Ah, Those Pesky Reset Buttons

On the Jukebox: "In This Diary" by The Ataris
Quote: "Thank you, Mario. But our princess is in another castle!" ~ Toad, Super Mario Bros
Flair: I heart Yorgle & StrongBad

When I was a girl we did not have air bags, cell phones, or 16 bit graphics. Yes, you read that right; we lived in an 8 bit world where you, the character/avatar, were a blinking cursor and your family phone was probably attached to the wall in the kitchen. Yes, I grew up in the stone age of video games but I'll have you know that our 1981 Atari 2600 was the first on the block so I'm totally cool and know my stuff. I played Pac-Man to the point of infinite lives and flipping the level counter back to zero. I know the secret room in Adventure - probably one of the first Easter Eggs ever. Along with this 8 bit awesomeness came the revolutionary concept of a reset button. As other old school gamers, I discovered the hard way that the reset button restarts the game without saving your progress. It is to be used it with caution - sometimes along with reincarnating you it also brings back dragons.

I bring this up because I have recently hit reset on this blog. If you're glancing back into the archives you won't find many posts from the recent few years although the older ones are there. My progress has not been saved, so to speak. I have no written record to show that I attempted to do anything productive with my life or that my video-ninja skills improved. Trust me they have. I am wicked good at Tetris. I will not play Just Dance so don't ask. I know you just want me to do the Smurf, Running Man, and Butterfly and that is not going to happen!

I ran into my friends Yorgle, Grundle, and Rhindle while preparing to return to this blogging adventure. I thought I had killed those guys and dealt with my issues. Curse you reset button! It turns out that the pesky bat took off with my sword leaving me to review dozens of posts saved to the draft section of my blogs. Not a wise idea. Seriously where's Trogdor when you need him? Anyway, I read some stuff that I can't quite bring myself to delete but also can't bring myself to post here. It was hard and sad and shows that I have come a long way and in other ways am still stuck going around in the same silly maze over and over when the enchanted chalice is in a different castle (probably with Princess Peach.) Be warned - I'm coming for you chalice as soon as I find that bat!

My 2015 Theme

On the Jukebox: "(Just like) Starting Over" by John Lennon

Quote: "Start by doing what is necessary; then do what is possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible." ~ Saint Francis of Assisi

Flair: Sad But True Confession

Happy New Year! Welcome to 2015! It's rather exciting to say 2015 because that's the year that Marty McFly travels to in the future where there are hover boards and huge TV walls. I still think the 90's were ten years ago so I have a problem wrapping my brain around the idea that we've arrived to the "future" of my high school days. Here's another random fact for you: I never have a problem writing the new year in the date. My problem is that around October of the previous year I find myself already thinking it's that upcoming year and then when New Year's Day rolls around I am more likely to write 2016 instead of 2015. I also do that with my birthday - after I pass the half year mark I round up to the next year which means this year I'm 45 right? No, I used a calculator and have confirmed I'm still 43 for the next few days. 

So it's a new year - time to make revisit and reevaluate resolutions, choose new attainable goals and a new theme. Why a theme? Well, why not? Growing up the Young Women's program always had a cool theme, as did Especially For Youth and every youth and Relief Society conference I ever attended. I know that this is not just a Mormon phenomenon because even birthday parties, Kindergarten classrooms, and conventions have a theme. Maybe it's trendy like those silly mission statements that were all the rage 15 years ago. But personally I like having an area of focus.

My 2013 theme was Phoenix Rising because I felt like I had crashed and burned in 2012 and was ready to be reborn from the ashes a stronger, renewed person. 2012 was a hard year for me and I really struggled with balancing my personal life and the needs of my family. I just couldn't find enough motivation to keep going with things I wanted to do even when those things were fulfilling and important. I realize a lot of it had to do with being burnt out because I wasn't taking enough time for myself and also because it's just so hard to change my entire schedule every 40 days to roll along with my spouse's work schedule. I did much better in 2013 even if many of my goals fell by the wayside in the name of sleep and sanity. Upon evaluation, I proclaimed myself stronger if not entirely renewed. Close enough!

