Thank You for Teaching Me Beautiful Things

I made it a little more than obvious that I am emotionally struggling in my last blog post.  Just a day later, I was trying ever so hard to be happy.  It was exhausting.  I was co-teaching a dozen or so little beginning ballet students and they somehow knew how to make me feel inadequate at what I was doing.  Then, with just 10 minutes left in the class, a little dancer who is struggling in learning ballet came up and gave me a huge hug around my hips, smiled up at me and said, "Thank you for teaching me beautiful things, Miss Mackenzie!"

As the week continued, I kept thinking of that sweet little face and sincere, unprompted comment.  Even amidst the high level of emotional dysfunction I experienced this week, I couldn't let this image go.  Today I spent 3 hours at Inova Fairfax Hospital for Children.  As I walked out to my car in the warm 70 degree sunlight, I was beaming.  A long, hard 2 weeks had ended with a perfect close.  I hadn't even noticed it until it was almost too late.  I opened my car door and, instead of collapsing on the steering wheel, I held my head high and my shoulders back.  My mind turned to heaven.  I thanked my Heavenly Father for His goodness and mercy.  I thanked Him most of all for teaching me beautiful things.  

Through the heartache and depression and doubts, I have grown closer to my mother.  I have leaned on friends--friends that I know will always be there throughout my life.  I have learned how to get my needs met, specifically how to ask for support and love and help.  I have seen that thoughts are thoughts; actions are actions.  They are not one in the same.  

The late Prophet of my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Gordon B. Hinckley said, "The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best cure for weariness is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired. One of the great ironies of life is this: He or she who serves almost always benefits more than he or she who is served."

I am grateful for the speed at which information can be shared in this day and age.  I saw this video pop up on facebook from one of my friends.  I love it.  It is perfect.

Considering the frequency at which individual discouragement comes, it can be easy to forget all that is beautiful and good.  We cannot let this happen.  Focus on the light, no matter how small, focus on the light.   Focusing on eliminating the darkness will only give power to it.  Work on increasing the light.  Losing yourself in service to another is one way to do so, until eventually there is enough light to provide life and hope.  Trust me.  I've lived through this time and time again.  Light will always outgrow the darkness if you cultivate and nurture it.  

Take Time to Hurt

My heart is hurting.  A hurt that I know everyone goes through.  And yet it feels so personal and goes so deep that I can't seem to think anyone knows what I'm feeling.  The details will be spared.  I want to focus on realizing we can all take time to hurt.  There is no way anyone can fully heal if they don't take time to acknowledge the pain and allow themselves time to grieve.  Healing will come.  I may not believe it right now, but I know it is true.  I know the Atonement of Jesus Christ covers every heartache.  I know the Atonement will help me through this seemingly insurmountable trial in my life.

Over the past week I have been so emotional it has truly inhibited by ability to notice the beauty that surrounds all of us.  I was sitting in Church this past Sunday, tissues in hand to make sure no one could tell my makeup was slowly being washed away.  I felt a little finger tap my shoulder.  I ignored it.  I felt two little fingers tap my shoulder.  Again, I ignored it.  Finally after a third and fourth attempt, I turned around.  A handsome young boy had been so desperately trying to get my attention.  I smiled as big as I could and let out a big "Hi!"  As I turned my attention back to the speaker, I heard his sweet voice say, "Mom!  She said hi!"  His mother replied, "See?  It isn't so hard, is it?"

While my argument that we need to take time to hurt still stands, we should not and cannot allow our hurt to stop us from realizing there is good in the world.  It is so easy to become jaded during moments of hurt.  I am guilty of this.  Had I allowed my hurt to fully envelop me that day, I would have certainly affected someone.  Just not in the way anyone would hope.  That little boy's social experiment would have failed.  Just as happiness is contagious, so is sadness.

There have been a few moments over the past week that I cannot afford to forget or label as "coincidences."  They are proof that a loving Heavenly Father has not left me alone.  These little "God winks" are there for us to realize He is still there.  Maybe not in the way we would hope.  But, He is still there.  There is beauty in knowing this.  While knowing this isn't a cure-all antidote for the hurt I am feeling, it does give me hope.  An enduring hope that beauty does not disappear even in times of trial.  We just have to have the eyes to see it and the hearts to hold it.  

Don't Take Yourself So Seriously!

Tears slowly dripped down my cheeks as I drove home after an exhausting day filled with academic critiques and a full night of dance lessons.  These tears were an 180 degree change from the tears that slowly dripped down my cheeks just 3 1/2 hours earlier beneath my bug-eyed shades protecting me from the late afternoon sun.  

