Saturday 29 October 2011

Don’t curse the parking lot

As a kid, the song “Big Yellow Taxi” struck a chord with me. Maybe it’s strange but I feel like I’ve always carried a deep appreciation for what I have because I’ve also carried the feeling that it could be taken away at any time.

Those early years when Joni Mitchell’s words of wisdom resonated with me I was conversely confused by the saying “if you love someone let them go.” I think my mom used that on me when I wanted to keep my pet caterpillars in the house. At any rate, I remember thinking I much preferred playing with my caterpillars and showing my love that way rather than letting them go into the world.

My view of caterpillars changed after an unfortunate experience in the woods. I had been helping my uncle forage for all sorts of plants and herbs in the woods in Victoria. We’d driven his jeep out to the woods and after returning home, somebody in my family (I’ve blocked out the exact events) told me I had caterpillars in my ear. Sure enough, it turns out I’d walked into a nest of caterpillars or something and they’d relocated to my ear.

I digress. My view of caterpillars has changed but my view on not taking things for granted hasn’t. My life experiences have continually reaffirmed these feelings.

In my teenage years, boy did I long to get away. I would dream every night of making it big with one of my bands (4-eva..can’t believe we didn’t make it). If not music, I dreamed of playing NCAA field hockey for Duke or the Tar Heels. When I graduated, plans shifted but they still involved getting away. Calgary, AB, seemed like the best fit. A big city with lots of Mormons. And better yet. I’d be moving out there with my best friends.

Since it was our first time really away from home, our parents came out to see us off. It was a disaster at first. Kristy, Lisa and I were all living in different places. Lisa and Kris in the new residence buildings and I was stuck in some trashy, OLD residence. Thankfully my dad put his foot down and managed to work with the other parents to get us all in the same place.

It seemed like the transition would be easy. I was realizing my dream of leaving home while still having the luxury of spending most waking moments with my BFFs. The instant my mom’s van pulled away, the tears came. My friends and I consoled each other. I was surprised by my reaction. Despite my belief that you should never take anything for granted, I’d completely taken my family for granted.

Maybe it’s a rite of passage. Most teenagers probably prefer their parents have little to do with them. I imagine many of us eventually go through that same rude awakening either through change or tragedy.

That’s just one of many experiences I’ve had: realizing that against my best intentions, I’d started taking someone or something for granted. Sometimes it’s something really important, like family. Sometimes it’s something as simple as hot water when I turn on the tap.

There are so many things I have to be grateful for. So many things I can take for granted with too much ease. This has been on my mind a lot lately.

So I guess this ramble amounts to me putting in print my resolve to not take things for granted. I’ll try to treasure the moment. The magic. The mundane. I know I’ll disregard something without even trying but nobody’s perfect. Even I won’t take that for granted.

Friday 21 October 2011

Late nights, early mornings

I don't know how many Emerson Drive fans there are out there but one of their songs is often on repeat in my head...especially late at night...it goes something like "I should be sleeping, 'stead of keeping these late hours I've been keeping".

And still, I don't let myself fall asleep until the clock's at least turned to tomorrow. I'm positive I'll regret not sleeping more now, when we have kids. I'll look back at these nights of opportunity and curse my foolishness. If only you could stock up on sleep. My early teens would have set me at least for my first year of University.

This week, there was a lot going on. There were three hockey games in five days, a concert I briefly worked at and a night of laundry and my favourite show, Criminal Minds. Thankfully I didn't have a hockey game to play in this week or else it really would have been a crazy week.

In the midst of the craziness, I did find time to dream. In my sleep too, no less. Twice this week I dreamed of some of my favourite people in the world (yes, I mean you and a few other people...). The first dream I was back in Rexburg, ID, and came across the apartment of real-life former roommates Kristy (Symes now), Lisa (Smith now) and Wendy (Plummer now) as well as a dear friend, Annamieke. Sterling and I somehow got separated and as I was wandering the streets to find him, I stumbled across their apartment.

I just remember feeling so happy to see them. I knew a lot had changed but at the core, we were still dear friends. At some point there was also a yellow lab cameo in my dream, which made it that much cooler.

I essentially dreamed of the same 'cast' of characters (yellow lab included) the following night and again awoke with a sense of nostalgia and great love and appreciation for the amazing friends I've been blessed with in my life. I don't know what those back-to-back dreams mean, if anything. Probably that I miss my friends and should see them soon. I'll buy that.

For now..sweet dreams. Hopefully that familiar crew comes for a visit again tonight. Until we meet again.

Sunday 16 October 2011

Hi, my name is....

When I was in a high school a new rapper on the scene released the song “My Name Is.” The lyrics got dirtier by verse (thank goodness for radio edits) but man did it have a catchy hook. In more or less words, he told the world his name was Slim Shady.


Funny thing is, over a decade later and that guy is better known as Eminem. As far as I can remember, he’s always been better known as Eminem in the music industry.


The reason that I bring this up is that lately there’s been some debate in the U.S. about ‘Mormons’ (members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and whether or not they can call themselves Christians.


I just googled the definition of Christian and the first hit was:


A person who has received Christian baptism or is a believer in Jesus Christ and his teachings.


