Saving the world

The consistent prayer in my heart lately is, "Please, dear God, allow me to get through the holidays without having to verbally/mentally battle through political, church and relationship-status debates and heated conversation."

Anyway....

On to saving the world.

I have an extended family member from my dad's side, whom, when I talk to her, I always feel like I should be doing more to save the world. You may think this is a positive, worth-while feeling. Motivation to make the world a better place. But no.... I just feel resentful of the fact that her love and respect seem to depend upon whether I'm doing what, in her mind, is needed to save the world.

Here's the thing, guys. Sure, in my dream world I'd be out there fighting the good fight. Advocating for causes in which I believe. Paving ways. Saving starving children and rescuing women who are trafficked for sex. But guys...I'm tired. And sometimes it's a tremendous accomplishment to still breath and walk and talk and treat people in a civilized manor. The fact that I'm in the office today (on my lunch break, in case you're wondering) is a HUGE accomplishment. Because I litterally typed out the text to my boss, "I'm not feeling well today..." and planned on following that up with, "I'm staying home and I'll log on later." But, I stopped. Closed out of the text message...laid in bed and restelled a little more...and then got out of bed to get dressed. THAT WAS A HUGE ACCOMPLISHMENT. Am I saving lives by going to work? No. But I feel a little more productive than I would have.

The other thing is, we don't know whose lives we're saving in our mundane day-to-day lives. For instance, this morning, when I was getting ready to go to work (but was still on the fence about actually  going all the way until I stepped out into the frigid cold to make my way to the bus stop) one of my dear cousins called me. She left me a voicemail, because my phone was on silent... But listening to her message saved me a bit. It reminded me, even on a Monday morning, when I have to wake up alone, face the week by myself...and walk out into the cold (literally and figuratively) world, I'm on someone's mind.

So, no...I'm not actively out there holding signs, creating nonprofit groups, campaigning, or arguing my point on every Buzfeed article posted to facebook. I'm getting out of bed in the morning. I'm putting one foot in front of the other. And hopefully, I'm doing what my cousin did for me today: unknowingly blessing the lives around me with the simple things.

I will not settle

I interrupt this work day to bring you this message for which I feel very strongly.

I will not settle on an eternal companion.

I'm mostly writing this in Internet land so that my brain and heart can feel at peace with my decisions.

Just because someone is a nice guy, and I have fun with him, does not mean an eternal companion he must become. If a man has food on his shirt on our third date (and we did not eat together)...and spends much of his time talking about the attractiveness scale from 1-10 and how he feels bad for nice people who are a 3 on the scale and will never find a mate because of their placement on the scale, I do not need to feel guilty about my lack of enthusiasm for a 4th date.

If a man can't connect with me, even on a basic level of friendship...if I have to convince myself that I enjoy spending time with him...and he doesn't even measure up to my experiences with my platonic friendships...I do not need to feel guilty, nor do I need to feel like I am too picky. Yes, I'm almost 31. But I am not single of my own choosing. I will not settle for something less than I deserve. And I deserve connection. I deserve respect. I deserve to feel mentally, emotionally and physically safe.

Message over. Back to work I go.

This feels familiar

This has happened to me so many times in my life...you'd think I'd get numb to the feeling. I made a dear friend in my current roommate, she's moving away, and I'm grieving the loss. I'm trying not to grieve prematurely, because she's not gone yet, but every time the subject of us moving out of our apartment is discussed, or her progress in the job hunt outside of this state is brought up...a little part of my heart hurts.

'Get over it' I tell myself. 'It's no biggie; you'll stay friends.' But it is a biggie. We will stay friends, but it will not be the same. And I'm tired of having to get over THIS scenario over and over again.

I have grown attached to so many people over the years...and then had to mourne the loss for one reason or another. Most of the time...marriage. Sometimes it's just a fork in the road and we choose different paths, which is what is happening now. She's tired of living in Seattle. I am not. Fork. Different directions.

It just gets tiring. This is why people get married. Well, one of the many reasons. Stabity, constant companionship, a forever someone. Sometimes I start to get comfortable in my make-shift family of friends and think, "Eh...what's the big deal? Who needs marriage and family?" And then my make-shift family falls apart...to progress or make their own REAL families...and I'm reminded, "Ahhhh, yes. Marriage and family is good. And I'm tired of being alone."

The upside of going through this so often is the fact that I have made so many DARN GOOD friends over the years. Buuuuuuut, I'm ready for some stability for my heart. Not to mentiom, just some physical stability. I have lived in a new place/apartment/house every year to year and a half over the past 12 years. I have not stayed in the same place longer than a year and a half! Tired. Tired of it.

My heart is ready to rest. It's ready to settle. It's ready for companionship that will last through the eternities. This is me being vulnerable. Internet world, I'M READY. Is anybody listenting?

