Letting Go... what a relief.

I have always struggled with letting go of things that aren't good for me. Take for instance, sugar or candy. A co-worker I had a crush on, once asked me to give up sugar for a while with him and then whoever lost, took the other to dinner. I promptly gave it all up, and since we were allowed one day a week with sugar, I would go crazy, filling up on candy and sweets. Then, the stomach ache came. Now, I am not saying to abstain from sweets all the time, but too much of something can make you incredibly ill.

This blog is devoted to the art of letting go. I have written a bit about this in other blogs. I have addressed regret and all that good stuff... but I wish to take a closer look at the last let go. The last finger pulled from the holy grail. Do you remember Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? Ok, let's go to the movies and see a good illustration of what I call, "the last finger let-go."



The Scene....The Temple of the crescent moon is now crumbling in classic Raider of the Lost Ark fashion, and the dumb, nazi blonde falls down a crevasse. Indiana catches her by the hand and pleads with her to stop trying to reach the Holy Grail which has fallen onto a ledge. Remember what happens? Yep. She bites the dust. While reaching, the glove comes off and she falls into that great abyss below the temple. How mysterious. But, then... the best part is that another tremor comes through and Indiana falls, holding only to his father's hand. Thus, the same scene begins again. But, no one can resist the wisdom of Sean Connery... Indiana listens to his father "Indiana, let it go." Let go of the one thing we have spent the entire movie seeking. Let go of what you want now. Let go. What happens? Yep, indiana swings his arm up and the two of them ride off into the sunset with Sala. Classic.








Sometimes books come too close to home. For those of you who have not read the Twilight series, THIS MAY GIVE SOMETHING AWAY!!! But, let's just say, I relate very much to the main character in Stephenie Meyer's Book, Eclipse.
Bella learns she has to let go of something she loves dearly and the book literally predicted the next month of my life. I mean look at the cover... doesn't it look like it? The last thread, waiting to be cut.

Now, what about the classic bible story? Do you remember Lots' wife? What happened to her? She had her chance to escape the evil of Sodom and Gomorrah, but in a fit of not letting go, she turned to look over her shoulder during their moment to flee and BANG she is a pillar of salt? (note: as a kid, I always pictured her as becoming a salt shaker here....) The important part here, is to look at what is in your heart. Lot's wife... (let's call her Regina because she should have a name other than "Lot's wife") was regretting her decision to leave and her heart was still back in the city.

Recently in my life, I had let go of something. But I was still looking over my shoulder. Someone who meant a lot to me, was gone. I wanted it too. But, I couldn't stop looking over my shoulder. I was gazing back at the city, wishing I hadn't left.

The worse part about this is that I don't want it to appear I don't believe in having hope and faith. But, there is something else involved.... humility. When something you want (or especially something you KNOW you shouldn't have) doesn't come, you can't lose yourself to nothing. You have the choice... to be happy or to mourn forever.

This time of year is a perfect time to talk about letting go. It is the time when trees let go of their leaves and prepare for winter. But the trees change to bright reds, yellows and oranges first, becoming extroverts before thinning up for the snow.


Honestly, letting go is hard. Whatever it is, it is painful and most of the time, unfair. (That is why I write....) However, nothing beats that moment when you have let go of something you wanted. You are not guaranteed any less pain, but the pressure is released. You know you have been blessed by (yet again) more experience, and you are no longer bound to a static situation. It is over. And you are yourself again.

Because I love Lists... #1

The Things that Make Me Happy

-the smell of rotting leaves
-complete silence during a snow storm
-carmel-dipped apples
-violins
-the music of The Beatles
-the Salt Lake Temple
-the smell of plants and flowers heated by the sun in May mornings
-gutting a pumpkin in october
-the smell of burnt pumpkin November 1st
-the calm on Christmas Eve
-fresh daisies in a vase
-birds of any kind
-the wide expanse of the ocean, seeming it never ends.
-the dip your stomach feels when your plane leaves the ground and ascends into the sky
-when someone I love brushed the hair out of my eyes
-losing track of myself when I read a book
-poems that are in themselves, paintings
-the smell of trees in Yellowstone
-the music of Coldplay
-haunted houses
-cemetaries
-oak, maple, aspen and willow trees
-the first sip of Vegan Hot Chocolate from the Hatch Family Chocolate Co.
-the last bite of an ice cream cone
-cellos
-intense opera scenes with all charaters singing at once
-making pies on thanksgiving day
-ghost peeps
-Scary movies
-summer night drives
-laughing through tears
-reading to out loud to children or adults
-long coats of jackets
-children singing in cathedrals
-running saturday mornings with good music
-piano music
-listening to my own heart beat
-reading old journal entries
-watching Christmas lights in December
-being kissed slow
-the color red
-writing a poem
-singing opera
-watching slapstick humor
-the smell of squash in the oven
-warm socks from the dryer
-listening to someone else's heart beat
-when one college class studies something another class studies at the same time (but from a different perspective)
-thunder and lightning
-Ray Bradbury's writing
-my dad's grin when he is talking about books
-the smell of libraries
-my mom's voice
-pretty skirts
-falling asleep in May with the window open
-marshmallows
-my brother when he knows I need to laugh
-dark chocolate
-the painting "Fishermen at Sea" by Joseph Turner
-pastels to draw with
-the pain in my stomach when I laugh too hard
-touching the face of someone I love
-basil
-long talks that give perspective
-going to the Farmer's market
-walking through Hamilton Gardens in New Zealand
-the truth I have about Jesus Christ

