shannon, upon entering her 20s

I've always said that Shannon is her own special kind of light. She has a presence, one that is noticeable even to those who have just met her. She has this habit of talking with her hands, and when she's explaining something you can almost see the inner workings of her mind, the mechanisms rolling. That's the part of her that is meticulous and organized, always planning, always trying to be one step ahead. But there's another part of her, a part of her soul that she learns more and more about as she grows, that yearns to let things go, to let go of plans and schedules and steps and to just feel free. I've seen her feel that freedom, that feeling of raw and pure living, by falling down a mountain's wall and catching on that last clip. But I've also seen her feel that freedom simply from being loved by a man who can't believe how lucky he is to have found her. She learns from her mistakes and she will make many more, but along the way she will share a piece of her light with every person she encounters, and some of us will be lucky enough to share a piece of her heart, that piece of her heart that is young and free. 

Welcome to your 20s, Shan. 

thanksgiving

Sometimes I feel like an alien in my family. Perhaps it's my semi rebellious spirit or my irreverence that I personally view as one of my many perks OR maybs i am in denial about having a touch of middle child syndrome BUT whatever it is, one swear word out of my mom and one "tim don't you dare think about telling that story about me and mom in Vegas and how bout you pretend you just never heard that in the first place" from my dad AND several healthy and audible snorts from not one but two of my siblings later, my roots are smackin me in the face in a "these are your people" kind of way.

thanks for loving me, you guys.

je ne sais quoi

i went through a pretty devastating breakup this year. i woke up one morning and it was like my entire world was falling apart, as dramatic as that sounds. neither of us did anything wrong, there was no one to blame, it was just two lives and two paths and an uncontrollable event that made the timing wrong and the situation became an exit strategy for him rather than an obstacle for us to work through together. i spent a month in what i thought was the acceptance stage, but for those familiar with the process of grieving, acceptance is the final stage and there's a lot of shiz to work through before that comes. but this post isn't about that. in most ways i've made my peace with that. this is about attraction.

the idea of attraction has been on my mind a lot lately, and was only further solidified when i read meg fee's post on the very subject. i remember a time when, in a moment of low self-esteem, i asked my male friend tyler what my quote-unquote turnoffs were. lovingly reprimanding me in his honest-to-a-fault way, ty told me that "one man's turnoffs are another mans turnONs," and that all i needed to worry about was being the best version of myself. and sometimes the best version of myself includes a healthy balance of spiritual and inappropro and THAT'S okay, because the men i am attracted to/ the men i attract usually deliver that same healthy amount of irreverence. everybody has their different reasons for attraction, their different pulls toward the opposite sex, draws that are physical, emotional, and mental. 

but what is IT? what is the "it" factor? it's individual, i know that much. which makes it a MIRACLE that people get married and stay married. a legit miracle. my fantastic parents met in September 1983 on Catalina Island during a single adult retreat for our church. they spent the weekend together and were engaged TEN DAYS LATER. they got married four months later and have been grossly in love for (going on) 29 years. MIRACLE. a miracle that involved and still involves a lot of work, faith, patience, humility, and love. but the fact that they both were attracted to each other in all the right ways at the same time and on the same level, well, that's "it." my dad had seriously dated girls before he met my mom, but none of them had his "it." and then Elise came along and rocked. his. world. 

everybody experiences this, and most of us seek for it on some level, daily, at least as single ladies and gents. when i first saw the sweet man i was engaged to earlier this year, my first thought was "that is the most beautiful man i have ever seen in my entire life." my second thought? "he's probably engaged." (that's the general and safe assumption in Provo okay). i didn't know on that day that this man would, over the course of the next few months, completely change my world and make me fall for him in ways that i never even knew possible. because of that experience and that relationship i am amazed at the capacity our hearts have to love, so deeply and so fully and on so many levels. and because of the culmination of that relationship, i am amazed at the capacity our hearts have to heal, and to move on and to love again. 

i didn't find that same attraction for a long time. no one impressed me, no one moved me. no one made me feel like every nerve in my body was a live wire. i dated different boys, i kissed different boys, i flirted with pretty much anybody i felt like. but no one had "it." and i couldn't figure out what "it" was. i hacked it up to not being completely over my former fiance, i figured i needed more time, way more time before i could really feel that for someone. and then i ran across this quote: 

and i realized, THAT'S IT. that's my "IT." that's the feeling, that live wire feeling in every nerve in every corner and nook in your body. i wanted to be moved. i wanted to feel that pull, every time. is that me being a romantic? maybe. is that me being a woman? perhaps. but that spark exists. that burning, that pull, exists. i was kissing boys a couple months after this breakup and kissing is kissing so it was all fun and good but it was almost mundane. if you know me you know i'm a full supporter of kissing and everything that comes with it but WHO IN THE WORLD WOULD WANT TO FEEL LIKE KISSING SOMEONE IS MUNDANE?? no no no. that's all wrong. so i quit that. and i vowed myself to a life free of mundane kissing. i wanted that burn. every human on the planet deserves that burn. 

that "it" came back recently, one day, unexpected. and it wasn't that the man was stare-at-him-in-the-street-with-your-mouth-open beautiful; in fact, i couldn't ever put my finger on WHY he had "it." but he had it. and it moved me. that burn, that live wire feeling. a unique charisma or charm, a look, i cannot tell you how certain men in my life have had that draw, that pull that you can feel across a room simply by their existence in that space, your space. but i can tell you that it's individual, and it's real. if you've felt it before, you know it, and you recognize it when it comes around again. our ability to feel, on all levels, is a blessing. i wouldn't, i couldn't be human without it. 

fail

it's funny how you can look at your life and see that you only have 8 more classes to pass to graduate from college and that's when you feel like school just isn't for you anymore.
except it's really not that funny. it's mostly painful and you're tired a lot and why did you ever think that jam packing your last two semesters full of upper level english classes was a good idea cuz it really wasn't.
c's and d's get degrees and hearts do heal but sometimes you just can't get a handle on very much at all and you can't figure out why but the one and only thing you DO know is that you need to need to need to pass and this is it, this is that time.

just remember that there are a lot of people who love you and nobody has it "all" together. everyone is waiting on something, or someone. blessings come when you're ready for them.

failing is okay, i think. eventually you learn from it, i hope.