:)

Goodnight.

Cryptic

Alanis Morissette's song "Hands Clean" perfectly depicts one of the most rewardingly torturous relationships of my life. This song literally plays out every aspect. You can find its meaning here: http://songmeanings.com/m/songs/view/51576/

Over half a decade later, I'm finally starting to come to terms. This is a pretty cryptic post. I suppose I'll include it in my memoirs one day...or turn the entire story into a novel of its own. But for now, I'm only ready for cryptic verbiage and representation through a song.

We learn from our experiences...and for that, I do not regret the relationship. But I never wish to experience it again.

You can hear/watch the song here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dH289KxkGw&sns=em

Are We Not All Beggars?

As I was walking to my bus stop a few moments ago, I came across a man sitting on the pavement in a crevice of a building, knees pulled up to his chest, arms folded over his knees, and his head buried in his arms. The sign he held was different from the average variations of "Anything helps" signs I see scattered through downtown. Etched on a small, worn, spiral notebook in blue ink, were the words, "I feel invisible.... I just need a little help." I continued walking...as Carry Underwood's "Something In the Water" streamed loudly through my headphones into my ears "Now I'm singing along to Amazing Grace...got joy in my heart, angels on my side....I am changed...now I'm stronger...there must be something in the water." As I got further and further away from him, trying to ignore the image of this invisible man in my mind, with thoughts like, "If I give every homeless person in Seattle money, I'll go broke" running through my head, the personalized nature of his plea, along with the lyrics of the song that was blasting in my ears, finally stopped me in my tracks and reminded me what the heck this life is all about. Extending mercy. Showing compassion. Living what you profess to believe. I turned around and walked up to the man. I spoke to him, and he did not look up. I tapped him, and it still took him a moment to register that someone was talking to him. We exchanged a long look of mutual respect and compassion, I gave him two dollars, and I walked away. I seriously don't know the answer to homelessness. I've done tons of research on the causes...war vets, mental illness, domestic violence, addiction, disputes between children and parents, foster children, job loss, and the list goes on. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. But ignoring it won't make it go away. And maybe...treating these people like actual people is a start to ending it. Like Elder Holland reminded me in the last LDS General Conference, are we not all beggars? It doesn't matter how they got there. Sometimes hardship is handed to me...sometimes I bring it on myself...and in both scenarios, I beg my Savior for relief, and He gives it to me. Every time. These people need some freaking relief. I'm going to do my best to give them some by SEEING them and recognizing them as my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Latest Obsession

I've had this song streaming through my ears on repeat for the last two weeks. Haven't gotten sick of it yet. Call me dramatic, but it speaks to me.


 

Never mind...

There's a fine line between good, raw, real pure heart-breaking writing...and self indulgent, woe-is-me, pitiful writing. My last post felt closer to the latter. So I removed it. Not before a couple people read it, but soon enough.

Instead of leaving it posted, I reached out to my cousin for a listening ear. The post was about loneliness. This was my cousin's response.

"That's when the Savior's life was the hardest, when He felt alone. When His Father removed His Comforter. Being and feeling alone is the worst feeling in all of humanity, even for Christ."

That quote is why I love Sundy Lynn. She has an empathetic heart. And she draws from the Spirit when comforting. This was the absolute best thing I could have heard/read while I was in the depths of loneliness. She reminded me that the Savior knows EXACTLY how I feel, and He recognizes the excruciating pain loneliness can bring at times.

So, instead of posting about my grief and sorrows, I want to post about my gratitude. Gratitude for the Savior and His Atoning sacrifice. His healing hand. His understanding heart. His forever guidance. His constant companionship. I love Him.

Gratitude for the people God puts in my path. For a roommate who calls to check up on me, listens to me cry, and then says, "Crys, I hope you're prepared to stay up until 1:00 a.m. because there's a movie we HAVE to watch right now. It will make you feel better." And it does.

For a bishop who cares. Who takes the time to know YOU. To text you on your birthday, and pull you aside in the hall to tell you he's thankful you're in the ward.

For good friends. Smart friends. To be surrounded by compassionate, intelligent people. For friends who live on the floor above mine, and I can just take my work laptop up there with me, plop on their couch and watch a movie while working, with people who care.

For a family who loves me. A mom who understands me. And when she doesn't, she works really hard to see things from my perspective. For a brother, sister and brother-in-law I feel close to. Where memories run deep for all of us. A step-family I couldn't imagine my life without. Older siblings who act excited to see me. Nieces and nephews who love me and want to be around me.

A good, solid job. Coworkers who lift me up instead of tear me down.

A cute, cozy, safe two-bedroom apartment. A beautiful city. Cheaper public transportation. A car that works.

Life is good. Hard at times. But definitely good. And I have much to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving.