Jet lag

I am sitting in a poorly-lit airport terminal 

and blurs of businessmen and angsty mothers surround me. 
I've been watching the planes take off and land 

for delay after layover 

and the weight of this mansion of concrete and wings 
is sinking into my impressionable mind. 

This place is the hub of all emotion. 

Desperate lovers embrace tenderly. 

Wide-eyed adventurers tap their nervous toes, 
awaiting embarkation--awaiting unknown. 

Babies ensconced in their mother's arms sleep restlessly, 

oblivious of what this terminal entails. 

Clean cut suits and skirts arrive home after months of being away--

exposing their shiny new countenances to those most familiar to them. 

Immigrants walk confidently with absolute potential and fear in their eyes. 

Elated hellos. 

Teary farewells. 

Certainty. 

Insecurity. 

This is the hub. 

It is the center of every inkling of the heart. 

And from here I could take a jet plane and 

fly anywhere. 

Trailing Clouds of Glory

This life is but a remembrance. 

The souls of men were forged

in God's courts on high an eternity ago. 

We were taught by his side, 

touched by his gentle finger, 

and filled with light for the journey.

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, 

Hath had elsewhere its setting, 

And cometh from afar: 

Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God, who is our home."*

When truth is heard and light is felt,

our spirits leap in absolute elation,

for they recognize a particle of home.

These passions and philosophies sounded in our ears

and fabricated in our minds

are no newer to us than our mother's voice.

We've always known them.

It is but a remembrance.

As the journey continues,

we search and scour for familiarity--

any bell that rings and reverberates 

that divine sound wave is clung to

with desperate longing for the true country.

Satisfaction is a starving beast

that devours as much substance

as can fit in its mouth.

But what can completely fill this greedy monster

but the bread of life and living water

found only on the grand supper table above?

Time keeps our heads forward,

but if we could glance back,

we would see our heals trailing clouds of glory,

linking us to our origin and 

pushing us to that eternal potential. 

And after a lifetime of

hoping and leaping,

ringing bells and going to bed hungry, 

we will arrive in the forging place once more and exclaim,

"I have come home at last! 

This is my real country! 

I belong here. 

This is the land I have been looking for all my life, 

though I never knew it till now."**

*from a poem written by a genius called William Wordsworth

**from The Last Battle by an even greater genius called C.S. Lewis

This Magic Moment

Long live all the magic we made.

Top Ten Most Incandescent Moments of Senior Year (in no particular order):

#1 The lava cave. While in St. George, with sixteen of the greatest people, we hiked in Snow Canyon and discovered a lava cave. Though dark and almost impossible to navigate sans flashlights, we brought light into that pocket of earth with who we were together. We sat in the back of the cave and sang the EFY medley and I was overcome by the force of good we were. How did I ever get so privileged to be apart of this group of stellar human beings? We really are as the armies of Heleman and in about a year almost every one of those kids will be out in the mission field serving the Lord.

#2 Prom. God made my heart light that night despite my not-so-desirable circumstances. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I didn't have a date but I made my appearance at the dance anyway and I felt like I was on top of the world. It was one of those moments when I was really proud to be me. I respect myself for that night. I turned my tear-stained pillow into something magical.

#3 Hiking in the pouring rain. I went to St. George with my strange baby child and one afternoon we hiked in Snow Canyon. The rain came pouring but that only encouraged our running and giggling and sense of adventure. That was the best soggy bagel I've ever had. If you know how wild we are, you probably know that I'm leaving out quite a few details.

#4 Imagine Dragons. Forgive this word that is becoming cliche, but that night I felt INFINITE. I stood by the side of someone I care about dearly and all expectations were exceeded. The bass reached out of the speakers and took hold of my heart until I couldn't differentiate my heart beat from the beat of the drum. I kept closing my eyes and committing every feeling and sound to memory because every ounce of the night was breathtakingly beautiful. The snow swirled around us as we sat in the car and I wanted to stay there forever--not because it was cold without but because it was endlessly joyful within.