My theme in 2014 was Back to My Roots which included me actually refraining from dyeing my hair. I let my natural colors grow in (boring brown with new silver 'Jesus highlights'.) My focus for the year was getting back to the important things but may have neglected a bit too often like exercising, proper nutrition, developing good habits, and teaching my young daughter by my good example that it is fun to eat veggies. I chose 'Roots' because I wanted to focus on my family history and work on my genealogy. Preserving my ancestors' legacy and my own personal stories is something very close to my heart. I want to leave something behind to give my daughter in case I am deprived of the opportunity to tell her myself. I want her to know who she is. I also want to her to know who I am. That's one of the reasons I have my blogs. 

Which brings me to my theme for 2015: Write on! My focus this year, now that my health is steadily improving, is on getting back to writing. I knew from a very early age that I wanted to be a writer when I grew up. I loved storytelling and tolerated journaling. As I matured I discovered that all writers are not created equal, nor are their works. Above all I wanted my writing to be an influence for good - to lift, inspire, and edify. As much as I wanted to be on the NY Best Seller's list for my amazing and original stories, I feel the need to share my own thoughts in this platform too. 

The question is how can I possibly do both without going crazy? I know it's possible because I blogged nearly every day while I was working on the Ethereal Dreamer series. BUT things were much different then. 1) With my husband deployed in the overseas sandbox I was alone with plenty of time to concentrate on writing. 2) I worked when I wanted to and slept when and as long as I wanted to. I usually went to bed around 2 or 3 in the morning and got up around noon. 3) My house stayed unnaturally clean. 4) I didn't have to work outside of the home, cook a lot of food, or have so many obligations. 5) I didn't have my little daughter. 6) I had a very eager fan club spurring me on. 

I don't want to fail at this again but I also don't want to go easy on myself and do only a weekly post. It allows me to justify not exercising discipline. I have spent the past five years changing my schedules every 40 days which allows a lot of things to be overlooked. I'm going to try harder this year to adopt and adhere to a bit more rigid and rigorous schedule which includes daily writing time. I have plenty of projects to work on so it's just a matter of prioritizing them and the rest of my day. If I am unable to write it is because my higher priorities (namely family) came first. If I don't write when I am able it is because I allowed my priorities to become unaligned and need someone to kick my in the bum. So please be the eager fan club that applies the spurs when necessary. Happy New Year!

Clean Slate

On the Jukebox: "Housework" by the B52's

Quote: "Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?" ~ L. M. Montgomery

Flair: Right at home

It's a new year and that means a fresh start for everyone. It would be nice if we could start clean in every way. Unfortunately, many of us had company over the Christmas holidays and some hosted New Year's Eve parties so there are a few leftover messes to be dealt with. Such is life! Some of us are the hot messes that need tidying.

I'm getting a fresh start this year in a big way. I'm getting to see things in a new way thanks to my little girl. Everything is new and exciting to her and watching her learn allows me to experience things I've taken for granted with renewed enthusiasm and appreciation. My daughter recently invented gravity and enjoys demonstrating its awesome power for me by tossing items from her lunch tray onto my freshly mopped floors. I'm learning to appreciate that she wants me to have job security and therefore does her part to make sure I will never be unemployed in a perfectly clean kitchen.

Of course there are days when she takes a spill as she toddles over the uneven tiles.She gets upset and babbles in some fascinating language that I never learned but I'm fairly certain from her intonation that she's quoting Homer Simpson, "Oh come on gravity. You used to be cool!" She then collapses into a tear soaked, runny nosed, claggy mess that I have to clean up.

Have you ever wondered how we learned that egg protein was good for conditioning our hair or avocado makes a good facial mask? I'm positive a mother invented those homemade beauty aids after cleaning up after her little mess maker. I'm doing my best to be cheerful about the variety of messes I am called upon to tidy but think it unfair that even the areas of my home that I previously cleaned and haven't used since have the audacity to get dirty when no one is in them. Therefore I decree that dust is a country accent and cat fur is just taking the animal print theme to the next level.

