A Soul of Glass

I am fragile.

Not always, for my innocent heart has learned to build complex bridges and barriers of strength and independence--some of them grounded in eternal truth and faith, others simply facades.  Nevertheless, experience has taught me to become strong and I have learned how to stand and to fight and to control the mind's focus away from those things that could hurt me.

But deep down, a part of me still remains small and fragile, quiet and reserved.  I am such a sensitive creation, one who breathes in her surroundings with a vulnerable awareness of the world around me and of the paper thin barrier that guards my heart.

Sometimes I feel out of place, like a soul of glass amidst so many who have learned to become concrete...or even yet still as a child--like a young girl sent to journey in a world full of strange and frightful things who wishes to return home to her shining haven where she was always secure.

There are so many faces of this little self of mine.  There is this fragility, but then there is another who resents this quivering heart and demands one of fierce foundations that are far from easily affected--a heart that for once stands up and is not weak.
Then there is another, a face more mature and balanced, who mediates the two and says to the resenter, "Be patient with her.  she will grow strong in the end."
And I have no choice but to believe her and to move on, hoping that this sensitive and fragile girl will eventually learn to carry herself and no longer be so vulnerable.

Sigh.  I know it shall be.  And perhaps when that day comes, I will breathe another sigh of relief in knowing that all the security I ever needed I had inside me all along.

Sunlight

Day twenty-six: Something that makes you smile.

That moment, right before the sun starts to set, when the light hits the mountains and the world just seems to pause in a faint, shimmering glow; when time seems to stop for just a split second and in that moment everything is well, there is no hurt, and the world is pure and beautiful.
     It is in that tender mercy that I cannot help but smile, and it is in that smile that my countenance is not only changed but my soul is lifted.  I remember the beauty of the small things and the joys of an untainted life--of a world that is pure and timeless, where all things are just as they were meant to be.  And in that quiet moment as I pause to look at those golden hillsides, beaming with steadiness, truth, and brilliance, I once again believe that somewhere deep down within this corruptible world, a place of stillness still exists.  <3

Fears

Day twenty-five: Something you're afraid of.

Well, let's see.  Spiders.  Heights.  Creepers hiding under my car waiting to grab my leg.  You know, the usual stuff.  Surface. Common.

Then, we dig deeper.  Losing people.  Regrets.  Unfulfilled potential.  Pain.  Failure.  Being betrayed by someone who once promised that their love for you would never cease.

You see, my fears are not just fears.  They are heartaches, longings, sadnesses...They are my soul looking back on what I wish I could change and preparing myself for a future that inevitably holds more pain.  They are a solemn stillness and a resignation to life, knowing that difficulty will never truly cease.

But, while my fears may be many, there is one thing I do not fear: abandonment.

And so, while I sometimes wade through fear's dark caverns, I know that I will never be alone.  I will never be lost.  I will never be abandoned.  These fears are too much to carry on my own, but I was never left to do this on my own.

And this one little grain of faith buries all my fears deep down within me.  They still exist, but often times they lie dormant and do not threaten me.  I am free to embrace opportunities, to live openly, to improve, to love, to exist. I can face all situations with courage and trust, knowing my foundation and who it is that walks beside me.

No, I may not be brave on my own just yet.  But I am learning.  And as my foot steps along the pathway of faith, I will get there.

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear." ~Ambrose Redmoon

Possibility

I feel...full.  But an anxious kind of full.  Full of love and emotion and life, wandering inside of me amongst swirls of uncertainty, not sure exactly where to place my energies or how to offer up all of the things that I wish to give.


I feel...possibility.  As if I'm cradled in a shell, so small and fragile, yet wanting so much, yearning to realize the potential that it's been said I have the capacity to possess.


     May I really fly?
                Is it really possible?
                         Can I really bloom into grandeur and soar amongst the beauty of the earth, numbered
                                     among the guardians and the exemplars, shining with light and truth?


Nay, it cannot be true...

And then I look to the light and think, but wait...how could it not be?

Forgetting

       It's so silly, really--forgetting. It's such a simple and common cause for such an eternally significant effect.  The danger of it is that it is almost unnoticeable--like a long strand of hair that slips quietly into the flowing breeze, or the moment of subtle change from late sunset into twilight.  We walk on--small, shifting moments all around us--but our focus is elsewhere, and it may be days, months, or years until we realize how much we have let disappear.
How many times have we doubted ourselves simply because we forgot the celestial beings we really are?
How many times have we bitterly wondered why we are here because we forgot in whose plan we first trusted?
How many times have our hope and faith faltered because we forgot about the matchless gifts of love our Savior has given us every step of the way?
How many times have we repeated a bad decision because we forgot what we once learned?
How much longer will we continue on in a state of stagnation because we forget the greatness we were sent here to achieve?
       Could it be that perhaps remembering these things would be among our greatest tools for success?
       What difference would it make if every day we woke up remembering these eternal truths?
It would have made a world of difference in my own life.

       Of course, I did not know I was forgetting.  I was once so strong and grounded.  Yet while I never lost the knowledge nor doubted it was real, somehow as days went by, I forgot what it meant to me.  I forgot that this truth was exactly what it was--true--and that it is glorious, personal, and life changing.  I never stopped living the teachings, but I forgot for awhile the important of who I am in the plan of things.
       Oh, how much sadness and discouragement I could have been saved if I had but remembered!
But here I am, reminded once more of all those things I have learned.  I feel renewed, strengthened, and I am happy again.


And my soul sighs, because remembering feels like home.

