The Power to Choose is Mine

I am on a deliberate journey. I used to live in this shell, and would just wait for the rain for to fall so that when it did, and landed on my shell and not me, I could feel like I had some control over the bad things in life. I prepared for them, focused on them, as a method of perceived damage control. I didn't realize that what you focus on truly grows. I was creating my own havoc; my own misery. The most depressing part about living this kind of life, was that I was actually okay with things. Not in a healthy "find happiness amid crap" kind of way; rather an "ignorance is bliss" kind of way. I had no idea that my dreamless, sedentary mind, body, and spirit were collectively on a downward spiral. I was feeding neither of them properly. Sure, I went to church, I even had a testimony and taught Gospel Doctrine well; had a relationship with my Savior for the most part. Sure, I exercised and kept my fast food and fatty foods to a minimum. I fed my mind zero. Keeping up with the Kardashians and Vampire Diaries was the extent of what my brain was eating. I was living a bare minimum life, expecting a luxurious ending through my husband and his schooling. I had the kids, and selfishly, thought that was my part of this all. How great a thing to have children, but how little a purpose that left for the rest of me. I teach Hallie she can do anything, and that I wanted her to have dreams, and realized that I had no idea how to dream. Practicality was the name of the game, and anything above that was unsafe, foolish, and an inevitable demise. All this... Until July 22, 2013.

I attended a Power of Choice seminar at the request of my colleague in doTERRA, Ginger Lancaster. Colby and I attended with complete trust, and with an open mind and heart. Our results were huge. HUGE!!! Colby was preparing to go on a study abroad to Amman, Jordan for four months leaving me and the children at home. This had to be done in order for him to graduate. It had to. I knew the storm was coming and had no way to prepare for it. I didn't know how to make a shell that big!!! Power of Choice taught me tools to handle such things. I could choose to be miserable with the things i could not change, or love them. And if i can't love them, which I certainly did not, then accept them. Colby being gone was the cruelest time. It was difficult. But it was EMPOWERING!! I had DONE it!!! Not only that, but I raised 3500 dollars to go SEE him in Jordan and Israel!! I flew all by myself to another COUNTRY!! It was when we landed back home with our kids that I realized

I AM A LION OF A MOTHER, AND I CAN DO HARD THINGS!!

This was so monumental to me at the time and now. The trip to the Middle East changed my entire course of action. Going through POC the first time last July taught me when I removed my need to be in control and all the fear that came with that, that I wanted exactly what Colby's dreams had been all along; to travel and help people. Travel, and actually make a difference in people's lives. The critic in me immediately just piped up with, "how arrogant. you're so much better than everyone else and think that they need YOU?" yes, critic, they do. Turns out i'm a D.O.G. who can B.A.R.K.

I am a Daughter of God: Bold, Authentic, Radiant, and Kind.

I am literally inherently blessed with all I need to be successful, to be authentically loving to people around me, to be "a light to those in the dark" as God expressly told me. A city on a hill cannot be hid afterall. God is so good. As soon as i discovered all of this, and committed to making my now dreams a reality, God began to move as well. Putting people on my path that I will be with for life, and providing means for me to share essential oils when I otherwise would not have the opportunity.

I. Can. Choose.

And I choose to be helpful, kind, supportive, and successful. I choose to help my family eliminate debt, retirement plans, college funds, and fun! To provide a more financially free life with time freedom!!! Once my family's needs are met, I desire to create an organization for mothers and children in the Middle East... such kind, helpless refugee's... with nowhere to go... nothing to eat, and holy clothes to wear when it's so cold out... My heart has expanded for the Arabs... i fought Colby so hard because of fear... And love is SO much more powerful!!!! It is so much more compelling, propelling, and simply powerful! My faith has increased, my testimony is on solid ground, my mind is being sharpened with daily tools of reading, studying, and my body is being strengthened through oils, exercise, and God himself. My spirit...is being edified daily. My demeanor is more positive and I persevere instead of quit. My heart is full. My heart is growing like the waves of the sea.

And now I'm onto Power 90. Conquering a huge 90 day goal. Wish me luck, though i won't need it because I have everything I need to do this. I just have to see what's already within me, and use it with a little imagination.

I am the Creator and Conqueror of all my Conquests.

She's Just Going Through a Phase

A new baby's coming, so, naturally, she's going to paint on her floor, spill everything she can, throw expensive products down the toilet, backtalk, hate me. I tell myself she's just adjusting. Truth is, she's just being a kid. What's my excuse? I'm the one not adapting, and terrified at being a new mother again. I let myself feel alone, but in all actuality am alone most of the time. That's all.

