I want to meet the cow that made this.

I want to love life so much

that when I eat ice cream,

my first wish is to meet the cow that made it

so I can give her props.

How nice it would be

to be so easily touched

by the little things in life,

and to be so aware

of where thanks are due.

My heart wants to sigh.

This weekend,

I hiked in Little Cottonwood Canyon.

To Cecret Lake

in the Albion Basin, to be exact.

Doesn't that sound romantic?

We went up past the ski resorts,

leaving the summer heat at the foot of the mountain.

I thought the immobile ski lifts

complimented the scenery perfectly,

standing as tall and majestic

as the ancient pines.  

Admittedly,

I spent a lot of the hike

pretending we were in Switzerland,

wanting to sing out

that the hills were alive with the sound of music.

Seriously.

Amidst the boulders

sprung up thick carpets 

of brilliant, unassuming wildflowers.

I gave elegant names to especially pretty views,

like Anne of Green Gables would do,

like

Alpine Lea

and

Stony Slope.

I gotta say,

brooks really do laugh

as they trip and fall over stones on their way.

That's the only way

to describe it.

Marauder's Map.

Sometimes I think of God

as keeping track of us all

with a big old Marauder's Map.

I thought of this tonight.

The cool darkness of sunset

tugged at me inexorably,

and so I left my empty house

to go for a walk.

I saw the most amazing moon,

taking its throne 

as the last memories of day

disappeared over the distant western mountains.

And I contemplated how singularly dear

is the whack of a tennis racquet

and the soft screeching of shoes on a court.

I watched my shadow walk next to me,

both of us caught in sad nostalgia.

And I thought,

"No one on this earth has any idea where I am.

Only God, with His Marauder's Map,

can see me."

The Sights of My Own Real Life.

I've been reading a lot more lately,

and riding public transportation.

Usually at the same time.

But sometimes on the bus,

I'll be reading Jane Eyre,

and my eyes flick up and catch upon something.

The mountains,

the sky.

A little girl staring off into the distance

as if deep in thought.

Today, it was an older woman with a pink walker

and a young man grasping tightly a metal lunchbox

that had Edward & Bella on it.

And in those moments,

I practically throw the book down,

and give myself over to looking.

Because there is something that whispers

This is real

and you don't want to miss it.

What is a made up story

to seeing the sights of my own real life?

The book will be there for me later,

but for now,

I want to appreciate

what is tangible

and fleeting.

Among the Public.

I have a hard time

when people ask me what my hobbies are.

I'm alive,

and I enjoy that.

Isn't that enough?

But lately I've realized

that one of my hobbies

is going to free public events.

Parades

Carnivals

Festivals

Museums

Concerts

Fairs

Etc.

I like to go and be among the people

and walk around,

looking at things

that I've never seen before

and will never see again.

You might could say it's boring,

but that's what makes it so enjoyable.

Today,

I went to the Orem Summerfest.

I walked around,

learned about bookbinding

from a kind, earnest man,

sat inside a helicopter,

ate a snowcone,

and rode the swing ride.

And that's what I like to do.

image

Magic Afternoon.

Today, I experienced no less than

a perfect afternoon.

The sky was bigger than life,

and the clouds

and the mountains.

Everything was swathed in luxurious bolts of green grass.

It all looked especially miraculous.

I spent all day under high canopies of leaves,

in secret nooks between evergreen trees,

adventuring on roofs.

A blue bird flew into a tunnel,

and I ran after to see what it would do.

It was warm and breezy.

I got a hot dog for lunch,

and later,

an ice cream cone,

which dripped all over me.

And I laughed.

Everything was full of wonder,

and I let it touch me.

[viz]

[via]

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Satisfied.

This week, I walked through the place 

where I lived as a freshman.

Me in my freshman apartment.

I felt a bit nostalgic.

But I said to myself,

"I wouldn't trade who I am now

to go back to this,

good as it was."

Then I was talking to Genevieve about

Anne Shirley's age-old question:

"Which would you rather be?

Divinely beautiful,

or dazzlingly clever,

or angelically good?"

I realized that my answer was

None of the above.

 I'd rather stay the way I am.

Then today was kind of a hard day for some of us.

There were several group hugs in my apartment.

And somehow I said to myself,

"I'm glad life is hard.

It's better this way."

.

.

.

It's nice sometimes

to realize that you're satisfied.

That's just too good.

Yesterday was Good Friday.

And it was a good Friday.

...

When I see something I like on facebook,

I tend to comment,

"That's just too good."

I often feel like life is too good to be true.

Like God forgot that life is supposed to be terrifying,

and so He didn't hide the good parts away fast enough:

we got a peek.

But really,

life at its truest and realest

is the good life,

not some faceless feeling of terror.

So I should never be surprised.

Noticing.

In high school,
I had an hour on the bus every day after school.

I was never bored,
looking out the window
to notice the things that changed
from day to day.

...

In life, there are things to be noticed.

Like when you're talking to someone,

the muscles jumping

underneath their face,

the shadow of their eyelashes

on their cheeks

when the light hits right,

the sound of a boy's hand

rubbing his five o'clock shadow.

Something old, something new.

Today, I crossed campus at early dusk.

I was in the southeast corner,

where the science buildings are,

where I never go.

But it was so beautiful that I murmured out loud,

I love this place.

I was on my way to the Brimhall Building,

the only building left on the main campus

that I had never been inside.

Part of me didn't want to go in,

to maintain some sense of mystery.

A couple of years ago,

there were tons of buildings 
that were still mysteries to me,

but slowly I've explored most of them.

At length, I decided I'd do it.

What else is your last semester of school for,

if not to do things you've never done?

Immediately, I loved it.

It's charmingly old,
and you know how I feel about old things.

The floor tiles that reminded me of my elementary school,
the wooden banisters,
the inconvenient layout.

I think I loved it,
because it was new.

A little treasure.

A little pocket of something I loved,
held back for me
to make me happy
right at the end.

And I'll sing hallelujah!

Yesterday, a song meandered into my mind.

And I'll sing hallelujah,

and you'll sing hallelujah...

What song was that?

I could hear it in my mind,

but I didn't know where I'd heard it,

or where to find it.

After a long time, I found it,

and it was more than I bargained for.

This is an old type of singing from the American South,

called Sacred Harp, 

or shape-note, singing.

There is no accompaniment,

no audience,

no formal conductor.

In the musical notation,

each note has a shape,

so that people who didn't know anything about music

could still sing.

Sacred Harp is everything I love about America,

and about being human.

Nothing but plain ordinary folks,

with the sod of this great earth 

running through their veins,

facing each other,

singing about everything in their hearts,

about what makes a poor, beat up life

a life worth living.

Today I was mad,

and I put Hallelujah on.

And I thought about how sweet it will be to see God

and how meaningful the smallest things really are.

Deep down in the mud is where you can see life 

for what it is.

Too good to be true.

It's been a while since I've felt up to writing a post about love.

But today I lay on the floor and listened to my roommates singing.

And I thought:

"This is too good."

I think that a lot, actually.

Because that's how love feels.

Like there must be some trick

because it is too nice

and too lovely,

and things in our world

just can't be that way.

As one who doesn't quite always see life as rosy,

you can trust me:

I'm here to tell you that life is really that good.

Aspirations.

My greatest aspiration is to be somebody's wife,

Ezra Taft Benson & Flora.

and to be someone's mom.

Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi

When I think of the sweetest part of life,

I think of being close to people.

I want to be close to people

and help them

in the most personal way.

I want to decorate the house for Thanksgiving,

and make it warm

and help them feel like the world is exciting and good.

I want to sit at the kitchen table and listen.

I want to pack lunches.

Life is hard enough;

I want to make it softer and brighter.

There is more substance to you when you live for other people.

I hope that in these desires you will find me beyond reproach.

That has made all the difference.

Yesterday, the weather forecast called for rain.

And I was glad!

It don't rain much here,

so it's a welcome relief from endless sunshine.

Who likes that?

The best thing about rain is these:

Rain boots.

Galoshes.

Puddle boots.

Wellies.

They instantly make any outfit better.

So I had on ma boots,

and started my walk to school.

Rain turned to hail

and hail turned to snow.

People started grumbling

and then came the incensed facebook statuses.

But I felt happy all day long.

I stomped and trekked wherever I wanted,

all the while my feet remaining dry and warm,

without a reason to grumble or update my status.

And I was free to get taken away by the stillness

and the wonder

and other feelings that sound trite when you write about them,

but which really happen.

And I attribute all those good feelings

to my rain boots.

They really made all the difference.

Take a little extra time.

Yesterday, I sat down on a bench on campus

and tried something new:

The bench by the trashcan in the middle of the picture,
to be exact.

doing one thing at a time.

Somehow I hadn't caught on to this,

but I guess not everyone multitasks

all

the

time

like I do.

Weird.

But it was a hard day,

so I just decided to eat lunch.

Just eat lunch.

No work

or homework

or even friends to talk to.

It was nice outside,

and the leaves were blowing around.

Let's pretend BYU looks like this.

I practiced looking at each person that walked by

and saying,

"Everyone is just as good as everyone else."

And I thought of this:

"It may seem odd to think of having 

a relationship with ourselves,

but we do.

Some people can't get along with themselves.

They criticize and belittle themselves all day long

until they begin to hate themselves.

May I suggest that you

reduce the rush

and take a little extra time to get to know yourself better.

Walk in nature,

watch a sunrise,

enjoy God's creations,

ponder the truths of the restored gospel,

and find out what they mean for you personally.

Learn to see yourself as Heavenly Father sees you--

as His precious daughter or son

with divine potential."

President Uchtdorf

"Of Things That Matter Most"

It really worked.

Mountains to Climb.

In the Book of Mormon,

in Helaman,

in the fifth chapter,

in the forty-third verse,

I learned something.

"And it came to pass that when they cast their eyes about,

and saw that the cloud of darkness was dispersed 

from overshadowing them,

behold,

they saw that they were encircled about,

yea every soul,

by a pillar of fire."

Sometimes it seems like I'm overshadowed by darkness,

but when I look around,

I realize that I'm encircled in light.

It's funny,

like when I feel sadder than sad,

and it's harder than hard,

but suddenly through the smog comes the thought,

"I'm so glad that I have mountains to climb."

The Good Life.

Today, I lived the good life.

Wedding dress shopping with a beautiful bride,

But Lizzie's way prettier than this.

penne rosa in a thick, delicious sauce from Noodles & Company,

If food is the best part of life (and I daresay it is) and sauces are the best part of food (and I daresay then are) then sauces are the best part of life.

cruising around in a Ford Windstar,

This is the one we had when I was a little kid.

a pirate shark beach towel from Walmart,

Mine has 3 sharks, not 4, and a pirate ship in the background.

Cajun food at dinner group with my favorite people,

S.I.M.P. (Squirrels in my pants),

How can I qualify for government grants?

doing the dishes whilst sharing headphones with Jessica,

Doing dishes with another person is my favorite. Especially when we listen to "You'll Be in My Heart (Pop Version)."

spontaneous trip to Coldstone with Crandall & Chelston,

Putting Heath bar in it is the best.

talking about why we love America whilst watching a parking lot fireworks show,

This scene from The Sandlot exemplifies my love for America.

kitchen dance party with Kimmie to celebrate our one year friend anniversary,

We danced to songs from Up.

and then running through the sprinklers.

Self, great day!