The one time of the year I eat meat

Some of you may remember this post, where I briefly explained my path to vegetarian/flexitarian-ism. And while it's safe to say that I am now a wholly-committed vegetarian, there is still one time a year wherein I partake of a minuscule amount of meat. In my case, meatballs. (And only three.)

Said day is my family's Easter (or, in this case, week after Easter) feast, in which my aunt makes all of my great-grandmother's Italian recipes. None of which are even remotely vegetarian. Thus, while my husband and daughter thoroughly enjoyed their sauceless homemade pasta, I partook of the sauce that is marinated with meat and my three meatballs (while abstaining from the ravioli), partially to ensure that the ghost of my great-grandma Rose would not haunt me what forever and ever amen, and partially because I still want to participate in my family's Easter ritual.

Behold, the holy feast.

Which all gave pause to some serious introspection about the cultural/emotional value that we all assign to food, but since I want to keep this light, I won't go into it. Though let it be said that this whole inner conflict would not exist if my aunt didn't make some damn good meatballs.

And somewhere, Rose (with a picture of Karl Malone clasped in her hand) is smiling.

Amen.

Thoughts on a wintry morning

There's something so serene about snowfall. When it seems to float and hover delicately in the air. For a brief moment, everything pauses and collectively exhales. It's equal parts quiet and powerful.

Lately, I've been feeling the opposite of this. And just, well, weary. There are a lot of things that I have been processing and struggling with internally that I'm not even going to begin to expound upon. (Mostly because I'm pretty damn tired of the backlash that all of my recent opinions have unwelcomely elicited.)

So I leave you with a few quotes from others that say what I wish I could, were I more eloquent (please also see this post, because it's pretty amazing)...

"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." 
- Oscar Wilde

"It is the mark of an intelligent mind to be able to 
entertain a thought without accepting it." 
- Aristotle 

"You will find it necessary to let things go; 

simply for the reason they are heavy." 

- C Joybell C

"Sometimes I have to remind myself that I don't 

have to do what everyone else is doing." 

- Unknown

"The first to apologize is the bravest. 

The first to forgive is the strongest. 

And the first to forget is the happiest." 

- Unknown

"After a long campaign, this is now a time for Americans 

to come together... We invite Americans everywhere, 

whatever their political persuasion, to pray for the 

President, for his administration and the new Congress 

as they lead us through difficult and turbulent times." 

- The First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles 

of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

The one where I keel over in exhaustion

You. Guys.

I am nearing the point where I know I will (figuratively) hit the wall. (I say figuratively, since I literally hit some wall or another every 1.45 days on average. Literally.) There's only so much a person can take on at once before said person (again, figuratively) explodes. (Luckily, I do not literally explode every 1.45 days on average. Because that seems like it would be quite painful. Not to mention messy.)

I am the type of person that thinks she can take on an inordinate amount of tasks and do them all perfectly and on time. Regretfully, this is not the case. As much as I hate to admit it, it's just not physically possible.

The sad part? There are so many more things I'd like to be able to do. So many more things on my to-do list that haven't even been thought about. And yet there's a part of me that knows that this time won't last forever. In fact, it will fly by. So as close as I am to that wall, I am grateful for this day, for this phase of my life.

Because, all craziness aside, it's a pretty great phase.

I am one lucky human, let me tell you what.

Thoughts about Africa, blogging, people, etc.

Four years ago, I was in a remote village outside of Kampala, Uganda. I was 22, fresh out of college and out of the country for the first time in my life. I had dreamed about and planned this trip for the better part of five years, and was ecstatic to be there.

My purpose was to serve. To serve in whatever capacity I could. To utilize whatever paltry abilities I had to support and to sustain. To get my hands dirty and work harder than I ever had before. And in the process of serving I found love. An intense, all-encompassing love for a country and for a people that left me irrevocably altered. I also found happiness... happiness in the face of suffering, destitution and loss. And that was a testament to me that happiness can be found anywhere, in spite of anything.

I've been contemplating this notion of happiness in spite of adversity a lot lately. I have a quote posted in my office by Anne Frank that reads: 

"Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy."

The reason why I like this statement is because it reminds me that there is so much to be happy about, even when I am sad and don't feel like it. I just think that it's so easy to focus on all of the craptastic things that happen in this world that it distracts and detracts us from our ability to be happy.

