Third Quarter Covid 19

It's the 9th month of Covid 19. Seems like it's time to make a few lists!

World Events

1. JOE BIDEN defeated Trump. A few times, actually. There have been a few recounts in a few states that just keep yielding more votes for Biden. Can't wait for Trump to leave in 50 days. 
2. I wore every bracelet I own for good energy for Biden on election day. We spent election night at soccer practice, watching the returns for Trump looking like he would do it again. We left soccer and drove home in silence, the weight of the idea of 4 more years under the inanity nearly overwhelming me. We got home and the TV returns were more promising. I watched the states all turn towards Biden as the week went on - Arizona, Georgia, and Pennsylvania. The red mirage faded! Then Saturday morning that the Pennsylvania lead got statistically unbeatable - they called it for Biden as we watched MSNBC. It was a wonderful, joyous moment! 
   
   
   
   
   
   
3. The US elected a woman for Vice President.
4. We also continue to have no strategy for the Covid pandemic, no assistance from the government to feed or help house those who have lost their income because of Covid, nor a plan to keep us all safe until the vaccines come later this month.
5. There are 2 vaccines that will arrive this month.

Halloween and Thanksgiving recap

1. Other than decorating for Halloween, there wasn't any celebration of it this year.
2. We spent the late afternoon/early evening at soccer practice (we were preparing to go to Las Vegas for a tournament that eventually got cancelled). We didn't have any trick or treaters, which was sad. We spent the evening watching TV.
3. The day after Halloween we put up our trees. They got decorated a week later. The decor was a bit schizophrenic until after Thanksgiving when all the decorations changed from Halloween/Harvest/Christmas to all Christmas.
4. I've decorated 4 trees. I keep buying mini ones at Target, along with ornaments that make me feel joyous. There's a tiny one I put upstairs with mom's fairy decorations and some cute stuffed animal ones I got at Target.
   
   
   
5. Thanksgiving was quiet. Vonnay visited for a few minutes on Wednesday. I made rolls and 3 pies (lemon meringue, pecan, and pumpkin) on Thanksgiving Eve
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
6. I messaged with a few friends in the morning. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself and then our wonderful next door neighbors brought over a little pumpkin cake and a center piece. Their generosity pulled me out of my gloom and I had a great day!
7. Shane and I ran a 5k around the neighborhood/Lodestone Park
8. We ate around 4:30. Thomas claimed the rolls were like candy. We all tried the yams. I tried the fruit salad. Boys refused to eat the beans. I enjoyed Vonnay's cranberry relish.
9. We ate pie around 8, still so stuffed we could hardly stand it
10. 
11. Reminisced a bit about last year, when we ate together at the buffet in Las Vegas. That was a treasured memory, funny as that sounds. I was glad to not do the drive, but I wanted to travel again this year, especially with how weird everything is with my family

Therapy updates (these are mostly vague intentionally)

1. Had some eye opening appointments, one about bullies in my life. 
2. I'm trying to find the grey spaces in my life. Some of the characters in the black are ones that I want to move to the grey space, where I can take what they do less personally and just wish them well
3. I did the thing I never thought I would. It was as ugly as I worried it would be. Still figuring out what to do in the aftermath, but it's a relief in almost all the ways, but weighs on me/fucks with my head a lot still.
4. Had the appointment about the salt, and the cliff that can't hurt me with its shadow. Salt has savor and in small doses makes life sweeter
5. I'm trying to remember to walk in line with my people in the rich dark vibrant tropical landscape with the volcano in the distance

Books I've been reading/listening to

1. Magic Lessons - Alice Hoffman - Loved it so much
2. 19th Wife - was ok. It was fun to read with Cindy and Rebecca
3. Harry Potter #1
4. Disloyal
5. Melania and Me
6. Caste
7. Cassandra Speaks

Things we've done in pandemic quarter 3

1. 2 Trips to Desolation trail to snow hike with all of us and the dog. I love these little hikes, even though there hasn't been much snow.
   
2. Dinner with Eugenia and Fred
3. Soccer practices at Real Academy
4. State cup tournament in North Salt Lake - Ben had some great goals
5. Library opened for in-person visits
6. Fabric store visits were mostly for Halloween fabric. I finished the mini quilts for Janna, Cindy, Rebecca, and Camie. I got most of the Halloween panel quilt put together. A few masks. Want to make some tree skirts for the mini trees. 
7. Thomas grew a beard for No Shave November, and finished his Math 1050 class!
   
   
   
8. Ben started making chicken during his almost-all-of-November online school experience.
9. I got my laptop and 2nd screen for WFH. So much more efficient! 
   
10. Spent a day in the office - so strange to be there. I left my little acorn tops from 2019 for the end of the pandemic/return to work.
    
