Performance Clips

I'm not posting these to receive compliments or praise, but rather to fulfill my promise to several friends who requested I post clips from my performances.  The Nutcracker went well.  And the support and love I received was all worth it.  I love you.  Merry Christmas!

Nutcracker Pas de Deux

Cavalier

Sugar Plum

Coda

Sugar Plums

December is quickly slipping away and I have been spending every free moment rehearsing for performances.  Tomorrow is the culmination of some of the hardest work I've ever done.  Emotionally, and most certainly physically.  The Sugar Plum Fairy is a role I never thought I'd have.  But, my gracious dance instructor, Kalie Lasley trusted me with this role.  I hadn't been back in dance but for a few weeks when I was offered the role.  And the roller coaster began.  

I was far from being in dancer-shape.  My leg muscles had been lost and my stamina was gone since I stopped dancing 5 years ago.  Frustration was enveloping me.  But, after a month or so of rehearsals, I was honest and real.  I was working with an angel, Ms. Tish Cordova of the Virginia Ballet Company and a rock of inspiration, Mr. Mark Rubin.  Mr. Rubin sat me down and asked me my impressions of the work I've done.  I broke down.  My wall crumbled.  I admitted it is difficult to aspire to something that I let go of years ago.  I was ashamed and felt myself hitting a wall.  I will never forget Ms. Cordova's words.  She quoted the book, The Little Engine That Could.

"I think I can I think I can.  I know I can I know I can.  I can I can I can!"

Certainly the things we tell ourselves affect our outcomes.  I've seen this so immediately and directly.  If I say to myself, "I've got this!"  I usually make it through the hardest parts of the 5-6 minute Grand Pas de Deux.  Even when I feel my toes bruising and bleeding in my toe shoes, I make it through.  

Last night was my last rehearsal at Virginia Ballet before my performance tomorrow.  We all reflected on the journey.  I tried to thank them for all their comments and compliments, but they kept saying, "No, we're just telling the truth."

What a gift this experience has been!  I would never have overcome the physical and emotional barriers that were blocking a full corrective emotional experience.  I am stronger because of it.  In spite of my nerves, I am excited to show my parents and especially Ms. Kalie how far I've come.  After writing this post, I am crying.  Who knew I would return to ballet at all.  And, on top of that, who would have surmised that I would be dancing a role I had dreamt about as a little girl?  Surely dreams come full circle.

Oh to be Grateful

I've had a lot of neat experiences over the past little while that have helped me realize the importance of reaching out.  I've really been trying hard to recognize the promptings of the Spirit more in my life.  And of course, to quickly obey them.  The opportunity to listen to and respond to a prompting of the Spirit can come as quickly as the opening and closing of subway doors.  So it is in my life.  Many times I have put a prompting on the back burner, only to realize its divine inspiration when it is too late.  

I have been rehearsing for my upcoming performances during every spare moment that I have.  It is a given that my Saturdays are booked.  Without a question.  But, I had a chance to just sit and watch a dance that the beginning ballet students (little girls around ages 5-8) are learning. One of those little girls has a special place in my heart.  Back in September, when I first began learning choreography, she came early and watched me dance.  She stood behind me, several feet away at first, mimicking my every move.  Soon she was a few inches away, making it difficult for me to dance.  I didn't have the heart to tell her to move, and I'm sure glad I didn't.

During her rehearsal last week, my instructor confided in me that her mother could not afford the costume for this particular dance and would therefore only be able to perform if another student was unable.  A huge box was hiding in the corner of the room and all the little girls knew it held the costumes they had been so anxiously awaiting.  At the end of the rehearsal, the glittery purple tutus were handed out.  This little girl did not understand that she would not receive a costume.  The instructor and the little girl's mother had to pull her aside to explain this painful truth.  I felt that even though this little girl barely knows me, I needed to say something.  I had a nano second to react.  She had her galoshes and rain coat on, about to head to the car with her mother.  In that moment, I made a decision: I ran from my seat and yelled her name.  I put my arm around her shoulder and told her that she has improved so much.  I told her she doesn't need any glitter to make her look more beautiful.  As she walked ahead, her mother leaned back and mouthed the words, "Thank you."  Knowing that I did something that was inspired is enough.  I don't need a huge hug and for things to suddenly be alright.  Because it was inspired, it was required.  That is enough.

Last week as I was volunteering at the hospital, I was about to leave a unit, thinking that the nurses on the unit never need any help.  I've asked every time and they always give me a curt "no" in response to my inquiring if they have any need for assistance and they send me on my way.  At once, I felt a prompting to ask.  Of the half dozen nurses on that unit, one told me to check a certain room, that maybe the mother was not back from a health education class yet.  I peered inside to find a 10 or 11 year old boy watching TV.  Before I could finish introducing myself, he began to nod his head enthusiastically.  I then asked, "Do you want to play a game?"  He continued to nod his head ferociously followed by an eager, "Yes!"  I pulled a few games out and eventually he creamed me at Battleship.  

