alchemist's eyes

SOUL-stice sisters essay

A portion of this essay is featured in Heather Farrell's newest book, Walking With the Women in the Old Testament.  

 

 For five years, three friends and I have met at the turn of each season in celebration.  We didn't anticipate this becoming a tradition when we first met in summer (some of us meeting for the first time), under candlelit jars dangling from my top deck.  But, the night was filled with a sacred hush and what was for some of us a first meeting, felt much more like a reunion.  We made plans to meet in the fall, and then we met in winter to lay that year to rest and whisper our dreams to one another for the coming year.  As each season came we looked forward to a reunion with nature (that perhaps we had not noticed, appreciated or anticipated before), our own creativity, each other, our own unique purpose, and God.  

There is a magic melding and meshing of talents and gifts to bring each celebration to life.  We often trek boxes full of china, gold place settings, firefly lights, dressed in our ballet flats, lacy skirts and flower crown into the summer woods where we set a feast of rosemary strawberry scones, homemade cider sweetened for days with honey, cinnamon and oranges.  In the winter, after lighting sparklers and writing our intentions for the next year in the frosty air dressed in sequin skirts, boots and furry vests we huddle around the kitchen table and fireplace for hot winter veggie soup, warm homemade bread, and bright red pomegranates.  This is not a time of competition, comparison, or pride, but a true expression of creativity and connection.  We dress according to the season, and for ourselves.  The tulle skirt that may have no other place to make a debut, is welcome here. 

The setting is magical, but the real magic happens in the moments around the candlelit table, or bonfire when we witness for each other.  We celebrate the dark parts (fears, worries, sadnesses) as well as the light parts (goals, dreams, creativity) equally.  Each of us have known light and dark, yet each are able to sift through the grit and mine the flecks of gold from our experiences.  We are "midwives" who help labor in the dark, to bring one another's dreams and stories to light.  We don't hide, stuff or mask our dark and pain and are there to whisper "me too" to those hard things or "not true" to those negative or false ideas we hold about ourselves.  In this process we are nourished, and paradoxically lifted and grounded in this safe circle.  We see more clearly our own divine identities and see how God sees us, which connects us easily, in turn, with God.  Another translation for atonement is "reunion." In this space I feel that reunion, as I am nourished and enabled.    Elder Clayton said, ". . . we can choose and deliberately develop the spiritual root structure of our lives. We decide where to set our roots down and how deeply to sink them into the soil.  Daily decisions make tiny, almost imperceptible differences in the roots of our faith, the effect of which becomes foundational. Because we don't know when or how our own challenges will come, or how long our personal seasons of winter or summer will last, we should set down our roots as deeply as we can into the only true source of nourishment for our souls, the Lord Jesus Christ. He wants our lives to be abundant."  As the candles dim and the bonfire quiets, we see the "beauty for ashes" this season has brought and feel strengthened for the upcoming season.  What is born each season?  Resiliency, confidence, connection, and perhaps most important, compassion.  These are each virtues born of adversity.  The light from the dark.  We know we will meet again, as light outweighs dark, or dark outweighs light, or the light and dark are equally balanced, whatever the next season may bring.  

Like a Watered Garden, Elder Clayton

 

 

 

 other soulstice celebrations posts here. 

pain and honey

I've had honey on my mind this week.  This is a scene from my manuscript, Bound.  It's mid-book, so enjoy this out-of-context peek, featuring honey.  

 

 

 

Pain and Honey

    I step over the broken honeycomb and come close to the fire, the only thing that keeps the

angry bees away. The rag I dipped in the stream that runs along the bottom of the steep stone

cliffs, drips across the hot stones and sizzles. The smoke stings my eyes as I move close to

Tarik. His eyes are swollen shut and his lips are puffy with bee poison. Bees that attacked him

as he came back to save me as I clung to the cliffs, frozen.

    “Tarik. I’m back.” I hope he can still hear me and I try to ease his pain with the cool

rag.

    He attempts to smile and winces at the movement of his face, which seems to pain him

even more.

    “Deerskin.” The name sounds like a caress, rather than an insult.

    “Shh.” My voice is gentle as I smear honey across his swollen lips. The cure, ironically,

is made by the maker of the poison. I stir the honey poultice around again slowly, before

plastering it on his skin. I pull open the ties on his shirt, swabbing the stings on his chest and

neck.

    “Don’t eat me.” Tarik rasps out.

    I hide the pain that watching his slowness causes me. I can sense there is more of a joke

he would like to tell, but the movement of his lips is not worth the effort.

I dig out the stringers with the end of the dagger I found at his waist. Blood mixes with

the honey on the knife’s tip. I try to calm myself by digging out each one methodically.

    “My father. He will take you in.” His eyes are kind, not pained for himself, but worried

on my behalf.

    He begins to tell me directions to his father’s, but I silence his lips with my finger, “No

need you will be with me.”

    My voice sounds steady in my ears, but not in my heart. I know he

will not be with me, if I do not heal him. The honey and oils are not enough to save him.

I tie the end of his shirt ties in knots that match exactly at the end, to distract me from my

decision, like the bee buzzing around the cliffs the thought that I must heal him buzzes around

my brain. Is he worth the risk to heal? I’ve used my oils, but the venom is too strong and too

much. One person cannot be worth losing everything, but suddenly it seems like everything to

lose him.

    “Close your eyes.” I command him gently.

    “Won’t. Be. Hard.” The words are raspy as his throat starts to close.

    I absently tear at the pieces of honeycomb in my lap, knowing my decision is already

made. There is a cliff between life and death that I will walk him too, so he will not know what I

have done. I cannot risk him knowing who I am and what I can do. I must wait carefully, but

not wait too long—if the timing is wrong I will lose him.

    It doesn’t take long until he is at the edge of his own life. I think of my own feet at the

edge of the cliff and his hand reaching toward me, asking me to keep my eyes on his. His blue

eyes are closed now, but I can see them clearly when I close my own in prayer.

I check again to make sure he is breathing, but not aware, before I slip out of the skins,

unwillingly to defile my prayers any longer. My sticky hands close around the mallet and my

healing bowl. I call out, a whisper at first, so he won’t hear. But he doesn’t and I don’t see his

chest rise or fall beneath my prayers. I call out louder and press my hands against him, they stick

to his chest. The circle that I trace across his face and throat are slow and clumsy, leading me to

his throat, where the pain constricts him. My hands are already golden, the glow reaching

through the honey. I pull the festering poison from the stingers with my healing touch and the

glow from my hands seems to find its way inside him, but his chest continues to be still.

    Selfish. Selfish. I berate myself as I wait to see his breath recovered. Did my worry just

cost this man’s life? I move my hands to his chest, my fingers feel the uneven welts. I find

myself bargaining with prayer again, not for myself this time, but for him. This man beneath my

hands has saved my life twice now I plead that he will not to pay for it with his own.    

    “Please, please, please.” I curse myself for my slowness.

    His eyes flutter open after his chest rises in one long breath. Tarik’s blue eyes stare at me

and I reach out for his face. His weak hand curls around mine as he takes my finger in his mouth

and licks the end.

    “I thought you would taste good.” He winks before closing his eyes again, his face

smooth, but sticky.

    “Praises. Praises. Praises.” I sigh and sag back on my heels. I wonder if I’ve ever

cared about those I’ve ever healed before. I bow my head and lay it on Tarik’s once again

beating chest. His hand slowly stokes my hair, before stopping limp in sleep on my back. I stay

there until the fire threatens to go out from neglect and the night starts to descend through the tall

pines. Night comes early in this tight valley of high, cold cliffs.

    Although I’m surrounded by the overwhelming smell of smoke and damp rocks the sweet

smell of honey fills my nose and I absently lick the honey from the rest of my fingers. I glance

over at Tarik, tucked next to the fire. Healed. Alive.

