "There's something in this drinking water." I had this realization at about 7:52am this morning while standing at the sink in my pajamas. I spit out my water and quickly switched to coffee with this daunting thought in mind, "Kearney water, or maybe just Nebraska water, makes everyone fall in love and get engaged." Then, I looked at my City of Kearney bill sitting on the table, realizing the due date is drawing near, and see it yelling back at me, "You owe $72 dollars!" How dare you Kearney, make me drink your water and then charge me to potentially get engaged.

Okay so maybe that theory is a bit far fetched? But it's obvious that 2013 is the year of engagement and even weddings for that matter, or at least it is on Facebook terms. Beautiful rings and smiles, cupid hearts, flowers, skittle rainbows, bubbly wine glasses, unicorns, life events revealed on Facebook statuses, butterfly tummies, chocolate strawberries, high pitched giggles, sparkles and glitter, (I'm getting carried away aren't I?) Well, to say the least, people are in love around here. I just witnessed Bernard the squirrel pull out a ring while gracefully dancing among the branches outside my window this morning. Pretty cool seeing a squirrel get on his knee. He told Esther he would give her all the acorns in the world. What female squirrel could pass up that offer? Naturally she said yes.

Now I realize this story is written by a woman who has not been in a relationship since the school musical in high school, (even then, it was still just acting), so one may think this view is rather biased and all this sarcasm is just a way to disguise bitterness at the core. Well, good assumption naturally, but no. I just like to write stories. And this story has been waiting to be told. There is just so much love and romance in the air, so I had to address it. Now that I think about it, maybe there's a conspiracy theory the government is scheming. Could it be? Could all of you lovers really be secret agents in some sort of Engagement Conspiracy. You tricksters. Caught ya!

Since I was born in the year of the Dragon, the Chinese proverb states, "You prefer to be alone." (Which is ironically quite true most days). Thanks a lot mom and dad. And also, since Joan of Arc is my patron saint, that makes me a fighting single white female. You go girl. Oh sarcasm, how I love to insert you randomly. Anyway, if it isn't obvious already, I will not be joining all you lovers out there on your walk down Cupid Shuffle Road any time soon, but wanted to congratulate all my engaged friends, two who just happen to be my roommates, and do so in my own quirky way. I wish you all the best!

To the rest of you who find yourselves in the single status, remember this story next time you take a drink of water...

My Talk With God in the Mirror

I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, and saw the blemishes. They had come to visit like a thief in the night, stealing my pores and making it known that they found a home for a few days, a home that was really never meant to be theirs. I splashed my face with cold-water letting the water run down my chin; secretly hoping the uninvited guests would disappear with each drop. But even now, I know they will always show up at this time of the month. Then as I rub my eyes I notice they look a little greener, gradually slimming to brown right around the pupils. Today my face looks older; the bags under my eyes are more evident. Of course I've had my share of sleepless nights worrying, and those times of burying my head in the pillow so only the fabric and I knew I actually had tears to cry, otherwise it seems they only come out during funerals or when I have had too much poison in my belly. Well, and in the shower on occasion, I'm a woman. Today I look down at my hands as I put toothpaste on my toothbrush, my beautiful hands. They have been with me through so much, carrying the reins of many horse rides, shooting hundreds of thousands of basketballs, writing so many words, embracing countless hugs, touching ocean waves and city walls, turning pages of books to flood my mind with knowledge, and helping me carry the world with me wherever I travel. Because of them I have memories. My hands I have to thank for much of my success.

How many days have my hands tried to help cover these blemishes on my face, and accent the greenish brown colors in my eyes? How many times must I look in the mirror before I discover, my face is only my face and my hands are only my hands? My hands have been my greatest servants, and yet they can be so useless at times, those times I never seem to improve much. Those times when they shouldn't have shoveled another bite in my mouth, or brought another bottle to my lips. Those times when I have allowed fingers to intertwine with mine as though somehow that will cure the loneliness. In the end I know my hands are only trying to help, but they get in the way. I have become too familiar with them and what they can do for me and I forget about something that isn't tangible, something that is far from what my hands can grasp. My soul. Now, that is a thing that can be hard to get in touch with these days eh? After all, we cannot see our soul in the mirror every day, and I find it hard to tell my soul to fetch me a glass of water. However, behind every action my hands commit, lies the inner voice of my soul, either agreeing or disagreeing with the movements. It's not that we can't hear it because the voice is too quiet, no; the world has just become too loud.

