Gravity

Homework: Do any or all, or be inspired. (If your real life is too real right now, be your own private tutor and do an assignment in your head.)

~Search through the drawer in your heart. Are there memories that shaped your self image? Write about a time when your feelings were hurt. Why do you think you still remember the incident? How does that help you understand yourself better?

~Describe yourself from a friend's point of view. Does she know the real you? Do you want her to?

~As a trusted mentor, write a letter advising yourself what to do about a current situation in your life. Prompt: "Dear Friend, I know you're worried about ____. Knowing you like I do, I'm sure you feel____, but I trust your instincts. You seem so____."

My homework assignment yesterday was to write about an experience that shaped me into the person I am today. That was so easy! I immediately sat down and wrote a post about a really traumatic moment in my life when I was 15. It was a fabulous bit of writing, in all modesty, one which even made me shed a tear as I wrote it. I waited to publish it so I could rework a few things, listened to sad music, cried a bit more--and then slapped myself in disgust.

Of all the things I've experienced in my life, the thousands upon thousands of happy moments, why would I go right to something sad and believe that it shaped me more than the good things? So stupid and self-indulgent. Like that idiotic Janis Ian song, "At 17". I hate that song! And I can't stand being around people who are always dwelling on past failures and tragedy. I feel sorry for them, not because of what they've experienced (though I do actually feel sorry for that), but because they got stuck there in their heads. Why would I want to go there and wallow in it? Do I have sad stories? You bet I do--some that would leave you speechless. Do you have sad stories? Some that would make me grateful that I only had my little traumas to deal with. But dwelling on those things just pulls us into their gravity, sucking the very life out of us until there is nothing but despair and hopelessness.

I consciously choose not to go there. I've got lots to be happy about, and in spite of the occasional blip over the years, I've had a remarkably happy life. Those little moments that are almost a blur because there are so very many of them, yet with enough impact that they have left smile lines on my face.

So I got out of bed this morning, threw on my walking clothes, popped in my ear buds and listened to The New Radicals, who never fail to put things into perspective for me. Then I deleted my old post and wrote this instead. I feel much better.

Overheard

Elvira: You're spending too much time playing Mafia Wars.
Kitty Boy: You. In my grill. Out (as he pushes away with his hand).

I found this inexplicably hilarious.

Book Review: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

I'm not taking a class at BYU this semester, and am instead going to focus on improving my writing. Check out the "School Days" button on the sidebar if you want to join me!

Homework: Pick one or the other, or be inspired. ~Read something on your book shelf for sheer pleasure.
~Blog about a book you've read over and over. Prompt: "I can rifle the pages of ____and easily find my favorite part about____."

Do you ever close a book that you've loved and just clutch it tightly to your chest when you've finished it? That's the mark of a truly beloved read and it is exactly what I did when I finished "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. I first heard of this book from my friend Pat, who read it following an actual visit to the Isle of Guernsey. We generally have very similar reading tastes, and the fact that she loved it was enough for me to put the next few days of my life in Mrs. Shaffer's capable hands.

The story is set in post-WW2 British Isles and is written in letter form, primarily between Juliet, a newspaper columnist/author, and a fascinating collection of people in her life. She is a bit lost concerning what to write about next when she receives a letter from Dawsey, a man on the Isle of Guernsey who has a used copy of a book that used to belong to Juliet. He contacts her through the address she wrote inside the cover, and that one letter changes her life and the lives of everyone surrounding both of them.

It's laugh out loud funny in many parts, and deeply moving in others. Though my mother-in-law was born and raised in England and spent her late teens and early twenties surviving WW2, I knew absolutely nothing about the Channel Islands or the events that took place there during the war. The voices of the characters came through so clearly it was almost as though they were reading their letters out loud right over my shoulder. Such an amazing story of survival in all respects--physically, socially, spiritually, and intellectually.

I nearly always check my books out of the library, but after reading this I had to have my own copy. It was a great read, and is also an amazing audio book. I still laugh when I think of my favorite quote from the book: "My friend Mrs. Maugery bought a pamphlet that once belonged to you too. It is called 'Was There A Burning Bush? A Defense of Moses and the Ten Commandments.' She liked your margin note: 'Word of God or crowd control???' Did you ever decide which?"

If you would like to see the other books that I've enjoyed, click on the Goodreads button on the right sidebar. I try to review them all and not just give a star rating. Your suggestions are most welcome, as I usually have three or four books going at a time anyway!

Weird

Just when I thought my life was as weird as it could get, it got a bit weirder tonight. I need some fresh air, so I'm headed over to Ambrosia to visit.

What the....?

I've been having a strange out-of-body experience lately. Or maybe it's more like an intense in-body experience. That's probably a lot more accurate.

