I know I'm faking it, faking it...

Yesterday I had to stop by to pick up my dry cleaning on my way home from work. As I walked back to my car, dry-cleaning in hand, wearing my favorite gray slacks and my heals clicking authoritatively on the pavement - I caught myself thinking "look at me, all grown up."

I suppose by most standards I have been grown up for some time now. I has been over four years since I graduated from college, I have served a mission, fallen in love and experienced heart break. I have my own snug little apartment, and a full time job at Penn State University. Despite all of that, from time to time I am quite surprised that I am grown up. I don't know that surprised is quite the right word - it is a more a feeling that I am just pretending to be grown up. Sometimes my array of slacks, skirts, sweaters and other professional clothing are just costumes and activities such as picking up dry cleaning, navigating rush hour traffic, and sitting in stuffy committee meetings are just parts that I play in the grand masquerade of pretending to be grown up.

Sometimes I look around me and wonder what it is like for everyone else to be grown up. I looked across the conference room table at the middle aged woman sitting there. Maybe she could see right through me and knew that I stayed up way too late the night before watching a movie with my best friend, all snuggled up in blankets because we were too cheap to turn the heat up. Maybe she wonders why on earth a Dean appointed a kid to chair the committee. Or maybe she is just as surprised to be grown up as I am.

I wonder if I will ever get used to being grown up or if some day I will find myself holding my first grandchild thinking "look at me, all grown up"

Shall We Not Go On In So Great A Cause?

Today is the anniversary of the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith



As I take the time to reflect on the life and mission of Joseph Smith I feel very grateful for his dedication and sacrifice and for the privilege I enjoy of having the Gospel of Jesus Christ in my life. When I feel burnt out, discouraged, or inclined to grumble, I can find new strength and determination by remembering the Prophet. I hope we can all take a moment to reflect on the life of a man who was so completely dedicated to what he believed to be true.

Battling Burnout

Maybe it is just cabin fever from month after month of cold, dreary days, maybe it is just the compound stress of live, or maybe some other set of reasons, but whatever the cause, I was feeling majorly burnt-out last week. I can't think of a better way to describe it. I just felt tired, particularly aware of my many weaknesses and faults, and didn't seem to be able to do anything without messing it up in some way or another. At least that was the way it felt. Looking back on it now most things were going fine, but the general feeling was that nothing was working out right.

What was bothering me most was not being able to figure out what was causing the slump. Generally, I am a pretty happy, optometrist person and while I have down days I can usually shake them off pretty easily. But not this time. So I went down to the temple with a dear friend on Saturday and had one of the most meaningful experiences I have ever had in the temple. I think  I was more prepared than I often am and I was definitely searching for answers and guidance, much of which I found in the temple that day. I felt much better after that, but there was still a bit of darkness I couldn't seem to shake on my own. So, my wonderful boyfriend and a good friend of mine came over on Sunday evening and gave me a blessing. As they placed their hands on my head and invoked the power of the priesthood it was almost like I could feel a physical weight lifting off my shoulders and I have been feeling great ever since.

I learned a lot of things from this experience, most of which are too personal to share here, but one important thing I learned is that it is important to be able to admit that we need help and turn to those around us to get that help. I am grateful for the wonderful priesthood holders in my life and for the comfort of the Gospel. I am grateful that I never have to face a dark day alone.

Perfect Friday

This last Friday was a wonderful day. Nothing big or amazing happened. It was just full of small things that made it wonderful. For starters, waking up and realizing it is Friday is a good way to start any day.

I went to work and stopped to day hi to the to guy who runs the front desk just like I always do and he said: "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Natalie Portman?" No one ever has, and I personally don't see the resemblance, but it was a nice self esteem boost nonetheless.

Next my boyfriend had a box of Valentine's Day candy delivered to me at work which was sweet and thoughtful. My coworkers all agreed that I have the best boyfriend ever - and I am inclined to agree with them.

Then in the evening I got to have the missionaries over and a few people they have been teaching to watch a movie about Joseph Smith and talk about the Gospel. It was amazing to listen to one of the girls talk about how she was looking to find more hope and purpose in her life and that she was starting to feel like this was the place to find it.

