Engaged!

I am engaged!

Details forthcoming.

I've Been Lying

Remember when I was told I'd really let myself go at the gym?  Remember all the lessons I learned?

I did learn those lessons. I did feel them.

But I'd be lying if I said that man's words don't still haunt me every time I step into the gym.  I've lied many times when someone asks me if it bothers me when I see him and I respond that it doesn't.  I've lied to that man when I avoid his gaze instead of talking with him.  I should explain to him that I'm not avoiding him to treat him with cruelty, but I'm avoiding him because I am afraid of what he will say.  I'd be lying if I said I have never looked in the mirror and thought, "Man, I can't go to the gym when so-and-so will be there because he'll see how much I've let myself go."

Truth is, I have gained a little bit of weight (not a lot, but enough to make me uncomfortable) trying to figure out my new eating regime with the medication I'm on to try and heal my Laryngopharyngeal Reflux.  The medication makes my belly ache a lot, and I haven't learned to distinguish between hunger and ache if that make sense.  I haven't "let myself go," but I have had to learn to let go of myself.  I've had to let go of my pride so I can get my health in order outside of physical fitness.

I don't like the way I feel right now.  I am determined to change it.  I am grateful that after only two months I am able to gather the energy it will take to be my best self even if it is more of a challenge while my reflux damage is healing (side effects make my joints and muscles rather achy rather quickly, my head achy, and I'm exhausted all.the.time).

While I am figuring my new routine out, the last thing I should be doing is worrying about what other people are thinking of my current state of fitness.  I want to shout to the world about why I am currently a little off, which I guess I'm doing by blogging about it.  But I can't literally shout it to everyone.  And I'm embarrassed.  I know I shouldn't be, but that doesn't stop the way I feel.  No one can see what I'm going through inside mentally and physically, yet everyone can see my muffin top doth overfloweth.   

This experience is giving me a little perspective I've never had before.  I don't have any words of wisdom or cutesy things to say about what we/I should learn from this.  Maybe I will eventually, but right now all I've got to say is, "I'm trying," and, "I will be honest...to myself and to you."  I let this thing control me for a little while.  No more.  I'm taking the reigns. 

Wooden Walls

In Utah (or is this everywhere?), there is an over-abundance of basements with wood-like paneling from floor to ceiling in the basements.  What is this about?!  I find it totally disturbing.  And tacky.  I don't get it.

Kinda like this, only cheaper looking and darker wood

Working Out Spirituality

Sitting alone in church on Sunday, I found myself actually pondering matters of spirituality instead of being distracted with my company.  Sometimes I love distractions a little too much.

I always squirm at the phrase, "All or nothing," when it comes to spirituality, no matter the religion.  Every week I hear from a speaker or someone commenting in class something like, "I know it is hard to read your scriptures every day, but we've got to.  If we don't, we can't be close to Heavenly Father."

I cannot speak for everyone, but the God I believe in loves all of us.  The God I believe in is my father and my creator.  The God I believe in is like my own earthly father in that He will welcome me into His arms whenever I run to Him, even if I've been gone awhile.

I sat there, listening, trying to make sense of it all.  Trying to find a way to talk with people when they come to me with heartbreaking questions like, "If I can't be all in, then I guess I have to be all out?  I want this, but I just can't do it all."

We are human.  We are prone to err.  Isn't it ironic that we find ourselves constantly striving for perfection while realizing that "perfect" is a goal we will never reach?

Thinking of the perfect spirit lead my thoughts to the perfect body to house that spirit.  Honestly, I've been struggling with my dear Gym lately.  Oh, I still make it 4-6 times per week, but due to the medication from my recent diagnosis (which is totally minor, I'll admit, but a doozie of a blow on the body of someone who has N-E-V-E-R taken medicine), hunger is my constant companion no matter what I do/don't eat, my digestive system is a hater, and exhaustion plagues at least half of my day every day.  What do all those things lead to?  Disappointment and lack of motivation. The crazy thing about disappointment is that it leads to more disappointment.  You've got to just pull your head up and keep fighting and plugging along or you'll succumb to a world of downers.  Doggoneit, I'm tired.  I wonder if all these doctor's appointments and medicines are worth it.  I never felt any pain except a sore throat after singing too long before the medicine and now I feel crummy most of the time on this medication.  At my last exam the doc hadn't noticed any improvement in the state of the acid damage around my vocal chords.  Um?  Don't worry, I have my first vocal therapy session on Thursday and I will sure as heck be talking about it.  In the mean time, I've been pretty down on myself and struggling more than I care to admit...which is still quite minor when I compare myself to most of the world's population.  The hope is that the medicine will heal the damage and the therapy will help my vocal chords and then I can learn to adapt my life to the world of laryngopharyngeal reflux without medication.  Fingers crossed.

Back to the point.

How do we achieve the perfect body?  Eating right and working out.

How do we achieve the perfect spirit?  Partaking of the spirit of Christ and seeking additional opportunities to use that spirit to lift the world around us.