I look in the mirror today and notice my hair has not met a pair of scissors in over a year and a half. Yes, this sight is frightening to any hairdresser but this stirs within my rattling brain a thought. What if our souls were worn on the outside, how frightened would we all be? What if others could see my soul the way they see my hair? What if those blemishes on my face could also be found in my soul? I imagine them to be dark shadowy places, with webs and dusty shelves above empty chairs; places we wouldn't dare let a visitor rest their head, not even with a flashlight in hand. So I look at my greenish eyes in the mirror and say, "Why not clean up the corners of my soul, the places I don't dare set foot because of my own insecurities and fears?" If I can wash my face every day, and spend money dressing up a body I have become all too familiar with, I think maybe, just maybe, I can give some more attention to my soul.

So I stared deep into those eyes this morning and said, "Body, I have experienced much with you. Itches, bruises, and scrapes, stomach growls, lovers' hands, wonderful food as it touched your toungue and drinks I cannot even name. I have experienced with you much pain from injuries and some pain from stupidity. Body, you have been with me through it all but too many times I have allowed you to be in control. You are greedy, lustful, lethargic if I allow it, you cry out to me for pain relief when you ache, you beg me to press the snooze button too many times, you tell me to give up when I am making your feet go faster than you'd like. You body, although I'd like to thank, I must also inform you, that it is time for discipline. Yes, I've tried before and failed, but my soul is strong you see. It doesn't quit. Souls these days are too submissive, letting the outer self control what lies within. I cannot let you, body, and let you take control of the part of me that will always live. In case you didn't know, one day you will be no more. Those dollar bills you keep in the bank won't matter, grocery store trips to feed your belly won't matter, the way you look in heels or the way you curl the hair on your delicate head won't matter, and yes, even the way you present yourself to others, well, that won't matter either. Unless...unless the way others perceive you becomes something more. Body, if someone can look into those greenish brown eyes and see my soul shine, then and only then should you be proud of what your hands are doing for you." 

Then I put my toothbrush back in its place and smiled, because it was then that I knew today was going to be a good day. My hands and I were off to do great things, letting my soul lead the way, and somehow my hands were found typing on this keyboard writing this short story. And now my soul has urged me to share it. The whole time I've been writing, my stomach ironically, has been growling for attention, but of course I chuckle silently saying, "Body, this time, your wishes come second." 

Thank you God for that conversation in the mirror this morning.

My Family of Origin

While gathering information about all the events that preceded my birth, and simultaneously going back into the collection of memories I have stored away, entailing any recollection of important events involving all my “loved ones”, I began to see my family as a puzzle. My perspective of this puzzle however, is not one that would be seen mounted neatly on a wall after each piece had found it’s perfect place in the scattered array of carefully carved out cardboard. My family is one that has in fact forced pieces together that maybe were not ever intended to fit. Edges are found next to edges while holes sit beside holes, barely holding them together by a corner. Some pieces were lost and later found while others tried so hard to fit into just the right place. There have been spills, scratches, markings and tears on every piece, some indeed more than others. Taking a long look at this dreadful, yet beautiful masterpiece is an astonishing sight. What I find most incredible is that through all the journeys this puzzle has made, storms it has weathered, lives it has touched, or rather lives that have touched it, each piece still remains intact, letting whatever part of itself reach out and converge the piece closest, as if it is the most natural thing to do. The concurrent fusion and separation cause the whole work of art to combust into a glow. No, my family is not in flames, but within each piece you can see a burning desire. Each desire is slightly different but it is evident each believes in something stronger and more powerful than they can fathom, and thankfully because of this, I have learned through much hardship and much love, the power of a family. And with this flame I feel so fervently burning within me, I plan to become more than just a spark, to eventually, as Great Grandma Lu said it, "set the world on fire".

