Life according to Angela – Page 62

A late summer outing

Richard’s work party was held last Friday evening at a local theme park. Richard was out of town, so we went without him.

We gathered from the far reaches of our current domains to be together. Paige came up from school in Provo and we met Daniel at his job in Murray. Timothy turned down two invitations from friends to be with us. Mark skipped a baseball practice.

After much ado, we were together, driving up I-15 in the old black minivan. I switched songs on the radio based on the commentary from the back seats. Finally, we resorted to the classical station, only to hear Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, its pensive notes contrasting with the mood of the evening. Timothy made a joke about roller coasters in slow motion to match the melody and we all laughed, the frustrations and responsibilities of the day sliding off and revealing a truer version of ourselves.

During that drive, a familiar feeling came to my heart. I felt as I did during our drives in Arizona, seeking homeschool adventure in our old van, years ago. Triggered by the old, well-trod pattern togetherness, we laughed as we heard Timothy and Daniel’s protests against Adele’s songs on every radio station. The voices were deeper and no one was strapped in a car seat, but some essential feeling had come back during the drive.

It made me wonder if I will ever love a stage of life as much those years when we ran around the desert together. It made me sad that I hated the desert so much when we lived there. I didn’t appreciate what a gift that isolation was to our family. I always loved time with the kids, but who knew the backdrop of our adventures would also hold my heart? When will my point of reference for “wonderful” move to a new period in our lives?

I have changed during these four years, living in the mountains. I don’t lead out in adventures with the kids as I used to. Did I impart all my courage to them, or have I redirected my courage to other areas? I have always lived with big fears, but they, too seem to change. A new fear is that the best days with the kids all together are over.

I want to remember this night because it reminded me that despite all that has changed, some essence of our family dynamic remains strong. We still love our times together. I want it to be enough to know that, despite the reality that similar days are rare.

The late summer twilight-lit faces, spinning and rushing through the park that night are a memory I hope will join the ranks of the good old days when I look back on it, years from now. By then, I trust that these bittersweet thoughts will be dulled by time and experience and new joys. The light really was golden on this evening, perfect for capturing and framing good memories.

A good movie

Richard was going to work a few hours from home today, and I just finished reading the book, Far From the Madding Crowd. I decided to watch the movie by myself on Vid Angel. He sat down to watch the first scene with me and immediately liked what he saw. Work was forgotten and we spent the afternoon watching this beautiful adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s novel together.

It’s good, good, good. It is certainly not as rich as the book, but the cinematography is as beautiful as Thomas Hardy’s descriptions. Most of the lead actors are just right, especially Gabriel Oak and Bathsheba Everdeen.

Lessons, hard-earned

I won’t share the experiences that prompted these lessons learned, but they are mine and maybe one will be helpful to you today.

Don’t forget to season your opinions with love for others.

You can love your opinions too much. These monuments to your “wisdom” and experience can be like idols, blinding you to the greater truths and realities that are all around you. Many truths can only be found through empathy and understanding for others and a willingness to obey God’s will.

When we speak out from a place of emotional pain or anger, it is easy to lose empathy and compassion, because these feelings draw us into ourselves. Anger and pain are part of life, but God is the best one to sort out these feelings with.

What will it matter that I made my point, if I lose a portion of my capacity to love in the process?

The people of August 31, 2016

I just deleted an obnoxious post listing all the things I did yesterday. I listed them under categories: Things I did for my kids, husband, church, community, and self. Here is the breakdown of how long the paragraphs under these headings were:

Things I did for my kids : (7 lines)
Things I did for my husband : (3 lines)
Things I did for my calling : (4 lines)
Things I did for my community: (1 line)
Things I did for myself: (2 lines)

So why did I delete the post? As I surveyed the intricacies of my day, it seemed to me that a lot of what I do is menial. A lot of what I do is repetitive. In all the listing and doing, I lost sight of the beautiful, most important parts of the day. What I want to remember about August 31, 2016 is not how many errands I ran, but who I ran the errands for and who I interacted with along the way. The most important things I did were not things, they were the interactions and connections I had with others.

Some reached out to me; I reached out to some; Others I visited, called, or wrote.