#5 Empire State Building. The wind was blowing and it was bitter cold, but I didn't even care. I huddled with three of my best friends and together we gazed in awe upon the beautiful view of the Big Apple. For a moment, time stood still. The four of us talked about how we'll never get this moment again. We would never be in New York as seniors in high school with so much future and potential ahead of us. I soaked every second in and let that tiny era of time permeate my very being. That night, we got stuck in the subway for an hour and a half at one in the morning but nothing could shake our elation. 

#6 Senior dinner dance. That night was such a great climax to my story-book year. The food was delicious, the music was loud, the atmosphere was young, and I wouldn't choose any other group of people to dance with on this entire planet. All inhibitions were lost and whether I was dancing with my friends, dancing with strangers, or dancing alone I was confident and happy. "Tonight I'm gonna dance for all that we've been through, but I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancin' with you."*

#7 Pi day. It's funny to add this day to the "top ten moments" list because half of the day was the lowest I was all year. I was feeling depressed and disconnected and forgotten and confused. I had a lot of deep feelings for many people and I felt like they weren't reciprocating or understanding. I had taken a step back from everyone and my heart was physically hurting from all the emotional pain. And then I got a blessing from my Dad. I recorded it on my phone and took that recording with my bike to the park. There I laid in the grass and watched the clouds lazily creep by as I listened to my blessing again. I realized I had lost myself and my eyes burned with all the salt rimming their lids. But as the sun peaked through the clouds, I felt my soul peak through the darkness and I got a glimpse of the Self that I had lost. I listened to While We're Young (kind of cheesy but has a really great message) and the hope of the atonement filled my emptiness. That light endured the night as I went to six mission call openings and then ate pie with my two favorite girls. Christ is so merciful to those drowning in darkness if they but have the faith to ask for succor.

#8 That one night in Orem. As tradition provokes, my strange baby child and I sat in Barnes & Noble for over three hours browsing, reading and writing. Two minutes after leaving that peaceful library, we were screaming and laughing like maniacs. Krispy Kream, International, Chinese fire drills, and empty parking lots make for really great nights. Oh, the variety that friendship holds. 

#9 Boating around the island of Capri. I sat there on this tiny motor boat with my wonderful parents and took in the whites of the cliffs and the blues of the Mediterranean and I couldn't imagine a more perfect, blissful moment. At that very minute, my friends were going to AP Lit and I was sailing around this island with not a care in the world. I closed my eyes and reflected upon each adventure the past two weeks had brought me and my heart burst with gratitude. I was able to walk where Christ walked, explore ruins, taste authentic cuisines, and meet inspired men and women. Missing so much school was worth it--never let your schooling get in the way of your education.

#10 The missionary announcement and the walk that followed. No amount of intricate diction can express the feelings of that day. I can't envisage hearing Thomas S. Monson's proclamation to all future missionaries and not feeling the power and truth in his words. My spirit lept at the possibility of going out on a mission so soon and when I got a text from my best friend to go on a walk, I couldn't get to his house fast enough. We hiked through a dry creek bed and entrusted one another with our excitement and fears. To be apart of this amazing generation is not only an incandescent moment in my senior year, but it will make for an incandescent life.

Here's to the adventures ahead.

*stolen from Caitlan Wrubell and Taylor Swift

My heart strings and yours.

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of the time, the place, or the circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break."

I never planned on meeting you. I wasn't hoping to get my heart invested in this place or this group or these mountains. I tried to guard my soul. But as I got closer to my new home, my whole being danced in the slack of the red thread between you and me. It had been pulled taut for so long but the connection was certain. I couldn't avoid it. My little finger was tied to your little finger and no matter how much it was pulled and knotted, I was destined to be here in this place, at this time, with YOU. All of you. 

You have made me laugh so hard I thought my abs would never recover. You have made me cry so much I thought my tear ducts would be eternally empty. You have made me feel more confident in myself than I've ever felt in my life. You have made me question myself and examine myself closer in the mirror and wonder what I'm doing wrong. You have understood me better than anyone. You have made me feel alone and unloved. You have taught me to love others unconditionally. You have taught me patience. You have made me a better me. You have made me sing and dance and run and scream and I can't thank you enough.