Most of the work we perform in this life will leave us wondering, "Did I make a difference?" or "Whatever happened to her?"  But, we should not begin work thinking and expecting that we must know the outcome.  Life isn't perfect and will not always have a happy ending.  But, it is our responsibility to listen to divine promptings.  God has a plan.  We certainly act as angels in bringing it forth for each person.  

During this Thanksgiving week, I am grateful for those who have obeyed the promptings of the Spirit to assist Heavenly Father in guiding me and opening my eyes.  Thank you.

Come and Gone

October has come and gone.  I'm not exactly sure where it went.  Sheesh.  The beginning of November means the Holidays are fast approaching.  And if the Holidays are near, so is the end of my first semester at GMU.  And if the semester ends, then it means I've accomplished more this year than the last.  And if you give a mouse a cookie....Just kidding.  Kind of.  It just sounds like I'm reading, If You Give Mackenzie the Beginning of a New Month.  :)

I've been very apprehensive of feeling confident in my successes.  Up until mid-October last year, I felt confident.  Then I ended up in the hospital and withdrawing from BYU.  

This year around, I've been very cautious of what I choose to do with my time and the judgments I put on myself.  But, It doesn't help that I can feel Satan trying his hardest right now to make me feel inadequate, unworthy, and unloveable at such a sensitive time in my life.  He's trying to amplify my insecurities and assure himself of my demise.  It's interesting how he likes to do that, eh?

Nobody can have a smile on their face and a sense of self-assurance during tough times.  That's just not right.  But, I'm working.  I'm fighting.  No worries.  

I'm reminded of the clients I worked with over the summer.  I was grateful to catch a glance of one of them crossing an intersection at which I was stopped.  My mind and heart were reminded of the amazing individuals I was blessed to work with.  This specific client would ask my supervisor and me why bad things have to happen to good people.  It's an age-old question that stumps many.  mormon.org has a section on what we believe is the purpose of life.  (http://mormon.org/faq/#Purpose+of+Life)  I want to echo that Heavenly Father wants us to experience a fulness of joy.  But how can we taste the sweet without the bitter, as the cliche goes.  We have to learn and gain experience to be able to help ourselves, and those we associate with, receive that joy.  As an aspiring social worker, I have been told several times that you cannot take clients farther than you've gone in life.  I feel the same applies to friends, family, and loved ones.  Though we might not be able to see it in the midst of things, if we but have faith and focus our sights on the Lord, we can know that the Lord is guiding and directing us.  Thank goodness hindsight is 20/20!  Looking back and seeing this in action is part of the reason why I know what I just wrote is true.

Doubt Not, Fear Not

Reminders

Life gets busy.  And crappy.  Fast.  Thank goodness for homework assignments that make you look outside your temporal perspective and appreciate the eternal perspective.  I may not go to BYU anymore, but I can still see God's hand in the little things, like seemingly mundane photo assignments.

I have yet to finish editing these pictures, but I did indeed take these at sunset on Saturday.  

Fall is beautiful, especially in Virginia, and I thank my Heavenly Father for such a beautiful reminder of His love for us, His children.


Goal for this week:  Do more than just survive.


A year ago, I was barely surviving.  10 days later, I wasn't at all.  I just need to get past the next month.  I know it's going to be a huge stumbling block, but I need to move past this time in my history and prove to myself that I AM more than my past.

Full

My heart and spirit are full tonight.  Cliché?  Maybe.  But, I'll try to explain why it's the only way to describe what I'm feeling.

My heart is full of love.  Saturdays are the days when I get to volunteer at Inova Fairfax Hospital for Children.  There are some incredible stories that I am blessed to observe, to take part in, or hear about.  There are also some devastating occurrences.  Last week I was able to hold a baby cardiac patient.  After I settled into the chair and situated this baby's head comfortably in my arms, I looked around the room.  Hanging from each post of his crib were 2-3 Rosaries.  My heart began to ache for this family.  I was able to begin to sense what they must be feeling and for what they must be praying.  I said a quick prayer for this child and his family.  It had never seemed appropriate to pray for children that I don't even know but, for some reason, I was prompted to pray for this family.  I love the children I serve.  From the 7-day old infant I held this afternoon, to the 14-year old I played "around the world" with a few months ago, I love these children and it pains me to think they have to know so much suffering at such a young age.

My spirit is full.  General Conference was this past weekend (October 1-2).  It is amazing how Conference can take place over 8 hours and yet for the next 6 months, we learn so much more than what we actually heard!  The talk that stood out to me the most was by Elder Hales.  He described the importance of waiting upon the Lord in times of trials.  He says, "Every one of us is more beloved to the Lord than we can possibly understand or imagine. Let us therefore be kinder to one another and kinder toward ourselves."  We will never be able to comprehend the love the Savior and Heavenly Father have for us, in this life.  But, we need to understand that we are loved.  No one more than the other.  In turn, we need to show love and compassion to all those we come in contact with, and maybe some we never meet.  

Does that support why I had to be cliché?  I sure hope so.  I'm getting too tired to make coherent sentences.  So, au revoir.  At least for now.

Tender Mercies

"Dance is a song of the body. Either of joy or pain."

--Martha Graham--

Last week I was speaking with a friend about the experience I've had with dance this time around. I began by expressing the astounding positivity and love I am experiencing through dance since beginning again. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine such a stark difference between what I had known and what I now know. I then explained that I forgot how beautiful the body could be. Dance, to me, is such a lovely expression of what I feel and, at times, what I want to feel. I find the quote above the perfect description of the language dance is. The lines, the dynamics, and the extensions of the physical body, extend from the soul.

Dance has become such a cathartic release. It has reminded me that there is more than one way to express and cope with feelings.

I’ve had a hard past few weeks. When I took class last Friday, I had a lot on my mind that began to manifest itself in how I felt about my dancing abilities. When class ended, I slipped a customary curtsy to the teacher and began to head off. He called me back and said, “Mackenzie, you are a gorgeous dancer. Don’t forget that. I only call it as I see it. You are a gorgeous dancer.” I thanked him and ran off. Coming from a former dancer for the Joffrey Ballet, I know this statement was truly genuine. As I drove home that night, my eyes began to water. A loving Heavenly Father knows my every concern and every fear. He acknowledges each tear that hits my pillow at night. He loves me.

Elder Jeffery R. Holland spoke these words in the October 2008 General Conference:

My beloved brothers and sisters, I testify of angels, both the heavenly and the mortal kind. In doing so I am testifying that God never leaves us alone, never leaves us unaided in the challenges that we face. “[N]or will he, so long as time shall last, or the earth shall stand, or there shall be one man [or woman or child] upon the face thereof to be saved.” On occasions, global or personal, we may feel we are distanced from God, shut out from heaven, lost, alone in dark and dreary places. Often enough that distress can be of our own making, but even then the Father of us all is watching and assisting. And always there are those angels who come and go all around us, seen and unseen, known and unknown, mortal and immortal.

Angels [are] dispatched to bless us in time of need. But when we speak of those who are instruments in the hand of God, we are reminded that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods. Some of them gave birth to us, and in my case, one of them consented to marry me. Indeed heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind.

I am so grateful for the beautiful opportunity that we have to bless the lives of others. Certainly those I live and associate with every day have blessed me.

I am looking forward to my upcoming Christmas performances. It would mean the world to me to see faces in the crowd that I recognize. :)

--
MAG performances:
Saturday, December 10th 4:00 and 6:00 pm
Sunday, December 11th 9:00 and 11:00 am

Nutcracker Act II performance:

Saturday, December 17th 6:30 pm
--

A Culmination of Five Years

My last ballet class was the day before winter break 2006.  The next day I was in the hospital.  I had spent 13 years striving to fulfill my dream, to become something that I desperately wanted.  Until that 2 week stint in the hospital, ballet was everything.  The grueling schedule, the sore muscles, the infected and bleeding toes, the harsh criticism, and the bald spots from pulling my hair back too tightly were all what was required to become the prima ballerina I wanted to be.  But, having what you love the most bring you to the hospital for a lengthy amount of time is certainly cause for reevaluation.  

I was dancing at the Washington School of Ballet under world-renowned ballet masters and mistresses.  Many of my classmates are now professional ballet dancers with companies such as the Boston Ballet, Ballet West, and the New York City Ballet, just to name a few.  Believe me when I say I play the "What-if" game all too frequently in my mind.


As for me, I've spent 5 years living in fear of this monster.  I never wanted to come close to the idea of dance ever again.  The flashbacks were triggering and became too much to handle.  I asked those around me not to speak of ballet.  I changed the TV channel when "So You Think You Can Dance" came on.  I changed the radio station when the score to Swan Lake played.  I threw away my tights and leotards as well as many of the pairs of shoes in my pointe shoe collection.  


Recently, I came to the decision that I cannot live my life in fear, a paralyzing, debilitating fear of something that once was my life.  I still hold firm that the dance world is a cruel place.  It is not what little girls dream of.  It's pure hell.  But, there are a select few teachers who realize that dance can be a positive experience if the realization occurs that it doesn't matter if the students become professional or not.  It's the impact the teacher has on their lives.  


About a year ago, I began to consider taking classes again.  Last summer I was twirling in the kitchen.  Then I would stretch a little.  Eventually I was doing real ballet moves again, feeling around in the dark to see if my body still experienced the same euphoria it once had. 


Over the past few months, I began to search for one of the only ballet teachers who was a positive influence.  I finally found her name on facebook of all places.  After a few weeks, I called her.  Let me have you note that I hate talking on the phone.  It freaks the heck out of me.  I like seeing who I am talking to so I can measure their body language and facial expressions.  Long story short, it was a positive experience.  She invited me to take classes at her personal studio and if I want, I can teach dance at her studio to young dancers.  


My hope is that this experience will be one of healing and making peace with my body.  I want to correct emotions that have been eating at me for years.  I want to feel whole again.

Endings [Hopefully] Lead to Wonderful Beginnings

During the past little bit, I have closed several chapters in my life.  For one, I traveled to Provo for what could be the last time.  There really is no reason for me to travel to Provo anymore, as Courtney is done with school in Provo and most of my friends will be graduating soon and moving on.  I do have to admit that I was a wreck for most of my time in Provo this last time.  I would beg to run errands for my sister so I could be in the car alone; the only time when I felt I could let my emotions loose.  No matter how many times I tell myself that BYU wasn't the best fit for me, I still have an emotional connection with the school.  It wasn't easy to leave Provo in a matter of hours.  And it certainly isn't easy to return to relive those memories.  

But, I have a new opportunity in front of me.  I am beginning classes at GMU on Monday.  I am beyond a wreck.  A new school.  No one I know on campus.  No idea where things are or what to expect.  But, as scared and uneasy as I feel right now, I know that my Heavenly Father has a plan for me.  This knowledge is what is going to help me walk through the doors of my first class.  A beautiful opportunity that will allow me to lean on Him.

I said goodbye to Shelter House for the second time.  I interned with the Senior Community Case Manager at Shelter House for the past 2 summers.  The internship came at a time when I needed it the most.  The hardest part of saying goodbye was knowing that due to confidentiality, I will not be able to hear of the successes of the clients I worked with.  I can only dream of what their lives will be like in a few months.  May God Bless them.

Once again, there is a new beginning in store for me with the close of this chapter: I will see other facets of social work from now on.  As I progress in my program, I will have several required internships that will allow me to explore what I really want to do with the degree.  I've only had experience in the homeless sector.  First with FACETS and then with Shelter House.  I pray that doors will open for me as I know they will for my clients.

People enter our lives for a reason.  When I began volunteering at Fairfax Hospital, I met another LDS member around my age.  It was no coincidence that we worked the same shift in the same unit.  I was so blessed to be able to feel connected to someone during a time in my life when I felt so alone.  Now that 6 months have passed since I began volunteering, I feel more at ease because I met her--not just in the hospital setting, but in social situations with other single members in the Church.  I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father who knows better than myself what I need in every moment.

Due to a scheduling conflict, I can no longer work the same shift as that sweet young lady.  I'm not quite sure what the new beginning will be, but there's got to be one, right?

I have a testimony of the love Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, have for each one of us.  I know my Heavenly Father takes note of every tear that hits my pillow at night.  I know tears are a part of the plan just as much as are smiles and laughs.  Here's to many smiles and laughs that are bound to come (hopefully) soon.  

For This Reason Were You Saved

Children's curiosity has no limits.  When I was young, I would follow every statement with "why?"  I was born with the desire to know the reasons why to every question, every situation, and every problem.  

I'm still this way.

I was blessed to have a friend move back into the area after almost a year, and as a result we have spent hours talking, just catching up.  As we spoke, he told me of times in his life where his life has been saved.  In situations where many would have died.  I knew that this was no coincidence.  It's not just luck.  There must be a reason why he was saved, when so many are not.  

I then began to turn  to my life.  Last summer, I left the office where I work with enough time to get to an appointment I had in Vienna.  The distance between the starting point and the ending location was great enough that I had to take I-66 to Vienna.  It was about 4 PM, and rush hour had not yet quite begun and because I was not in any particular hurry, I went the speed limit (which is a rare occurrence for anyone in the DC Metro area).  I was about to my exit, when a car sped diagonally, just barely missing the front end of my car.  I honked and then to my horror I witnessed the vehicle cross two or three more lanes of traffic, speed off the road, onto a hill and into a huge tree.  After I caught my breath, I pulled to the side of the road, as did many.  The car was crushed into the side of the tree and the driver was trapped.  A few brave men tried to pry the door open with no success.  I stood, confused and befuddled as firemen, paramedics, and policemen pulled onto the scene.  I left after giving a statement.  As I turned on my engine, I began to quietly sob.  If I had left even a second earlier, had I pushed on the gas pedal just a little more, I would have been crushed between the now totaled car and the tree.  I will never comprehend why I walked away with my life that day.  That was not luck.  That was divine intervention.  

I want a concrete answer.  I want someone to say, "For this reason were you saved."  None of us may know why we were alive before we die.  Maybe the purpose behind my life has already been accomplished.  Until I know, I will be on pins and needles.  

Not by Coincidence

I've had a lot of experiences this week that remind me that life is not just a huge pile of coincidences.  

On Monday I was able to view a triple bypass heart surgery (and I didn't even faint!).  To see the heart at work is an incredible experience.  But, to learn how and be able to witness the body work to survive and eventually heal is amazing.  The knowledge, skills, and technology we have now to save lives is beyond my comprehension.  This is not by coincidence.

Yesterday I went with my dear friend Erin to tour the Capitol.  (Might I add that my sister far exceeded the abilities and charisma of our tour guide.)  At the beginning of the tour we were shown a short film to educate visitors on the history of the Capitol and Congress.  The struggles of our country's founding fathers came to life once again for me.  There is no doubt in my mind that God's hand was in the creation of our country.  Our Constitution was not created by happenstance.  It was not a coincidence.  