Just when I thought my day couldn't get any better. I got to spend the rest of the evening goofing off with my boyfriend and one of his friends from school. My life is so full of undeserved blessings and wonderful people. It often seems too good to be true.

Supporting each other

Last week we had some freezing rain here in Pennsylvania.  One evening my boyfriend and I were walking from his car to my apartment across the sheet of ice that was my parking lot. He quietly put his hand behind my back to steady and support me as we walked so I wouldn't, with my usual grace and coordination, fall and kill myself on the ice.

Although that was an example of physical support, it started me thinking about they way we all need each other from time to time to listen, encourage, and support each other. I feel very grateful for my boyfriend and many friends who so continually uplift, inspire, and support me and hope that I can do the same for them.

With Wondering Awe

Today in Relief Society we had a lesson about the life and Atonement of Jesus Christ which seemed wonderfully appropriate for the day after Christmas. During the lesson I thought about an experience I had as a missionary that I haven't thought about for a long time:


It was a week or so before Christmas and we got a call from a member asking us to go and visit a family he knew. We stopped by and the parents ushered us back to their daughter's bedroom. There lay a lovely young woman about my own age. Her body was weak and emaciated from the ravishes of cancer and she didn't have the strength to sit up and great us and she could barely manage to speak louder than a whisper.  I sat down on the side of her bed and explained who we were and why we had come to see her. We talked for a few minutes then she looked up at me with her big, beautiful, brown eyes and asked me what was going to happen when she died. I felt the peace of the Spirit come over me as I quietly told her about the Plan of Salvation, the hope of the Atonement, and the promise of resurrection.

I was transferred from that area the day after Christmas and I never saw her again. But I will never forget that moment in that quiet, dimly-lit room when we all felt the burden of death, pain, discouragement, and tragedy lifted though the power of the life and Atonement of Jesus Christ.

That to me is the true meaning of Christmas.

My boyfriend said that celebrate didn't seem like quite the right word to describe how we remember the coming of Him who took the pains and sins of the world so that we would not have to suffer the demands of Justice; of Him who made it possible that we could be resurrected and live for eternity with our families in the presence of God. The appropriate response, he said, would be speechless wonder and silent awe. I've had a quiet afternoon at home and spent hours studying and pondering the Atonement. I think speechless wonder and silent awe pretty well sum up the way I feel now.

Quiet Gentlemen

I am a people watcher.  I enjoy sitting back discreetly and observing humanity and how the interact. Recently I have noticed that there are a lot of quiet gentleman in the world. People who do the simple little things that make a better day for everyone. The people who look behind them and notice if there is someone to hold the door open for. The people who give up their seat on the bus, or let someone else on in front of them at a crowded stop. The people who smile and take the time to chat with the cashier who is checking them out. The people who thank the server and treat them respectfully. Most of the time no one noticed the little things these people do and the definitely don't take the time to thank them. But I notice them and I am grateful them for doing the little things that make this world a better place.

Good morning, Miss Idealism

One of my coworkers walked past my cubical on his way in to work this morning and greeted me with a cheerful "Good morning, Miss Idealism!" He was referring to a meeting we had the day before when I made a suggestion for improvement and everyone essentially patted me on the head and said "look how cute and young and idealistic Amber is - that idea isn't going to work." That sort of things happens fairly often at work and I am starting to get quite the reputation as "the idealistic one."

While is occasionally annoys me to have my ideas brushed aside I realized that I am okay with being "the idealistic one." I do have faith in the general goodness of humanity and I happy to be idealistic, naive, or whatever you want to call it. If I am going to err on one side or the other (and let's face it we all err on a regular basis) I would rather have to much faith in other people instead of being to cynical. So, setting aside the condescension of my coworkers I think I am comfortable with the title "Miss Idealism"

Poetry, Chemistry, and Purpose

Yesterday evening after I got off work, Justin and I went to a reading by the poet Toi Derricotte. While Derricotte is not going to make the ranks of my favorite poets, she had a lot of interesting things to say. There are a lot of things I could write about from the poetry and prose she shared or the conversations Justin and I had after wards about it, but I am going to set most of that aside and just touch on one idea.

As she talk about her poetry, the process of writing, and the way writing had pulled her out of deep depressions you could see in her this innate drive to write. She had to do it, it kept her alive, it was who she was, it was her passion. I wondered what it would be like to be drive by such a strong purpose and passion, then I realized that we all are to some degree. It is more expressed among the writers and artists of the world, but I see no difference between the force that causes a poet to write and the urge that keeps a friend of mine in his chemistry lab all night. The need to create, discover, cultivate, contribute. Whether it is highly visible or not, we all have driving passions in our lives. Things that we do for the sheer joy of doing them or because we feel some sort of urgency or call to do them. They aren't always big things, or things that make sense to anyone else. We may have never articulated these drives, even to ourselves but if we stop and look they are there - and if we haven't looked yet, maybe we should.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhLlnq5yY7k

I love snow

We got our first snow fall of the winter today. Not more than  a light dusting but enough to make me remember how much I love snow. Often when I vocalize that love I get bombarded with comments like "it's cold and wet" "it makes the roads dangerous" etc, etc. Granted, and the glass is half empty and sunshine gives you cancer too but that isn't a fun way to look at life.

I love snow because it is beautiful. Before a snow the trees are bare and most of the plants have faded from green to brown or completely disappeared into the dreary monotone of November. Then a snow comes and everything is bright again. The snow accentuates every branch and twig and clings to every fence post.

I love snow because it is peaceful. Nothing is as peaceful as a snowy morning. A few inches of fresh snow have fallen over night and it is still lightly snowing. The blanket of snow on the ground and the flakes in the air seem muffle sounds and there is a silence that is hard to find these days. No one is up yet and the layers of snow are unbroken by boots or shovels. Soon enough everyone will be up and the world resumes, but for that moment everything is perfect, pristine, and beautiful.

A sparrow shall not fall

Elder David Bednar taught us: "I have come to better understand that the Lord’s tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts which we receive from and because of and through the Lord Jesus Christ. Truly, the Lord suits “his mercies according to the conditions of the children of men” (D&C 46:15)."

This morning I randomly woke up in the early hours of the morning, I was awake enough realize that my alarm clock hadn't gone off yet so I didn't need to be awake and decided to go back to sleep when I thought came into my head to double check that my alarm clock was turned on. So I did and sure enough it wasn't. I turned it on and gratefully went back to sleep.  To some that may be nothing more than a coincidence or me subconsciously remembering that I had turned my alarm clock off over Thanksgiving and hadn't turned in on, but to me it was a tender mercy of the Lord. As presumptions as it may sound I believe that the All-Powerful Creator of the Universe cares whether I remembered to turn my alarm clock on or not and if I would sleep in and be late for work. Not because that is a particularly important thing, but because He loves me as He loves all of us and if we pay attention we will see signs of His love in every part of our lives.

Home is... where exactly?

I've been thinking lately about how I used the word 'home.'  For example I spent Thanksgiving at my parent's home in Ohio and in conversation I referred to it as 'going home for Thanksgiving' even though I haven't really lived there since I was 18 (which was more years ago then I care to admit) so is it really 'home'? As I drove to my parents house and saw the familiar streets and landscapes my mind was flooded with memories of growing up and the time I spend there with my parents and brothers had the familiar feeling of being 'home'.

As I drove back and walked into my cozy little apartment in PA I called my boyfriend and announced that I was 'home.' Curling up on my couch, cooking on my kitchen, talking about anything and everything with Justin also had the unmistakable feeling of being 'home'.

About a year ago I went back to visit my alma mater and remember I was wandered around the campus and town and checked in with the professors that were my mentors and best friends I also had that comfortable, safe, and happy feeling of being 'home'.

So where exactly is my home? Maybe the clique 'home is where the heart is' has some truth to it and my heart is slip up in various locations and I have many places to call home.

Thanksgiving #7

Thanksgiving #6

Today I am grateful for the maintenance guys in my apartment complex who always cheerfully and promptly help me out with my little domestic disasters. I got home from work to find a note from the maintenance guys letting me know they had worked on my kitchen sink and it was "draining good now" and it made me smile.

Someday I wold love to own my own home, but for now I am very glad to have help keeping everything in working order.