Here is a list of the people of August 31, 2016:

Richard
Paige
Daniel
Timothy
Mark
Tiffany
Courtland
Rachel
Jen
Kristy
Charlene
Cindy
Heidi
Dean
Roy
Camille
Sam
Janine
Steve
Ray
Shauna
Annette
Connie
Heather
Kiana
Cree
Sue
Kaye
Jennifer
Maren
Kelly

Wow, I didn’t realize how long this list would be. I am feeling really blessed to be surrounded by so many good people.

And so it ends and begins

1-DSC_2333 — The women in our family wear a tiara when they advance to a new decade.

1-DSC_2331 — 11th and 8th grade. Sorry, the picture is blurry because we were laughing.

1-IMG_20160812_111417 — Our free range child, in 5th grade this year in home school

She’s back at BYU. They’re back in the hallways and classrooms. Mark and I are back in session with home schooling. This transition to school felt pretty easy this year. No one started a new school, moved, or needed a lot of clothing and books.

It’s been a few years since I have been in this state about sending kids away each day to school,

04aba694b81b086629f824a4a72f41af — Michael Carson

and I am very thankful that I can teach Mark at home. I have tried to write this post several times since school started, but I learned that I don’t want to share much on this topic. I feel these milestones and beginnings deeply. I feel my differences in approach strongly at this time of year. So be it.

We can keep it real and stay positive at the same time

I posted this, took it down, posted it, took it down, and now it’s back, seasoned with more love. I decided this view is needed in a culture that encourages women to speak publicly of their faults and failings and parade negative details of their personal relationships. I received more feedback on this post than any I have written this year. This tells me that this is something we need to think about.

I was in a room full of women and someone asked me a very pointed question, that if I were to answer truthfully, it would set me and someone I love in a negative light. I answered truthfully, and I instantly regretted it. I think she was trying to humanize me, or make me more relatable. I felt crucified; my relationship with the person she asked about, tarnished. It made me sad that she thought it would help the group to hear me admit something negative about a personal relationship.

This kind of thing happens often among women. I’m not frustrated with a particular person, but a trend.

Some women have a habit that I rarely see in men, and that is the desire to compete for “last place.” Comments among women will often include someone admitting how bad they are at something. I try not to talk like this. However, it can feel really lonely to say I am doing well with something, or I have come to know something after a lot of effort. I admire women who speak from years of experience with confidence and positivity.

Some people want to “keep it real.” Some abase themselves so others can relate to them, or because they want to avoid bragging. Some women are just modest and don’t say anything. It is not wrong to be quiet, but I hope they feel empowered to speak when they need to.

I read reviews recently of a best selling book, a memoir of a woman exposing terrible, personal details of her marriage. Her aim is good, to help women be strong, but it feels sad to me that she felt the need to relate the most personal, horrible things to empower others.

No one FEELS perfect so it’s difficult to change the expectation of admitting failings publicly. If we focus on our negatives in order to feel accepted, are we really serving others? Or will the attention just be temporary, the definition of ourselves set as a victim or failure, as people hurry on to the next negative story? I wonder.

I will admit that my biggest trials and failures are where some of my most treasured understanding has come. Like pearls, my pain won’t be shown to just anyone, but the lessons I have learned, such as strength, empathy, and perspective can be shown in hundreds of ways without betraying myself.

I believe that it’s not necessary to broadcast our weaknesses or greatest pains, parading them like badges of humanity. Our weaknesses are still there, visible to many, whether we broadcast them or not. Our lives will have times when we need to acknowledge that we are grieving, or that we are experiencing difficulties. However, most of the time we can frame our lives in positives rather than negatives. I also believe we can change the outcome for our lives as we emphasize triumphs and hopes instead of our defeats and fears.

I saw this today

I read this on Facebook today. It was not directed at me, but it really made me think. We live in a time where people are looking for strength and signs of faith from their friends. Expressions of faith become an important responsibility in perilous times.

How will we share our faith today? Our electronic devices are powerful. How will we use them? We can contact hundreds, even thousands of people at a time through social media. Peter and Paul and Timothy would be astounded at the power we have to share the message of hope in Christ.

