Faith on your hands

A few days ago I was homeless for a few hours.

We packed up all my life in little boxes and filled the van with my bulletin boards and that one picture that has no frame and was once in my bedroom when i had a flowery bed. my books are thrown together with my blow dryer. i’m wearing nasty flip flops and a gross outfit that is called moving out outfit. my life is mostly up in the air but the remains are in a suitcase and take the form of shorts and floaty shirts.

the van is filled, and two girls desperate to sell their contracts are giving me awesome deals. i’m standing on the street by the van and we’re just going to pick right this minute where the contents of this car and my life for the next four months are going.

what a cool feeling. like you’re standing at that diverging point in the woods robert frost knows about. you, in your own small way. blinking into the sun having no idea where you’re going, and being totally free to decide.

but i can’t really revel in it too long because i have to make a decision, like the stuff is in the van and dad is waitin for the word, sweaty and ready to get back home, you know!

eenie meenie miny mo, it comes down to this. (mom’s suggestion. genius. YES!, I say. Eenie meenie miny mo always helps me know which option i really want anyway!)

MO! I land on the wrong one.

But these paths are looking pretty much the same amount of appealing and I feel like it doesn’t matter much anymore. I’ve already lost robert frost’s glittering mind, somewhere on the trek down university avenue. all i can think about is how dad is ready to go and i have to choose something hurry up choose your life.

Mom is amazing again and we pray together, she is supporting me and I am never going to give this woman up i tell you. I say the words of the right choice as soon as we say amen without even thinking, and i feel like i should tip my hat and stroll back inside the cramped van beside the floor lamp and have some epic music to play as i continue my journey.

we pop back in the car and i say out loud to these apartments, sorry, you didn’t get choosed. i think inside about having faith and developing it and how God is always helping me in these crazy things.

God helps us make decisions always that are important even if we feel silly for the way the end up happening. duh i should have known forever ago where i was living for spring. and i just wrote down random numbers from that gigantic board full of reduced prices and exclamation points. but He knows me, and I am making my efforts to know Him so help is near and always, i have decided, always,

I JUST WANT TO LIVE WITH FAITH ON MY HANDS.

I got out of bed and wrote this by light of my cell phone it was so important.

I just want to live with faith on my hands.

no blood and no glory and only faith and belief. it’s a beautiful armor and glitterier than robert frost.

i just sing to the people running around studying.

the books breathe out the reasons why
and why not
the weight is lifted for a while
and i feel those chills i love
i jump up and down, from note to note and sing to float
my eyes cram and squish down, makeup running in and out
i love, and leap,
and the ncmo-is-abuse poster is generating hate
i love, i love, and leap around
hug tight
but read articles and wonder life away
just LIVE
is my challenge of late.
when the uncertainties creep up like sinewy black bats
i shoof them away and spell out to myself
just LIVE!
when the analyzations make my mind cloudy and foggy and all things otherwise crappy
i just say, SUN, come on in,
I'm going to LIVE.

i'm going to california in four days. flying by the seat of my pants.
SMILEY FACE SUNSHINE BEACH BOYFRIEN FIVE YEARS OLD SLASSSH ADULT.
studying it out in your mind doesn't mean your life has to consist of hermitcrabbing.
soul searching with just a pen and paper.
there are times for this necessity, every day.

but your whole life needs to be full of vitality, so you've got to accept that and put down your notebook and run outside with your cutoffs
sit down in the grass while people are hurriedly studying for finals and their whole lives are on the line and you, you
SING.
gospel songs about how God is good and how He will take care of you.
If you just LIVE, He will be in it!
didn't you know this all along? don't be paralyzed. LIVE! sing out on that grass for all to hear. are you going to do that crazy high part? yeah, yeah you are.
your fear has gone, hasn't it?
and how did you do that?
you just DID it, instead of thinking about doing it and writing about doing it forever and ever.

Throw off your disgustingly heavy winter jacket and hop and skip around in your new sunshine.

explanation for a little minute.

other people blog about their husbands and their children, their new house and their sightseeing on their trips and their new job and their giveaways of their flowery headbands.
these are all very nice things.
but i personally in my own brain and life do not want to blog about them.
partially because i don't have them, but also partially because i feel like when i do my blog will still be about writing what's in my heart which usually never consists of anything logical like, here's a picture of us at the grocery store! here's a picture of what we ate for dinner! here's a million pictures of our wrinkly ugly bulldog and two lines of type and a million comments about how pretty i am! (okay, this is not included in the "these-are-all-very-nice-things" sentence.)

not that i don't enjoy reading this type. if i care about you, i very much love to stay informed about the ins and outs of your life and what you wore to macey's. serious.

but i'm not going to do that here. i'm going to let whatever comes out come out, whether it's in cryptic code prose whatever or lists or (occasional) full sentences.
my purpose is not to sell my awesome handmade products, or anyone else's. my purpose is not even to keep you updated on the happenings big or small of my life, although those present themselves within the needlework. my purpose is to express myself.
even if that's cliche or whatever you want to call it.

just so that you are knowing. k? cool.

Nachitos?

I’ve long been inspired by the reflections on Denny’s by this girl; in truth, I think of her every time I pass the establishment on the corner of University. She seems to own Denny’s, in a way. It’s her place, with her memories. No use trying to catch up. I feel tool-ish going there sometimes. And have I ever had a legit menu item, probably no, but.