Because honestly, people can suck.

I work in an industry where I often am subjected to the worst parts of human nature (it's amazing how people will treat you and what they will say to you when it's not face-to-face, and even when it is face-to-face) and I have to deal with it all with a smile on my face. It's gets trying, to be sure. Mostly because I perceive this lack of politeness and tact to be disconcerting and something I wholly can't relate to. It seems like a lot of people only care about themselves and don't think of the bigger picture, which also bothers me. 

And then there's blogging... 

There's a blog I read from time to time that really just depresses me. Because it's always so negative. It's negative under the guise of being "real." Nine posts out of ten are downers, and I feel myself gleaning nothing from it. Which is why I have made up my mind not to read it anymore. (I just keep thinking it's going to get better, ya know? That one of these days it'll be enjoyable to read. And it's just not happening.) Conversely, I will readily admit that I tire of the blogs that read like Seriously So Blessed but are non-satirical (mainly because I cringe at all of the unintentional spelling and grammatical errors, not mention the self righteous sanctimony). But I choose not to read those blogs either.

The amazing thing about blogging is that we don't have to read what we don't want to read. We don't have to fill some sort of an English requirement or write an essay on what we've read. It's out there in the wide expanse of the interwebs and can never be completely erased. I personally prefer reading the blogs that teach me something. That enlighten me. That make me happy. I can think of a couple of blogs I read that portray the little delightful moments in life that are happy. That contain smiling photos of beautiful, strong women each with her own unique perspective of life. And I also know that these women have secret struggles and pains that they choose not to share with the masses, or do so only in part and passing. They choose to keep some parts of their lives private. And then are derided for doing so, for not being "real." Are their posts any less real because they focus on the happiness in their lives? Are they any less insightful? Granted there are some blogs out there that I find to be incorrigible. But how do I know what's going on behind closed doors? Who I am to say what they should or shouldn't write?

Personally, I'll admit, I like honesty. I like reading about real people who have real lives and real struggles. I know that I've written about a few of my own here. But I haven't written about all of them, nor do I intend to. And when I write about how much I love my husband or my family or post happy things, I don't want to be labeled as contrived. And I certainly don't want this blog to become a forum for constant complaining or negativity. What's the point of writing if that's all I am doing? I think that those who are most successful at this forum achieve a balance, they find a niche. Whether it's blogging about experiences or events or things, these people have been able to tap into the collective unconscious and speak to people. To relate to people or to inspire. Not to denigrate or diminish.

The rest is just floating out there in internet space, and I for one, just choose not to read it.

a quandry...

there is something i have been thinking about for a long time. it's not a big, life-changing thing by any means, but it's something that i keep coming back to. some days it feels like it's the best idea in the world, and others it feels like the stupidest.

i have this nagging feeling that if i actually went through with it, i would feel instantly contrite and wish i could take it back. but then another part of me has this nagging feeling that i've been putting it off for too long and should just get it over with.

consequently, as it stands right now, i am at a total impasse with myself. which is an interesting position to be in.

the end.

When stubbornness leads to ridiculousness

In the past, my predisposition to be stubborn hindered me in a few key ways. There was a point in time where I had the desperate inclination to do the exact opposite of what anyone counseled me to do. (Within the confines of my religious, perfectionist and over-analytical self, that is.) For instance, in college, if I received the "I'm not sure if ____ is the best guy to be dating" comment, I would dig my heels in and prove to everyone that ____, indeed, was worth dating. (Even though most of the time ____ wouldn't be.) I still have this feeling every so often, though I have learned to control this impulse [most of the time] and try to retain a sense of objectivity that I once was thoroughly devoid of.

I think it's a part of growing up... part of realizing that there are much more important things in life than trying to prove everybody wrong or thinking that a personal opinion is the only opinion of value. Honestly, I have miles to go... but perhaps vocalizing this little foible of mine will hold me a bit more accountable in the future.

With one of my most fav former roomies, circa 2005

Moments.

The advent of my 25th year brought with it a heavy dose of introspection. Which was probably aided by the fact that three days after the aforementioned event, I found myself unwillingly jobless for the first time in ten years.