I've never suffered from depression, even after I had my kids, which I am extremely happy about. I always said that I was way too busy to have a nervous breakdown or lie in bed for days on end, much as I would love to (not that anyone who suffers from depression wants to do any of that, just so we're clear on that point). But now that I'm feeling better, I think I was probably in somewhat of a depressed state for many of the last, oh, 19 years or so. Nothing too severe, but enough to dull a lot of what was going on around me, which honestly wasn't such a bad thing sometimes.

It was inevitable that I would eventually reawaken and take a good look around, and frankly, I'm a little shocked at what I see! Whose house is this? Since when do I like oak? Why is there wallpaper anywhere, let alone in my kitchen? Whose clothes are these? OMG! Whose thighs are those? You get the picture.

Focus, deep breaths, visualize happy times at the beach... I can accept that this is what my life looks like at this time. Yes, I did choose an impractical, tiny house--I can live with that. At least the antiques are quarter-sawn oak--they can stay. Wallpaper is awful, but I'm pretty good at stripping it off and will be more than happy to do it again. Accessories can do wonders for a T-shirt and jeans ensemble. Right, about those thighs... This is indeed your body, and it is still alive in spite of your gross negligence. Not to worry! That's why you walk and should probably start running stairs right after you finish this post. For every problem, there is a solution. I'm pretty sure that's a law of physics or something.

Hope my lights don't keep you up too late, Sue. I've got a bit of catching up to do.

Love On the Rocks

After 21+ years, it's a little hard sometimes to keep the spark going. A houseful of kids, pets, chores, and work take their toll. For years, Sweetie used to unwind by going for long hikes in the mountains, but I never went with him. The kids were too little to go with us, I had too much to do at home--there was always some reason why he hiked solo. Then he started having lots of problems with his joints, and even he didn't hike anymore.

Last night we had a big Philosophy department dinner at our chair's cabin up at Sundance. It's a gorgeous old place that his wife's parents built in the 40s, right on the creek up a private road. There were so many new faculty members that I had never met and I got to visit with the lovely ones I've known all these past 19 years. We had such a great time, and near the end several of us decided to take off on a hike to Stewart Falls.

I've been feeling so amazingly great lately, especially these last few weeks, that I was more than game for it. Tinkerbell joined us, and Sweetie and I took our first hike together in years. We walked on a private path until it joined up with the main trail, then about 1/2 mile beyond there we reached the falls. By this time it was getting pretty cool out, and the water was freezing coming off the rocks. But after teasing Tinkerbell that I would throw her in, she dared me to go under myself.

Completing this hike was huge for me. My joints didn't hurt at all, not even a little, for the first time in years. I walked across logs to cross streams and didn't fall in, which is also pretty rare, kept up a good steady pace, didn't even get out of breath because I've been walking so much lately. I did not make it all the way up to those falls just to walk back down again. So I walked right into that water and let it drench me. It was definitely cold, but euphoric in a certain respect. Then Tinkerbell hopped under too. Sweetie thought we were both insane and was not tempted to join us.

It was dark by the time we reached the cabin, with a bright white moon coming over the mountain. While our lovely hostess let Tinkerbell soak her cold feet in some warm water, I walked down to the meadow to drive the van closer to the house. The whole way down, the words to Jem's song "Got It Good" kept running through my mind. Having a good attitude is important, but having my health return makes life worth living again. I truly am a lucky girl.

Rock On Drummer Boy

Last night Sweetie and I spent the evening at BYU attending the new student/parent barbeque. It was so much fun! There were thousands of people there--the line stretched from the west end of Helaman Field all the way through the southeast gate and up the street in Helaman Halls, and it stayed that long for an hour or more, no matter how many people went through. Somebody from BYUSA (student government) had good taste in music and was blasting it through some serious speakers. Lots of sun (I've got that summertime glow back again on my neck and face), happy kids, proud parents, energy galore. We even got to see him perform for the first time with the band as they rocked the house. Those 14 hours days have really paid off!

I was talking to a man behind us in line who also has a son in the Cougar Marching Band. I mentioned that I keep having to remind myself that this college experience is what we've been working for all these years and not a sad thing, so I don't get teary. He smiled at me and said he has been telling his wife the exact same thing. I'm sure I went to school with many parents there that I would never recognize now. We all looked the same! Sun damage, crow's feet, gray hairs here and there--all with stupid grins on our aging faces. It was hugely validating and inclusive, in an odd way. Further reinforcement that time has marched on was the tent where they sold shirts commemorating the 25th anniversary of BYU's 1984 national football championship season. I went to every one of those home games with my boyfriend. 25 years?! But we were just there!

So off he goes into the dorms this week. My wonderful kid is moving out. When he was a baby older moms would urge me to enjoy every moment with him because the time would fly by. I took their advice to heart, even though there were days that felt like an eternity all by themselves. I have loved every minute of being his mom! I'm enormously proud of him, and everyone who meets him thinks I'm totally justified. I will definitely miss having him here every day, but he's just up the street really. He is my partner in crime when it comes to our music tastes since no one else has an appreciation for 80s music and Michael Jackson around here.

You rock my world, Chris!