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.

Whilst In Sienna, 2009

Day nineteen: A picture of your favorite book.

     Like the Flowing River, by Paulo Coelho.
I actually stumbled upon this book as I was drifting down the cobblestone streets of Sienna, Italy.  I wandered into a little bookshop and, through nothing that could be called coincidence, my eyes fell upon its title.  The next thing I knew I was sitting on a little brick wall in the middle of the town's square, surrounded by  people speaking Italian, enjoying gelatos, and happily strolling down the flowered alleys, reading a book that must have been written just for me.
     The book is a collection of thoughts, reflections and short stories from Coelho's own life.  Coelho is an incredible, world renowned Brazilian author who has traveled everywhere on the earth.  His life is incredible--he's lived so many places, experienced so many things, spoken in front of so many different audiences, connected with so many different people, and yet he still sees the simple majesty, priceless lessons, and tiniest miracles wherever he goes.  I love it because all of these short messages are real, true experiences and reading them helps me to see life in a different, brighter light.  His writing is beautiful, poetic, understandable, relate-able, and enjoyable.  It's full of incredible life wisdom, and yet it's so simple.  If I had could transform my personality into a book, this would be it.

One quote out of my countless favorites:  "While separating the wheat from the chaff, and not allowing ourselves to be discouraged by the enormous number of charlatans in the world, I think we should ask ourselves again: what are we capable of?  And then, quite calmly, go off in search of our own immense potential."

If you're looking for a short, easy read that will bring you happiness, further open your eyes to the beauty of the world, and help you be a better person, this is my formal recommendation.

Endings

Day thirteen: A picture of something you wish you could change.

           There are a lot of things that I wish I could change.  I wish I could change the world into a better, peaceful place where people simply believed in being good.  I wish I could change my height, the cost of gas, the media, and how long the Autumn season lasts.

      But today--today is different.  Today I wish I could change endings.

      You see, everyone's life is a story.  (Hence the blog title.)  And everyone's story consists of many different chapters.  Some chapters are long, some are short, some are sweet, some are sad.  Everyone's chapters vary, spanning a wide range of painful, trying, scary, lonely, to infatuating, lovely, peaceful, exciting, or joyous.  Every reach of emotion these chapters touch is essential and important.  Opposition and trials are indeed a great blessing, and that is not ever something I wish I could change.

      But the endings.

      What about the chapters that close in a way that is so unsatisfying that you can't possibly make sense of it?  What about the chapters where the main character in your life suddenly walks away, only to be glimpsed here and there as a total stranger, and you never found out what really happened, or how things might have been different if times had only been.... What?  If they had only been what?  That's the problem--you don't know.  And of course you will continue on with your story, searching inward for some self-made closure, learning from it what you can and beginning anew, where happiness will be waiting for you just around the corner.

      But there is still that tiny little part of you that yearns for the hidden story, wondering why things happened the way they did, what compelled that person to act in such a way, if things could have been different if you had acted more maturely, if your ending was really how it was supposed to turn out, etc.

      In some cases, these questions will be soothed further in the future when you will look behind you and understand the purpose and necessity behind these things.

      But some will not.  The fact still remains that at that moment-- the moment when you came to realize that things have changed and you must close a chapter that was so much a part of you and claimed so much of your heart, never to open it again-- that it was an ending that made your heart sad.

      And that is what I wish I could change.