11. Got to order Skirt Sports stuff again! 
12. Bucket got her cyst cut off. She looks so much better!

Places we've been eating

1. Zao (one will open soon in Jordan Landing)
2. Noodles and Company
   
3. Rumbi (on Thursday nights with Ben driving)
4. JCWs in Herriman - I'm a sucker for their turkey avocado
5. Costa Vida - the delicious chili verde returned in October/November
6. Buffalo Wild Wings a few times
7. Jersey Mikes

Workout stuff

1. Need to do more Yoga
2. Speed/intervals on Sundays on the big treadmills are my favorite, followed by a cooldown 10 minute run and some strength by the mirrors
   
3. 
   Ran a few times on Grizzly Way in the leaves.
4. Remembered how much I love watching Willow get a bite of snow when it's snowy and we are running together
5. Am really enjoying the Peloton app. it's been my companion since almost day 1 of the pandemic

Corona Virus Lists: A Post for the Ages - March - May 2020

Things we ate that I cooked:

1. Breakfast for dinner
2. Pork fajitas (cookie sheet baked)
3. Hamburgers
4. Hawaiian chicken
5. Chorizo burritos (with ground beef)
6. Chicken with little potatoes
7. BBQ chicken with fried rice
8. Hershey's chocolate chip cookies
9. Banana bread
10. Brownies

Frequent Takout items

1. Costa Vida (was sad when the chili verde went away - I want my chili verde nachos back)
2. Buffalo Wild Wings (Doordash)
3. Zao 
4. Village Baker
5. Zupas
6. Apollo Burger
7. Papa Murphy's
8. Chick-Fil-A

Books I read

1. Untamed
2. Welcoming the Unwelcome
3. Where the Crawdad's Sing
4. Circe
5. Spinning Silver
6. Getting Past your Past
7. The Path of Liberation (on going)

Zoom Meeting sources

1. Book club meeting with some of my dearest friends
2. Team meetings
3. Buddhist Meditation group meetings
4. Visit with a sister and a few nieces

What we watched

1. Finished Lost for 3rd time (2nd with Ben)
2. Bear Grylls 
3. Shark Tank 
4. Last Dance documentary
5. SGN with Jon Krasinksky
6. CNN/Morning Andrew Cuomo press conferences
7. 50 First Dates
8. Modern Family finale
9. Finished This is Us
10. Some Kind of Wonderful
11. When Harry Met Sally
12. Tiger King (only 1 episode)

Beverages we enjoyed

1. So. Much. Coffee
2. Hot and then iced vanilla latte with amaretto from High Point Coffee (on my way to the fabric store!)
3. Mike's Margaritas
4. Lime Pilsner
5. Birthday Suit 
6. Rogue - Just a Pinch

Types of masks I made

1. 1/2 inch elastic cut down to 1/4 with disastrous results with 3 pleats (geisha cat, Annie Oakley, mom's stash)
2. Hair band (disastrous) 3 pleats
3. Cut open thick-hair hair ties (3 pleats, soccer balls and field fabric, Jeep fabric, Dodge fabric, plain for 1 missionary)
4. Curvy no pleat with regular hair ties (more Jeep, more Dodge, soccer balls)
5. Double folds fabric ties yellow N95 covering for Suzette

Other stuff I sewed - mostly still unfinished

1. 60 Degree diamond top (currently still being quilted)
2. finished UFOs from 3 years ago (put log cabin borders have, need to border, bind, and quilt)
3. triangle hexies
4. fairy star - need to quilt and bind

Stuff I like to wear

1. Callia blue tights
2. 2 Callia sport bras
3. Lagoon print LBS
4. Title Nine tanks
5. Kuhl shorts
6. Various skirt sports skirts - almost every day, different skirt. 
7. Vacay Jaguar
8. Tree of Life tee
9. Blue Title Nine hoodie
10. running shoes for walking Willow
11. My moon phases Alex and Ani bracelet every day

Places I went every week at some point

1. Harmons
2. Sam's
3. Pine Needles fabric store
4. District for takeout
5. Lowes
6. Jordan Landing for Takeout
7. High Point Coffee
8. Costco several times
9. Rarely Walmart
10. Therapy/EMDR (online)

Places I ran

1. Trail
2. Around sunken park
3. Daybreak Lake
4. to Discount Tire

Types of workouts

1. Peloton Yoga
2. Peloton Outdoor runs
3. Walk Willow
4. Run with Audio
5. Sunday Hills walks

What I want to remember

1. Working at the kitchen table
2. Looking so forward every night to dinner that we made a calendar of dinners for 2 week periods, including takeout
3. So much cooking and actually enjoying it
4. Everyone being home all the time.
5. Forgetting a mask and covering my face with a hoodie or my arm
6. Zoom meetings in my front room and at the desk downstairs
7. Yoga in the front room
8. The earthquake/aftershocks
9. Getting toilet paper from an acquaintance who worked at Costco and feeling grateful
10. Getting excited over finding my favorite butter, any flour, and frozen avocado
11. Mid morning getting "ready" for the day - running skirt, tank top, hoodie, sports bra - and wavy hair from braid/humidity
12. Mid morning walks with Shane and Willow
13. Evening trips to park to let Willow chase the frisbee
14. The hawks (or are they falcons?) courting at the park
15. Ben working out at park
16. Thomas doing online school - finishing his second semester at SLCC
17. Thomas's friends coming home and a few going back out to stateside missions
18. Thomas doing maintenance at his work, then missing a month, then going back a few days before they opened again
19. Ben doing online school from his bed in the late morning, coming down to scan a math page, then eating waffles
20. Dog self wash 
21. late bedtimes
22. Marco polos with Camie
23. Marco polos with Rebecca, Cindy, Janna
24. Sewing in the evenings, making masks and finishing projects before Ben went downstairs
25. New birth control
26. Missing the library
27. Getting our side fence
28. rebuilding the back deck, lots of solar lights
29. watching all the neighborhood trees every day go from bare branches to flowers and leaves
30. Finding a random allium in my bleeding heart
31. Blueberry yogurt with blueberries and granola
32. Facetime with the Bells a few Saturday evenings
33. A lot of online shopping

41, A year in review, of sorts

Subtitle and spoiler alert: there is nothing to figure out.