If God is able to create and inspire, maybe there is hope.  

Inspired

It's been a hard week for me.  I don't feel like I belong.  Part of me holds resentment towards the dance world, or maybe myself for being so alone.  For the most part I don't sit around, sulking.  I've tried to reach out.  I've tried to get out.  It's summer, but it feels like winter in my mind.  

I prayed that I would have a meaningful experience during my weekly volunteer shift at Inova Fairfax Children's Hospital.  No such luck.  There were 5 volunteers and no patient needs.  Okay maybe 1, but the baby quickly fell asleep and then the parents came to reclaim their position in the rocking chair.  Well, I needed to make up some hours and went in on Saturday.  I knew there would be nothing to do.  If Friday was slow, imagine Saturday when a lot of parents don't have to work.  Well, my negative attitude quickly faded as I realized that there was 1 of me and about 4 babies and a toddler or two that needed rocking or playtime.  I spent the entire 3 hours with one baby.  Her parents had come in earlier that morning, but had not held her.  She was fussy.  "I like to be held" was written on the white board in her room.  This sweet little girl, who was probably too young to see much, began to look all around.  The view from the hospital crib is...wait a minute there is no view between the metal bars and plastic overhang.  Finally her eyes would settle on me and then to the toy I was told she loved. After about 45 minutes of feeding through her NG tube, she fell asleep.  And so did my arm.  I would try to reposition her and she would begin to fuss.  3 hours passed when I put her back in her crib.  I began to inconspicuously leave the room, but she began to wail.  I peered back in, and once her eyes met mine, she stopped for a moment.  It seemed as though she was telling me, Please, don't leave.  I apologized to the nurse and expressed my regret that I had to go.  The nurse thanked me and noted that it was something the little girl really needed and that she would be fine.  I knew that the nurse meant that the little girl was used to lack of attention and would quickly soothe herself.  Having been in the hospital since birth, this infant would never be afraid of strangers.  This was her life.   And this is mine--to learn to fight.  Not a tangible health condition like this little girl.  No, something that I fear I will always have to fight underneath the facade that I am well and happy.  Something I have become skilled at doing.  The brutality of an eating disorder.  The devastation of depression.  And, the fear that I will never find happiness.  

The meaning behind the title of this blog keeps ricocheting in my mind.  I am learning from others how to love myself.  Maybe this infant had a larger impact on me than I had on her.  Just maybe this experience which she will never remember is one that I will treasure forever.

Adventures in Utah

Boy did I feel like a new mother when I left Friday morning for Utah.  I texted my mom at 7 AM to ask how my dog was as I was sitting on the tarmac.  Every time my parents called me, or I called them, I cared more about my puppy than anything else.  I worried that he wouldn't remember me, or he would grow too much.  I brought pictures and movies to share with my sister and friends.  I even talked to my Riley on the speaker phone.  Dad said he recognized my voice, but I think Dad was just trying to calm my nerves.  Below is a picture of Riley's graduating "puppy kindergarten" class, minus a few.

In other news, Amelia and Christian were married and I was able to be there!  Well, actually outside the temple and at the reception.  Yep, I've been to 4 weddings in the past year and never been able to witness one.  

It was a new experience to be able to wait outside the Salt Lake Temple.  Courtney and I arrived at 1:15, 15 minutes after the ceremony started.  I was worried that I would miss her coming out of the temple.  You never know how long the ceremony will take.  Well, we were so worried that we had missed it, I began to ask people what wedding they were there for.  We found out that the next bride preparing to come out had her ceremony begin at 12:20.  So, we got to watch 3-4 brides come out before we met Amelia and Christian.  It really is like what everyone jokes about; brides come out every 15 minutes.  All the families wait anxiously for their bride and groom.  On one occasion someone had to yell to the crowd:  "Whose bride is this?"  And then everyone would back up and let the respective family forward.  The famous picturesque staircases had people waiting for their opportunity for pictures.  Well, while we were waiting for the pictures, I experimented with my camera.

While the photographer was taking photos of Amelia and Christian and their families, we were assigned to be the entertainment for the kids in the pictures.  You know how a photographer usually has a squeaky toy or rattle to make the kids look at the camera?  Well, Courtney and I were the toys.  :)

The reception was beautiful.  I love my friends so much.  It was bittersweet be in Utah for the weekend.  It's hard to be so far away from those I love.  The friends that mean so much to me.  It was hard to leave, not knowing when I'll be back.  I love you.  I guess for now it's my position to create and strengthen new relationships.  But they will never be the same.  Ciao for now.  

"Am I Gonna Turn Out Fine?"

Sometimes times get hard.  That is a fact of life.  I could end there.  But, there's also more to life than that.  It is all too easy to spend time questioning where you're going and if you're going to get there.  My [new] theory is that if you just keep walking, you'll find something.  Something that will change your point of view.  For that to happen, you need to keep walking.  Stopping for a prolonged period of time to figure things out will only give you a better view of the storm.  So, why not keep walking with the hope that things will change.  They have to, right?   Let's be honest.  I've struggled.  I've lived 10 years of my life succumbing to horrible, horrible diseases.  There have been times when I have stopped, thinking, "I just need to rest."  Well, I always chose the wrong place at the wrong time to rest.  From this last bout of relapse, I have realized that you can't give up on yourself.  Sometimes you're the only one you have.  If you don't stand up for yourself, who will?  

I didn't know what I wanted out of life.  I didn't even know if I'd survive.  But, I had people telling me that I needed to start doing something.  Anything.  So, I chose to do what I knew I used to love: volunteering.  I like to think that I began walking.  Believe me, the walk was treacherous and long.  I had to rely on others.  Yet, those I leaned on say I did most of the work.  That's debatable.  But that's not the point.  The point is if I stayed in that one spot, hoping the rain would let up, I would still be there.  It's as simple as that.  

Andy Grammar sings these words in his song, "Keep Your Head Up,"

I'm seeing all the angles, starts to get tangled 

I start to comprimise 

My life and the purpose. 

Is it all worth it, 

Am I gonna turn out fine? 

Oh, you'll turn out fine. 

Fine, oh, you'll turn out fine. 

But you gotta keep your head up, oh, 

And you can let your hair down, eh. 

you gotta keep your head up, oh, 

And you can let your hair down, eh. 

Things may not turn out the way we want them, but they'll turn out fine, one way or another.

  

Risky Living

Yep, this week I lived on the edge.  I jumped off the cliff called Comfortable.  I approached people and was honest.  I initiated conversations and even asked friends to do things with me.  Crazy, huh?  

Some people came out of the womb being able to talk freely and openly without much thought.  Not me.  I'm not quite sure I was born doing much more than crying--no joke.  I have to remember that the rejections I label as "failed attempts" may turn out to be for the better.  When I first moved home from BYU for medical treatment (failed attempt) I e-mailed the supervisor I worked under the summer before.  I love that summer.  I was an intern with an organization that operates 3 homeless shelters.  Talk about developing self efficacy!  When she responded, she said I was not needed and that I should look into volunteering at one of the shelters.  Another failed attempt.  Well, the months rolled by and I was accepted to GMU and started to practice risky living.  No, not becoming a sleezy druggie, but realizing that failed attempts come from being stuck in a world that is too small or too uncomfortable.  I began to attend a a single's ward where I knew nobody.  3 months later, I have a calling and know 2/3rds of the people there, and better yet, people know me!  I applied to a more diverse university that had the major I was really interested in and was accepted.  About a month ago I received an e-mail from my aforementioned supervisor.  She applauded my work last summer and was wondering if I would work with the organization again.  Godsend!  Back in November, soon after I e-mailed her, I had to be admitted to the hospital and that wouldn't have been ideal for an internship position.  Now, 6 months later, I have overcome so much and am now able to devote my time and attention to the things I love.  Miracle!

After that long-winded message, the point I mean to drive home is...

Don't Settle for Easy and Comfortable.  Take Risks and Though They May Seem Like Failures at First, You May Be Surprised at How Things Turn Out...For Better of For Worse.

 

Things I've Learned of Late

I don't often write about my religious beliefs on my blog, but this needs to change.  I should not be ashamed of what I know is true.  If people have the right to proclaim their atheist views, don't I deserve the right to share my beliefs without being shunned or lambasted?  The Gospel of Jesus Christ is the beacon by which I try to live my life.  So, here is a post that I feel strongly about.  Please don't stop reading here.  No matter what you believe, there is truth in what I have to say.

We all have trials.  That's no secret.  If you didn't think life was meant to be hard, then I'm here to give you a rude wake-up call.  It is easy to forget why tough times are imperative to our development.  As I was listening to comments made in Church yesterday, one, in particular, stood out to me.  Elder Holland has said:

"Every experience can become a redemptive experience if we remain bonded to our Father in Heaven through it. These difficult lessons teach us that man’s extremity is God’s opportunity, and if we will be humble and faithful, if we will be believing and not curse God for our problems, He can turn the unfair and inhumane and debilitating prisons of our lives into temples—or at least into a circumstance that can bring comfort and revelation, divine companionship and peace."

The hardest, most devastating events can become sacred monuments in our lives if we but remain hand-in-hand with our Father.

I am guilty of leaning unto "mine own understanding" and believing that I need to separate myself from God to find myself.  It is just the opposite that is needed in times of tribulation. This is my rude wake-up call.

If I had only realized this eternal truth, I could be in such a higher place than I am now.  I feel this is the case for many of us.  Heavenly Father gives us so many opportunities to grow and become better people.  If we took every chance God gave us and learned what God wanted us to learn from it, wouldn't we all be in such a better place and mindset?