    I pull a blanket over him and tuck myself into the bedroll across from him, but I can’t

tuck my thoughts away as neatly. They escape and won’t be returned with deep breaths or

prayer. I give up on sleep and find myself absently sucking on the finger Tarik licked and watch

his sleeping profile across the fire. There is relief that he didn’t know I healed him, but the hope

bubbling up in my belly is not related to that. It makes me smile unwillingly, a hope of

something I don’t know and can’t name, but it has me replaying the memory of him licking the

honey off my finger as the fire burns to embers.

teaching vision boards/word of the year/personal progress goals to the young women

Bronwyn's vision board for her word "JOURNEY." 

*Choosing a "word of the year."  I went in during a combined YW Sunday lesson and talked for a bout 10 minutes on word of the year.  Each girl chose a word over the next couple of weeks and let their leaders know.  The leaders had individual necklaces made for each of the girls (including the incoming Beehives).  I happened to substitute for the 11-year old class the Sunday after the activity and each of the girls were wearing their necklaces.  It was so cute, I had to snap a pic.

*Vision Board activity night.  The leaders gathered poster board, magazines, and glue sticks.  I spoke at the beginning of the activity about vision boards for about 5-10 minutes, and then the girls spent the evening making their vision boards.  After talking with the President, who is continuing the activity this year, but making a few changes, the leaders are going to provide a picture of Christ and the temple for each girl, and each girl's vision board will be a reflection of their personal progress goals, using church magazines.  

*New Beginnings.  I came and spoke to the parents and girls about the concept of "Word of the Year" for about 10-15 minutes.  I had worksheets and pencils for the parents to be thinking and answering a few questions.  The leaders had each chosen a word as well, to be doing the activity with the girls, and wanted to encourage the parents to chose a word.  I think it struck a chord with a few parents, I have to admit when I looked out at the audience and was asking soul questions and giving them quiet time that I saw some pretty dazed and bored faces.  I even called out a few people and said I didn't see their pencils moving.  I realized after the activity, I rarely speak to a mixed group.  YW, yes.  Relief Society, yes.  Men, women, and young women.  No.  I also think that at 7:00 on a weekday night, many people weren't coming with their thinking caps on.  They wanted to come and sit and listen and get refreshments and go home:).  

*Monthly check-ups.  Our YW President didn't want the concept to be forgotten during the year.  She asked YW to give little updates on their words during opening exercises, or little challenges with their words.

*Evening in Excellence.  In the fall each of the girls brought their vision boards and had their own tables to display their project and boards.  

This was a sample board I made for the Young Women.  I realized as I was making it that the 8 Young Women Values worked along really nicely with the 8 goals I make each year.  I chose a color block that coordinated with each of the values and stamped the name of the values on the square.  I hot glued little clothespins in each square and clipped a visual goal for each one.  I thought this would be an awesome way to keep moving through personal progress goals.  Goals could be changed up as they were finished. I also clipped a list of each of the goals on the side.  

goals worksheet

 

Preparation makes for the best fun. 

“The key to living a great story is to find that place where your passions and the saving

of many live intersect. . . A wise men once taught me a mental trick. He said if you want to

live a meaningful life, imagine yourself ten years from now, then ask yourself what you’ll wish

you’d done by then. Then do those things. . .It’s amazing how priorities float to the top when we

consider our lives in hindsight.”—Donald Miller, Storyline

 

1.  Make your goals.  

-- Make specific, attainable goals, that don't depend on anyone else-- goals that push you out of

your comfort zone, but are realistic. Try to make a majority of your goals things you can mark

off at the end of the year. Ex. rather than “Be an awesome mom,” maybe your goal is to take

each kid on three one-on- one dates. Instead of “exercise more” try walk twenty minutes in the

morning three days a week or run a 5K this fall.

-- Limit your goals. I have landed on 8 goals a year and that is the perfect match for me (20 was

WAY too many and one didn’t hit all the areas of my life). I make very few “daily” goals, because

they make me feel like I am failing if I miss a day. For the past four years I have made goals for

the following areas: family history, body, relationships, self, service, voice (a way to write or

vocalize my thoughts), mental, and spiritual.

 

-- PUT YOUR GOALS WHERE YOU CAN SEE THEM!  This was a mistake I made one year.  I

couldn't remember my goals!  I had a vision board for my word of the year-- but I would have to

read my journal to find my goals every few months and then I realized I was behind on them all

and kind of gave up.  Try using Pinterest as a “vision board” and consider using your vision

board as a screensaver on your computer and/or phone.

-- Be prayerful about your goals. I consult my patriarchal blessing and after choosing my goals I ask for a special

Priesthood blessing for this purpose.  I figure the New Year is like a "back to school" blessing for adults.

 

2.  Write down the why for your goals.

-- Give yourself extra motivation to accomplish your goals-- with the clear reasoning behind it.

 

3. Write down the potential barriers and solutions.

 

4. Create an “inciting incident”—something that forces you into action

-- For example: Sign up for a cooking class or marathon or share your goals with a group of

friends or on social media.

 

5. Choose an accountability partner

-- Work with someone who has a similar goal or just check in with each other daily, or weekly.

My best friend and I have individual challenges and text each other when we are finished with

them. One year I had a goal to write a book in a month and I posted a picture every day on

social media as I worked toward it.

 

3.  Make a reward or imagine a “climatic scene” (a scene that only can happen

when you finish your goal).

-- Motivate yourself with a special treat. I try to make my rewards related to the goal.  Ex;

nourishing my body (reward): a new blender, cooking class, or night at a new restaurant.

-- Post a picture of the reward next to your goal on your vision board or yourself.

-- Imagine how you will FEEL when the goal is finished. Imagine being at the top of Mt. Timp.

-- Have a celebration at the end of the year with friends and share your successes and failures

from the year before and then make a new vision board for the next year.

word of the year worksheet

 

Each year I choose a word of the year. It's a guide, a companion, a mantra I repeat to myself every day. Last year was FIERCE--a word that I leaned on and one that reminded me to be fierce about the way I chose to spend my time. It allowed me to say no at times and yes at other times. I dug deep into studying women in the scriptures who I believed were fierce and later those examples helped me dig in deep in my own life as I strove to be fierce in difficult circumstances. In the end, I hope I was most fierce in my love and loyalty to my family, friends and faith. In December the word ALCHEMY began to whisper to me. As I struggled to make sense of trials a friend wrote about how often experiences, rough drafts, and first tries are merely COMPOST for beautiful things to grow in. I loved that concept and looked for art that represented growing things, rising up, nourishing roots and healing. But COMPOST wasn't a word that inspired me, and then ALCHEMY came. The process of turning lead to gold. Ordinary things to magic. A chance to watch and mold the past to gold and to seek each day of 2016 for the shimmery, golden moments that may be passed by if not mined properly. Losing my Grandpa has made a few things more clear--the ordinary moments truly are the most precious. I want to be the mother, wife, friend and teacher that makes others feel like gold--like my Grandpa did for me. ALCHEMY is a process, so I won't rush or strangle it with worry and stress--but look forward to what grows this year--or merely what I see that is already here with alchemist's eyes.--written January 2016.

 

Word of the Year Worksheet

 

“One day we will take that unavoidable step and cross from this mortal sphere into the next

estate. One day we will look back at our lives and wonder if we could have been better, made

better decisions, or used our time more wisely. To avoid some of the deepest regrets of life, it

would be wise to make some resolutions today. Therefore, let us: Resolve to spend more time

with those we love. Resolve to strive more earnestly to become the person God wants us to

be. Resolve to find happiness, regardless of our circumstances. It is my testimony that many

of the deepest regrets of tomorrow can be prevented by following the Savior today. If we have

sinned or made mistakes—if we have made choices that we now regret—there is the precious

gift of Christ’s Atonement, through which we can be forgiven. We cannot go back in time and

change the past, but we can repent. The Savior can wipe away our tears of regret and remove the

burden of our sins. His Atonement allows us to leave the past behind and move forward with

clean hands, a pure heart, and a determination to do better and especially to become

better.”—President Uchtdorf, “Of Regrets and Resolutions.”

A “word of the year” is a word that can be a companion you most need, a word you will say to

yourself over and over, a word to define your goals for the year. Some years call for soft and

restful words, other years call for brave and powerful words.

What word will help you grow into your divine potential this year?