A year ago *today!*, I decided I’d had enough of living how I’d lived for the past year and I determined that I would Turn Over A New Leaf. I’d Power Through Anxiety. I would Stop Living In Fear. I had Figured It Out.

As if one can just decide that. (Well, they can.) As a high-achieving sort of person, I could will myself through any struggle. Push through, determination, rah rah rah!, and all of that. It was cute, and a good goal. It was me, setting out to run a figurative marathon that I was not trained for, at a full sprint, wearing spikey shoes and cotton clothes and needing to go to the bathroom.

Cute, as I said.

So the thing with life and milestones and stuff that we want/need to overcome is that we think we can do this. Our sheer willpower will help power us through the things we don’t like, the ways that we suffer. But, a year ago, I still had so many things going against me. Resistance to reality being one of them, thus the cotton clothes I was wearing. I thought that just by not wanting something to be the way it was, it could somehow be magically better. My spikey shoes were my constant self-battering, my internal dialogue of criticism and negative though patterns and feeling unsafe with myself, because, well, I was unsafe with myself. I set out in spikey shoes because were a symbol source of pride and of immense pain. There was no safety or compassion or understanding or forgiveness for that person. She evoked my ire simply by failing to drive to work one day. And I was going to fix it all as soon as possible, so I set out in a sprint, because I had to Win. Needing to go to the bathroom symbolizes just how unprepared I was to go, carrying uncomfortable truths with me that I couldn’t let go even though they begged to be released from me.

“But Becky, here you are again, saying you know so much more than before, and NOW you’re going to be so much better?!” I hear you, dear reader, and see the irony.

But the thing is, there isn’t a race or anything to figure out. That’s the huge irony and wonderfulness of it all. It’s just my life. It’s changed and I often hate the changes that have happened more than anything, but I also love them too. “Who knows, what is good and what is bad?” It’s all bad and good. It brings us to our now, and whatever the reality of that now is.

I’d like to acknowledge some of the things/people/books/whatever that has brought me to my current now.

Shane, who read a marriage book with me and then went on to find a source of peace for us that is as surprising as it is effective. He found us a common language, a gift that can never stop blessing us. Who has been patient with me even when I’m kinda crazy in an effort to make all of this work. I told him things this year that I’ve never told anyone.

Podcasts (and the personalities in the podcasts) 

•  Secular Buddhism
• 10% Happier
•  Happier with Gretchen Rubin
• Waking Up with Sam Harris

Books

• The Places that Scare You – Pema Chodron
• 10% Happier – Dan Harris
• When Things Fall Apart – Pema Chodron
• Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) handbook/guide – Jon Kabat-Zinn
• Wild – Cheryl Strayed

Playing the piano, which is finally something I can say that I do. I love it dearly. I love when my left wrist aches from playing chords. I love when I can learn a single song in a night. I love that I can’t think when I play the piano and so it is a source of pure delight and enjoyment.

Meditation: podcasts, learning about emotions, learning how to meditate from Pema Chrodron’s audiobook How to Meditate and finding out what meditation can and cannot do for a person. Knowing that it won’t solve all of my problems and not asking it to. Knowing that it gives me space to react. Feeling it bleed into parts of my life that need calm. Feeling so damn grateful for this bit of craziness. When I compare the feeling in my body and soul today to where it was 2 years ago today – I don’t know how that person made it through a day, she was so wound up and hard on herself.

My time spent in Young Women, and now being released. It’s strange, but since I’ve been released I have a sense that things are easier, that a force that has been unrelentingly pushing against me has left. It’s surprising and I don’t really know what it means, but that’s ok. I loved the girls and women I served with.

Friends and family: watching my kids get older and wiser, texting and hiking and running and everything with Amy, seeing and texting and playing the piano and all the things I do with Melanie, my piano teacher Nicole, my high school friends and our long-running group text, God for letting me tell Him I was angry and for helping me find answers in places that are strange but are a blessing, for letting me see the path ahead sometimes.

And now I get to be 42. But I’ll admit, 41 wasn’t too bad.

Right now gratitude - day 4

Hello again, dear blogosphere. I haven't blogged 4 days in a row in...well, a long time. I'm really enjoying writing these posts because I don't feel any pressure to make them anything they aren't. Being grateful sometimes seems like it has to be a grandiose gesture. I like making it simple.

I keep talking about Gretchen Rubin and her Happier podcast because it has so many great tips and tricks to know yourself better. I listen to them on my way to work and since I'm late to the party (her podcast started in April 2015), I have a lot of episodes at my disposal. I think it's possible to listen to 2 or 3 just during my driving time. Which sometimes can dilute the power of the episodes - I hear a great idea, and then move to the next episode and hear another great idea and I forget about the first. But nevertheless, I love her advice and humor and content every time I listen.

One of my favorite ideas came in the August 26, 2015 episode (go ahead and listen - I'll be here when you get back.) But before I talk about the episode, a story. When my mom invited me and my sisters to go to Italy, it was a life decision that wasn't easily made. It was really, really hard for me to chose to go there. The whole idea of leaving for 10 days felt so overwhelming and foreign to me. It was a choice that I almost didn't make because of the sheer anxiety of it all. It felt like another person's life to chose to go to Italy. I felt guilty about leaving my family. I felt guilty about spending the money on myself. I was this close to not going. But I got brave and went, and had an amazing experience. It wasn't easy all of the time to be in Italy - remember my Mary story? I was an anxious mess on some of the days I was there. And I used to feel that since I was so anxious while I was there, it meant that I had failed.