Set the World On Fire

I recently returned from Utah, where I attended the funeral of my Great Grandfather in Layton. He was 95 years old and had been married to my Great Grandmother just over 74 years. I remember four years ago when they were interviewed and an article was published about them on their 70th anniversary it hit me that I was a lucky kid to be able to say I knew both of my Great Grandparents and the admirable accomplishment they had achieved. http://www.icatholic.org/article/couple-says-love-has-kept-them-together-70-years-5672428 The last three years I have been able to make a trip out to see them every spring, and get to know them as an adult; I hadn't seen them much since I was young due to activities in school and the busy life of a student athlete. I decided for Spring Break my senior year I wanted to go out and visit them. As a kid you have it set in your mind that people will live forever but I had finally realized differently after experiencing death on my father's side of the family. "Nobody lives forever and dying is inevitable", as Great Grandma told me the night before the funeral.

 Something she also told me, which is what sparked me to write in the first place was this; "I've known your Grandpa since high school. I was going to go to college and set the world on fire, but then I met him and everything changed. But you know, I think I did set the world on fire..him and I did...look at all of you...we did that." I looked around me just then, and realized what two people had done. Two people had created five children, eighteen grandchildren and forty-three great grandchildren. And more importantly they had filled us all with their love. If that's not setting the world on fire I'm not sure what is.

 This got me thinking on the eleven and a half hours I spent on the road home about what it truly means to set the world on fire. We all have these ideas in our heads about the great things we will accomplish as individuals, totally unaware that those things may not be what God has planned for us. I believe God places within each and every one of our souls a spark. It us up to us to control the flame. I think each of us has had events occur in our lives that have not gone how we planned, as with the case of my Great Grandmother, marrying my Great Grandfather. But we never see the big picture until later. Isn't their beauty in hindsight? So many times, when things don't go our way we tend to view them as bad, or disappointing, thinking of how it could be or should be. When we let the world weigh on us this way our flame cannot grow, it will have the opposite effect and they will be put out by the stresses of daily living.

 You know those people you meet that are just enthusiastic about life? The ones who when you look into their eyes you can feel the love pouring out of them, or when you speak to them they attend to you like you are the only person in the world at that moment. The people who remain so positive in every situation you start to wonder if anything could bring them down. Those are the people whom I believe are setting the world on fire and those are the people I admire most. I believe those are also the people who have seen some serious trials in their life. A spark cannot be ignited without friction. Trials are essential. If we are to set the world on fire we must know what it is like to step into the flame. The problem is most of us are content standing outside the fire, afraid of being burnt. But the challenge we face is not the fire itself but the truth found at the center of its flames. The truth is fire. God does not place the spark within us to make us comfortable. What person can say that they are comfortable amidst a fire aside from roasting marshmallows at a reasonable distance?

 He places in us a living fire of love. It burns if we allow it. It is not a destructive fire, but one that makes things bright and free. Dare to entrust yourself to the fire. Dare to face truth. Too many times we see fire as painful but it actually brings with it a peace. But we only properly comprehend this peace if we do not cheat ourselves out of pain or out of the conflicts that the truth brings with it. If we try to avoid conflict to insure that no disturbances arise anywhere, then we can no longer have an impact. We cannot set the world on fire if we cannot face it ourselves. The message of truth sits within the fire to conflict with our behavior, to tear us away from lies and bring clarity to our lives. Truth does not come cheap. It makes demands, and it also burns.

 I believe my Great Grandparents found this truth. As I was able to visit with them over the last few years they never once told me that their lives were easy. They spoke to me so honest about life, about pain and suffering, but most important of the laughter and joy. They were able to find humor in situations as they retold their past and did not dwell on the things they could not change. They took advantage of their time together and they were able to spread that love to every person in whom they met. Although I did not know my Great Grandfather as well as the rest of my family, my aunt and uncles, mom, their cousins, my grandparents and their siblings, I knew him enough to know he was dancing in the heart of the fire before he passed away. My Great Grandmother, is left to spread the flames of love to those around her until she dances her way to heaven to be greeted by, not only my Great Grandfather, but also the One who ignited the fire in both their souls.