Pray. Ask. Read your patriarchal blessing, conference talks and the scriptures for ideas. Listen.

These questions might help you choose your own word of the year.

What do I want to become this year?

______________________________________________________________________________

What attributes do I want to possess?

______________________________________________________________________________

What gifts and talents can I grow and share?

______________________________________________________________________________

In 2017 I want to feel more

______________________________________________________________________________

What would this time next year look like if I learned to live from a place of

______________________________________________________________________________

story*tune*truth*allow*light*trust*change*grow*whole*grace*beauty*roots*sacred*joy*virtue

*heal*slow*savor*peace*soar*up*carry*soft*ponder*rock*first*north*spirit*one*happy*holy*

healthy*still*peace*yes*hold*rise*evolve*share*possible*shine*wisdom*explore*dance*start*

refill*well*deep*strong*expand*reflect*finish*refuge*renew*calm*power*retreat*soul*present

*hope*create*center*plant*mend*focus*hope*life*brave*courage*thrive*vision*order*open*

invite*forward*belong*follow*collect*serve*ask*search*invite*breathe*gather*inspire*today*

faith*walk*play*start*moment*here*now*rise*stand*delight*nest*next*explore*home*reach*

content*capture*progress*reflect*close*listen*whisper*love*path*give*gift*bend*dream*fresh

*guide*divine*order*prepare*seek*study*depth*shift*kind*calm*safe*heart*nourish*expand*

space*gentle*grit*connect*charity*serene*close*ever*fill*learn*teach*honor*fly*adore*art*

align*action*heal*ignite*stretch*smile*focus*shine*know*wonder*rest*vision*whole*grace*

dig*nurture*hope*support*north*restore*tend*glow*bless*gift*flourish*color*right*true*

Ways to make your word visible and meaningful this year.

Study the word (or related words) in conference talks and scriptures, mark your word in a special

color.

Tell your friends and family about your word. They will be a support and a look out for quotes,

ideas, and resources for your word.

Find a song that has your word, or conveys the feeling behind your word. Create a “word”

playlist. For my birthday, a dear friend created a personalized CD with 10 songs about my word

of the year.

Make a creative challenge for yourself: ex. Take a photo each day for a month of things that

convey your word to you.

Find a picture that embodies your word. Or, find lots of pictures and past them on a poster

board, pin them on a corkboard, put them on your fridge, make a Pinterest board, create a collage

as a screensaver for your phone or your computer of the images.

Carry a keychain, wear a necklace or bracelet, engraved with your word.

Choose individual words as a family, or a family word, and create a special family home

evening. Evaluate throughout the year.

Gather friends and throw a party to kick off your individual words of the year and celebrate your

successes (and mourn your losses) at the end of the year.

Create a monthly check list. For example for the word NOURISH maybe it is making a

smoothie and drinking it every day OR maybe it's nourishing the soul and listening to hymns

every day OR nourishing a talent every day and practicing the piano for 30 minutes.

the vision boards of years past

 I was first introduced to vision boards during my Whole-istic Woman class and I fell in love with this creative process.   Simply put, vision boards are a visual way to process your goals, intentions, or "word of year."  I have taught this to several groups and have had several requests to teach more classes or to send along information for women to teach their own groups.  I am compiling that information on my blog for easy reference. 

2011: HEAL.  I simply took a stack of magazines, gave myself a quiet hour, played some inspiring music and cut out whatever spoke to my soul and glued it on the board.  

This one makes me tear up just looking at it.  I started this vision board with an idea of how I wanted to organize my day.  I wanted the pictures in a circular fashion, following the arc of a clock during the day.  In my mind I thought it would be mostly comprised of household tasks, like a "Flylady" cleaning plan.  Instead, it became a beautiful picture of anchors throughout the day: morning personal devotional, family dinner (at the 6) and bedtimes snuggles.  All of it anchored by "The Family Proclamation" and the picture of Christ serving.  If you look closely, there is a little picture of a stopwatch with household tasks.  When I found that picture, I realized that was only a small part of my day, but there was a much bigger picture I needed to focus on.  I think this might be a representative of a lifetime, rather than just one year.

My friends and I made vision boards at a mini book group getaway.  I had a growing daughter on my mind.  I thought of what I wanted her to learn about womanhood.  Again, this is one that I just opened up magazines (in a group setting) and this is what spoke to my soul at the time.

This was a board I created, focusing on the different goals in my life.  Each background color represented a different area--with images that represented how I wanted to feel:   body, relationships, self, service, expression, mind, and spirit.  This board inspired me later, to create yearly goals in each area.  This is still my favorite way to outline goals.  

As a side note, for those who are yogis, the colors and goals follow the chakras.  

I had this board up in my kitchen for a very long time.  I made this one to motivate me and to visualize how I wanted to NOURISH my family and why. 

A family LOVE vision board.

Sometimes new words start whispering to me at the end of the year.  This one was the word WHOLE.  I thought it would be my word of the year, so I made a vision board during the fall and lived with it for a couple of months.  During that time, it did the work it needed to do, and I chose a different word for the next year. 

I made this one during some very stressful times;).  I focused on how I wanted to FEEL and tried to infused a lot of HOPE in this one--when personal and financial challenges seemed crushing.  Onward, Ever Onward.

2012 MAGIC:  Things had seemed heavy during 2011: HEAL, and the next year I wanted a word and a feeling that would capture the beauty and magic of life.  This board is HUGE.  When I finished it, Tim declared it, "The Mother of ALL Vision Boards" and it hung in my kitchen, where I couldn't miss it.  It was amazing to me how many of these things happened during the year.  It was the year I started writing my novel and began SOULstice Sister gatherings, both things full of magic.

This is a close-up of the goals that were listed in the corner and underneath the "reward" for each goal.  Not all of the rewards had been filled in when I took this picture.  Sadly,  this section fell off during one of my transports to teach a vision board class.  I made the vision board with big squares of scrapbook paper glued together, and then pinned it up on a cork board.  I ran twine from pushpins to each image that represented the goal.  I kept this in my laundry room, and read over my goals every single day, and also the reward.  I loved the little check boxes, and it was so rewarding to check them off as the year progressed.

2013: LIGHT.  This is probably my very favorite board, word, and goals. It just all came together.  I liked the format, the poster glued on the corkboard.  Later, I used a corkboard, but the pictures would often fall off, and at the end of the year I had a handful of images, but not a board.  I also benefited from constantly seeing and reading my goals.  

 2014: DAILY.  This was my first vision board for 2014.  Each quadrant represented a different role in my life: Mother, Wife, Creator, and Daughter (of God).  This one never quite struck a chord with me and I went back to the other way of making goals that was a better fit (body, relationships, self, service, expression, mind, and spirit).  Although I did really love how combining the two family history fan charts (one for me and one for Tim) turned out, with the little picture of our family in the middle.

2014: DAILY (take two).  DAILY was the word that I wrestled with for the entire year.  I also wrestled with the grief of losing my brother-in-law.  I finally came to peace with both of them at the very end of the year.  Later, the greiving process may be a difficult time to make goals and vision boards.  Indeed.  There is so much upheaval.  I think, if I were to do it again, I would make a vision board to support that grieving process specifically and honor that process and not push myself to make other goals.  It was also interesting to have some inspiration concerning DAILY as my word of the year just a couple of months ago.  I like to know that these words work deep into my soul and I continue to learn from them.  Certainly, they are not limited to a one-year time frame.

2015: FIERCE.  These were all fierce women who I looked up to and wanted to emulate.  If I could chose one picture to represent MY ENTIRE LIFE VISION BOARD, it would be that small square picture painted by Annie Henrie of the family cuddled up under The Tree of Life.  I used a magnet board to make it easier to change things around, because of the prior year's vision boarding indecision.  I think I do prefer a poster, so I have it hanging around later.  Although, in one class a teacher shared that she keeps a goal binder and has a very fluid vision board.  Whenever she reaches and realizes one goals, she takes that picture off and puts it in the binder as documentation that she has reached her goal, and then she puts a new picture and a new goal up immediately.  I think that is a great idea as well.  Although, I do like seeing goals that I have finished along with the ones I am still working on.  It helps me see my progress.