During the episode, Rubin talks about choosing the bigger life. She says that when you are conflicted about making a decision, choose the thing that opens up your world and brings you a bigger life. I think about my choice to go to Italy, and for me, it was choosing the bigger life. I feel like since I've turned 40, I've taken many more opportunities to live the bigger life. When I take a day and go on a hike with my sister, I'm choosing the bigger life. When I ask my husband on a date and tell him a few things that I've never told anyone about myself, and  I squirm in every way possible because I'm uncomfortable about those things being out in the world and therefore out of my control, I'm choosing the bigger life. When I see an interesting seminar on using yoga for anxiety the day before the seminar and I sign up (like I did yesterday!), I'm choosing the bigger life. It's not easy. Sometimes it's uncomfortable.

And I know that there are ways that I'm still staying safe in my little life because I just haven't expanded enough to be able to incorporate everything. But I'm trying and pushing my boundaries and working on being authentic to myself more and more, and I'm grateful for the growth that it brings me. I'm trying to see these attempts at authenticity as attempts, not successes or failures. And I look back at my Italy experience and realize that part of what made it so hard was that I was choosing the bigger life. I'll always be glad I did.

How do you choose the bigger life? Is this a concept that resonates with you?


And, since I've posted a link to the Mary post, I'm going to post this photo. I wrote to San Petronio a few months after I got back and they were kind enough to send me a photo of the Mary statue. Isn't she so beautiful?

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: book review and thoughts about death

Two summers ago, I went to my friend Sheila's funeral and burial. Since Sheila had been cremated, there was no casket. Instead, most of her ashes were concealed in an urn that was placed inside the burial vault while the mourners looked on.

It was sort of shocking to me to watch her urn being put in the ground in front of me. In my experience, the burial of the remains was always performed behind the scenes, after the dedicatory prayer, and out of the sight of loved ones. I thought a lot about this event, and the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated it. Sheila's young daughters, who would certainly come to visit in the future, would know exactly what was underneath the beautiful headstone that marked Sheila's remains. They weren't preserved to look "natural" or "lifelike." They were simply non-scary, non-threatening ashes, remains of a lovely life cut too short. They would never wonder if she still looked the same as when the casket lid was shut (as I often do when I visit my dad's grave site.)

The shock became sort of comforting as I thought about it. The obviousness of the events took wonder about a dead body below the ground out of the equation. No dead body preserved with chemicals in a cement vault in a metallic casket, all for the mourner's comfort and the cemetery's landscaping convenience, paid for at a premium price, with the feeling that anything less than the best makes you cheap. (Sidenote: I was called "cheap" in conversation just this week about this topic. The exact words were "you are too cheap to be embalmed." Um, okay. I guess I am. Because yes, I not only don't like the thought of my dead body being filled with chemicals, I also don't like my loved ones paying a large sum for it. I'll own that, but not in the way it was said.)

Now, I'm not really 100% sold on cremation. But I also don't oppose it in quite the way I did when I was younger. The culture I live in seems to believe in the traditional funeral establishment. But I don't count myself as one of the believers. Sheila's funeral was simply another step in my own (morbid) journey of how I've come to think about my own death (a long, long time in the future, thankyouverymuch.) I decided years ago to not be embalmed. I've also decided to have a green burial (more on this later in the post.) I don't judge others for their desires for their own burial, but those are my current plans for that future event.

Which brings me to the book I've been reading: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes & other lessons from the Crematory, by Caitlin Doughty.  It is possibly one of the best autobiographical memoirs I have ever read. Told in first person, Caitlin tells of how she became obsessed and morbidly afraid of death as a child, which led to her first job in a funeral home, pushing the big red button on the crematorium for people from all walks of life.  She also has a blog and a website, www.orderofthegooddeath.com

I cannot say enough good things about this book. Caitlin talks very openly about our society's lack of death rituals, especially as most people become increasingly less involved in religion. Most of us are afraid of dead bodies, convinced that they will give us diseases, that we don't have any rights to the deceased's body after death, that we cannot transport them on our own or keep them longer than a few moments after they have passed from life to death. Our society likes to have death be behind closed doors. We are are secluded from death because it reminds us that we will die, and we don't like to be reminded.

I loved this book. I loved how she tackled the societal beliefs and norms that we have about death. Reading about the lack of regard many people have for their dead made me sad that I didn't participate in more of my own father's burial. I wish I hadn't let fear keep me from helping to dress him. I know I am a daughter, and that it would be weird to dress my father. But I wish I had. Even just his outer clothing. What I dislike about my lack of involvement is that it came from fear. Fear of my dad's scary dead body. I know that my sister participated in the dressing of one of her close relatives, and that she felt a great amount of peace from it. I regret not doing something similar for my dad. I won't let that fear impede me in the future.