On a simpler note, Riley is doing well.  :)  There are many things that he does that make me take a step back from the craziness of life, and just smile.  Whenever I take him outside, even if just for a few minutes, he loves to find a "souvenir" to bring in with him.  His favorites are leaves, sticks, and "helicopter" seeds.  He'll carry them in his mouth and try to climb up the stairs with them.  He has yet to master both at the same time.  But hey, he just learned how to go up and down the stairs.  In the morning he loves to cuddle right next to me and mimic the position I am in.  If I'm on my back sleeping, I wake up to see him on his back right next to me.  This morning I was sleeping on my side.  So was he.  He also is learning that if he throws himself at the make-shift gate we created for him in just the right way, he can escape.  He literally escaped 5 times in less than an hour yesterday.  His signature move is to hop like a bunny.  When he gets excited he'll hop around the room.  My dad loves to tell him, "You're not a bunny!"  

Here's the latest picture I have of the growing pup--

Hopefully he'll win the cute pet contest I entered him in.  ;)

Wind Through My Hair

As spring is shyly popping up its head, I'm remembering I love the feeling of spring.  One of the things that got me through months and months of difficulty and hardship in Utah was walking to and from campus.  During the walks I would try to notice the little things.  A lone wildflower gratefully missed by the lawn mower.  Leaves cascading from the tree tops.  A little bird, finding its voice.  But above all else, the wind through my hair.  Sometimes it takes a little nudging to notice what we take for granted.  For me, it's a miserable day.  Those are the times when I try to find a testament of God's love in my surroundings.  Why else would He create such beauty in this world?

I received my acceptance letter to George Mason last week.  It was sweet to drive home to my youngest brother running up to me, trying to greet me at the car window as I pulled into the driveway.  He could hardly catch his breath as he shoved an envelope into my hands and said, "You got a letter from George Mason!"  I just sat, staring at the postage stamps and my name printed on the envelope.  My very anxious and excited brother said, "Well, did you make it?"  I hadn't even begun to tear open the envelope and he was dying inside.  I carefully tore through the sealing.  We both held our breath.  It was a yes.  I was accepted.  In spite of all the nerf-bullet shootings and begging to play video games, it's the moments when my younger brothers let their guards down that remind me that I love them.  This was no exception.  He knew how much this meant to me.  It was the sign I was waiting for that would prove to me I made the right decision moving back out here.  And, he was there to share in the excitement.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

I pray that I will have the experience to feel the wind through my hair and remember it's not about the big moments you expect, but rather the little things that you never notice that change your life.

Finally, It Clicked

I'm the kind of person who can't move past the negative events that have happened in my life.  I don't like to talk about my adolescence much.  It's full of negative emotions.  But, I've been reflecting on my high school years a lot recently.  I feel I can begin to share some of those aspects.  It's no secret I was on the road to become a professional ballerina.  It had been my dream since I was 3 years old.  I studied at The School of Washington Ballet for 4 years.  Some may feel I use it as a scapegoat, but really, it was hell.  When I stopped dancing cold turkey (because yes, it is an addiction in and of itself), I wasn't equipped with many social skills.  I had always believed that I needed everyone to like me.  This was my misery....

But it has FINALLY clicked!  I have begun learning to love [fill in the blank (i.e., life, myself, my family, learning, etc.].  And because of that, I realize that I don't need everyone's stamp of approval.  I am learning I need to be my own best friend.  Really, that's all anyone needs.  When the world is against you, who is going to stand up for you?  Who is going to have your back?  I have been my own bully.  I have not treated myself the way I treat others.  I have picked out the negative events and in turn I have dwelled on them for years on end.  

Now that I am learning to treat myself better, I realize I am worth more than I have ever given myself credit.  I deserve so much more than what I have settled for in the past.  

Well, a lot has happened in my life.  Namely, I got a puppy!  Yay!  He has settled into the home and hearts of my family.  He is a lot of work, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  

This is Riley at 10 1/2 weeks

I do realize I am a crazy dog lady.  I incessantly post videos and pictures of my dog on facebook.  And, I even entered the above photo in a cute pet contest.  This is embarrassing.  I'll move on.  

I'm still loving my work at the hospital.  It makes me realize that no matter if I am remembered in the future, my efforts can make a difference.  The children that most people would turn away from are the ones who change my perspective.  There is one lady who works the shift after me.  She only likes to help the babies in the pediatric unit.  I understand, but at the same time am frustrated because there is so much more work to be done than swaddling infants!  There are more people [and children] in the world than jovial and cute children.  Well, I'll get off my soapbox.

In other news, I went crazy a few weeks ago when I found out Clean Play DVDs was going out of business.  I bought nearly 20 edited R-rated movies.  Some include The Godfather, Amelie, Gladiator, 127 Hours, Slumdog Millionaire, Billy Elliot, and so many others.  What movies do you wish were clean[er]?  

Well, overall, I would say the past 3 weeks have been more positive than toxic.  That's always good.