In lieu of a spic and span home I'm starting fresh with a better attitude. Over the past few years I've allowed cynicism and complaints to taint my life much like a buildup of soap scum in the bathtub. I'm making a conscious effort to choose gratitude, patience, and mercy instead of anger and critical thoughts. I know that this will take a lot of mental elbow grease so I'll be putting off scrubbing and resealing the grout for a few months. It'll be fine. They call it spring cleaning for a reason!

Life in the Dish

On the Jukebox: "Heaven or Las Vegas" by Cocteau Twins
Quote: "The night before I left Las Vegas I walked out into the desert to look at the moon. There was a jeweled city on the horizon, spires rising in the night, but the jewels were diadems of electric and the spires were the neon of signs ten stories high. " ~ Norman Mailer
Flair: Cut-rate Babylon

Two years ago I moved to southern Nevada from the Salt Lake area. What a contrast of cultures to go from Temple-dotted vistas to views of half-naked people of billboards. Fortunately, most of that tasteless stuff is relegated to the Strip and other resort areas. Where I live is relatively tame and untouched by flashing neon come-ons for tourists. The Strip is not for me yet, I confess that I can't help but admire the architecture of the newer casinos and hotels. It's like someone picked up the world's treasures and plopped them down in one place. The valley horizon boasts a pyramid, the Eiffel Tower, the New York skyline, a somewhat cheesy castle, a gorgeous Italian palace, a miniature Lake Como, a half dozen glass skyscrapers, and a towering space needle. It's the world's most interactive nightlight.

I've come to reflect on how I've spent the majority of my years in dish-like valleys. I like the way the land feels protected by strong walls. I especially loved the Central Coast of California. Santa Maria Valley was beautiful with its temperate weather and panoramic views of the ocean, strawberry fields, vineyards, and foothills of the Sierra Nevadas dotted with oak trees. I also came to love the Salt Lake Valley. Even though it is a high desert, a surprising amount of things flourish there and its snow capped majesty is breathtaking. It quickly felt like home because it mirrored the Santa Maria Valley in that the high mountains were to the east and the water was on the west side with the freeway bisecting the valley.

Now I've come to dwell in another valley that is a complementary combination of the last two. It has a population of over a million people so it's big city like SLC with an international airport and local LDS Temple. It is also heavily influenced by the west coast. Nevada is on Pacific time because most of the people who make the mecca here are from Los Angeles and we must cater to them. The local population has a liberal sprinkling of Mormons (who were the original founders of town) and California transplants. I love the diversity of cultures and languages spoken here. I like the oddities that come from resort type towns. I've passed the 'Zombie Apacolypse' store several times on my way to Chinatown and must investigate further. You know how we Mormons are about food storage and personal preparedness...

I like that although it is widely known as 'Sin City' and I recently moved from 'Zion.'  A place is what you make it. So for me my home is Zion in the midst of Babylon. It's a good reminder to be in the world but not of the world. In all my 'dwelling dishes' I've used landmarks such as mountains to navigate. In my previous two valleys I knew the mountains should be on my right if I was headed north and vice versa if I was headed south. Here the mountains, with the exception of Mt. Charleston, are all pretty much the same height so looking around the dish to determine direction can get confusing. Thank goodness for the Stratosphere Tower. It stands near the center of town and can be seen both night and day. All I have to do is find the Tower and I can figure out where I am. Likewise, I also have the Temple as a landmark. It is centered at the base of the mountains on the east side of town and has lovely spires which catch the light. When I lose my way spiritually, I need but look to the Temple for divine direction.

I like this place no matter what others say about it. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas? Well, yes, if you bought a home here good luck trying to sell it to move elsewhere. You're also lucky if you have a job here, but this town is all about making your own luck. Vegas, baby! It should be my new maxim since we have expanded our family to include a native Nevadan, a Vegas baby  if you will.

Bring in the New Year

On the Jukebox: "The New Year" by Death Cab for Cutie
Mood: Optimistic
Quote: "All the adversity I've had in my life, all my troubles and obstacles, have strengthened me... You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you." ~ Walt Disney
Flair: Bring it!