If I thought I had strong beliefs about what I wanted to happen to my own body after death before reading it, they are even stronger now. Even though it sounds weird and new-agey, I think a home funeral would be very special to have or attend for a loved one. When I die, I don't want my family to be afraid of my body. (Nor do want them to keep it in the back bedroom as it waits for resurrection.) I want some sort of middle ground type of event to mark my passing. This passage perfectly describes my feelings for my body:

The way to break the cycle and avoid embalming, the casket, the heavy vault, is something called green, or natural, burial. It is only available in certain cemeteries, but its popularity is growing as society continues to demand it....The body goes straight into the ground, in a simple biodegradable shroud, with a rock to mark the location. It zips merrily through decomposition, shooting its atoms back into the universe to create new life. Not only is natural burial by far the most ecologically sound way to perish, it doubles down on the fear of fragmentation and loss of control. Making the choice to be naturally buried says "Not only am I aware that I'm a helpless, fragmented mass of organic matter, I celebrate it. Vive la decay!"

And another good sentence or two:

I understood I had been given my atoms, the ones that made up my heart and toenails and kidneys and brain, on a kind of universal loan program. The time would come when I would have to give the atoms back, and I didn't want to attempt to hold on to them through the chemical preservation of my future corpse.

I know, I know. It's morbid. But it's inevitable, and I don't want to pretend my own death (or the death of my loved ones, as much as I don't want it) won't happen (in a really, really long time.) I don't want to pretend I will always be young. I want to embrace the process of life, that leads, you know, to aging and eventual decomposition. It will happen whether I fear it or not. It feels brave. It feels empowered.

Check out Caitlyn's website. Read her book. It's disturbing, but I think we need to be a little disturbed. I think we need reminders of our mortality. We need to make decisions about our own deaths.

Gratitude, day 1

I have lived, very happily I might add, under the radar of big callings at church for 15 years. Sure, I've been a librarian, spent one year in primary, taught gospel doctrine (probably my favorite calling ever; it is so fun to get into nerdy gospel discussions!), and a few others. But I had never been in anything resembling a presidency. I had friends in high places, it seems.

But all of that came to a halt a few months ago. My ward split, and a complete stranger put my name in as secretary for the Young Women group. Gulp. I panicked hard when I was asked; how would I manage meetings, how would I manage the weekly activities, what would my family do while I was away, how would my husband react? I've lived for so long with a sure-fire, presidency-avoiding reason all my married life: my husband isn't a member, so how could I be expected to do all of that?

I found out how. After a long call with the complete stranger who was the YW president, I decided to give it a try. In the back of my mind, there were so many doubts about my own abilities. What would I know about young girls? How am I supposed to be an example to these girls, when I stopped going to my own young women class at 15, never setting foot in my laurel's class? I went so far off of the path for so many years, would I be a good person to influence the daughters of so many more (righteous, LDS, firm in the gospel, knowledgeable, etc..) people in my ward?

I feel like I am the back-door leader. The one who watches these amazing girls and their fierce personalities, and wonders which of them will stray. I wonder what I can say to them that no leader said to me, back when I still listened. How can I teach them that if or when they stray, they can come back? That they don't have to turn their hearts against God because of the things they have done? That He still loves them and doesn't want them to throw away their relationship with Him because of the paths they took, or the sins they committed, or the alcohol they drank. That they don't have to be angry with him that they don't fit the mold that people want them to fill; that they have a mold that He has given them and they can let Him help them to make it fit.

It sounds like the wrong approach. But it feels right, for me. I can't pretend to be anything other than me. I don't want to. I want them to know that sometimes, people have to step off the path to know what they really believe. I had to live my life for a few years without the Spirit to know that I wanted it. I'm not encouraging them to stray. I just think it's a possibility. I want every one of those girls in my ward to know that I would love them without judgement, no matter what or how or where their lives take them. They would know that if they got into trouble and needed a ride home, I would come and get them. That they could run into me in Target in 10 years and know I would be happy to see them, regardless of what path they were on. (Maybe this is the hope of every leader. What I'm really trying to say that I can imagine if my leaders had seen me at my worst, they would have just felt disappointed in me. I would have avoided them at all costs. I wouldn't want any of these girls to feel or do that.)

A few nights ago, I gave four of them a ride home. It was completely normal, something I do for my sons and his friends all the time. But it felt so...special. I could give these amazing, giggly, girls a ride. I enjoyed it so much. It's funny to see how different teenage girls are from teenage boys.

The funny thing is that I knew this calling was coming for a while. I expected to get something in Young Women when I got my gospel doctrine calling. It's working out (I really hope I'm not jinxing myself by saying that!) It's true I am the old lady of the group (everyone else is in their late twenties, except for the president who is 30. Gah.) But I can be the old lady, I guess. 
 
The amazing part in all of this, one of the parts that I'm most grateful for, has been the feeling of...insulation I've had. I can't describe it better than that. I'm able to go to the meetings and activities and feel just fine with what I'm able to do, on all fronts. If I go, I can go and not feel guilty. If I can't go, I can not go and not feel guilty. It's such a great feeling, and I'm scared to even admit I have it in case it goes away. But it lets me do what I need to do and not feel conflicted. I didn't know that feeling could exist; I never would have known to ask for it, nor would I have expected to feel it. It's a much-needed reminder that I'm getting help to be able to do what I need to do.

Gratitude #2: Mary.

One of my favorite categories of blog posts is the one I call "pagan at heart." For some reason, even though the are polar opposites, I lump my pagan proclivities in with my second-choice of religions: Catholicism (I mean no disrespect for the Catholic church in saying this; I just know that if certain parts of my testimony that keep me from changing religions ever changed, and if I were looking for another religion to raise my children in, it would be there.) So part of my excitement of going to Italy was knowing I would be spending time in centuries-old churches, wandering them, seeing their altars and saints and sculptures and basins full of holy water.