2016: ALCHEMY.  I loved and still love all of these images.  The gold, the growing, the roots. . .and the quote about serenity.  

 

At one point, during the spring, I cleared everything off my vision board, except the picture of the meditating woman looking centered and grounded.  It was a difficult year, and I felt like my board was mocking me a bit;).  So, I decided to start over.  This board became my "What I know for sure" board.  I would only add images when I knew I knew that thing was something I knew deep in my heart was for sure.  Images came very slowly.  I added a picture of nature, because I knew that for sure, after I was out in nature.  It felt random and strange, but my soul said I knew horses for sure, so I didn't question that and added it.  Later, during the fall, Bronwyn would apply and be chosen for a really amazing horseback riding program.  Every time I dropped her off and picked her up my soul would sigh (the same way it does in a bookstore, or garden nursery).  There were  a few images I would add (thinking I knew it for sure), and then take off, and then add, and take off and sometimes add back.  This was the board I ended up with at the end of the year.  I didn't take it down for this year.  I may still be adding.

 

2017: CONNECT.  Connect: God, Soul, Family, Femininity, Nature, Growing Things, Body, Home, Friends, Gifts, Purpose, Intuition, Joy and Truth.  

bug out bag

yesterday, i felt a shaking and a quaking while i was sitting on the couch.  i looked around, confused.  "what on earth?"  was tim somehow shaking the house?  no, i heard the water running and he was in the shower.  strange.  15 minutes later, i told tim about the weird shaking and just for kicks googled "utah earthquake."  sure enough, a 3.3 earthquake had happened 15 minutes before.

i asked tim to get down our 72-hour kits, as i imagined the kids attempting to fit in their matching fleece sets from the children's place that would now be about 5 sizes to small, so i could update them.  i went through a "preparedness phase" mostly after reading a lot of post-apocalyptic books;).  one prepper outlined what you would want in your "bug-out bag"--a bag you could grab quickly in an emergency so you could "bug out." 

it also seemed the right time to write about another kind of "bug-out bag."  one that may be used even more than our 72-hour kits.  i'm hoping to make one tailored for each of my kids for christmas.  i might include a few favorite toys, small stuffed animals, meditative coloring book, etc.

this summer, inspired by an online class, i made my own "emotional bug-out bag."  i bought a new faux-leather small backpack to store a list of personal comfort items, as well as items suggested in the class.  when an emotional crisis comes and you want to curl up in the fetal position in your bed--this is a perfect bag to grab.  think of making one for yourself and including:

something to smell:

something to taste:

something to listen to:

something to eat:

something to feel:

something to write in:

something to control breath:

 

some things i included in mine:

Justin's almond butter packs

Squeezy fruit packets

Ostrich Jerky (there are only a few things that sound edible to me when i am really stressed, strangely it included this).

Hylands Nerve Tonic

Bach's Rescue Remedy

Digestive Blend essential oil

Deep Blue essential oil lotion(great for muscle tension)

Ginger chews

Peppermint herbal tea (when I get stressed I carry most of it as nervous energy in  my stomach)

Mints

Bubbles (controlled breathing)

Punching balloon (controlled breathing--and you can punch the heck out of it, if needed:))

Small journal and Pen

Fuzzy mini blanket

Water bottle (I finally found my very favorite water bottle, but it looks like it might not be sold anymore.  Sigh.  But, a spiffed-up insulated version is here).

Calming (and get back up) playlistand earbuds

Meditation playlist

 

i would also like to put together a little book of quotes/pictures/inspiring stuff.

catch and release: emotions

My top two very favorite tools for life:  morning pages (three stream of consciousness free-written pages every morning as outlined in The Artist's Way) and Kundalini Yoga/Meditation.  This has been a process over the past several years as I have discovered them, used them, and processed through a LOT of "stuff."  This is an explanation of emotional processing I fell in love with and wish I would have had it sooner.  But, I always wonder if I would have truly understood it any sooner anyway if I hadn't yet been through the process.  I repressed SO many emotions that I thought were "bad":  jealously, anger, sadness, rage, boundaries, etc.  I didn't realize I could feel "catch" those feelings and then let them go.  I tired to ignore that I was hooked at all, and instead, thrashed around with them while they were on my hook, until I was tangled up in line cutting off my circulation and exploded at the pain.  Which, obviously was way worse than just feeling it, without judgement, and letting it go on it's way.  Morning pages have helped me identify WHAT I was really feeling, but it has taken a long time for me to not judge my feelings.  Yoga and meditation has helped me to hone my intuition: to feel WHERE I am feeling something in my body.  To LISTEN to my body and TRUST it and FOLLOW THROUGH with those feelings.  Learning and practicing this for myself has helped me to honor my own children's emotions.  Before (sadly) I think I unintentionally shamed them for feeling those "bad" feelings (just as I had for myself).  Now, I try to hear out their feelings a bit without judgement and it usually leads to better actions.  "I can understand why you feel never want to breathe the same air as your brother,"  where before I might have made them feel guilty about those horrible feelings and told them how they "should" feel toward their siblings.  That often led to "bad actions."  Now (as much as I can), I try to help them "catch" the emotion without judgement and "release" it and often with the "release" comes a "release" of bad actions.  The combination of morning pages and meditation has helped me clean out A LOT of emotions and feelings I had dangling/tangled on my line for years that I wasn't even aware of.  I will be honest it has been a TON of work.  At times the untangling has been exhausting and I wondered if I would EVER be free of it all.  I feel a shift, that as my past is untangled, I can now deal with the daily things that I "catch" that are not attached to scores of other attached fish.  It becomes more of a "daily mental and emotional shower" instead of a long soak of past grime. 

 

 

 

 

    "The way to get feelings out is to catch and release. When we used to go fishing, we pulled every fish we caught out of the water and took it home even if we weren’t going to eat it. Then we realized fish were living creatures. We shouldn’t kill them unless we intended to eat them. It wasted Life. We developed a new way to fish called “catch and release.” We caught the fish, tagged it to prove the big one didn’t get away, then we set the fish free. That’s all we need to do with feelings. We can deal with a feeling in less than a minute (although many take longer), once we learn the trick. We release the feeling and old belief, and Life teaches us something new. Then along comes another emotion, another belief, and a new lesson. It’s a natural, organic process called spiritual and emotional growth. We don’t control the process. Life grows us.

 

    Resistance, judging feelings as positive or negative, and talking about feelings endlessly will often turn emotions into a bigger ordeal than necessary. I spent ten years grieving the loss of my son. But grief isn’t one feeling. It’s thousands of emotions—one after another along with many lessons about life, living, and death. The process for feeling any emotion of the hundreds that exist is almost exactly the same. We’re aware and quiet long enough to identify and feel the emotion. We connect with the original emotional energy. Let the emotion be what it is. Sink into it. Don’t resist, push, or try to force it. Don’t pretend or act as if. Give in. Surrender. Honor, acknowledge it, whatever words we want to use. We connect with the feeling. We completely feel it. It has to be a perfect fit—like trying on the right pair of jeans.

 

    Resistance to and judgments about emotions can make them unpleasant and hurt more. The more skilled we become at surrendering to the feeling—the quicker we tag the fish and get it back into the water—the easier feeling emotions becomes. Nonresistance helps neutralize pain. The second we stop caring what feeling is in us, the problems from feeling the feeling are eliminated. Whether it’s anger, confusion, hatred, or fear, we pull that fish in and tag it. It’s ours. We become one with the feeling. Then we breathe it out. Let it swim away into the ocean to wherever felt feelings go.

 

    Judging emotions as positive or negative, good or bad, also makes feeling them more complicated. We judge some emotions as “bad, negative” feelings. Then we call others “good, positive” feelings. But the truth is, they’re all the same. They’re feelings. There isn’t any difference between feeling sad and happy—except the judgment we make in our minds. The second we stop judging the emotions, surrender to whatever it is, then breathe it out, it’s gone. It doesn’t matter what the feeling is. Think of the most brilliant symphonies ever created. It’s the range of moods that make them so stunning—the deep, moody emotions compared to the light trilling. There’s as much difference between angry and excited as there is between purple and green. They’re both colors. Different, but the same. We might have personal preferences, but they’re all feelings on the color wheel.