I was raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and can say I’m definitely a believer in Jesus Christ and His teachings. I am so far from perfect but I believe in Christ, I love my Savior and I know that He paid the ultimate price so that I might one day have the chance to return to my Heavenly Father. I’ve read the teachings of Christ in the Old Testament, New Testament and Book of Mormon since I was a little munchkin so yes, I believe I fit in the definition of being a Christian.


Really though, what does it matter? Protestant, Baptist, Catholic, Mormon—these terms that define a different type of Christian. We all believe in our Savior. Sure sometimes we have different approaches but at the heart of it, we all believe in Jesus Christ.


Every Sunday as I’ve taken the Sacrament this year, I’ve made it a habit to read out of the New Testament. Today I happened to be in Mark in Chapter 9 where it read:


38 ¶And John answered him, saying, Master, we saw one acasting out devils in thy name, and he followeth not us: and we forbad him, because he followeth not us.

39 But Jesus said, Forbid him not: for there is no man which shall do a amiracle in my bname, that can lightly speak evil of me.

40 For he that is not against us is aon our part.

41 For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not alose his breward.


John, a beloved apostle of Jesus Christ, shared a legitimate concern of his to the Savior. Somebody was claiming to be performing miracles in the name of Jesus Christ. This person was not one of Christ’s twelve apostles and didn’t follow them so John felt he shouldn’t be using the Savior’s name to perform miracles.


The Savior clarified then what I believe now. If they’re not against us, they’re with us.


Joseph Smith outlined our beliefs in 1842 in a letter to John Wentworth, a newspaper editor, and I believe that what he said then rings true today. In this case, it’s the 11th Article of Faith that applies here:


We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.


I have great respect for anyone who believes in something. I have greater respect for those who believe in something that helps them want to be better, kinder and more charitable every day—and they actually live it.


What I don’t respect is people trying to put others down for their beliefs. Whether in middle school or religion, it’s never right to blow out another’s candle so yours might grow brighter.


Last week, a religious figure in the U.S. called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints a cult. That’s not the first I’ve heard that term used in association with my religion and it probably won’t be the last. To be honest, it doesn’t offend me.


Thanks to another google search, I just found this top hit for the definition of cult:


  1. A system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object.
  2. A relatively small group of people having religious beliefs or practices regarded by others as strange or sinister.


Um..yeah..I have extreme respect for God and Jesus Christ for that matter. Do they qualify as ‘figures’? For that second part of the definition…does more than 10 million qualify as a small group?


Call me a Mormon, a Latter-day Saint, a member of a cult. Who cares? I believe in Jesus Christ. I know who I am. I know God’s plan. I’ll follow Him in faith.


Marshall Mathers called himself Slim Shady, Eminem and even Jimmy ‘B-Rabbit’ Smith (well, he played him in a movie—loosely based on his own life). Either way he was still a skinny, white rapper from Detroit. What’s in a name?

Sunday 2 October 2011

I can only imagine...


Do you ever stop to wonder, is this my life? As a teen I wrote a song that starts with that line. As I’ve grown older, I’ve thought more and more about it. Sometimes I do—stop to wonder. Somehow I think I’m not the only one.


Recently a friend of mine has gone through a divorce. I remember one day that friend told me they never imagined their life turning out like this. I’d like to think nobody approaches any marriage thinking it will end in divorce. I think there are probably many things we don’t ever imagine experiencing.


I’ve been mulling over this idea for months now. I never imagined my life being like this. In a million years I couldn’t have imagined myself being so blessed. I have an amazing husband who loves me so completely and is a better man than I ever thought I could find or deserve. I have a full-time job in an industry that has captivated me for most of my life and it has allowed Sterling and I to live comfortably despite him not being able to work while we wait for his paperwork to be finalized. I have some tremendous friends I know I could count on for anything whether it’s help battling a crisis or tackling an adventure. I speak to and/or see my parents regularly and as the years have passed, I’ve finally recognized how much of a blessing that is. My body isn’t perfect but it allows me to go for runs with my husband and play sports regularly. I know that’s a huge blessing just to have an able body. I battled with my body much of my life but think I’m finally coming to terms with the extra weight it likes to carry. It lets me run, skate, eat, breathe and wrap my arms around my loved ones. For that, I am grateful.


I really do feel so blessed. I’m afraid of coming across as a braggart but would be remiss to not openly express my gratitude for the blessings I know my loving Heavenly Father has given me. I don’t for a second take any of it for granted. I know life can get hard. Really hard. I’ve been blessed to see that up close and personally and am even more blessed to have made it through and learned from those hard experiences.


I’ve also been in close proximity of dear friends and loved ones going through really hard experiences. Sometimes I think it’s harder to watch a loved one get blindsided by a hard time than to go through it firsthand.


And that’s life. Whether it’s vicarious or firsthand, we’re here to gain experience and in turn, experience joy. Sometimes the road to the latter can just feel too long and full of obstacles though.


This is my life. I have an idea of where I want it to go but know that there are other factors that can steer it in different directions. I’ll keep making goals and choices to try to lead to the life I’d like to have but know full and well that when we least expect it, life can turn out so different than we ever imagined. And sometimes that’s the greatest blessing of all.