I read a book a few years ago called Expecting Adam. In the course of this book, the author has some very singular, sacred experiences while pregnant with her second child, who has Down's Syndrome. There is a moment in that book where she feels actual comfort from an angel that she can't see. In that moment, her heart cries out, wanting that comfort to come from a female angel. She immediately felt a change in the persona of the angel comforting her, and she knew it was a woman. Kind of strange in our world that doubts anglic visits, but in the context of this book, I have always sort of connected with the author in this desire of her heart.

Even being a non-Catholic, I see the draw of Mary. A female presence, a mother, a woman who can intercede on our behalf to the more patriarchal line of the Father and Son. There is a softness in Mary that speaks to my soul. And while I was in Italy, I saw depiction after depiction of Mary. Michelangelo's Pieta in St. Peter's Basilica is breath-taking, and seeing it was an experience I will always treasure. Additionally, I saw many representations of her in all her stages of life.

One of our final stops was in Bologna. I was having a rough day: the immense lack of sleep from jet lag had caught up with me; I  had stayed up late the night before talking with Amy and listening to an amazing thunder and lightening storm; and I had been late for the bus and made the whole group wait for me. We reached San Petronio's basilica in the mid-morning on a cloudy day. Bologna is a very northern Italian city; the countries to its north (Austria, Hungary, Germany) had a lot of influence in its architecture. Gone were the deep-set windows with shutters that you see in Rome. Heavy Gothic arches and windows are apparent everywhere. Further, it had been days since we had toured a church; most of the smaller towns all had churches that cost money, or we simply didn't have time to tour them. So it was a relief and a joy to tour another church, and such an interesting and historical one at that (the facade was never finished, and it fell a few years ago during an earthquake that rocked Bologna. Scaffolding covers the damage and shows a representation of what the church looked like before it was damaged). My emotional state led me to a side chapel in the church (San Petronio has 22 side chapels, 11 on each side, that each have their own art, relics, and saints) that had a beautiful statue of Mary wearing a golden halo ringed with blue stars.

I sat in front of this statue of Mary and had a Moment. She was so beautiful. Her posture showed her humility, her embodiment of the Sacred Female, her love for her son and the human family that his eternal sacrifice would redeem. I lit a candle for myself (the only one I have ever lit in a church; I so love the idea of lighting a candle, of giving light and hope to the dark world around) and wrote in my journal, tears streaming down my face. It was only 15 minutes, but they were minutes that I know will stay with me for the rest of my life.

This is part of what I wrote in my journal: "I am looking at Mary. She has a crown of stars. She is so kind and has such love. It reminds me I have a Mother in Heaven who loves me."

The next day in Venice, I found a glass pendant that had a ring of blue with stars in the center and I bought it so I could always remember that moment with Mary. I have scoured the internet looking for a photo of her, crowned with her stars, to no avail (imagine: no one has yet recorded all the art, sculptures, statues, and objects in a building that has 22 chapels. Lazy internet, lol.) I want to find a representation of her somehow. But, even with the lack of a physical picture, it's ok. I know how she looked in my memory. I know the pact that she and I made together as we watched my candle light up the darkness.

I am grateful for Mary and the hope she gave me.

The appeal of sweat: a post about hot yoga

So back in the day when I was in gymnastics, summers were spent in a hot, hot gym. The class we attended was held from 12:30 - 3:30 - basically the hottest part of the day. I think that there were large, industrial air conditioners that blew cold-ish air around. The coaches would throw open the garage doors in an attempt to cool things off, but mostly, it was just hot the whole time. I can remember sweat dripping off of me during class and going home with damp hair and sticky skin.

As miserable as it was to be hot, there is a satisfaction that comes from sweating profusely (well, as long as you are intending to sweat profusely - nothing is fun about it when you are in a fancy outfit or at work or somewhere. That's just awful!). A good hard run on a summers day. A beastly hard workout at the gym. Working in the yard. I like it at these times.

Well, today I found a whole new level of sweaty-ness. I've had Bikram Yoga - or hot yoga - on my radar for a long time. I've wanted to get to a class but where I live in suburbia isn't conducive to anything other than rec-center yoga (which is fun and rewarding but there is no close opportunities for this particular style.) So, when Thomas' iPod's sleep button stopped working on Sunday making it so I had to go to the Apple store this morning, and when my running partner told me last night that she couldn't do our scheduled 5 miler - I decided to kill two birds with one stone and hit the 9am class at Bikram Yoga Salt Lake. (Go ahead - check out the link - I'll wait.) I was so excited going in to class - I felt like a little girl going to her first ballet class.

I couldn't believe how hot the room was - I mean, I knew that the room temperature would be 105, but actually walking in to that was a little bit of a shock. They have a sign outside the room that tells you in no uncertain terms not to talk or make loud noises in order to allow others to meditate. Okay then. So what do I do? I threw my mat out to unroll it and heard it slap the floor - thwack! I felt so stupid. The instructor came in a few minutes later and started class. I was the only new student and so he used my name about 20 times to correct what I was doing. Only me. I kept wanting to crawl under my mat so he never said my name again. Seriously - doesn't he know any of the other 30 people in the room? Shesh. I'm glad I won't have to be the new guy again.