That red thread will always connect us, no matter the distance of time and space. I will always walk with a lighter step because there's a fine union between my heart and yours--and that union only became fonder as we swayed in accord, walked for a cure, and sent praises heavenward. 

"I'd like to believe everyone who comes across this blog was destined to do so for one reason or another". In some small way, whether I know you well or not, you have touched my life and I hope I've touched yours; for wherever our paths go, we will forever have this red thread--this life line--that binds us together. And it will never be severed. 

When you are bored during an AP test...

Haikus aplenty:

I hate AP tests;
they are no good for my brain.
Let summer begin.

With mouth open wide,
the heaven's light was absorbed
and knowledge received.

You do not steal hearts,
my dear, you're more devious.
You steal fingerprints.

Darker the night fall
and deeper the stark silence
when you are not here.

No love at first sight.
Though I saw you first today,
I knew you before.

In my eighteen years,
I've learned that life is about
taking wild risks.

Windows down, bare feet.
There is nothing more perfect
than those summer nights.

Happiness, my dear,
is not a goal to achieve,
but a way to live.

The light, effulgent,
penetrated my great soul,
and God smiled down.

Palpitations

Her cheek felt smooth and cold on the stone,
but that wasn't what enticed her to stay; 
it was the steady beat
that radiated from something so solid. 
She was no animist, 
but she felt a pulse in that pillar
that was life-bearing, 
familiar, 
for it was the rhythm
she had been dancing to 
for eighteen years. 
It was not only contained in that stone, 
but it embraced her universe--
perpetually reciprocal to the electricity in her heart.
 
Her mind steadied as she felt the beat on her cheekbone 
but the current in her veins experienced a short. 
She had, what the doctors call, 
a palpitation. 
The short sent her heart beating 
for one tantalizing, breathtaking moment, 
and then, an awakening--
the rhythm that had dominated her existence since 
her mother's womb was 
changing. 
Her heart's sporadic throbbing
was only a symptom
of the cosmos
shifting. 

Peaches

Your cheeks always reminded me of peaches. They were perfectly round and soft and sweet and life-colored when you smiled. I used to rub my cheeks on yours so mine would be as beautiful. As you carried me up those sentimental stairs, I whimpered because I didn't want to be banished to a room, far away from you. I wrapped my arms around your neck and pressed my dimples to yours. You stopped on the staircase and looked me in the eyes with tenderness. You told me I was precious. That helped me relent to the rest of the journey to your great, pine bed. My little body felt littler in the king-sized covers, but when you climbed into bed next to me, your arms were my comfort. 

The ritual of nap time endeared me to you. First, we would decide whether to sleep side to side, front to back, back to back, or front to front. I remember I thought I might hurt your feelings if I said, "back to back," because it meant we wouldn't be as close. Then, we would practice what "Goodnight Moon" taught  us, and say goodnight to every object in the room. "Goodnight window. Goodnight ceiling. Goodnight dresser. Goodnight pillow." We would say goodnight until there weren't anymore goodnights to be said. I always woke up from my nap to find you were no longer there, and that sent me into a moment of panic. Knowing you were just one floor away brought me relief.

It's all very poignant because the bones of that child you put down for naps are the same bones that live inside of me today. I still sit next to you on the second row and look at your peachy cheeks and hope I inherit your beauty. I still hold you as tight as I can because I know these are fleeting moments. You still tell me I'm precious. And now I'm crying because our "goodnights" are becoming goodbyes. "Goodbye window. Goodbye ceiling. Goodbye dresser. Goodbye pillow." Soon, I will turn over in my springy dorm room bed and you really won't be there and my panic will not be assuaged by the knowledge that you are just downstairs in your office.  

But here's to the electricity between our souls and the dancing in the family room. Here's to the yearning after knowledge and the badgers in the backyard. Here's to the divine talks and the giggling past curfew. Here's to the exploring and the accordion man that made our night so quintessential. And here's to the many more dimpley, peachy cheeks ahead, for after I pack all my t-shirts and journals and move to that springy dorm room bed, we still have eternity together; and we'll never run out of good mornings and hellos.

Happy Mother's Day, best friend.