Since then, I feel like my life has become thoroughly busy. I feel myself becoming mediocre at some things (like this blog for instance) and excelling at other things. Which I think is a natural aspect of life; however, most days I wish I could do it all.

I've been driving a lot more lately. To the UC. Which I hate doing. But it's given me even more time to contemplate and reflect. (When I'm not suppressing naughty words under my breath at incompetent drivers, that is.)

Lately I have been focusing on the importance of moments. The moments where I drive over the crest of a hill and see a beautiful valley below me. Where I look up and see puffy white clouds lazily hanging in the sky. Where I feel the last warming rays of the sun fighting through the brisk autumnal air. Where I glance over at the one I love most and he gives me my favorite smile. I've been taking mental pictures of these moments, appreciating them because I feel like the beauty of life is composed of these moments. And it is so easy to let the cacophony of stress and frustration encroach upon life's simple, yet powerful, moments... at least in my case.

I hope that we all can stop, take a breath, and enjoy the moment.

Seasons.

There are moments when I step outside and breathe in the coolness of the air and feel rejuvenated, invigorated. When the breeze slightly cools the warmth of the sun, promising nights spent curled up by the fireplace. Such moments are fleeting... my subconscious most likely linking this sensation to it similarly feels in early spring.

As a general rule, I don't like the fall. The days get shorter, the weather gets colder and everything begins to wither away. (Though Utah is known for its beautiful fall colors, the last few years have turned too cold too quickly, severely inhibiting the trees from progressing naturally to their winterized stasis.) I long for warmer temperatures and more sunlight. I cling to the excitement of the baseball playoffs and of Halloween, whilst dreading the winter that is to come.

But I guess this time of year, and its subsequent winter, helps me to appreciate the spring and summer. To take the time and marvel at the quiet beauty of a flowering tree, or bask in the exuded warmth of a summer afternoon. Perhaps this is like life in general, where there must be opposition in all things. Where, to know joy, we must know sorrow.

To my friend who is currently experiencing discouragement, confusion and frustration I say, please endure. Your spring morning will come. And it will be beautiful.

I envisioned it would be something like this.

At my previous place of employment there were days when I envisioned how I would leave, when the time came. By nature, I am a very loyal and trusting person, which is probably why my desired exit strategy never came to be, and in hindsight, it probably would not have been the best for me career-wise either. But when I came upon this post today, I was reminded of my former desires, and decided that I would share my vision with the masses.

It's simple really. One day I would just walk out. Take my personal files with me. Wipe my email clean. Quietly clear my desk. Send the HR lady an email. And just go.

{A Jennifer Aniston approach circa Office Space would also be hilarious... though probably better suited for my college job.}

You may be wondering why I ever contemplated such an exit, and the reasons for it I have alluded to and briefly touched on, but no longer feel it prudent to dwell upon. Though I didn't get to leave on my terms, I am so glad that I did leave and that I have the job I have now.

That's better than any exit strategy I could ever dream up.

photo found here

Trying to be a better person is not always easy.

This week, my main focus has been to minimize my propensity to stress out... to balance my chi if you will. And I surely will.

But I've come to realize that balancing my chi involves more than just managing my stress. It involves developing patience in all areas of my life. It means trying to engender sympathy and/or empathy for those whom I do not understand nor feel are very kind to others. It means that I have to stop becoming angered by the inexplicable and ridiculous actions of others. It will be difficult, to be sure, but I really do think I will feel better when I learn how to let things like that go.

Oh yeah, and three days at the Utah County Fair really tested this goal. I can't say I totally passed, but I think I am making some improvements.

(Knock on wood.)

I

... have a difficulty with patience most of the time.

... wish I was 5' 9" on a regular basis.

... love so passionately it hurts sometimes.

... get thoroughly annoyed when people ask when I plan to be (or if I am already) pregnant.

... wish I was more photogenic/could take better pictures.

... wish I didn't stress out about stuff so much.

... wish I could find a hobby that I really love that I am also good at.

... want to be at a Yankees game right now.

... get annoyed when people are pretentious.

... love to cuddle.

... feel really satisfied when I know I've accomplished something of worth.

... really appreciate the few close friends I do have.

... wish I could be comfortable in my own skin all the time.