Happy New Year! I'm catching onto a pattern as this seems to happen approximately every 365 days. I still don't understand the need to evaluate the passing year in a pessimistic sense and turn to the next with unrealistic expectations. Surely, every passing year had something great to offer us. Trials we overcame, goals we mastered, journeys taken, and relationships we strengthened. The key is to focus on the positives and then it is easy to see the gift each day offers us. May 2012 be our best year yet!

The Best Two Years?

On the Jukebox: "Clocks" by Coldplay
Quote: "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." ~ John Lennon
Flair: In a blur

Most of us have had that awful experience of being caught in a traffic jam with no escape moving slowly past the wreckage of a life-altering accident. As the long line of tail lights creep towards the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles on the horizon we wonder what happened and if anyone was hurt. As we approach, there is a clenching in our stomachs and a simultaneous urge to turn away but our curiosity also compels us to look. Witnessing such a scene once can give us pause, makes us more cautious drivers, and more appreciative of our lives. Prolonged exposure can lead to nightmares and depression.

If you blinked you may have missed the last few years of my life or at least the related blog posts. But don't worry; it was probably for your own good. No one needed to view the life-altering wreck I was experiencing. Several huge life events were unfolding all at once which caused a traumatic ripple effect: I moved to Las Vegas, had the final attempt at adoption fail, became isolated from the comforts of home and friends, and fell into a stress-induced spiraling depression as I struggled to cope with my new reality. Then things got even stranger; I got pregnant again.

After my last pregnancy and miscarriage (which few people knew about) I felt the need to become even more guarded. I quit posting my blog publicly so that I could explore my differing emotions without the input of others. I was faced with so many trials as we struggled to sell the our Utah home, searched for a new one,  and kept this high risk pregnancy secret from everyone. I can't even begin to tell you how hard it was to live through those months of waiting and wondering. I was worried about my out of shape body and for the health of my unborn child - especially since tests were positive for down syndrome and doctors had brought up abortion three times. It was definitely a time for private soul searching and strengthening of personal faith. Of course, we all know it ends well with a healthy and beautiful little girl, a new home, and me getting used to my new role as a mother.

Finally becoming a mother after twenty years is a hard adjustment. It too required the privacy of thought while I adjusted to perhaps the biggest change in my life. There were many dark days in the past two years but they were merely passing clouds that briefly hid the sun. I also experience many days filled with miracles, tender mercies, and enlightening learning experiences. I feel remorseful about hiding all my ruminations but without proper context they lose meaning. In the coming year I will be more open but also more selective with whom I am sharing the journey.

Broken Hearted Monsters

On the Jukebox: "Heart of the Matter" by Don Henley
Quote: "... perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke (excerpt from Letters to a Young Poet)
Flair: Sticks and Stones

I've decided that "The Formative Years" will be the theme to this week's posts...

Did you ever read that adolescent tear jerker "Bridge to Terabithia"? I read it when I was in the 4th grade and it changed my outlook on one particular thing: Bullies. In the novel, Janice Avery is the school bully who routinely steals little kids' lunches and charges fees to use the bathroom. The young protagonists get even with her and turn her into the laughing stalk of the school. The triumph is short lived when they later discover that Janice is the way she is because she is bullied by an abusive father at home.

Perhaps it was the timing of when I read the book. I was popular and secure in my identity. I had plenty of school chums and no fear of riding the bus. My experience with bullies was limited and my mother taught me how to turn them into friends. Little did I know that a short time later I would come to dread the words, "Seat's taken!" and would actually have a school assembly called where the principal paraded my brothers and me up on stage and declared that, "No one is allowed to go near these white children!" (That's a story for another day...)

I went from living in Mormon-majority St. George, Utah to middle-of-nowhere, poverty stricken Vacherie, LA where I learned a lesson in reverse discrimination. Besides me and my 3 brothers, there were five other white kids (mostly special ed) and a Puerto Rican family. The school was called 6th Ward (and deserved its prison title.) It was as a 6th grader that I endured threats by scissor wielding bullies who wanted to cut my long blonde hair off.