Kind of the same.

Just as you don't immediately die if you don't eat right or work out all the time, your spirit doesn't immediately die if you aren't constantly reading scriptures and praying.

Will you feel more physically healthy if you eat right and work out one day per week versus zero days?  Absolutely.

Will you feel more spiritually healthy if you read your scriptures and pray one day per week versus zero?  Absolutely.

Do those benefits increase with each additional day of trying to increase your physical or spiritual health?  Absolutely!

Do what you can.  If all you've got, if all you can possibly muster, is three days per week, then, by golly, you are doing three days per week!  God's love for us is not, and has never been, "all or nothing."

Obviously the way to be closest to your Father in Heaven is to be working your hardest daily.  We must recognize we are not all on the same level.  Would you ask a 50-year old overweight man to do the same routine as an Olympic gymnast?  No.

Do your best.  Only you and your Father in Heaven know what that is.

Live long and prosper.

 

New York City: If A Picture Paints A Thousand Words

When do you Reveal the Deal-Breakers?

I've talked about deal-breakers before.

You can talk about what your deal-breakers are amongst your girlfriends, from your run-of-the-mill, "No finger nail biters," to your, "I couldn't handle if a man/woman had been bankrupt," to your "I couldn't handle it if a man/woman had been arrested several times."

The big question is this: Do you save the deal-breakers for love, or do you reveal them up front?

I've always been of the opinion that, in my relationships, I want to know up front.  I understand there is a time and a place and a relationship of trust one must establish, but I want pretty straight-forward pretty darned quickly.  If you've got a past or a struggle you are working on, I want to know.  That way, I can work with you instead of feeling as if you have been keeping secrets from me or waiting to bombard me.  Perhaps you can factor in a few past experiences that violated my trust in a big way (don't worry, my current beau is completely worthy of all of the trust he has earned, and, yes, he had to work hard to earn it) if you want to know the basis of my opinion.  I want to see all the cards on the table to fully evaluate the situation.  There may not be a lot of logic in relationships, but I sure like to pretend there is.

I have friends, however, that want to be in love before they reveal the deal-breakers. They want to know a person sees who they are through those flaws.

What do you think?

To See the Face of God

I know that there is a higher power that loves and watches over me.

To most Americans, God is our higher power.  For others, that power is Krishna, Buddha, Zeus, the list goes on.  Reading this knowing that God is my higher power, imagine whatever is your higher power.

Because of the great example of unconditional love that my earthly father sets for me, I am certain that my Heavenly Father is guiding my paths and protecting me daily.  My center, my constant, is knowing there is a higher power in the universe.  Several personal events have occurred in my life that leave me with no question as to the existence of higher power – the impossible has been made possible, the warmth of comfort has spread over me like a blanket in times of cold despair. 

Gymnastics changed my life.  More importantly, my gymnastics coach, Pastor Brian Anderson, changed my life.   I sometimes feel I use the analogy of the gymnastics coach too often, but I can’t stop seeing everything crystal clearly in these terms.  Imagine God as your gymnastics coach.  He teaches you strength-building conditioning, flexibility exercises, drills for form and stamina all before teaching you actual gymnastics skills because you need a foundation to build upon.  Once he teaches you a skill, he will stand there, spotting you with all the strength he has to help you successfully complete the task at hand without falling.  Once he knows in his gut you can do it on your own, he steps away.  What happens then?  Well, most often what happens at least once is that our faces, hineys, or bellies end up on the floor in a heap.  For our own betterment, the coach watches us fall.  He is there to scoop us up in his arms in times of true, desperate injury, however most often we are merely bumped or bruised.  In my own experiences as a coach, this was the most difficult thing for me, yet I knew if I didn’t step back and let the gymnasts try the skills on their own, they would never learn to succeed.  What I wanted more than anything was to step in and protect them!  But what brought me joy unlike any other was watching those moments the gymnasts succeeded!  The look on someone’s face as they complete their first handspring vault and you both run towards each other squealing and jumping up and down is pure bliss.      

I imagine my father in heaven much the same way – teaching us the foundation principles, giving us guidance and help, yet stepping back so we can truly learn what this life is all about.  Will we fall?  Absolutely.  The key is to get back up and keep trying instead of laying there in that miserable lump cursing the coach who let us fall.   Much like the coach who watches us stand on the end of the balance beam, hesitant to try a back-tuck dismount for the first time, God is empathetic and understanding of each decision we make and why…he knows our hesitancies, our discomforts, our strengths. 

Some of you out there wonder how God could let children be harmed, how He could let loving parents die in car accidents, how He could let pure evil like Hitler reign.  I do not have answers for that.  I wish I did.     

What I can say is that I have a divinity inside of me.  Many times I have been pulled aside and hugged in a tearful embrace as someone shares with me how grateful they are for the influence of the goodness and light that radiate from me.  When I was 17, a man who appeared to be ancient to me placed his arms upon my shoulders, piercingly looked into my eyes and said, “The eyes are the gateway to the soul.  You have beautiful eyes.  You have a beautiful soul.”  This light is a gift, a blessing.  Again, I cannot answer as to why my life has been gifted this and not gifted to an afflicted child in a third-world country.  The answer is beyond my comprehension. 