... occasionally (secretly) wish I could still model.

... am so incredibly grateful it's the weekend.

London 2006

There are so many things I want to say...

I have written so many posts in my head the past few days. A lot of them filled with the words I desperately want to say.

And it's tempting. Oh so tempting.

But I think that maybe sometimes there are words that are better left unsaid. (Or, in this case, better left unwritten.)

Because notwithstanding the absolute truthfulness or the complete validity of what I could say, it wouldn't change anything.

I doubt I'd feel any better, anyway. Bottom-feeding isn't really my bag.

I will say that a week ago we had a plan, a good plan. And everything was going according to that plan. And then it was irreparably altered.

But, as an extremely sagacious friend of the family once reminded me...

"Life is what happens when
you're busy making other plans."

And I have to say that in spite of all of the tough times, I love this life of mine. Because it's only in and through said difficulties that my life is as joyous and as blessed as it is. (Not to mention having the most incredible husband and family a girl could ask for. Thank you all.)

Phases

Last night was the first time in a long that I yearned to go to work.

It hit me suddenly, intensely... inexplicably.

It's like I wanted it so badly simply because I could no longer have it.

I am going through these interesting phases of emotion that, in spite of my brain's best pragmatic efforts, have spilled over. Multiple times. Not because I loved my job, but because I put everything I had into it. For the better part of three years. Because during that time in my professional life the best things in my personal life happened. Because I care about so many of the people I used to work with.

There are moments where I am overcome by a feeling of loss (perhaps it's fitting that my termination happened in Steve's old office, so it'll always be inextricably tied to that sadness)... there are moments when I feel hurt, betrayed... there are moments when I feel like a giant weight has been lifted off my chest...

there are moments when I just cry,
when I just release it all.

My brain knows that this is for the best. That there is something out there for me that will be better. My heart is just trying to catch up. (I think/hope/pray it's almost there.)

It certainly helps that the one I love most has taken me in his arms, tucked me into my favorite nook under his arm, and simply let me release. Who wipes away the tears and assures me that we will be ok. And I know we will be.

I have the things that matter most, and for that I feel richly blessed.

Because a job is just a job.

Sometimes, all you need is just a fragment

There have been certain situations that have cropped up all around me that have elicited a lot of introspection as of late. And the aforementioned introspection meandered to a specific time in my life where I learned a specific lesson.

When, at 18, I braved the school down south, I embraced my new-found independence with the zeal of a kid in a candy store. (Assuming that most kids enjoy candy... I know I did. Pop rocks, anyone?) I had all of these ideas in my head-- that I could work 20-30 hours a week, have a social life and graduate summa cum-laude-- and all whilst wearing stiletto heels. (Okay, maybe not that last bit, but you get the idea.) And, even though I always had some underlying sense that I would not meet my future husband in college, the odds were kind of stacked against me. (Secretly, I didn't mind much about that either. That was back when I thought I'd totally be married by 21. Because I'd be so old. Ha.)

As I dove into collegiate dating life (perhaps sticking my toe in would be a better analogy, because I don't dive), I found that it was not as I expected. That though the men I dated were older than me, they weren't really. Meaning that I felt like I was still in high school... that I was experiencing superficiality at its finest. If that all makes sense.

I think after awhile though, at least in my case, certain aspects of that superficiality began to masquerade as depth. I always knew exactly what I wanted... but I got really good at making excuses. I knew that I was losing objectivity, and I felt that no matter where I turned, who I dated, it always cycled back to the same feeling, that something was missing... accompanied with the feeling that I was tired of caring.

Basically, there were many nights spent on my knees in prayer, usually amid tears. I pled with God a lot during those four years. Prayers of discouragement and dejectedness. Prayers filled with questions and desires. I mean, I just wanted to know that it would all work out... you know? I just wanted to know that I would find my someone. Someday.

And, through all of this, the lesson I learned was to trust in Him.

Completely. Unreservedly. TRUST.

Trust that he knows me better than I could ever know myself. Trust that if I tried my best to align my will with His, that I would be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Trust that He has a plan for me. And even if I could only initially offer Him a mere fragment of faith... it would be enough to begin a building block that would help sustain me through the tough times.