Thanksgiving #5

I am thankful for local church leaders. I am thankful for all the time and effort that they put into their callings with no pay, no recognition, and plenty of complaints, criticisms, and heartaches. We just had Stake Conference this weekend and I am thankful for all the stake leaders who do so much work behind the scenes when no one even realizes what they are doing. I am always thankful for my amazing branch president: I am thankful for how much he can make me laugh, I am thankful for how easy it is to feel his love for all of us, and I am thankful for how hard he pushes us to do our very best and how clearly he sees our potential when we don't understand it ourselves.

Thanksgiving #4

I was trying to make this posts about the little things I'm grateful for; the things I don't normally think about, but today I can't resist and I'm going to go for one of the big, more predictable thing.

I am thankful for my boyfriend. I've been getting over a minor cold these past few days and yesterday he picked me up from work and spent the evening with me. We made dinner together and then we were just hanging out and talking when the exhaustion of my full week of work and fighting off a cold caught up with me. So, my boyfriend wrapped me up in a blanket, went into the kitchen made us smoothies then held me while we watched what he calls an "Amber movie." I felt cared for, happy, and safe. Somehow it didn't seem right to write about anything else today. So, I apologize for my sappy, self-indulgent post today.

Thanksgiving #3

I am thankful for great books. For the stories that change the way you look at the world. For the characters that reflect your own strengths and weaknesses back to you from the pages. For the masterful sentences and paragraphs that you read over and over again just to revel in the shear beauty of the language.

I'm thankful to my parents who exposed me to the joy of reading in my childhood and for my boyfriend who will randomly call me in the middle of his literature homework to share some particularly beautiful passage with me.

Thanksgiving #2

Today I am thankful for hot showers. This time of year it is both cold and dark when I drag myself out of bed on work days and once I hop into a hot shower and suddenly my morning transforms. I wake up, I'm happy, and I can even see the beauty in the frosty sunrise. So I am thankful for indoor plumbing, for water heaters, for having my little apartment, and for living in this era of technology and comfort.

Thanksgiving #1

To get myself in the holiday mood for Thanksgiving I've decided to write a small post each day from now until Thanksgiving about something I am grateful for. So here goes.

I am grateful for my morning bus driver. I ride the same bus into work every morning and have had the same bus driver almost every morning for over a year. He knows my name (because I left my Penn State ID in the bus once) and always greets me with a smile and a "Good Morning, Amber." We exchange the basic conversational pleasantries and then I got to my seat. I'm not the only one he knows, he knows all the regulars - when they get on, when they get off, etc. More then once I've seen him stop even when someone forgot to request it because he knows that is where they always get off remind someone who has drifted off, or simply wasn't paying attention. These may seem like small things, but his happy face and cheery good morning are a great start to my day at work.

One Step at a Time

There has been a lot going on in my life lately. I'm still in training for my new position at work and working hard to get things done correctly and on time. I'm coming up on the last two weeks of the term at school so everything is coming due at once. On top of that I am trying to fulfill my church responsibilities, support others in their callings, do my visiting teaching, and be a good girlfriend.

Occasionally  I have moments when I start thinking about everything that needs done and a feeling of complete overwhelmedness wells up in me it everything seems to be slipping through the cracks.  Even while I am trying to accomplish one task my mind is racing to all the other things that need to be done and in that distracted state I cannot manage to complete anything well.  Then I remember the counsel that President Dieter F. Uchtdorf gave in the October 2010 General Conference: "When stress levels rise... too often we attempt to keep up the same frantic pace or even accelerate. ... It is good advice to slow down a little, steady the course, and focus on the essentials when experiencing adverse conditions. ...My dear brothers and sisters, we would do well to slow down a little, proceed at the optimum speed for our circumstances, focus on the significant, lift up our eyes, and truly see the things that matter most."

I am learning that when stress comes I can take a step back, focus on one things at a time and before I know it things are getting accomplished and my life in back in order again. I am also learning to focus on the things that matter most. I could spend a few more hours obsessing over my latest school assignment, or I could take that time and visit with a sister in my branch who is struggling and leave uplifted myself. I realized this weekend that one of the best things I did for my school work was to put it away on Friday night and go to a basketball game with my boyfriend. When I went back to my school work on Saturday I was refreshed, focused, and ready to do my very best work. I guess I am every-so-slowly learning to do "all things in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that [we] should run faster than [we have] strength. [But] it is expedient that [we] should be diligent." (Mosiah 4:27)