The Awesomeness of Life

Being home as my mom's little puppy dog (not literally), I follow her around to run errands.  Other than Sephora, one of our favorite errands to run is to shop at Barnes & Noble.  After we had found the book we sought out to buy, my mom browsed her favorite section: the cook books.  I don't really fancy searching through books about food and even more food, so I looked through the self-help and psychology section.  I am a sucker for these kind of books.  Some may have a guilty pleasure of reading cheesy paperback romance novels or travel guides of countries they know they'll never go, but me, I choose self-help and psychology books.  Well, I found a book that put the biggest smile on my face:  The Book of Awesome.  It detailed aspects of life that we take for granted.  For example, waking up and realizing we still have more time to sleep.  Or, wearing clothes fresh out of the dryer.  Maybe the smell of a recent rainfall or perhaps falling asleep and waking up with a blanket that someone put on you.  I found his original website that became famous before he published the book.  I recommend taking a minute to look at it:

1000 Awesome Things

Well, here's an awesome thing:  I visited with a dear friend, Heidi, this weekend.  We took one of her dogs for a walk through the woods.  We came to a creek, climbed onto a rock in the middle and just sat and talked.  It was amazing.  I forgot how beautiful the sound of rushing water is.  I forgot how fast time can fly when you spend it with a good friend.  And, most of all, I forgot that being with people who understand you makes everything better.  

Passions

I was officially discharged from my treatment program on Thursday.  Since then I have been somewhat busy doing things that are meaningful.  On Friday, I began my volunteer position at Inova Fairfax Hospital in the Pediatrics Unit.  My shift is on Friday from 1-5 pm.  So, for the first 2 hours or so I was oriented to the rules and responsibilities of volunteers.  The next few hours were spent touring the units that are encompassed by the term "Pediatrics."  The PICU, the general Pediatric Unit, and the Oncology/Hematology Unit are all included as well as the Adolescent wing on the 4th floor in the main tower.  Whoa!  Let's hope that when I return on Friday I don't get lost trying to find my way around the gigantic hospital.  Literally, it's gigantic!  I am able to separate cases that I work with from my personal "baggage."  For example, when I was an intern with Shelter House, I was able to view the cases as just that, cases.  I didn't get emotionally involved, but knew there was work to be done and that by being caught up in the tragedies of the situations, nothing would get done.  I've found the same applies to my volunteer position at Fairfax Hospital.  I see infants, toddlers, children, and teens with apparatus of all shapes and sizes attached to them, and yet I don't begin to cry and feel overwhelmed emotionally.  Instead I see children who need, for their healing process and wellbeing, to smile.  I have found a passion:  Working with children in the hospital.  I think I want to become a social worker in the hospital.

I was told today by a dear friend and mentor that I need to begin to stop dallying in the past and accept my life today and where it's headed.  I must admit that I have been depressed looking at where I know my life SHOULD be and what it COULD be.  It is time to accept that things probably won't work out as assigned by the "gods of social acceptance."  I won't finish school in 4 years and at the same school I started.  I won't be married by the time I'm 22, as Mormons tend to insist on.  I won't be living on my own by the time I'm 21.  And the list could go on and on and on.  Shel Silverstein's poem comes to mind:

"Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be." 

Just because I'm not living my life as it SHOULD be or COULD be, doesn't mean I can't have a fulfilling life!  "Anything can be."

To catch up on something fun, last week Hanna, a dear friend from BYU, met me in Old Town Alexandria and we walked along the waterfront and down the brick-paved streets, occasionally stopping in a boutique here and an antique shop there.  Here's some pictures from the George Washington Masonic Memorial...

Don't you love the sun peaking through the clouds

 like "God Rays" as Hanna and I termed?

View of Old Town from the Masonic hill

Yay for Hanna and me!

Golly Goodness

It's been 3 months exactly since I last blogged.  And I must say a lot has happened.  Since I came home November 13th from BYU, I have been learning what life has to offer other than studying and taking tests.  I first began by embroidering.  I love to embroider and my mother and I are doing a project together to make a quilt.  I plan to embroider 15 patches and my mother will sew them and other patches together.  I must admit, I felt beyond my age when I would embroider on my mother's bed while watching trashy soap operas.  Well, then I got into watercolors.  Another excellent past time.  Mid-December, I traveled to Utah to clean out my apartment and attended my cousin's wedding.  It's heart wrenching to leave Utah in my past. Maybe that's why I haven't fully unpacked my belongings (mind you 6 boxes and 2 suitcases).  I tried very hard today to make headway in my unpacking ordeal, but had to stop as I began to become emotional while unpacking books and notes from BYU.  It's been difficult in Virginia.  I've left some of my closest friends behind.  I've put my degree on hold.  And, the circumstances surrounding my withdrawal have been difficult to deal with.  

Well, enough of a downer.  I am glad that I have made new friends who are so supportive and encouraging.  I am grateful my parents are willing to help me through this rough time.  I am astounded by the excellent resources there are to help those with my condition.  

For every post until I catch up on things, I am going to share pictures about recent events I've been able to enjoy while I've been home.  Another way to remind myself that good 'ol Virginia isn't that bad. :)

Last week I was able to attend the NEDA Awareness Walk in DC with some great friends.  Eating Disorder Awareness and Advocacy are a passion of mine.  Though the weather was a bit chilly, the companionship of 50+ walkers warmed my heart.  (I know, a little cheesy.)

Yay for good friends and supporters.  Love you!