But we wanted to get away from our people-filled apartments so late at night and in a debate about the limited options, we ended up below the bright red sign with the rain and the mostly empty parking lot.

A transvestite was our waiterperson.

This is real.

My, how confused we were! We were elbowing the laughter out of each other like a couple of middle school kids until we were sure this waiterpersonofunknowngender was out of earshot.

“Man or woman?”

“No idea. Seriously, there is no indication. A man? Trying. To. Be. A. Woman.”

“Your team!!”

hmpf.

This waiterperson had to come back 16 times before we knew what we wanted to order because of this necessary exploration of gender. This waiterperson should have been more patient and known that Denny’s folk are far too fascinating to be buried in the menu right off the bat; you have to have an experience first.

The hot chocolate and hilariously greasy nachitos appeared and we didn’t talk much, but people-watched. Kids came with their textbooks to study with Moons Over My Hammy; two girls snuggled too close; a couple of guys who weren’t talking to each other maybe just came because they have no wives, and were legitimately hungry; two women made us giggle when they swore and talked loud;

and then, us, sitting side by side, with our nachitos and whip cream-ed hot chocolate.

iloveaboy. he is not a transvestite. he does not swear. he does not snuggle too close to me. because that is impossible.

we talked late into the night as the rain fell down the car windows.

silence

"If we were not so single minded
about keeping our lives moving
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death."

makeshift journ

I’m feeling a whole lot of feedback from Heaven about my life. Can you tell that?

One time last week I dropped a Book of Mormon on a stranger’s doorstep while I was running. It was crazy and felt ridiculous at first but I felt to do it and so I did.

One time a few weeks ago I felt like it was really important to call up this boy that hasn’t been in my life for real since I was 17 and talk to him all important-like. I got in his car having no idea what to say. And I said mush for a long time before I figured out why I was there. We talked about HIS important stuff and it was one of those moments where you feel so validated by the whole world because the risk you took was helpful to someone else. I felt so hugely to bring him back into my sphere for one reason at first. It wasn’t the right reason. But I figured it out, and finally, FINALLY, I can fully let the particles of that part of my life fall in the right place.

It felt good to let it go.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Sandwiched between two date nights, I didn’t feel awk. I just ate my bad-breath imparting vegetable crackers and wrote in the failing light of the De Jong, ready to scribble down observations about conducting. Concerts like this make me feel stuffy and penguinesque when I’m not a part of them. Like I wanna run up and do something loud like bang on the piano and shout gibberish.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

MAN MY LIFE IS NUTS!

I’ve written variations on this phrase no less than 16 times per week in my makeshift journ.

I also write to myself in that place.

You create your own awesomeness. Raise your hand and be in charge of your life. Make it what you want. It’ll go.

Alma 26:16—“Therefore, let us glory, yea, we will glory in the Lord; yea, we will praise God forever. Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord? Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men? Behold, I say unto you, I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.”

I’ll keep trying to express how amazing He is making my life.

Turn The Page

the thing i love most about every day is the sky.
i crane my neck and allow holes in my eyes to look at the sun, if it's peeking itself out.

i want to invite it to stay, even if it hurts.

the sky was all things i am today: gray cloudy, puffy cloudy, bright blue and clear---ALL AT THE SAME TIME.
and then there was the breathtaking part
that was in the west and the little mountains in that distance were snowy on top but i didn't mind because the shine was falling down on them and
it reminded me of highways on the way to california
in december

people who see me walking when i'm wrapped up in the sky think i am totally, totally weird. but maybe it makes them look up for a minute, and think, yeah, i guess that is cool.
oh, yeah, i guess that is cool.
i guess it is cool that we really, really care about each other. that we just wanna understand.
i forgot what it's like to talk on the phone but it feels good even if it's different.

and with the sky it feels like heaven is close, even if it's just a bunch of clouds.
"keep being open, but don't freak out if you feel like nothing is coming," i wrote to myself.
i give myself a lot of advice lately. we're all learning inside this one body together.

the sky had to drain itself out these past few days and i hated it. looking up at wispy stretches of gray nimbus clouds is not inspiring and i was upset.
but we all have to do our soul work, no matter how unglamorous.
even if i forget my so few school assignments. even if i want to pop away on a rainbow colored magic school bus.
i have to deal with drainage.

"don't get puffed up so you're impenetrable," i wrote to myself. "drain all that excess water out of you and let God fill you up."
it always comes around back to this same circle of things. we all have our own circle of things that need repeat processing, digesting, draining.
but the sky teaches me that's a good thing. it eventually has to rain.

.........……………………..
Brennon: "I just really want someone to snuggle with."
Me: "Well, me and mom will be available to snuggle soon."
B: "Nooo, like, at night while I'm going to sleep and stuff in my bed."
Mom: "Well, you'll have to wait until you're married for that."
B: "uggh, I KNOW. it's just such a long time! I can't wait for that."

Forecast: Wind. What will happen? Turn the page.
---> Blow, wind, blow!
Sometimes the wind is very light. This is called a breeze. Sometimes there is a strong wind. This is called a gust. Sometimes the wind is so strong that it lifts up houses! That kind of wind is called a tornado.
---> I will fly a kite. My hair will blow. I will watch the trees blow.

But don't worry, because this page, in the corner, says:

Forecast: Sun.

What will happen?

Turn the page.