 

    The one exception to this is sometimes feelings we call premonitions, or warning feelings. Those may stay with us, like a flashing yellow light, until we see the caution signal flashing.

 

    We need feelings in the world. They help us create great music, books, paintings, and stories. They make everything we do better, because we’re emotionally alive. They help guide us. They tell us when we hate the situation we’re in or whether or not we love what we’re doing and who we’re with. They put life in what we do; they show us what interests us. They’re the color, passion, and spice of life.

 

    I can’t teach you how to catch and release, but you can learn it. You probably won’t be able to do a feeling in thirty seconds in the beginning, any more than you could tag a fish that quickly the first time you went fishing. But you can get better and faster each time. Don’t make it a contest. Take as much time as you need to connect with and feel each feeling. We’re not going to blow through all feelings quickly, but some we can. The most innocuous activities can help bring up and release an emotion—watching movies, laughing, exercising. Our intuition will guide us into doing what we need to trigger emotions. We’ll get an idea. If we don’t ignore it, we’ll do the next thing, feel, learn our lesson, and grow. Obvious activities can trigger emotions: attending family reunions, the death of someone we love, losing a job, or getting a promotion or raise. Events trigger emotions, and so do people’s actions.

 

    Contrary to what we were first taught, we don’t have to tell everyone each feeling we have, even if it’s connected to them. The person was the trigger; the emotion belongs to us. We need to make one person aware of what we’re feeling: ourselves. How do we know when we have to talk to a person about a feeling? After we release the emotion, we’ll be clear. We’ll know what to do. We’ll naturally do it. We’ll trust ourselves. We won’t have to think about it. When we stop trying to figure out life and intellectualize everything, when we begin to feel and release our feelings, we start to live organically. Naturally. We do the next thing. We’re not living emotionally driven lives or being controlled by our feelings. We’re living from our center. There are times we need to talk to a person about a feeling. But do it after we’ve released the emotion. We’ll be more powerful. People mistakenly think the way to express anger is scream, holler, or argue when we’re angry. All that does is cause a fight or allow anger to control us. It weakens us. The most powerful expressions of anger are after we’ve released it. The most effective person in a crisis is the person not acting out of fear. Catch and release is the secret to mastering emotions. We feel each emotion by becoming one with it for a moment. We let it have its way with us. Then we breathe it out—like stale air. Then we ask what we’re supposed to learn—if anything—from the emotion we felt. Or we don’t have to ask—Life will show us. Learning the lesson will occur naturally, by itself.

 

    Sometimes we feel more than one emotion at once: a current feeling and similar past emotions. We can usually tell when this happens because our reaction will be more intense than the situation calls for. If something happens and we overreact, it’s usually because we’re feeling the current emotion along with an emotion (or four) that are similar that we have repressed and have kept living inside us for years. How do we deal with those situations? Catch and release. Intense emotional growth occurs when this happens. Usually our lessons are like courses: We’ll have an introduction, then beginning lessons. We’ll get into the heart of the course, have pop quizzes and tests. Then we’ll finish the class. Emotions will be part of the entire process, but so will letting go of old, limiting beliefs, and letting Life teach us new, healthier ones so we can become more enlightened or “lighter” as we go through Life.

 

    I’ve also found that feelings often come in layers of threes, such as fear, shame, and guilt. Or anger, sadness, and fear. It can be any combination of emotions. But our lessons are leading us to the same place—our Oneness with God, Life, others, and ourselves. Catch and release is the basic process for all the feelings. . . There isn’t one feeling that can’t be handled using this technique other than an occasional premonition. But catch and release takes practice. I’ve been working on it for years. We’ll each get the help, teacher, triggers, and support we need when the time is right, if we’re open and willing to learn. It doesn’t matter where we live or how much money we have. The process will find us. The important idea is the same as when we’re fishing: we have to get the hook in the fish’s mouth. With emotions, we have to completely surrender to and connect with the way the feeling feels. Don’t be scared. It’s only a feeling—emotional energy. It won’t hurt that much, especially if you don’t resist and judge.

 

     Remember, I’m your travel guide. I’ve walked this path. If I can do it, you can too. Keep it simple. Feel whatever we feel."--Melody Beattie, The New Codependency

shannon's alchemy story

I moved into Brook's neighborhood five years ago, right after my divorce. Since I was in survival mode,  the details of that first year are a little blurry but Brook stood out from everyone else.  She was one of my oldest daughter's Young Women's leaders.  My daughter didn't want anything to do with our new ward really. She missed our old neighborhood and her old friends and being shy and introverted didn't help either. But the one person she felt comfortable with was Sister Andreoli.  Brook took special care with my daughter at a time when she was extremely vulnerable and I will always, always be grateful for that.  She would bring her books to read and talk to her about her poems and encourage her to write and paint.  Brook was the embodiment of Christ-like love as she showered my daughter with acceptance and kindness. There were times Brook would come by to drop something off for my daughter and we'd stand on the porch and chat and afterwards, I'd always come away from our conversations feeling strengthened and inspired.  Brook has that affect on people. Through the next few years as I got to know Brook better, I knew she was a kindred spirit. Someone who had been through the flames but had come out refined and more powerful.  One day I got home and found a beautiful painting waiting for me. This painting was my favorite painting but I hadn't been able to afford to buy it. I remember going to Deseret Book and buying the the little 5X7 print and putting it on the fridge, so receiving this gorgeous framed picture, the one I've always wanted, was a huge hug from Heaven.  Of course it was a gift from Brook. Why? It wasn't my birthday. It wasn't Christmas. It was just Brook following a prompting.  She told me she just knew she had to buy it for me. Brook has been God's hands for me and my family countless times.  I'm so grateful to know her and to have been blessed by her kindness and her example.  Matthew 25:35/40  "For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me....Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 

When I was thinking about what I wanted to share about Shannon, I thought of specific conversations on her porch that would be the definition of "wholehearted" from Brene Brown's work.  Shannon was the epitome of vulnerability, compassion, courage, and connection.  I also remember Savannah bringing me flower when Steven passed away, and Shannon bringing a book about Grief.  She was one of the few people that I felt like "got it" and could sit in that space with me.   I realize fully what gifts these are, and perhaps against my will, I see that these gifts are often grown in the furnace of adversity.  Last month, I realized that the over-arching goal in my own life is to live in a space of wholeheartedness--so this is really the highest compliment I could give to Shannon.  I am amazed at the choices that Shannon has made--to continue in faith, hope and not let her circumstances turn her to bitterness and doubts.  I am grateful that Shannon has shared her gifts here.  A particular email came immediately to mind that Shannon wrote, encouraging me to share my writing more widely.  The email is written to me, but I think each of you can see the courage, resilience, and charge that Shannon exudes, because she lived the things she was encouraging me to do and I think each of us, as readers, can benefit from the cheerleading and encouragement this email brings, in whatever ways we have been gifted. 

 

You received a prompting to share something.  Brook, if the spirit is telling you to put yourself out there.  Girl - you put yourself out there. As painful as it is, there's a reason why God gave you this gift. And honey, you have a gift.  Your blogs are so raw and brutally honest and yet so gorgeous in the cadence and the way you word things.  I'm in awe.  This is in no way a compliment because you're my friend.  It's just  me being honest.  

 

We don't get these gifts by chance. There are eternal reasons for them I believe.  I look on it as a mission.  You were given this gift because you have the ability to reach out to others and express what they can't.  People need that. Desperately.  I blogged a ton last year thinking maybe that was what I was supposed to do to support my family.  It was hard.  Some of my blogs, I just scraped the top. But the blogs I pulled out of my soul, those were the ones that resonated with people the most and I got the most feedback on.  Writing, art, music, poetry - none of it matters unless it's truth.  So digging deep is the only way to make something beautiful.  But it makes you vulnerable too.