 The both of them have created a great example for me in what it means to set the world on fire. May we all do the world a service and not be afraid to ignite the fire within us and dance within the flames. The first step, dare to face truth.

Burning Snowflake

I inhale it with refreshment and exhale it with satisfaction. I can feel each note as it leaves the intrinsic place where it was first created and so fervently makes its way to my ears. Every note hits me differently; some feel arctic and crisp, like I have just stepped in the midst of a winter storm. My face goes numb from the chill that each note brings as it pierces right to the bone. But only then, when I can feel the cold hit me so suddenly, am I aware that I am, in fact, alive and breathing. Other times, it hits me like the sun, blazing down in rays of heat. Each note melts on my forehead and becomes a part of my being. The warmth I experience has more bubbles than a bottle of champagne could even fathom. In complete soberness music has me under the influence. It's something divine. Like every note, every lyric, were placed in my ear so carefully by the hand of God himself. My favorite notes however, are the kinds that bring with it a sort of revelation. The ones that creep under my skin and suddenly find their way out the tiny hairs on my arms as each hair stands up to applaud the sound my ears have just experienced. The ones that somehow make my jaw muscles loosen and my eye lids seem as though they were meant to close so I can truly see. Music is an encounter that can take me to a place no one else can touch. Only here, in the midst of this array of all emotions, can imagination meet possibility if the mind is open to the wonders they both possess.

Freedom of Expression Shows That We Are Not Free

He was just your average American, looking for a way to make a name, a way to make his voice heard, when so many voices sound the same. But today's average American isn't average can't you see, we are blind if we don't realize average isn't what it used to be. We are told now more than ever, to express our individuality. So express it we do, through art and music, through words, through clothes and tattoos. Listen as YOLO gets thrown around like it's a game, but if we only live once, why do so many live in shame? Don't you get it, "We only live once?" And now 26 people's lives on earth are done, it was through expression they were killed, not with a gun.

Expression was not meant to be bad, no in fact it is good, but there is something wrong with the way have turned into walking puppets made of wood. We have let society attach to us strings of all sorts, and now our expressions are just the media's reports. Look at the television as it tells us what we should be, and by telling us, somehow that's expressing individuality? It throws at us news that is filled with anger and hate, but unless it happens to us directly we can't really relate. Watch as the media promotes a sex driven "party America" that portrays carelessness as okay. But for some reason millions of people are numb as they wake up each day? So we express how we feel on our computers at home, we let the world know when we are feeling alone. Through facebook, through twitter, through innate words in a text, but does this falsity we portray really express?

The answer is no, which is why bad things happen as they do, because no matter how hard we try, everyone just sees right through. Why? Because everyone is so busy expressing their own, they don't take the time to see someone else feels alone. "Look out for number one, Climb to the top of the ladder, Don't quit 'til it's done, Only I matter, It's all about me, What do I want, I want what I see, My life I will flaunt." Do you see that the U in United States is the YOU we express? If we put others first we wouldn't be in this mess.

Don't you see the raging river of evil flowing through this nation? Well people I'm telling you now, yo better grab your flotation. Because there are a lot of bodies just going with the flow, and it takes someone strong to stand up and show, that walking against the current of evil in this land, is the only way we can bring peace back to man. You see, it is the dead souls of today that flow down the river, come alive my friends, let's walk up stream until you see the sliver. The sliver of hope in the sky our Creator lets shine. Grab my hand and let's express something divine. If we must express ourselves let us express love, let us express the one who created us from above.