I was thoroughly pleased with the amount of sweat that came off my body. By the end, I had a hard time finding a dry enough place on my towel to wipe my face on. I kept losing grip on my foot/knee/ leg from how clammy and sweaty my palms were. By the time we got to the floor to do poses like camel and boat, my whole tank top was soaked and my hair was dripping down my back. It was extremely satisfying. I kept thinking that the room would stink horribly, but it didn't. Maybe sweat that drips off of you is less stinky, I don't know. (Or maybe I just don't have as good of a sniffer as my friend Britt.)

I felt a little self conscious during the class. I was at a loss last night as to what to wear. The pictures all showed girls wearing tiny shorts and sports bras. Well, I wasn't about to put my stomach out for everyone to ogle, so I came up with a tank top and running skirt. I was very relieved when another girl came in wearing a skirt - I wasn't completely dorky, I guess. I also felt like I had to keep up with the girl that was kitty-corner in front of me. She had this amazing body - compact height, long tight muscles, and from the first pose I could see she was talented. Which made me want to do everything she did - which of course I couldn't. My feet kept getting charlie horses during the standing poses which sucked, and my balance on my left side isn't as good so I couldn't do everything I wanted. But I was mostly satisfied with what I was able to do. I have to remind myself that yoga isn't a competition (but I will try, inevitably.)

I love the peace that I get when I do yoga. There is a quietness that comes to my mind that I don't get otherwise. When thoughts of trip to the apple store I would make right after class and whether I was going to make it on time and what route I should take and other thoughts about my regular life would creep in, I would banish them. So much of yoga is tree-hugger-y and granola-y and whatnot - it makes me want to roll my eyes. Except - the confluence of the body and the mind and the spirit coming together - I love it. I know its mystic-y and whatever but it's true. I never feel as peaceful as when I've done a yoga class - I think of it as church for your body. It banishes the barriers between these vital parts of my self (I know that should be one word - myself - but I want to emphasize that I felt like a self, an entity that goes by the name of Becky but is a combination of a body and a personality and a spirit and a mind and desires and hopes and fears all rolled into one.) Laying in shivasana - I almost wanted to cry. I didn't, but the emotion was so close under my skin - I felt like I had lost tension and internal strife and quieted my self-criticism, if only for a while. It always comes back, but the relief of letting it go is remarkable.

Now, sitting at my kitchen table writing this I feel like embodied in all that sweat that dripped onto my towel were my worries and frustrations and demands. They rolled off of me and out of me, allowing me to leave them behind in that room, only taking with me the essential parts. I feel a little glow-y. I want so much to go back (I paid $20 which means that for 10 days I can do as many classes as I want.) I'm heading back next Friday. I don't know if I'll feel the same satisfaction - I want to, but there is only a first time for everything - but I hope I can attain that feeling of peace again. Because that is more addicting than any soda or drug or any physical item I could put in to my body.

So are you a fan of yoga? Are you sick of me spouting metaphysically about the mind/body/spirit connection yet? Gah, it's cheesey, but true. I think I'm hooked.

February love number 14

Today? It's Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday to those non-french speakers who might be reading this (because you know, this blog is so hip with the international crowd. Just check my stat counter. Heh.) Anyway, this particular hedonistic day is the final live-it-up day before the season known by most of the Christian world as Lent, the 40 days of sacrifice that lead up to Easter. I think there seems a little bit too much of an "eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we die" essence to Mardi Gras for your typical Mormon, but whatever. I did allow myself to go cray-zay and have 2 cokes from the food court at work. I like living on the edge.

So, tomorrow starts Lent. About 3 years or so ago I got all excited about Lent and did two things: gave up soda and fasted for all the Sunday's during Lent. I really enjoyed it but the whole fasting for 7 Sundays thing was really hard. I enjoy fasting and all, but I just don't have the energy to commit to that. But I've thought all day about what I want to do for Lent and I've come up with the following things:

1. I'm giving up soda, again. February has weighed in as a particularly hedonistic month with a grand total of 8 cokes being consumed. Mm. But, I do feel much better when I don't drink it, and I do better at giving it up when I have a definite goal in mind. So, bye-bye to the soda. Tiny sniff.
2. Run and/or Bodyrock 5 days in the week. Or more. I did the January Bodyrock 30 day challenge. I loved every minute of it. Okay, maybe not the burpees, but really burpees do make you strong even if they really suck. If you've checked it out and noticed that they always put a sex-ay picture of the host as a teaser to the workout - yeah. That's what they do. But, the workouts themselves are really intense and the hosts are genuine in the quest to help the world of living-room worker-outers who are out there body rocking in their underwear or whatever (but not me. I wear clothes, just in case you are wondering.) I dare you to try a week of workouts. It's 12 minutes of your life, you can use this online interval timer, and you aren't out anything. You might even like it. Let me know if you do.
3. Read scriptures or a church talk every day. One thing that I didn't anticipate from getting a kindle is access to the Ensign and other church magazines for frees. Now I have really no excuse for not reading this material. I used to use the excuse that I didn't want to pay for a subscription. That went away. I've read the Ensign two whole months in a row now. Who knew? Wow, I might be a real Mormon one day after all.

I'm going to leave it at that. A little bit of sacrifice, some attempts to make myself stronger with a little spiritual enlightenment. I like it. Oh, wait, no, I love it. Because honestly, I really, really do love the idea of Lent and am excited to have these goals for the next 7 weeks.