 

With me in my writing now, it's not about me anymore.  It can't be.  I have 6 people whose very lives depend on me for everything. House, food, etc. etc. I can't waste even a minute caring anymore what anyone thinks about my writing and I have to say that's been the most freeing thing that's ever happened to me.  I can't afford to care.  However, the process is still the same.  I might be typing my guts out every month, but I'm still pulling from my soul as honestly as I can.  So I guess my advice to you would be, take yourself out of the equation.  When you write, write for your children who will someday need to hear those words.  Write for the woman you don't even know who will need to hear your words to make it through one more day.  Write for God.  Pull yourself out and then hook into the spirit and let it all hang out.

 

Excruciating - I know. And God knows that too.  But we're here to learn, to grow and I think to be brave.  I have 6 beautiful reasons to be brave, but I remember what it was like when it was just me and all those nameless faces sitting in judgement.  And I've realized that the only reader that really matters, is God. :) So I hope you allow everyone to see your blogs. And everyone here knows you and loves you. You're going to feel like you're walking around naked for awhile, but that wears off after awhile, when you feel God walking with you.   You know that song, Brave?  http://youtu.be/QUQsqBqxoR4 . Picture your world as beautiful,and a place where you can be the real you, and then picture God looking down from Heaven and smiling because you're fulfilling the measure of your creation.  And then do it

Find Shannon's books here or buy her Fircrest Romance books here (half of all of the proceeds go to support Operation Underground Railroad) and I also love this post about Shannon's writing romance and her real world romance.   This is indeed alchemy in the works right here:  using difficult experiences and incredible talents to benefit others.  I am so proud of you Shannon.

 

Cliff Jumping

By Shannon Thorpe

 

I had one goal when it came to marriage: marry someone normal.  That was it really.  Being raised in a dysfunctional family does weird things to people, but what we crave most is normality. Boring, everyday, normal.  When I met my husband and found out his father had been a bishop and his mother had been a Relief Society president, I was in love.  Finally, at long last, I would get my chance to be normal.

Sadly, that dream died within five months of marriage when I realized my husband was a porn addict.  Finding this out, broke my heart and shattered a lot of perceptions of what I thought my new and shiny life would be like.  I had to come to terms with the fact that my life was never going to be normal. It wasn’t even going to come close. 

            When you’re married to a porn addict, you live life in a constant cycle. First: He’s addicted and acting out and life is dark and for the most part, miserable. You get used to being ignored, because to be blunt, you’re not good enough, and you’re just in the way of the addiction.  Then comes part two. He gets caught (again). He’s so sorry and he’ll never do it again. He’s so sincere and remorseful, that of course you believe him.  Many trips to the bishop’s office and boom, he’s a new man. Or is he? We then start part three, he stops. Picture an alcoholic who’s white knuckling it. This can be pretty tense too. Angry outbursts, and guilt trips. I’ve heard, “If you’d just been a better wife, I wouldn’t have to do this,” more times than I can count.  I was even told this by a well meaning Bishop once. I’m glad that even then, I didn’t believe that.

But if the repentance is real, and some times it is, then we experience something I like to call semi-normal.  This is where I cross my fingers and pray like crazy that he can stay strong. Because when he’s being strong, and humble and partaking of the atonement, life was actually pretty good.  A little broken, a little bruised, but so close to normal I was in heaven.

            I was married for 17 and a half years when I realized we were restarting the cycle again.  But this time was different.  This time, I didn’t have feelings of peace that everything would eventually be okay.  This time, I had feelings that I needed to take my kids and leave.  As I pushed the feelings aside, I began having dreams urging me to go as well.

The only problem was I loved my façade of normal. People at church looked at my cute little family and thought we were normal. No one knew how messed up my marriage was. If I divorced my husband my kids would struggle; everyone knows the statistics. Life would be unstable and I’d done everything in my power to give my kids what I never had. Normal, boring bliss. How could I take something so precious away from them?

            During this time, I was serving in the Young Women’s.  I was teaching the Laurels every Sunday how to be faithful, good women who would someday be awesome wives who were married in the temple.  How in the world could someone who was contemplating divorce, teach impressionable young girls about forever families?

            I went to the temple over and over again and each time I got the same answer. Leave. Leave now. I happen to know what happens when you ignore the spirit: really bad stuff. Trust me on this. So I bit the bullet and told my husband that I wanted a divorce. I’ve never seen anyone so shocked in my life. I’d forgiven him so many times, why wouldn’t I just forgive him again? That’s all he needed, just one more chance and he’d never do it again.

We went to the Bishop soon after my announcement and he immediately sent us to marriage therapy. But when the therapist turned to my husband and told him he needed to respect me and let me go, it set in. This was real.  I was going to leave my husband. I have to admit I was terrified.  We put the house up for sale and contacted mediators to help us with the divorce process. I was living my own worst nightmare.

            During this time, my husband turned into my enemy. He did everything he could to hurt me. He took control of all the money and only gave me enough to pay the mortgage. He told me to figure out how to pay for everything else. He thought I should experience what being a single mom was going to be like if that’s what I wanted so much.  It took nine very long months to sell the house while he refused to move out.  But worst of all, he latched onto my oldest daughter and poured all of his anger and negativity into my sensitive little girl. 

            I could see the damage he was doing to her and felt helpless to stop it. The day I moved out, leaving almost everything behind, was one of the best days of my life.  The relief was so intense, I felt like floating. 

            And then the games started. My soon to be ex, refused to sign off on the funding on the sale of our home and also refused to sign the divorce papers, which meant he didn’t legally have to do anything.  I was stuck.  I was in a new house with no way to pay the rent or feed my six children because I’d maxed out all of my credit cards paying all of our bills for the last nine months. 

            I remember it was October of 2011 and it was conference weekend. I was desperate and going crazy. I kneeled down and begged Heavenly Father to help me.  I told Him that I had followed the spirit and done everything I could to be obedient to His promptings.  In return, I needed one little miracle. 

            The prompting came immediately that I needed to offer my ex a building lot that we co-owned in exchange for his signing the divorce papers.  This lot was a big chunk of change but I knew it meant nothing in comparison to my freedom.  So I texted my ex that afternoon and he promptly responded that he’d take the deal.

            During the next three years, life was not easy. Not even close. Being the single mom to six kids is never easy, but it’s especially hard when you’re scraping by. I had an ex whose biggest joy in life was causing me problems and bad mouthing me to friends, acquaintances and especially, our children. I remember walking through Walmart and seeing a woman I had served with in Young Women’s and as I smiled in greeting, excited to catch up, she lifted her chin and turned her eyes away from me as if she didn’t know me. I stood there in shock and pain and wondered how my friends could believe blatant lies about me so easily. 

Being divorced was one of the most humbling things I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never been judged so easily, and so wrongly by so many people. It’s not easy being divorced in the LDS church. You need thick skin and the ability to rise above the careless cruelty of well-meaning yet judgmental people.  There were times I didn’t rise as high as I should. During this time, I had three good friends who stuck by me loyally and were angels to me and my kids and I will be forever grateful for them.

One of the biggest trials I experienced while being a single mom was my oldest daughter’s eating disorder.  Out of all of my children, she was the one affected the most by her father’s choice to pour all of his emotions into a young girl who had no idea how to cope with it.  She turned from a beautiful, confident, happy girl, into an angry, miserable, anxiety ridden young woman, who would cut herself and starve herself in a desire to ease her pain. 

            I was blessed to be able to get her help at the Center for Change and the therapists there were able to undo a lot of the damage her father had done. To this day, I still look down at the scars on her arms and want to cry.  Seeing your children hurt, breaks our hearts a million times worse than any pain we experience ourselves.

            But through all the financial problems, emotional problems and battles with my ex, I could feel God with me.  Even then, sometimes I wondered, why? Why, if Heavenly Father wanted me to leave my ex, why did life have to be so hard?  Why did my daughter have to suffer? Shouldn’t this have been just a little bit easier?