ok, this is not everything that has ever made me happy but, I really felt like I needed to take a moment and write down what I could. I have learned so much lately about perspective and true joy. I am naturally a happy person but in my darkest times, these are the things that I've been blessed to experience that soothe anything that aches. Happiness is real and I feel it.

A Poem

The Gloaming


Behind the hard lip of mountains,
half-black
the sky lies in bed.

The gloaming smolders,
a warm resistance watered
by fierce blue.

We are bled,
one side
into the other,
East—
dark and slow
West—
firm in day.

Below us birds murmur
at the daily argument
of letting go.

Vibration

This week I decided to re-live some of my teenage angst and attend a rock concert. The lights were stabbingly beautiful and left me dazed. The room was filled with young kids, dressed in black tee shirts smeared with the band's name and tour dates. Everyone seemed indifferent enough to the opening bands and each other for that matter; minding their business like they were fellow passengers on a bus. However, once the band entered under flayed red lights, fan voices escalated and the room literally shook. The large room moved with the band, oscillating with the thickening beat.

After going to an event like this, my mind always turns to the wonders of vibration. No matter how many times I attend a basketball game, football game, or listen to a band perform with a sound system reaching its peak and vibrating in my chest, I always lose myself in it. When it comes down to the basic chemistry of the body, we ARE vibrations. We are made up of one specific vibration, resonating along out wrists, the hollow of our neck, center of the chest, and along our legs. Our bodies move in musical time.



For any musicians out there, I have heard songs in 3/4 time or waltz time appeal most to people because this is the closest rhythm to our heart beat. I can't speak for everyone, but I do believe I am attracted to songs in 3/4 time more often than any other time signature. But regardless, take a moment and think of what we relish in as human beings....

voices, music, communication, warnings, words, and the simple rhythm of the body.

all of these exist as nothing more than simple vibrations. Yet, they mean everything to our minds. Vibrations can carry heartbreak, joy, fear and even love in the quick pulses. I have been comforted, pained and enlightened by vibrations. The simple science of it is reduced to vibrations moving in out ears, clashing with the beat of our hearts and shaking our whole physical bodies. We are creatures of vibration.



If you ever want to understand a perfect illustration of this, read the book "Sirens of Titan" by Kurt Vonnegut. In the book, two main characters come across an alien creature with thin, diamond shaped bodies. They are called harmoniums and they live for vibrations. At one point, one of the main characters lets them crawl all over him and of course they huddle along his wrists, chest, neck and the inside of his thigh, feeding off of his vibration. What a wondeful image. Creatures living for our own music. We are walking music.

I love going to concerts and being with large groups of fueled people who illustrate sound in its most primary form. To me, my most valued sense is hearing. I would be utterly lost without it. To hear someone's voice, is to feel them with me again and I am grateful I grasp moments to join others in large groups, drowning in vibrations.

A little something about me... when I have a hard time sleeping at night, I roll on my stomach and wrap my arm around my neck with my fingers on the side of my throat. I fall asleep listening to my pulse. It is after all, the only music I carry with me always.

Something Wicked...

"I know not all that may be coming, but be it what will, I'll go to it laughing."-Stubb in Moby Dick


I have been told I have a darker side. I love Autumn, Halloween, minor chords, zombies, ghost stories, cemetaries, scary movies, creepy music and anything slightly off. I don't know if it is a flaw, but for those who know me, it is quite a shock.

Honestly, I look like one of those girls who would like hot pink. My personality is loud and creative. I laugh all the time (sometimes attracting so much attention at a party, cops have been sent to quiet the ruckus). I am enthusisatic and am too nice, having a hard time saying no to people. But, I don't wear hot pink. I am most comfortable in sweaters, dark green or blue and even Spring pales to the color of Autumn. I am a hybrid of sorts. Recently I have tried to figure out why I am like this. I believe it is just me.



I remember when I was young, recognizing the only music I really liked at church sounded different from everything else. I remember it sounded sad even if it is wasn't. Once in elementary school, our music teacher came to class and had us listen to a song from a composer names Hector Berlioz. It was Halloween day and we listened to a song called, "Songe d'une Nuit du Sabbat." Our teacher pointed out the moment when the violins swirled and screamed and were plucked to sound like witches feet. The song was about a man who was in hell. I found it on a record a few years later and listened to it endlessly. I loved it. I loved how scary it sounded. It was different from everything else.

But, as much as I know this is me, I believe part of this came from my parents.