Charity Never Faileth

Here is some of what “Charity Never Faileth” means to me:

It’s possible to have courage and wisdom during difficult visits to the grieving, lonely, sick, and depressed. (Charity won’t fail you in challenging moments.)
My love for a person can endure, whether my hopes for that person are realized or not. (Charity doesn’t stop when a person chooses a different path than we imagined for them.)
When my feet are tired after many hours of standing, I can still smile. (Charity gives physical and emotional strength.)
Love for an individual is not contingent on a person’s behavior or any other thing. (Charity doesn’t limit us to our own circle; it expands our hearts to others.)
Expressions of charity are possible even when a person is going through a difficult time herself. (Charity allows a person who is grieving to support others.)
It is one of those qualities that we will take with us when we die, and it is one mark of a true disciple. (Charity defines us as Christ’s in the eternities.)
People will never forget even simple acts which are motivated by pure love. (True charity is etched in hearts, unforgettable and treasured.)

I also believe that daughters and sons of God can have this gift of charity in abundance, equally, but expressions of it will look very different. We need both men and women to develop charity. When men and women are motivated by the pure love of Christ, miracles will happen.

Dear July Self

I think I change a little bit every day, becoming a different person. Yes, I have received the same Myers-Briggs personality type every time I have taken the test since I was 20 years old, but I think my heart changes and capacity to handle challenges grows or shrinks, depending on how I spend my time. I’ve decided to evaluate some things I did and some things that happened recently. It’s a little weird, but I am writing to my past self. Sometimes you just need to give yourself a little talk.

Dear July self,

I am so glad you were able to visit with Julie Smith one Friday evening in a little restaurant in downtown Provo. There are few things more valuable than real connection with a friend, sharing experiences without fear of judgment. I’m also glad that you took the time to see her speak at BYU about her work in the Gospel of Mark. You should have taken a picture of the two of you instead of stealing that shot from Eric Huntsman’s Twitter feed.

You missed out on a day on a boat with the family to pursue one of your interests. You second-guessed your decision all day, but I think it’s really ok. There are things you learned that day that you will need later.

You heard some heartbreaking stuff from several friends and also received a hateful letter on social media. This was difficult, but I am glad people trusted you and you responded with respect.

Someone took advantage of your kindness and the result wasn’t what you hoped. But all well.

I am glad you read Hamilton.

I am also glad that you went to Fish Creek for a day even though there are no bathrooms there. It was worth it to see Rob and Melinda and the kids.

You wrestled with some decisions before finding some answers. Prayer, time, and temple worship are parts of a pattern that worked again.

The time you spent looking at social media was wasted time. You got into the habit of going to bed later and later. But these things can be fixed.

The days you prayed for Richard were better marriage days.

Lots of people were kind to you: Janine performed beautifully and helped compose the accompaniment for the violin piece you played; your presidency prayed for you; your parents planned a wonderful reunion; Richard fixed the broken sink, the door knob you installed upside down, and the washer. Shelene brought you bread and Cindy brought popsicles when you thought your whole family had Strep. You were able to speak up in church councils and teach Relief Society and share your testimony. You were blessed by the people around you every day.

It’s such a great life.

Sincerely,

Your August self

Lego hunt

August has come, and the schools are sending us emails and mail and phone calls. In an act of solidarity with the spirit of summer, today Mark, Timothy, and I went on a search for Lego figures, specifically the rare Lego babies. We passed Pokémon GO players, fixated on their screens, keeping our heads high and alert for the small yellow packages in stores. On our fifth stop we finally found them, zealously guarded at a counter at a toy store.

The blind yellow packaging made it challenging to know which figure we were handling. We were joined by other seekers at the counter, one clearly more dexterously confident. I would take a good two minutes to handle a package, while our neighbor, who brokered a deal with the cashier to bring out the remaining stock of figures, cast aside packages quickly. When the boys and I thought we found a Lego baby, he offered to feel the package to validate it. Instant friend! Expert in his field. He did not disappoint. We came away with two Lego babies…and several other novice (not pictured) surprises.

Richard takes the boys on grand adventures. Mine are designed to be shorter, less dangerous, and closer to fast food restaurants. It was delightful to be a kid with a couple of my boys, opening Lego packages as soon as we got to the car and exclaiming joy or bewilderment at what we discovered. It was a simple 3 hours, full of conversations, and I’m really glad we found something, or else the boys may not have agreed it was so fun. I was just happy to be with them, and not driving them to school and back.

They even offered to let me keep a Lego baby. My heart melted.