"forf of july"

JRC 2012 - Independence Day

I woke Tashya up yesterday morning and said "Tash, it's the Fourth of July! Time to get up!" 

Tash: "It's not forf' of July in my dream."

Me: "Well what are you dreaming about?"

Tash: "I'll tell you in a minute. Go away." 

...............

Grateful to live in a country where cows can be horses, pirates ride in wagons, and the qualifications for a genuine "parade" are pretty much whatever you want them to be. 

Also, not everybody knows their national anthem. 

Happy 4th of July from camp! 

"you don't love people at their best, sweetheart. you just love them because you can't help it."

-Amy Lane

afternoon at the lake

things learned: 

the rope swing is my friend. 

the branch that trapped my foot as i was climbing out of the lake and made me fall and faceplant back into the lake -- NOT my friend. 

le graduate

baby brother graduated high school two weekends ago and we decided the best way to celebrate was to spend the rest of the day on the boardwalk in santa cruz. 

there was no complaining well only some complaining but just cuz we didn't get to play laser tag (it was a laser tag MAZE, you guys) 

(okay it actually wasn't a maze per se it was more just like an arena BUT in my head it was a maze and in my head it was awesome).  

but perhaps the best moment of the morning was when the graduating class was announced and the graduates stood and momentously switched their tassels to the other side of their caps and the crowd was cheering exclamations of congratulations, my dear sweet mother was cheering loudly, "I NEVER HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN!!!!" 

......

good job brother.

(we love each other)

really proud of my yittle bro and the man he is becoming. love you booger. 

small animals barn

it's all fun and games 'til your big sister puts a baby chick on your head. 

ps: at the ranch for the summer. gonna heal my heart and get a wicked tan. 

the missing comes in waves of heavy noticeable-ness, while a less noticed, constant ache of the heart just kind of sits there softly and rests in the surf. during those inbetweens are the little things, the empty spaces that used to be filled with that laugh or a t-shirt hanging over the desk chair or toes slid just underneath my leg on the bed. those empty spaces are just so much more noticeable now, you know?

"She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells." 

-Dean Koontz

this girl is back

with the light i've been missing these last few months.

you can find us at the park. 

scars

why do we tell little kids not to pick at their scabs? we say "don't pick at that, it won't heal as fast and it will scar worse."

but we do the same thing with our hearts. we reopen the wound before it heals, sometimes over and over again.

in the end, though, scars are preferable. they mean the wound is closed, not forgotten but definitely healed.

born to run, born to love

I haven't been to a lot of places in this world, as my travels have been confined inside of the United States. And while it has been worth it to cross experiences off of my list, i.e. seeing the space needle or going to the DC temple or running around Chicago and pretending to be Ferris Bueller, this thing, this need to go go go that has been shifting around inside of me for the last several years is poking and prodding at my very surface so much that any day it might explode out of my core. I want to run, I want to see, I want to breathe and laugh and feel and explore and take everything, everything, in all at once and then slowly and mechanically, letting it soak into my pores like a sponge that never ever gets full. I want to meet strangers on the street and listen to their life stories, their heartaches and their experiences that weaved the inner workings of their souls, and I want to meet the people they love. I want to speak eat breathe and dream Spanish and struggle and fail my way through Arabic while glorying in how absolutely beautiful it sounds to my ears from someone else's mouth. I want to be hugged by an old Greek woman and I want to eat straight-up Italian pizza until my stomach feels like exploding. I want to see pyramids and camels and make friends with an elephant. I want to lose my breath on the Rock of Gibraltar and I want to hold my breath while standing in the middle of Machu Picchu in fear that if I make a sound or even blink I might wake up from a dream. I want to visit the families my dad served in Uruguay, I want to see the beaches of Kuwait where my best friend spent her favorite afternoons as a little girl, I want to find Peter Pan in his park. I want to stand in the streets of every third-world country and cry. I want to experience this life and this world and love more people than I ever thought imaginable. I want to teach and I want to learn, I want to love and I want to feel the love of strangers who don't speak the same language as me but who share the understanding that we, we are human and we are connected to one another. I want to feel that connection and be consumed by the knowledge that there is good in people and that all of us have the capacity to love. I was born to love, of this I am sure.

date a girl who reads

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

― Rosemarie Urquico

image via

oh leo.

somewhere, inside of me, is my 13 year-old self whose heart just skipped a beat.

words of wisdom.

carlie: "jenny, you don't have to be proud of your grades. be proud of the fact that you haven't flunked out of college yet."

may we remember these words as well as the following thought on red bulls and diet coke, as finals loom ahead in the way-too-near future.

calvin!

godmothering and such.

God was ever present on Friday, sending me a flourish of gifts throughout the day.

He had an anonymous angel leave flowers + special note on my desk at work.

He brought my godson into the world, 10 fingers + 10 toes + lots of good screamin' and two happy Hoyts.

And he sent a double rainbow, for Calvin, for his sweet parents, and for everyone who will ever know and love him in his life.

Welcome to the world, Calvin Jacob! You are incredibly loved.