My mom grew up in Cleveland, has auburn hair, loves Autumn too, has a strange fascination with the Mafia and the Royal family. She reads murder mysteries, loves Motown, the Beatles, and the song, "Night on Bald Mountain." This was definately something different from the other mothers who seemed to hate Halloween.

My dad is a quiet man. He excels at math, science, and anything practical. He loves golden delicious apples in Autumn and the british comedy "Fawlty Towers." He also loves to read good fiction and is the only man I know who has read "2001: A Space Odssey." In fact he is a voracious reader and we have a lot in common...(including the fact we love to argue). But one thing my dad and I talk about endlessly is our favorite author, Ray Bradbury.

Ray Bradbury is best known for the High School required reading, "Farenheit 451." The novel was good, but I never understood why it was thought of as his best. Bradbury's writing is poetic. He is a lover of Autumn like my parents and his stories and novels are usually set in the season. Three of my favorites are "The Halloween Tree," "From the Dust Returned," and "Something Wicked This Way Comes." I grew up with both parents reading and discussing Bradbury's books at the dinner table.



Growing up with a mom obsessed with Halloween and Autumn, and a Dad obsessed with Bradbury, a regular movie at our house was not Snow White or Mary Poppins, but the movie version of "Something Wicked This Way Comes." For those of you unfamiliar with the novel, it is about a little town that gets a visit from "the Autumn People." The story is set in Green Town, Illinois and follows two young boys who are best friends. One of the boys is named Jim Nightshade. His father is a drunk and left him and his mother years ago. The other boy is named Will Halloway. His father is older and suffers from fear of age and regrets about his past. The Autumn People come to Green Town, running a strange carnival in October. People in the town start to disappear and soon, the boys get to the bottom of what the Autumn People are doing to the town. The novel is really about growing up and facing your fears and regrets. The movie version was a favorite at our house.*



This is really the first thing I remember loving as a child that seemed awfully dark (except for my obsession withTim Burton's Batman). The movie is such a lovely reminder of my childhood. Watching Johnathan Pryce as Mr. Dark in the library with Jason Robards as Charles Halloway is one of the most beautifully written scenes of dialogue of all time.

So, whether it is nature vs. nurture, I have only a few leads as to why I love the dark and minor. But,I do believe Mr. Ray Bradbury had some influence in the matter.

In July of this year, my brother and I received the opportunity to meet Mr. Bradbury at Comic-Con 2007 of all places! We listened to him speak about his career, and his love of the great authors. Then, he sweetly told the room how he was told over and over again through his career he wasn't a novelist, but a poet. I smiled from my chair, 15 rows back, and felt a connection with the man I'd read and listened to since I was little.






ps-As one can imagine, If I could and circumstances allowed, I would find someone close to me, walk through a park of falling leaves and read some Bradbury. Whoa. That sounds really cheesy. Maybe I could get away with wearing some hot pink.




*I used to watch it over and over again, except for a scene with spiders that may be the cause of my inrrational fear of spiders to this day.

The Spiritual Side

I like to think everytime I write, readers can see my spiritual side. I am what is known as a believer. A Christian. A Woman who knows God loves her. I read God's word and sometimes, I even go so far as so to trust it.

Today at church, I learned the four signs of a spiritually-minded person. These are from an article in the Liahona Magazine in 2001 by a Elder Douglas L. Callister of the quorum of the seventy of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He gave the following four characteristics of a spiritually-minded person:

1-"observant of the beauty in the world around him."
2-"aware of grand music, literature, and sublime art."
3-"scripture reading becomes more reflective."
4-"improves prayer."

As I sat in the congregation today, I grabbed a pen and wrote furiously of how I might continue to improve my realtionship with God. This realtionship can become strained and almost non-exsistant at times. I will let myself forget who I am and what I believe, in order to default to something I know takes less work.

This bit of truth this morning was enough to remind me, intelligence is of God. Poetry, music, literature, the physical earth, the physical body, scripture and the simple act of communication, is all of God.

Many years ago, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints published 13 Articles of Faith. It is our religion in a nutshell. It answers every question and today I was reminded of number 13:

"We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul- We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things."



God dwells in living. I almost forgot how vital it is for us to recognize that. Things get hard, even horrid. But, if you will have patience, I would like to share one more quote.

C.S. Lewis wrote a book about something I am terribly interested in: devils. He wrote a very popular book of letters between a devil and his demon-student. It is a very odd thing to read. You almost feel like you are reading personal letters which are none of your business, yet they are too close to home to put down.



Yesterday, I found my favorite quote, that (even being the cold-hearted wench I am) brings me to tears. It is a devil writing to his demon student about faith. (Note: the "Enemy" in this quote is God... remember these are devils writing).

"Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys." (Lewis, 40).

need I say more?

Bibliography (because I majored in English):
-Callister, Elder Douglas L. The Liahona, 2001 Lds.org
-Smith, Joseph , The Articles of Faith, History of the Church, Vol 4. pp. 535-541
-Lewis, C. S., The Screwtape Letters pp 40.