Of a Heart Still in the Past

I hold on to shadows--to figments, to glimpses, to quiet memories from a lost summer's day. I live in them, in the fleeting haven wherein lies my love and my solace, a vapor of the past--constant, but never tangible, never real.  Yet they are mine--they unlock my chambers and walk through my walls.  They are my transient foundation, and the place my heart calls home, for it cannot rest now--not here, not yet.


Yet, is it enough?  Can one hold on to figments and memories and make a life out of their faint illumination?  Or does the past make one too weak to go on?


Perhaps shadows are traitors, victors of immobility, haters of the possible, lonely fiends who desire our eyes and yearn for our halt, preventing any reality that might replace them.


Ah, this may be true for some, but I am too fond of glimpses to deem it true for all.  No, my shadows are kind and giving.  They do not only show my tears of loss but tears of joy for love to come.  They are full of hope and assurance--an evidence that my dreams were possible once before and they will be possible once again.  They are a witness of love once true, and my heart is not alive without their residence.


And so I continue--one foot behind, one foot in front, carrying on with these memoirs I call my friends, walking forward till the day they will be my reality once again.

Props to My Home-Skillets

Day twenty-four: A picture of something that means a lot to you.

          It means a lot to me when people take the time to care.  I have been blessed with an incredible support system and I couldn't have made it to where I am in my life without each and every one of you.  Forgive the sentimentality, but I don't know how I got so lucky as to have so many amazing people come into my life.  YOU GUYS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!

Wendy: for getting me through high school, for helping me be spontaneous and enjoy life, for all those late night Voxer conversations, and for the sincere support and interest you show it what's going on in my life.

Hilary: for always sending thoughtful text messages when we're miles away, letting me know that I'll always have a friend in Centerville, Utah :)

Aly: for the countless times you've dealt with all my imperfections and sacrificed your sleep to stay up into the night listening to all my worries and issues, always giving the kindest attention and best advice, never judging me and standing by me as the best roommate I could ever ask for.

Ian: for always being a friend; for putting up with all my complaining about college (even though there was nothing to complain about) and for reminding me how to laugh and not take life so seriously.

DJ: for being 100% reliable and fully selfless--for always looking out for me and being the best shoulder to cry on, for showing me how to see the world through different eyes, and for helping me see the value of who I am when no one else could.  You are the best :)

Garrett: for supporting me and believing in me over all these 14 years, for adding perspective and spice to life, for never judging me and for helping me laugh, always bringin' back the good old days.

Courtney: for always being interested and checking in on the updates in my life, and for offering the smart and genuine advice that no one else can.

Danielle: for being  100% real and 100% there; for relating to me in all of my hard times and showing me that I never have to walk them alone.

Kyle: for the utter selflessness, patience, inspiration, and laughter you bring; for always giving so that I could have; for all the times you did the dishes so that I could finish my homework; for lighting up my hope and future, and for seeing me in the eyes of eternity and inspiring me to be the best possible version of myself.


Y'all don't even know how great you are.  Good karma is comin' your way. :)

Life Lessons from Tom

Day twenty-three: A picture of someone who inspires you.

          My grandfather, Thomas Kasparian.  He was a crazy yet incredibly brilliant Armenian who lived one of the most unique yet most inspiring lives I know.  He was born and raised on the streets of Bronx, New York, by parents who had fled to America to escape the Armenian genocide.  At the age of 16 he moved out on his own to Arizona, and eventually moved to California where he met my grandmother.
          Tom believed that there was no other way to live life but full throttle.  He had an uncanny ability to take a task and marry it with fun.  He lived his life almost in glory to God, recognizing that He's made all these great things and the best way to give thanks is to enjoy them!
          He had a sense of adventure in everything he did.  He walked to the beat of his own drum.  He had a different perspective on everything, and always thought way out of the box.  He was always honest; he was the epitome of the phrase "say what you want to say when you want to say it."
          He loved the gospel and he loved the priesthood.  He used it often and with so much faith that it forever affected all those who saw him.  There are so many amazing stories of him using his priesthood, like when he miraculously blessed a deaf and blind girl with her sight along with the return of 60% of her hearing, and commanded a girl, surely dead from being hit by a motorcycle on their street, to arise and live.  His testimony was vivid and apparent and he shared it with such color and power that people just sat on the edges of their seats while he spoke and loved it.
          He was always doing something for someone else, whether it was giving money or letting people stay at their home, as he did with 44 people over the years.  He was always faithful to my grandmother.  He never spoke any disparaging thought about anyone--that was simply unacceptable.  And people loved him for that--no one could ever tell him to walk a mile in their shoes, because they knew he already had!
          He was brilliant.  He double majored in Math and German, and spent his days as a genius computer programmer, working on military planes and later the space program.  He also helped develop the first online travel reservation system.  He had an intense and original love for history.  He passed on great pride for his Armenian heritage.  He also loved literature and had an unparalleled knowledge of the English language and a broad range of intellectual vocabulary.  He was creative and a home repair guru--if there was something you told him needed fixing, it'd always be done the next day.  He could restore some sort of functionality to almost anything.
          He was also a little bit crazy, like buying fuchsia polyester pants, taking his sons (age 16, 13, and 11) on a cross-country motorcycle trip of over 7,000 miles, and quitting his job while buying a mint-condition convertible Camaro on the very same day.
          He believed in his kids and supported them in everything.  He was the kind of dad that when his kids had long hair he said it looked great, or if they wanted to dance then he'd always pay the costume fee, of if his son Rhett loved Bon Jovi then he thought there must be something to it, so he started listening to Bon Jovi too.
          He wasn't perfect, but he was perfect in the important things.  He got baptized when he was 26 and never faltered in 56 years.  He died having lived a full life with no regrets.  What a man!

I hope I have some of him running on through me!


Love you, Gramps.