            The answer finally came one day as I was reading in First Nephi, chapter 18.  Here, Nephi was doing everything right. He’d built that boat against all odds, he’d done everything right but his brothers wanted to hurt him and they bound him with cords and no amount of begging could soften Laman and Lemuel’s hearts.  And then I read this:

            “…they did treat me with much harshness; nevertheless, the Lord did suffer it that he might show forth his power, …” 1 Nephi Ch. 18 Verse 11

            “Nevertheless, I did look unto my God and I did praise him all the day long; and I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions.” 1 Nephi Ch. 18 Verse 16.

            After reading that chapter, I felt peace about my trials.  Just because we’re doing what’s right, doesn’t mean it will be easy. It’s going to be hard, but the feeling of having God with you – that’s what gives you the strength to endure and endure it well.  You really can have peace in the midst of the storms.

            It was during this time, that I came to the end of my financial rope. I either had to go to work and leave my kids so I could pay the bills, or I had to find a way to work from home. The only marketable skill I had was writing. I’d written about 9 or so books for the LDS market at that point and knew very well that I couldn’t support a family of 7 by writing.  It just wasn’t done.  But when I prayed about it, I knew that that’s exactly what God wanted me to do. 

            I felt like Nephi being told to build a boat. Impossible!  But I also knew that if God was with me, I could do it. 1 Nephi, 17:50 “If God had commanded me to do all things, I could do them.” So I followed my promptings and went to work. It turns out God loves doing the impossible. (At least in my opinion.)

            I wrote day and night. I wrote every spare chance I had. I put out e-books about once a month, and miracle of miracles, I was able to put food on the table and pay my bills and I didn’t have to leave my children to do it.

            I have never felt so loved as I did when I realized God was taking care of me.  When I received the prompting to leave my ex, it felt like God was asking me to take my children in my arms and jump off a cliff.  I have always craved stability and normal and God was asking me to give all that up and trust Him. 

            Well, I did and I have come to find that God has very strong arms.  He can catch us.  He caught me and I have never regretted following the promptings I received.

            It’s been over five years since my divorce and I am now currently re-married, (blissfully so) and I have so many blessings that I can’t even fathom why God would be so kind to me.  When I look back on that little girl from the dysfunctional family who only wanted to be happy and normal, I’d like to take her aside and tell her normal isn’t that great.  Peace though, peace is wonderful.  Faith and obedience bring something far greater than stability. They bring something called joy.

            I’m grateful for all of my trials and experiences. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am. Who am I? I’m a cliff jumper, a mom, a cherished wife and a very loved daughter of God.

 

mandee's alchemy story

 

I moved into a beautiful neighborhood in Alpine, UT soon after Jordan and I were married. There were so many sweet, amazing people in the neighborhood. We felt so welcomed there. I remember going walking with a friend in the neighborhood one morning, while we were walking we ran into Brook walking and we joined up. We had the most amazing conversation and I returned home filled with the spirit and knew that Brook was my kinda girl. 

 

I think my most favorite memory of Brook is when I went to her house for book club. I am not an avid reader and I don't think I even read the book they were discussing, but I felt compelled to go. Brook had tables set up to create little cards from old books and sayings to keep with us and remind us of our worth. I had so much fun creating mine and some for my girls. At the end, Brook pulled out some cards she had made especially for each person there. She made a beautiful one for me and I kept that card with me for a long time (until my toddler found it in my purse and destroyed it...sad day). It meant so much to me and the words she had put on that little card for me were just what I needed to read. I would pull it out ever so often and read the words, shift my perspective and feel gratitude for my sweet friend. 

 

I think that is the thing with Brook. I have felt compelled on many occasions to reach out to her and to ask her for advice and to look to her as an example. I treasure the time I got to live by her and other amazing women at a time in my life that I needed extra strength and strong examples to emulate as we established our new little family.

 

Mandee embodies every single part of this quote.  I distinctly remember several times she either bore her testimony or gave a talk and I thought that is EXACTLY the image of a strong, confident, poised, beautiful, well-spoken, faithful woman that I would want to hold up for my daughter.  Which, is why I asked her to come speak to my YW group when I was a teacher.  She is truly a woman who uses her many talents in the service of others.  Also, she is a heck of a lot of fun (I do remember a girl's night out that involved motorized carts:)).  I am more than heart-broken that she is no longer in the ward (along with some other of my very favorite friends who have moved).  There is a certain amount of comfort that comes from being surrounded by amazing families and women who work with your children or work in callings with you that are sorely missed.  

 

. . .AND this was not the only time we showed up at church (unplanned) in matching attire.  But, there is no one else I would rather be caught being "twinsies" with.  Also, THIS quote I love, love, love, love.  THIS quote IS Mandee.  The quote had been used in Relief Society this Sunday and I kind of forced Mandee to take a picture of the two of us with it.  What is even better, is Mandee, her sister and her mom started the company that makes these amazing frames and beautifully designed inspiring quotes (www.whimzicalwoods.com). 

 

 

 

 

Mandee's Story: 

And there I was, driving away from my family, my comfort and all I had ever known, back to someone who was so unstable, unrecognizable, someone so different who I was supposed to love and try to help. My heart sank. As I rounded the corners of the canyon road my stomach began to turn, I felt so sick and my mind started going a thousand miles an hour. I only felt this feeling when I was pregnant. Was I pregnant? Or was I just nervous about the unknown? Was this rehab going to work? Would my long lost, best friend return to me this time? Was it going to be like all the other times where I hoped and prayed and hoped and prayed only to have it all fall apart? Oh gosh, am I pregnant? What will I do? Is my husband finally going to be who he needs to be for my little girls and me? The questions just kept coming, but no answers. The sickness got worse and worse, as I got further and further down the road and deeper and deeper into my thoughts.

I reached my destination and quickly bought a test at the drugstore. I headed to the bathroom reading the directions and did just what I was supposed to. I never took my eyes off the test. I knew how hard it would be if that test were positive. Slowly but surely both lines got darker and darker and I knew… I was pregnant. How could this happen?! I knelt down and prayed and asked Heavenly Father to take this away from me. This was not going to be good for my husband’s recovery and I asked Him to please not make us go through this. I knew I would be alone and I knew I would be sick, oh so sick, alone, taking care of two toddlers. I knew my husband didn’t have the ability to take care of me let alone take care of the children who would need it while I was sick. I was so scared.

I called my mom and asked her to please call my mother in law and let her know. I knew everyone would think I was crazy to let this happen when we were already struggling. Just then, my husband returned from the treatment center, the one I had placed all my hopes and dreams into, the one I thought would be the miracle that would save my marriage and restore my family. He looked at me, and I noticed how dark his eyes were, the light, the twinkle I had always loved was gone. He told me he no longer was going to be a member of the church we had both been so devoted to at one time. I thought my heart would break into a million pieces. How could one person change so quickly? How did drugs take the man I loved and turn him into something so different? I knew I had to tell him about the test so, I reluctantly told him the news about the pregnancy. He acted strange like he was happy but terrified. He didn’t want anything to take my attention away from him and his recovery. He kept telling me that his recovery came first, before me and before this pregnancy. I knew he wasn’t recovering. I knew he was deep into his addiction and used recovery as an excuse to get out and feed his addiction.

That night as we were about to lie down, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and told me he was going to kill himself. He didn’t feel loved and wanted to end his life. He had a loaded gun and set it in the closet. He told me he didn’t want to live but that he wouldn’t go without me. I worried he would shoot me and then shoot himself. How did it get to this point? What was I going to do? I prayed. I asked Heavenly Father to bless me to say the words that he needed to hear to calm down. The words flowed from my mouth and slowly he softened the expression in his face and came and lied down. I talked to him for a long time as he sobbed and cried. I laid my body across his so that if I fell asleep I would feel if he got up. My heart always felt compassion toward him and what he was going through. I wanted so badly to help him. I wanted to take his pain away somehow. Tonight was different though. I was beyond scared. I just wanted to get away from him. I wanted to get my children away from him. It was a long night. I never slept. I prayed all night and knew that if I could make it to the morning, I would leave. I would never be in a dangerous situation like this again with him.

The morning came and I quietly got up, gathered a few things and left with my children. We drove back to Arizona to live with my parents. I called and told him we would not be returning. He needed to finish his treatment without us. He needed to get things under control before we ever lived with him again. He eventually stopped calling. He said it was too hard to listen to me tell him about what I was going through with my pregnancy.