We shall call out His name as we mourn the children lost, and the wonderful teachers who all paid a cost, by being so brave and acting out of love, let us follow their footsteps as they watch from above. Let us live as those children, innocent and free, and love life just as He meant it to be. Bring God back to a world that is broken, and don't be afraid of His words if they are spoken. Find hope in Him and express your love to one another, grab a strangers hand, we are all sisters and brothers. Take a moment to not be concerned with you; there are so many other people that feel the way you do. Reach out to them, love them, put others in front of yourself, you'll find that helping someone brings the greatest wealth. If we are to express ourselves let it be through kindness and generosity, so we can put an end to all this atrocity. Cut the strings all you puppets, because God is not the one tying you down. He wants you to be free and spread the love all around.

Today you have the power to change a life and save a nation. Spread the love.

Sleepy Sally

It's harvest season. This means two things. 1)I spend the majority of my day driving 2 mph. 2)I get sleepy. Yes, you see, Sleepy Sally visits me almost every day, some days sooner than expected. When she arrives I have to muster up all the energy I can to keep her from taking me down. I’m sure you’ve been a victim of Sleepy Sally yourself. But, before I tell you about her visit, I must fill you in on her history.

“Long ago, Sleepy Sally was created by the sleep gods of our universe, with the intention to help people drift off to a peaceful sleep. She sang all those who welcomed her to sleep with soft lullabies, and made sure they slept through the night. Each person woke up feeling alive and refreshed the next morning. She was confined to the pillows, beds, couches, and reclining chairs of life…until, she became bored and angered. Her every day routine became too monotonous and she realized people were beginning to ignore her presence as the world began to get busier and busier. Because of this people started sleeping less and less. She became jealous and engulfed with rage. She starved for attention, and she was determined to get it back. One day Sleepy Sally sneakily and so cleverly broke out of imprisonment during the daylight hours to visit all of the busy people in the world. From that day on, the world as we know it began to change and today she conquers the vast majority of living humans as they try to accomplish fun, work, and school instead of sleep. Sleepy Sally has earned a bad name in today’s society, because if you fall for her, you will not accomplish anything, or so we’ve been told, so she haunts all who ignore her.”

Well, now that you know her background let me tell you about my last two days with her. There I was in my combine, driving along listening to the radio when all of a sudden I caught myself in a long stare. She snuck in unnoticed but found her way to my eyes as she made them heavy, while suddenly making my cares light. My shoulders drooped and my body felt relaxed. A bit too relaxed. It was 3:00 pm and I was running on five hours of sleep with the intention to work until late into the night. How would I get rid of her? I needed to keep her occupied until I was done working. Red Bull. (Caffeine has become our number one Sleepy Sally killer, but since we are silly humans we can’t really kill her, only keep her away for 5 hours and supposedly bring her enemy, Ernest Energy, to surface.) So the Red Bull gave me wings. Unfortunately it didn’t give my combine wings however, as we were far from flying, still driving 1.8 mph through the golden field. Sleepy Sally had left me, but she was soon to return.

Today, on a better night’s sleep I figured she wouldn’t pay me a visit again. I figured wrong. I blame the radio for her ability to sneak in. The problem with radio stations is they play the same seven songs over and over again and we can’t help but drift off into a trance. At approximately 2:00 pm, Sleepy Sally came out of confinement and snuck into my cab. She decided to take a more enticing approach as she began to whisper sweet nothings in my ear telling me that if I only just closed my eyes, everything would be alright. She’s a temptress, that Sally. I focused hard on the radio but no matter how many times Katy Perry came on the airwaves, I felt far from ‘wide awake.’ I had every note of Usher’s song down so perfectly by the tenth time it was played I really did want to ‘scream’ at the DJ to play a new song. If it would have been possible I might have even called up Maroon 5 and told them to hurry up and come out with a new hit because I could sing their current song backwards, but I guess they must be hard to get a hold of if they are still making calls from a ‘payphone’. So I turned the radio down and listened to the machine instead. Sleepy Sally grabbed hold of me and we met face to face, and then…

Sorry about the inconvenience but its midnight and a very needy, attention starved, tempting feeling has come over me. I will have to finish my story later. Crap. It’s her again. She’s calling me. I can’t ignore her any longer. Goodnight world.