Earlier in the day, it occurred to me that this week is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.  I immediately had an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for where I am in relation to where I've been.  After a decade long battle with an eating disorder, I was supposed to be just another statistic.   I was supposed to be another victim who lost all meaning and purpose in life.  However, I was told last week by a treatment provider that I "beat the odds."  I am now a face of survival and hope and recovery in a world with such disheartening views and prognoses of eating disorders.  Courage, strength, and perseverance were heralded to my name.  Yet, I can only see these attributes in those who could have so easily given up on me and given in to my disorder.

Tonight my mindset changed drastically as I drove home.  The comfort of negative self-talk crept back in to my mind.  I drove almost half way from Warrenton to my home in Fairfax before I realized what I was doing to myself.  It's so much easier to give in to the negativity the world bombards us with than to fight it all.  Hadn't I just been reminded that I have proven I have  the ability to overcome such maladaptive habits?

I've been thinking a lot over the past few weeks of an experience I had recently.  I had been called into dance early to provide the Artistic Director of the studio with music for her class.  As she plugged in my iPhone to the stereo, the last song I had listened to blasted from the speakers.  It's a ridiculous song, one that I love to dance to while I get ready in the morning.  The class of 10 or so little ballerinas quickly exchanged their proper posture and pristine 5th positions for hip-hop dance moves at the first note of the song.  What's to learn from this experience?  Don't take yourself so seriously that you miss out on the oft-times imperfect yet exhilarating chances life throws you.

As I drove the rest of the way home I realized that it's okay to have an upsetting moment or even a horrendous day.  Just don't take it so seriously!  Enjoy the next random event that is given to lift your spirits and your smile.  :)

Sometimes It's All So Surreal

Progression.  It's something we all think we want.  It seems so fine and dandy before we have to actually go through the process of growing.  I know I've felt those "growing pains" of changing into something new and better.  Hey, it's tough work!   In the end, progression has turned into something we realize we've wanted all along.  

I've written so much on my own personal progression and now I want to dally in the progression of those who have helped me progress.

Once in a while you develop a friendship with someone who you feel you've known before this life began.  Mayra is one of those.  We met at the young age of 18 as we both entered our freshman year at Brigham Young University-Provo.  We lived a few doors down from each other.  From that first orientation day when I couldn't figure out how the spelling of "Mayra" could sound like "Mida," to being her Maid of Honor in what couldn't have been a more beautiful day, and then to bawling my eyes out in pure joy after the news that she is now going to be a mother (to a precious little girl at that!) we have grown so much.  I have never met a more mature, gracious, classy young woman.  Sometimes it's all so surreal.  Surreal in the sense that her dream is finally coming true.  Just a handful of months left!

Reflecting on the impact friends' progressions have had on me would not be complete without mentioning Jenn.  Jenn has always been a support.  Not only emotionally, but mentally.  She always finds a way to add a whole new dimension of humor to my day.  There are some things that seem impossible, insurmountable.  But for Jenn, there are no brick walls.  She has found her way through every challenge.

One day I hope I can have the effect on someone that so many have had on me.  One day I hope I can have attributes others admire.  I hope I can say to others, "You too can do this."  Someday.  And somedays this process of progression all seems so surreal.  

Teach Me Somewhere

How grateful am I for inspiring friends and righteous influences in my life!  I look back at the past year, or even 6 months, and am in awe of how far I've come.  It has not been on my merits alone, but on those who have born my burdens, who have lifted me, and who have been examples and inspirations in my life.

I love the hymn, "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing."  During a listen this morning, I heard the phrase, "Teach me somewhere."  Now, I must admit that I am not gifted at understanding people when they sing.  What I heard was, as usual, not what the lyrics read.  What is really written is "Teach me some melodious sonnet."  But, "Teach me somewhere" struck a chord with me so I will continue my post on that phrase.  Throughout the past week, my emotions have been near the surface and my heart has been full.  I was faced with a rather unexpected and difficult circumstance for which I was greatly unprepared.  How often do we ask to be taught in life, expecting it to be appreciated on all levels and for it to be a blessing and not a trial?  Some know, or have surmised, that I have struggled with an eating disorder and depression for a large part of my life.  I have always yearned to be taught and yet I would never have considered those trials to be the Lord's answer to my plea, "Teach me somewhere, Lord."  Now, over a decade later, I see it.  I see that I had to struggle with something so fatal and so devastating.  Of all the things I have learned about myself, my limits, my weaknesses, my interactions with others, and such, I want to share this one, most important lesson:

God has a plan for us.  

I know in His infinite wisdom, He knew I could overcome and manage my struggles, with the help of heaven.  I can see things coming together now, clearer than ever before.  I know my Heavenly Father loves me and has trusted me with these experiences for in His omnipotence and omniscience.  

Come, Thou Fount