This pregnancy was hard, harder than the first two. Throwing up all day while trying to take care of my children without the help of my husband. I dealt with feelings of abandonment while trying to explain to my crying children where their daddy was. It was the hardest with my oldest daughter who thought it was her fault her daddy wasn't around anymore. She asked me one night if she played with Star Wars toys instead of princesses if it would make her daddy come home. It was so hard to explain this to her. She was so little. Some nights I would just lay in her bed with her and we would just cry together. I had no words, I just shared the same feelings.

So where are the flecks of gold in this experience? Here is where they begin or at least where I started to see them:

Lilee, my 5 year old daughter said to me as I was driving one day, “Momma look at the clouds. See the fluffy one with the sun shining through? That means Jesus is with us.” On another particularly hard day for me she said, “Did you know that Heavenly Father loves you momma?” There are so many examples of the comfort she gave me in the words she said but my favorite was when we went to the temple visitors center and listened to the words of the Savior as we looked at the Christos. I noticed how intently she listened to the words that were being played over the speakers in that beautiful room. She didn’t say much about it that day but she came into my room in the middle of the night and told me she had had a dream, that it was not a normal dream. In the words of a child trying to express a spiritual experience, it was “something like in church.” She told me that she had heard a voice. The voice sounded like the Savior’s voice she had heard in the temple. She said, “He told me to take care of my sisters.” Tears filled my eyes as I could see that she truly understood what that meant.

On multiple occasions during this time, I would walk into my mother’s room, in the middle of the day, in the mornings, and at night. There I would find her kneeling beside her bed praying. I knew she was praying for me, praying for my children. Every time I saw this, it would bring me comfort. It would help me to remember that I was not alone. Even now as I think about it, it brings me comfort. We laughed that I must have had a prayer radar that drew me to her room every time she prayed. I think I truly did. This “prayer radar” was such a blessing. It reminded me to pray and reminded me how much my mother loved me. It gave me faith. A mother’s prayer is a powerful thing and when a child sees their mother kneeling in prayer, it is the most powerful thing.

I got through the sickness of my pregnancy and it came time to deliver the baby. My father drove me to the hospital in the middle of the night and he and my mother stayed with me the whole time. My father placed his hands on my head and gave me a beautiful blessing in the hospital. In a moment I had dreaded for so long because I never wanted to deliver my baby alone, all I felt was peace. I would look over at them as the contractions came sitting on the small couch provided for families next to my bed and again, peace filled my heart. They never left my side. I knew that with their help and the help of the Lord I would be able to deliver and take care of this baby and even though I did not have a husband to help, I did have the Savior by my side. She came, almost 9 lbs. She was a healthy, chubby, beautiful baby girl. We all fell in love with her at first sight.

I came home from the hospital to a beautiful room. My mom had made everything so beautiful and comfortable. I will never forget walking into that room. It was filled with all of the things I would need to take care of my new baby. That room was heaven. It was sacred to me. I felt so well taken care of and so loved. Every time my mom would hear my sweet Emmee cry she would come in and help me get her latched on and nursing. She'd change diapers and hold her so I could sleep. She was always there to help.

As Emmee got a little older, I moved her to another room so she would sleep better. There were many times she would wake up crying in the night. I would roll out of bed to go and rock her back to sleep and as I would round the corner, I would hear my father’s deep voice singing, “I Am a Child of God.” I would hear him patting her and would peak in through the crack in the door and see him rocking her. I knew he enjoyed every minute of it. Emmee never felt a void. She always had a father figure in her life, he loved her with all his heart and she knew it.

She continued to grow. The divorce was final and my children's biological father disappeared. Life became easier and although at times it was still hard, the little girls seemed to not care as much. They were having too much fun going and getting ice cream with their grandparents and enjoying life together as sisters. Swimming, trips to the mountains, walks on the golf course, and feeling so loved.

I started to date and thought it was going to be impossible to find someone I could trust, someone I could let be a father to my children who had been through so much. It took me 4 years and then when I had all but lost hope, there he was at a birthday party we had both gone to. He got my number and asked me on a date. He showed up at my door to pick me up with a bouquet of blow pops for the girls. I didn’t let very many men I dated meet my girls but something told me this was okay, so I let him give the suckers to them. They were so excited. I didn’t know it was him yet, it took me some time to let go of my fears and trust. He was patient, he was kind, respectful, and he let me take my time. We were married and I have to admit I kept waiting for everything to implode, for something to happen. It never did. No marriage is perfect, but he was capable. He took care of me. I can still remember the feeling of having him take care of me instead of feeling like I needed to take care of someone else all the time. It was a feeling that I had never known in marriage. I felt safe and so did my children. When we got home from our honeymoon, the girls called him daddy. I didn’t tell them to, they just did it. And from that time forward, he has been their daddy, a true daddy. One who takes care of them, plays with them, holds them when they cry, teaches them important truths, and most importantly treats them like they were always his… because they were.

When I was in the depths of despair and asked Heavenly Father to spare me having to go through my pregnancy, I didn’t know that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t know Emmee would have a father and a grandfather that would take on that role of father so beautifully. I didn’t realize the lessons I would learn from my faithful mother or the love my beautiful children would bring into my life. I absolutely didn’t know of the strength that was inside me and of the faith I had within me. I found that and much more through this experience. It shaped me into a stronger woman, made my spirit more beautiful and deepened my gratitude for my Heavenly Father and Savior. All of those things combined are worth more than gold to me. They are priceless and though I wouldn’t want to go through any of it again, I am so incredibly grateful for every moment of it.

I like to think of my life like a pendulum that swings. It swung so far into despair, pain, sadness, and grief. When it started to swing back it had to swing the same distance in the other direction. There have been so many moments of joy, happiness, gratitude, love, peace, and just pure sunshine and it all came from the hardest experience in my life.

There were many times I asked, “Why? Why do I have to go through this when I have tried so hard to be good in my life? Why would Heavenly Father put me through such a traumatic experience?” One night as I pondered this question, the words to this poem came to me:

Ride the Bike

There it was, the one that I had long looked for,
The perfect gift to give my child so she could soar,
A bike, something that she would have to learn,
I knew she could do it, I did, now it was her turn.

I bought the beautiful bike and with love I gave it to her,
The joy she would have as soon as she would learn,
The feeling of the wind blowing through her hair,
Oh the magic scenery she would see in the open air.

But first I’d teach her there were things she’d need to know,
There were some good rules to follow before she could go,
Safety first, steer the right direction, and fresh courage take,
It’s important to know when to pedal and when it’s time to brake.

She got on and as all children do wobbled a little at first,
I steadied her and gave a push, then waited for the worst,
As a father I wanted nothing more to see my child succeed,
Knowing that hard lessons learned come with success it seems.

The bike went down the road toting a child with a tight grip,
So tight in fact, in a zigzag motion the front tire slipped,
Down she went, and a little knee scrapped the ground,
She looked at me, at her knee then let out a shrill sound.

I ran to her side with the anticipated Band-Aid in hand,
I reached down and gently grabbed her arm to help her stand.
Confused and hurt from the blow, she asked “Why’d you let me fall?”
“Daddy, I looked back and you weren’t holding on at all!”

“I had to let you fall my child,” I said. “I knew you would,
For you see it was the only way to let you see you could,
Rise above the challenge and you’ll see, your hurts will mend,
You can do it, now get back on the bike and try, try again.”

She got back on and with determination upon her face,
Began now to relax her grip and pedal at a steady pace.
There were a few more falls that only helped her more,
Until finally she let go of her fears and doubts, and began to soar.

The joy she felt as the wind blew through her hair,
Oh the magic scenery she saw in the open air,
A feeling of great accomplishment and peace filled her heart,
Because she endured the challenge well from the start.

And from the experience, with its many ups, downs, and turns,
Trusting in her Father was the best way to carry on she learned.
That by letting go of the doubts and fears that left her standing still,
Thrusted her forward, and her sails with mighty winds were filled.

By Amanda Hodges