Almost without exception these attacks were brought on by simple misunderstandings. I had a hard time comprehending the local slang and accents and they didn't like my Yankee-girl speak. It didn't change when a semester later I transferred to a better school forty minutes away in Luling. There again language differences got me in trouble, coupled with trying to readjust to being allowed near other children again.

Sometimes we'll never know why we were singled out for attack. Was it our looks or manner of dressing? Something we said or did? The fact that the bully's secret crush showed interest in you even if you didn't reciprocate? And is verbal harassment considered an acceptable form of hazing for new students? Should you just shut up and take it or is that how school shootings happen?

Because of my meek mannered nature, I became the victim of bullies the rest of my school days. Mostly it was teasing, prank calls, and perceived threats... but there were physical blows on a few occasions. I remember being terrified of a girl in my new school who would stand behind me in the lunch line and whisper threats about catching me on my way home. The weird thing is that her rosy cheeked sidekick seemed genuinely sweet. How could someone that angelic hang out with the devil?

It didn't compute, so I knew that there had to be something more to this bully who I'll call 'Chris' (because I had more bullies called Christine, Christy, Christopher, or Chrissy, than any other name.) Chris stood a foot taller than me. Maybe that made her feel like a freak. I was short for a 6th grader but she'd be tall even for a 8th grader. She had a weird last name... that sounded like something a Russian spy might be called. Who knows? Maybe Chris was jealous of my petite build and generic sounding name. I only knew that when I looked at her I saw someone who seemed sad and troubled. She was a broken hearted monster that needed love not pitch forks.

After Chris continued to breathe out more threats I went to the school office to ask for help. I didn't want to tell them who the person bullying me was. I just wanted some advice. I was sure that I could save myself from a beating and help Chris without getting her in trouble. Instead the counselor made my teacher write down the names of the suspected bullies and I had to go to counseling with them (which didn't help me make a lot of friends.) Incidentally, the reason why Chris wanted to beat the tar out of me was she heard me remark that, "she spits in my hair" when what I said was, "gets in my hair" which is a Western term for annoying me. Of course the accent is to blame... and the fact that I hadn't learned to censor myself. From her side of the room Chris used to stare at me with her eyes narrowed to slits and that annoyed/ perturbed me.

If only all bully issues could be solved that easily. Chris and I called a truce. We were never friends and she still treated me with passive aggressive hostility in junior high, but by that time I had a whole new batch of bullies to deal with. Being Latter-day Saint meant that I got lots of anti-Mormon literature poked through my locker vents. I'm sure some of the kids were well meaning but ignorant, but some enjoyed writing "Burn in Hell!!!" on the pamphlets. There were plenty of nasty rumors and pranks that made me contemplate suicide on more than one occasion.

Probably the most ironic part of this post is that the one person I bullied was named 'Kris' and he was the only person newer than me in the school. Someone called him 'Kris the cockroach.' It caught on, but when I tried to use that cruel nickname they turned on me and said I couldn't call him names. I'll never forget the hurt look in his eyes - the betrayal by his only ally. I'm still sorry for it and apologized repeatedly to him. I was trying to fit in at his expense. I was a broken hearted monster that just wanted the approval of her peers and to make a friend.

I'm grateful that I learned empathy at an early age because it taught me to see the good in people. Now that I'm an adult with psychology training I've learned new insight into some of the troubled souls who tortured me. The truth is I have yet to meet anyone who loved their junior high experience. It was a formative time for our identities. We were all fighting hard battles and sometimes the true casualties can only be numbered in hindsight.

For anyone who saw me then as a monster, please forgive me and reframe your impression to see me as Frankenstein's creature longing for sympathy, but was shunned by everyone. That thought brings me back to my quote by Rilke - aren't all monsters really in need of help? As you encounter monsters in your daily life try viewing them as something helpless in need of your help and see if you can transform them into the truly heavenly creatures they are. Embrace the divine spark in everyone you meet. If we should meet again in person I will greet you with Namaste! 'All that is best and highest in me greets/salutes all that is best and highest in you.'