I share this with you because the events of the world have left me torn and confused for many years.  There are ideas and principles in the LDS church that I don’t understand or agree with.  I have a desire of knowledge, although I am far from a knowledge in most things.  But above all else, I firmly know my Heavenly Father loves me.  I know he loves every single one of us in a way that is absolutely incomprehensible to us.  I know my life is wonderfully blessed because of the principles and guidelines I have followed as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  There is a place for everyone in the Church if they want it.  Whether in 100% agreement or not, I know this is where I need to be.  I know that we fumble around on this earth and as long as we are trying to, wanting to be good people, the Lord will understand.  To love another person is truly to see the face of God.  To love another person is the divine higher power in each of us.  

Life on the Island of Misfit Toys: Another Guest Post for The Cultural Hall Podcast

After writing my last post for The Cultural Hall Podcast, a bigger issue came to light than that of which I was writing: Why are grown single adults of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints often treated as if they are adolescents?  As one of our readers commented, there is “…the state of arrested development that LDS singles often live in. We age, beholden to the same rules and expectations placed on us at age 12, without the benefit of the doubt that we actually matured beyond age 12.”

If you want to read more, and I promise it is a lot more optimistic than this first paragraph sounds, head on over to The Cultural Hall Podcast website.

What Happens When 5 Mormons Dressed as Nuns Perform in a Baptist Church?

Just so you can’t say I didn’t tell you –

It’s time for me to again entertain the masses *cymbal crash* as a singing, tap-dancing, baton-twirling, ballerina nun.  

The cast members of Nunsense, including me, were on ABC4 this morning.  

The musical comedy, runs tonight, tomorrow, and Saturday (March 21, 22, and 23) each night at 7:30 pm at the First Baptist Church on 3831 S. 2700 W.  Tickets are $7 each. 

To quote the show, "Though we're on our way to heaven, we're here to raise some hell!" 

Hit and Run

One year ago today I bought my car.

Exciting, I know.

Today I got a car wash in celebration of a fantastic first year together, then lamented at the paint-cracked, scratched rear bumper from my hit-and-run.

I never told you about that, did I?

I headed home for the evening January 16, all excited to have a girly evening, involving the fantastic Leah Jacobs doing my hairs for me.  I almost hate that there is something so wonderful about the feeling of being pampered and sprucing up with a little cut/color.  Silly money-wasting things like this should not feel so blasted fantastic!  To make the evening even better, I always pick us up some dinner for us, which requires commuting a different direction than normal.

Murray State Street during rush hour can make you feel as if you are a chess piece on a board with three times as many pieces as there should be, shuffled against your will in a general direction by an unseen hand.  With my destination in sight, I pulled up one-car's length behind the car in front of me at a stop light, as per proper-driving rules.  Yes, I'm a law-abiding driver to a fault. 

Before I could realize what was happening, I found myself slamming on my brakes, my gym bag flying off the seat, and my head flipping backwards into the headrest.  There is a moment of panic no one can quite describe in a situation like that.  To say I was an idiot is mild.  I put my car in park and got out in the middle of four rush-hour lanes of traffic.  The scruffy young riff-raff who hit me did the same.

His license plate dangled from one overly-jagged screw on his ghetto early-90s tan compact truck.  My little blue Honda was covered in winter salt and sludge, but I could clearly see the cracked paint, the outline of a license plate, and two screw-punctures exactly where his license plate met my bumper.  He smiled and said, "Well, there's no damage, so I'm fine if you're fine!"
"Umm...there actually is damage."
"Really?  I don't see any?"
"Umm..yes there is, right here. (I gesture to the two holes and the scratches as I try to brush off the grime)."
"Oh, okay, so you wanna pull over into that parking lot right there and get information?"
As I looked down at his license plate to memorize the digits thinking that I'd be an idiot not to, I responded, "Yeah...yeah...we're gonna have to do that."

Riff-Raff got back in his truck with his tattered clothes and equally bedraggled looking company.  I signaled to turn left, made sure he was behind me, then turned.  Would you believe that as soon as I turned left, he took off?  Yep.  And would you believe that in my panic I forgot all but the first three digits of his plate?

Lesson learned.  My estimate for the damage is only $600, which isn't even worth submitting to the insurance, but it it the principle of the thing, you know?  Knowing what I know about insurance, I would have, in all likelihood, let that scraggly young man go if he'd have let me know his situation instead of dishonestly running off.

I'm a big believer in the Golden Rule, "Do unto others as you would have others do to you."  All I can do is shrug my shoulders and keep smiling.  C'est la vie!

I know, I know - it really isn't that bad, but keep in mind this photo was taken in the dark and you can't see both punctures clearly, the outline dents of the violater's plate, or the cracked paint running the length of the bumper.