Sunday, April 29, 2012

Talent and Trial

I would call love a talent


Some people are better at it than others. It can be something you work on daily to improve on or something that comes as naturally as crying. Most of the time it takes years to develop this talent of love. And I'm not just talking about romantic love, but brotherly love, compassion, and every other kind of love you can think of.


If you asked me to make a list of my talents, I would probably put love somewhere near the top. My spirit has this high capacity for love and I have come to realize that not only is it a talent but it is a major trial.


Dont get me wrong, I do NOT claim to have a perfect love for everyone, but with most friendships or relationships, I find my heart (and arms) opening up to encircle people with love that they aren't ready for. I am ready to love people immediately and most people need time to pry open their hearts to let me in.


Maybe there's a fear that goes hand in hand with love that I have learned to ignore. No matter how many times I break my heart over friendships or relationships, I love fearlessly.


I guess patience is a talent I must work on.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

My Fleshy Heart

Sometimes I wish I could just throw up ink onto a page and all my thoughts would be perfectly sprawled out into something beautiful. 
If you could see inside my brain you would see a field of light bulbs glowing in the darkness. 
Peculiar and enthralling. 
But it seems that those light bulbs only glow brightly in the darkness of the inside of my skull and when I try to let them out to shine for others they are dim.
I just want to let life in; let the souls of others touch the fleshy parts of my heart and be uplifted.
It is easy to feel out of my league in a room full of creative brains.
We all want to be independent and different from the crowd with our knit sweaters and whispy hair and yet all we want is to be understood. How do we expect to be understood when we want to be different from everyone else?
The trouble with being unique is that I am still human and I still have the same insecurities that every other teenager does.
I want to be liked by boys. I want to be viewed as talented. I want to be somebody. I want to walk down the hallways and not have to see the word "LOSER" in place of "PROM".
I want to be able to enjoy other's talents and not envy them. I want to be able to except myself for who I am and be proud to be me, even if me is a bump on a log, talentless and useless; I want to be me.
I want to be ok with just being friends.
I want to open up my fleshy heart and accept what comes and love myself for my weaknesses. I want to view my fleshy heart as lovable even when I don't feel loved. 
I am the girl with eraser shavings all over my writing and ink stains on my fingers. I am the girl with messy hair and no make up on. I am the girl that every girl comes to to talk about boys because I am so giggly and I make them feel appreciated and I give them advice and yet I have no real love experience of my own.
Oh, my heart.
Did this make sense to anyone? 
My brain just threw up on this page, except my thoughts didn't exactly sprawl out the way I wanted them too.


fin.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Incandescent Joy

I'm sitting here staring at my computer screen thinking of what to say that would satisfy my need to express the feelings that blossomed this weekend. This weekend was full of Discovery. On Sunday, I sat in the chapel with over 200 other people from school and partook of the sacrament. It sounds like such a simple thing, but to me it was a very personal experience. It wasn't that the talks were specifically wonderful or that there was anything out of the ordinary to spark extreme self-discovery, but I seemed to be completely in tune with the spirit and received this incandescent joy that only comes from a spiritual high. 

I sat there watching two of my friends bless the sacrament and thought of how happy I was that I was surrounded by worthy priesthood holders at my school, and all of a sudden I realized that this joy is what it is all about. We have the gospel, scriptures, atonement, prophets, commandments, and temples all to ultimately achieve eternal joy. We get little Costco-sized samples of this joy once in a while on this earth, but the eternal goal is to accomplish the joy of having a whole Costco in your pantry. 

After church, we strolled around the temple and my spiritual high continued. Is it weird that I never cease to be amazed that I live in a place of all Mormons? I could have never imagined how much that one fact would mean to me--that we can go to church as a school choir, feel the spirit together, and walk around the temple as friends is peculiar and wonderful. 

Once incandescent joy was discovered, I discovered two more things--music and a friend. There's this indescribable feeling of elation when you work together with other talented people to create something unique and spectacular. It isn't achieved just by singing, but by uniting and delicately feeling out the music as a group. The power that this creation has is undefined and yet so very tangible in the hearts of all that feel it. I felt this elation in Virginia almost every time I sang with my choir, so leaving that choir was one of the most emotionally strenuous things I have had to do thus far. When I came to Lone Peak, I never thought I could feel that elation with such a large and not so disciplined choir; I was wrong. It took all year to achieve it and to connect with each other and the unexpected feeling took me by surprise, so much so that I cried aligator tears. We were singing Thou Gracious God, the last song in our fireside, and this power took root in all of our hearts and all of a sudden we seemed to be one--one choir singing praises of joy to our God. It was like looking down during a frigid walk in winter and discovering a million dollars laying on the ground. So unexpected, and so remarkable.

And what made that day even greater was that I found a really unexpected friend. Discovering something that you never dreamed of finding is one of those things that is continually pleasing. This friend was someone I knew before this weekend and yet never took the time to talk to. He has, quite possibly, the most unique and deep mind I have found inside a teenage boy--ever. In fact, the reason I decided to write this blog entry is because I read some of his blog and was inspired. He is a deep thinker, a talented writer, and a good listener and that unexpected find was like a breath of fresh air. Not many boys think about the things he does or even care to give me the time of day about my thoughts. Before this weekend, I had all of these pre-conceived ideas about him and they were all completely wrong. I truly savored the hours and hours I had on the bus with him just to pick his brain and find out what makes him tick. 

But do you know what is absolutely silly in every way (yes silly is the only word that fits this context)? As we neared the school after the over night/afternoon bus ride, I became really down. Not only was this weekend of incandescent joy over, but it almost felt like that unexpected friendship would be over too. Of course, I wouldn't choose for it to end so abruptly after such great conversations and connection, but I exposed this insecure fragment in my heart and began to think that this was a tiny era in both of our lives and after it we would go back to acquaintanceship. All of a sudden the joy of the whole weekend was shattered and my heart was frantically trying to sweep up and glue the pieces back together. It was all so silly, because joy is something that comes a taste at a time

Just because one era of joy is ending does not mean you can not cherish that little crystal in your heart. It's so easy to be more sad that it is over than happy that it happened. But good news! That crystal of joy is not just a memory that you leave behind, but a triangle of light that you can carry in your pocket as you walk away and think about all of the good that came of that experience. Even though the weekend is over, I can still use that crystal to get me through the last few weeks of school and the stress that accompanies it. I can choose to plant that crystal in my garden of joy and a little crystal tree will grow there. That one era of time can be a source of strength to get me through. It should not be looked at as sad because it is in the past. And that friendship I found on the bus will also be a crystal in my pocket. That discovery of a friend (who has the coolest brain ever) will stick with me even if he chooses to move on from our friendship. Because no matter what happens after this incredible weekend, my garden of joy is still that much bigger.