Sometimes I think it takes a lot, to exhibit faith and trust. Especially in God. I think that our finite minds cannot fully comprehend God's plan for us. It was meant to be that way, to test us, to try us. To help us to realize that we do need Him... not because we're forced to need Him, but because we want to need Him. (And because, honestly, without Him, we wouldn't and couldn't be.)

I have always loved the phrase that says, more or less: "Pray as if everything depends on God and work as if everything depends on you." I think it signifies the importance that we have to continually seek to improve ourselves, all whist exhibiting some faith and trust. Sure, it's not easy, but I think it just may be worth it. (Aka, totally worth it.)

Sorry, I think this turned out to be a bit more religious than I initially intended... but my belief in God is so much a part of who I am, that I guess it's bound to manifest itself here.

{image by ta, found here}

What the future holds.

Lately I have found myself at a precipice. Looking out to the great beyond and not knowing where to go next. In the near future decisions will be made that will effect and even determine the path in which I take. Thankfully, the unknown is not for me to discover alone, for I have my love with me. So perhaps it is as if we are both on a precipice, looking into the intimidating expanse before us and wondering where we will go and what we will become. It's equal parts exciting and terrifying for me, because I like to be in control. I like to know what's next. And even though I am beginning to have an idea of what that will be, I also know that I cannot have a knowledge of everything that is to come. I only know that whatever will be is meant to be. And that the person that I love the very most will be there, holding my hand.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost-


{image found here}

isn't it interesting

how one negative statement can derail dozens of positive ones? i find this concept to be most interesting. especially amongst women. why is it that we are so hard on ourselves? on our bodies? on the way we look, act and feel in general?

the thing is, i think we so often forget that we are special, unique, created by a higher power. this thought made me think of a line from one of my favorite children's books, You Are Special, by max lucado. to briefly summarize, it tells the tale of punchinello, a little wooden person called a wemmick. and wemmicks spend their days giving each other stickers, gold stars to "good" wemmicks and black dots to "not so good" wemmicks. punchinello finds himself in the latter category and is quite disheartened by this. that is until he meets a wemmick who has no stickers on her at all. she tells him to go see eli, the woodcarver, where he discovers that the stickers will only stick to him if he lets them. in one of my favorite lines from the book, eli tells punchinello, "remember, you are special because i made you. and i don't make mistakes."

perhaps this little analogy may come across as a bit cheesy... but i think the message is profound...

we are special because God made us, and He doesn't make mistakes.


image found via wikimedia

me.

i've always been quite introspective.

painfully shy in my younger years, i spent a lot of time by myself. with my books. with the tv. oft times both in tandem, for i have always loved to multitask. school (well, learning in general) also became my passion and my obsession.

there was a space of time in which i kept a journal for six years where i wrote every single day. and sometimes when i peruse through these writings i wish i'd been less specific. for often i felt like i was merely an observer of my own life... that i was too busy focusing on what was next (or too busy looking back) that i missed the present.

i think a lot of us are like this to some degree. i remember my mother counseling me to enjoy each phase of my life and to not wish it away. but when i was a child i couldn't fully appreciate the wisdom of these words. i always wanted to be older, to be on to the next step, to know where i was headed. thankfully, i don't feel that way anymore.

that's not to say i didn't have a lovely childhood filled with beautiful memories, surrounded by an incredibly loving family. i am blessed to have a largely unblemished childhood that was happy and fulfilling.

i just think i'm my own worst enemy sometimes.

i'm all together too hard on myself. so self critical that it's at times overwhelming, like a giant rock upon my chest. i don't think my ocd mitigates this at all... in fact, i'm embracing the fact that this impediment is perhaps its cause.

i am sometimes utterly debilitated by my insecurities.

it's something that i have to constantly work on... staving away the little girl who is so sensitive and so shy that everything but her own mind is intimidating.

i don't really feel that way anymore... mostly.

because i finally have embraced the person that i was, am and will become. because i am lucky and blessed to have a knowledge of this life's greater purpose and know that i am indeed a child of a loving and compassionate God. because i am loved by many people whom i also love, adore and respect. because i am at a point in my life where i feel that a new and beautiful phase is just beginning, that i am beginning it as a part of a whole.

and i appreciate the experiences i have passed through to get here.