Do you have plans for Lent?

February Love Number 7

So, I'm going to try and keep this simple today because I'm tired and I worked almost 6 hours from home and I want to take a shower and go to bed. So there. Just kidding.

Although I don't usually talk much about religion, I was trying to think of something religious that I love, you know, like a scripture story or something. Since I never read any scriptures on my own (except at church) before the age of 14, I never had a favorite scripture story. They all seemed kind of hazy and mixed up. I knew who Jesus was, obviously, but the rest? Meh. All just names.

But, ever since I read the Book of Mormon all the way through for the first time when I was 20 I've loved Ammon. Ammon was a son of Mosiah. He knew how to party and have fun with his brothers and his brother from another mother Alma at one time in his life. Then an angel told him to shape up or ship out and he did as he was told. As a result, he left the safety of home and hearth to live among the heathen Lamanites. He loved the king he served and when asked, he shared the gospel. He stuck to it. People were eventually named after him. How cool.

Ah! such faith. He loved and served before he preached. Such a good example for me. I love this group - they weren't David's, who grew up being righteous with the expectation of doing great things. Nope. They were the rebels, the ones like me, hanging out at the Nephite version of Denny's, smoking and making fun of the nicely dressed people, trying to fight against the greater good. They knew what it was like to be bad, and then chose good. I love a good (and can relate to) a good 180 degree turnabout in life.

So how about you. What scripture character appeals to you?

I am not an extreme couponer and other random facts.

*   I am a full-price girl.  I watch the coupon shoes and I know that I am officially a Bad Mormon Wife because I don't get $800 worth of groceries for $12.  And I never will.

*   But I am going to get $50 to the Gap this month thanks to triple rewards and Ben's surgery last month (love my tax return going into my son's mouth.)  At least I can buy a new running jacket with the bounty from the windfall of bills. Wahoo!

*   In a freak accident that I don't want to get into the details of, I flushed a pair of underwear down the toilet last night.  I haven't had that big of a "oh sh*t" moment in a long time (no pun intended).  I just kind of stood there for a while and tried to figure out what to do.  I kept thinking I would have to call a plumber in to help me retrieve undies from my pipes.

*   Yes, you read that right. No, I don't want to explain it.  I am an idiot.

*   Gravity is my friend.  So far, I am still plumber-free.  Hoping it stays that way.

*   I was both mortified and amused when I told Shane about the underwear incident.  He knew something was up and took it in stride.  I don't know whether to be proud or mortified by this.  As he often says, "Patience with the Allman girls."  He's learned it all right.

*   Shane grabbed me around the waist tonight on a walk and it scared the crap out of me.  I punched him and somehow my bracelet jabbed into my wrist.  I now have a giant bruise and it's all swollen exactly how it was last fall when we crashed our car.  Can I explain just how much I hate being scared?  It makes me strangely angry and violent.

*   I love NPR.  Amy turned me on to it last month and I've been tuning in ever since.  I love all the stories you hear on it.  It's fascinating.  And now Shane is listening to it, too.  It seems so nerdy but I can't stop listening.

*   Saturday is Beltane.  I always thought this happened at the summer solstice, but I have been wrong all these years.  I wish I could start a bonfire and get all pagan.  However, I think I live too close to our neighborhood church to have any fertility rites in the backyard.  So Happy Beltane to you. You should celebrate it, bonfire or not.  And, if you aren't one of the approximately 1,968 pregnant or postpartum women in my life, maybe you can be after Saturday.  I'll even offer to bring you dinner in 9 months.

 As I seem to have gone from potty talk to bedroom humor, I sincerely hope I still have bloggy friends after this post.

So what is random with you?

Happy Solstice!

One of my favorite books in the whole world is The Mists of Avalon.  It's basically the retelling of the King Arthur story but from the point of views of his mother, sister, and wife.  I love the main character Morgaine, whom history counts as a witch, but who this dear book details as a powerful priestess in the Celtic religion.

Throughout Mists, you hear of the Celtic holidays: Samhain, Beltain, the solstices.  And just in case you are wondering what all these holidays meant (because honestly, I just learned a little bit about some that I wasn't really familiar with), you can check them out here.  The definition for Yule is this:

Winter Solstice or Yule, occurs about December 21. This is the time of death and rebirth of the Sun God. The days are shortest, the Sun at its lowest point. The Full Moon after Yule is considered the most powerful of the whole year. This ritual is a light festival, with as many candles as possible on or near the altar in welcome of the Sun Child.

It is amazing to me how we have incorporated these rituals into our own Christian holidays.  We hang lights just like the pagans did, but call it in celebration of the Christ Child instead of the Sun Child.  We hold our sacred day just 4 days after this pagan holiday.  That Constantine sure knew what he was doing when he Christianized Rome.

Ever since I read this book, way back in my early 20's, I've loved the solstices. I get a little excited for today, knowing that while it's going to be cold, the sun will come back. And I get a little sad during the summer solstice, knowing despite its brightness, it carries with it the beginning slant toward darkness.


So, at the risk of being sacrilegious and in tribute to the fine religions on which our traditions are built (and, honestly,  because I'm a little bit pagan at heart, minus the idol worship), I want to wish you all a Happy Solstice.  Light a candle, enjoy the night, look forward to the return of the sun.  Or Son.  However you would like to mark it.