So you're "just" a mom, huh?

[As a preface to this post I am going to say that the statements below are purely my thoughts and feelings on the matter and that I do not condemn those who disagree with me on these points. In fact, I'd love to hear from those who disagree with me, along with their thoughts and feelings on the matter. So long as said responses are in good taste and are of the respectful "agree to disagree" nature, of course.]

I'm at the point where this statement and statements like it are wearing on my nerves a bit. Which is a little strange seeing as how I am not yet a mother, nor am I pregnant or anything like that. In fact, I am fully devoted to and enjoy the job I have now. I just think that the juxtaposition of motherhood v. career is a perplexing one, and (generally speaking) it seems as if each side never fully accepts the other.

A few of my blog friends have touched on similar ideas in the past few weeks, which initially got me thinking more deeply about the matter. And this morning I came across this article, which caused me to contemplate it even further. I was surprised at the condescending and oversimplified tone of the author. She can't honestly think that her friend sits on the couch and eats bon-bons all day... can she? As far as the woman who replied to the author, I applaud her for her efforts. Was she defensive? Yes, but I don't really blame her that much. I think I'd be defensive too if my choice of occupation (yes, you read right, occupation) was so naively and snobbishly attacked.

That being said, I guess the first question that comes to my mind is: "Why do so many people regard stay-at-home motherhood (hereafter referred to as SAHM) as a cop-out?"

I understand that there are women out there who wish to vigorously pursue a career path. Who are willing to dedicate copious amounts of time and energy to do so. I also understand that there are women out there whose desire (or lack thereof) to have children is trumped by their desire to succeed in the workplace or their desire to traverse myriad other paths. Lovely. I don't really understand this point of view, because my own feelings don't jibe with this lifestyle choice, but I recognize that there are plenty of women out there who do.

So why can't we all get along? Why is it that some of those who are sans children that have a career are so apt to question whether or not SAHM is a farce? Conversely, why are some stay-at-home moms so quick to condemn the women who choose to pursue their careers? Personally, I don't think that anyone can fully grasp the breadth of SAHM unless they have done it themselves. This idea goes both ways, though I think it's prudent to point out that many who choose SAHM have worked/had careers in the past, so I think there is perhaps a greater sense of understanding there than from women who have never had children. Sometimes.

To me, SAHM is one of the (if not the) most difficult jobs there is. Why, you ask? For starters, I believe that it is one of the most selfless things you can do with you life. Ideally, you leave your wants and needs at the door and completely invest your time in the growth and development of another human being. You're not rewarded fiscally, or even verbally, yet you devote 24 hours of your day, seven days a week to this job. You teach this child values and help instill in him/her a belief system, one they might completely reject later in life... but at least they have been taught something (hopefully) worthwhile. Your life becomes their life, encompassed by their needs. It's a daunting task, really. And for those who assert that this "lifestyle choice" is an excuse to be lazy and kick back is kidding themselves.

In the end, I think it's vital to respect other people and their decisions. I may lean a certain way concerning this topic, and find it frustrating when I feel that people I love are being judged because they are choosing to raise their children, but that doesn't mean that I will declare someone who chooses to work instead of procreate as "selfish" etc. etc. I just think that there is no more important role in a woman's life than that of a mother; I can't wait to be one. I just hope that those who surround me can support me in my choice whilst I respect them in theirs.

the true nature of people

so i've been thinking about something all day... and it's difficult for me to articulate it in a way that doesn't come across as completely cynical and/or defeatist... but i'm going to attempt this anyway.

the underpinnings of this post basically started with an event today that made me pause and mull over the idea of human nature. oft times you come in contact with people and perhaps know them for years before their "true" colors emerge. perhaps you believe that said people will always treat you and the ones you love with the same respect and care in which you treat them.

what has been disheartening to me is when it becomes readily apparent that this is not the case.

i'll use an inconsequential example to expound upon this thought, and let me emphasize that this example is not the cause of my introspection, nor does it bother me anymore in the slightest; i merely think that it is a useful, less-severe illustration of my point.

months ago i decided to blog about politics. i knew that i was putting myself out there in a very public forum and braced myself for the criticism of others. via the comments of one of these political posts, i became involved in a "discussion" of my political tenets with an anonymous commenter. and i won't lie, it got a little heated. "anonymous" was very critical and condescending and at times combative, which i was actually ok with. who doesn't love a good sparring match? te hee.

until i found out that "anonymous" was someone i knew.

i won't lie to you, i had a difficult time with it. it was hard not to be angry/hurt/angry. in a way i felt confused because i never would have suspected that this person was capable of saying such things. but i learned something important: people do not often exhibit the full range of their nature until given the opportunity to do so. that being said, do i think "anonymous" is a bad or a malicious person? no. but i did learn something about his/her personality/character that i had not been aware of before. and it wasn't necessarily positive.

i can write about this example because it no longer stings me. i can use it to illustrate my point because it is almost trite when i compare it with the things of substance that i value and have experienced throughout my life. but hopefully, you can understand the point i'm trying to make through the lens of this illustration.

while the manifestation of human nature can be negative, it can also be positive and beautiful. i can't count the times where i have been served or witnessed others being served by those whom i'd least expect. whether it was college roommates i barely knew writing a kind note or providing a shoulder to cry on, or the lovely woman down the street who offered a meal to some neighbors who had had a bad day, these people constantly inspire me.

lately it has been husband that has inspired me the most. he has the most kind and gentle heart of anyone i know and has such an aura of patience and love. he is in no way arrogant or condescending; he always places the needs of others before his own. he never hesitates to serve; in fact, this desire is innate within him. and it is such an incredible blessing to witness such characteristics. it encourages me daily to be a little bit better, a little more selfless, so that i too can exhibit the positive aspects of my nature.

sorry if this post was a little too meandering/confusing, sometimes i tend to ramble. shrug.

When you have a gratitude attitude

On the eve of the great day of Thanksgiving, I thought it would be fitting and prudent to share some of the things that I am grateful for. So this won't necessarily be the most original post, but it will be one of my most sincere. Lately, there have been a few, shall we say, "difficulties" that have surfaced in my life and in the lives of people that I love. And these events have given me pause and have caused me to evaluate what is most important in my life. Through all of this introspection, I have come to one emphatic conclusion:

I have been blessed...

by husband, who I love more deeply than I ever thought was possible and who is my best friend. He is my favorite person in the entire universe and we have so much fun together. [I obvi could go on and on and on, but you get the idea. :)]

by a phenomenal family with kick butt parents who have always been a source of love and support. And my siblings are the best siblings of all the siblings. This also includes my amazing extended family and in-laws as well. Just fyi.

by my beliefs. For the knowledge I have of the nature of God and of Jesus Christ. For the fact that I know that Jesus is my Savior, that there is a plan for us all, that we have a purpose in this life and in the life to come.

by my friends. Who come from California to attend my wedding... who drive an hour just to have dinner with me... who keep me sane at work... who find me via the blogosphere... who constantly support me and lift me up through various means. I treasure you all.

by the beauty of my surroundings. I live in a beautiful place. And my apartment's not bad either. Especially when husband's in it. (Because, in case I haven't told you yet, he's pretty good looking.)

by the knowledge I have acquired over the years. Not saying I'm the brightest bulb in the tanning bed, but I love the fact that I have the ability to learn. To expand my knowledge in whichever direction I choose. I had the blessing of attending school and receiving a higher education, which I realize is a gift. Not everyone is afforded this same privilege. I am lucky to be in the circumstance I am in.

by my job. So maybe I don't love it all of the time. Maybe I don't love it most of the time. But the fact that I have a job that pays me well during this difficult economic time is such a blessing.

by the people who surround me. I have decided that I need to exercise more patience. The people that I interact with on a daily basis (in the form of angry callers or verbally abusive transients) have helped me to develop this trait. I have a long way to go I fear, but think I am improving little by little.

I think I will stop there, just so I don't bore you all with a list that could go on indefinitely. I just love this time of year because it affords us all a moment that we can stop and contemplate the blessings and goodness in our lives. It is a time where we have the opportunity to shed the worries that plague us all and feel happiness for the blessings we do have.

Happy Turkey Day everyone. Eat lots of pie. :)

(PS, if anyone can tell me where I got the inspiration for the title of this post, you're my new favorite person.)