Corner Post

There are things you cannot achieve, cannot learn, cannot fathom until you're pushed into a corner to do so and stripped of everything you believe constitutes you. I find this annoying, mostly because I can only learn these things by suppressing how to instinctively feel: bitter, angry, jealous, harrowed, and all other ugly attributes. Asking me not to feel these things is asking me not to feel anything. As if pushing, bypassing these feelings makes room for happy feelings. It doesn't. It leaves me numb, and feeling nothing. Training myself to feel nothing when the alternative is to feel ugly. "Teach yourself to feel the good feelings when someone slaps you". I realize Jesus can do this; I cannot. Moreover, I resent being asked to if i'm being honest. I keep blaming my life. Life. This in-adamant creature who torments me because he gets a thrill out of it. I know better than to blame God, so I make up another unstoppable force to lay all my blame on. I take none of it for myself because I feel I have no control over everything that keeps slaughtering  me. This "attitude" will sabotage my relationships, deteriorate my hope, and dissipate any faith I may have gathered. Knowing this, grasping this, I still cannot let it go that easily. Nobody cares because nobody feels, or see's. They have their own, of which I do not know or see. So cruel. So empty, and void of all empathy. Quiet, and lonely. These are my feelings, and things I can't ignore.

All I see in a lollipop is diabetes.

Joy to You, Baby

Two days until the end of the world. I've got 48 hours left. I feel like Keifer Sutherland all of a sudden. Were the world to truly end in two days, would you be relieved? Would you gather your things and burn them all in a big pile to say you beat things to the punch? Stand in front of a mirror and feign to be mostly OK with who's staring back at you? Would you serve? Start checking off that imagined bucket list you never wrote down? When you're holding the ones you love, would you tell jokes, or replay memories that make you weep? Could you find solace in your family's conglomerate ascension into heavenly realms? What would you tell your kids, your spouse, your mother...? Would you charge your iphone, or check your facebook?

I would find reprieve, but not call it relief. I would gather all my things and review them; allow whatever emotion tied to each thing, note, picture well-up and give me one more good run. I would bypass the mirror to look out the window. Had I impressed my reflection sufficiently, it would appear in the world around me. I would help where, whom I could. Keep those around me comfortable with love and warmth. With two short days, only one item would be on my bucket list and it would be to soak up as much time with my loved-ones as I can. I would remind my children of Heavenly Father and his son Jesus Christ, and that we'll be seeing them soon. I would tell them they made me. I would tell my husband that my life before him was about as useful as a rose in the shade; I'm so much more In Bloom when he shines with me. I would tell my mother she's the rock in the river that stops the flow and commands the river to flow around it, and what that example held for me.

Here's to the next 48.

Saturday Morning Vinyl

It's Christmas time. It's an instinctual part of our generation to want to go out and buy things to demonstrate our affection and feel fulfilled somehow. These aren't bad things. Well, only if you don't have the means and wish it so. I've been struggling with this a little, and will most likely revisit the fight again, but right now listening to The Creek that Drank the Cradle by Iron & Wine on vinyl with my beautiful family is more than sufficient. My cup feels full.

I'm perplexed at how life can be such a struggle, but when you hear a lyric that says, "Mother, do you remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?" you can be completely turned inside out and for a brief moment see things how they really are. Struggle or not, that's what's real. That's what's beautiful. Hardships do not eliminate the beauty of everything, or everyone. It enhances it. They coincide, and hopefully, collide often enough that we fail to categorize them. Beauty over here, Hard over there. Let them bleed together.

Sitting Next to Stahlin

Me: Oh, good evening Mr...Stahlin.
Stahlin: Shut up, I hate you.
Me: May I inquire as to why? I've just barely met you.
Stahlin: I hate the way you face sits on your head. I wish to remove it, and plant it on a canvas somewhere so a starving artist can make good use of it; or eat it.
Me: Glad to hear you support the Arts, but I didn't ask that you sit next to me.
Stahlin: No, perhaps not. How did you get this seat with that face?
Me: I guess even a bad face can have enough money. Do you hate all people because of their faces?
Stahlin: No. Just yours. And my mother's.
Me: I see. Do you like your-
Stahlin: If you continue to speak with me, I must insist on your demise.
Me: I don't believe you like your face either.

I then died.

This was roughly, and dramatically, my circumstances this morning driving back from Hooper. Perhaps not Stahlin, but had Stahlin and Freud made a love child, then him. Sitting next to that guy. That's all.

Forever in a Potato Sack

I like Neil Diamond. I'm not at all jaded at the irony of him composing a song inspired by his poverty and making millions off it; I'm not. Furthermore, I'm not going to discuss my non-jaded feelings about it. Mostly because I just did.

Colby and I were driving home from my family's house a few days ago, and Diamonds, "Forever in Blue Jeans" came on. We've been struggling financially since Reality combined with Freak Circumstances smacked the smiles right off our faces. I trust Colby, he trusts me, and we trust the Lord. Trust, unfortunately, does not directly generate funds. Colby was sitting next to me in the car reading some homework on the laptop, Hallie was on her "D-Pad", and I was listening to the zune on shuffle. I normally skip Neil Diamond songs because, typically, I'm not in a Diamond kind of mood. I think there's only one person who's perpetually in a Diamond mind set, and I call him Dad. I let the blue jean song play, and realized how right Neil is.
"Money talks, but it can't sing... or dance... and it don't walk."
Yes! Money runs its figurative mouth all day long, all night long, all of our lives long. Its always expanding and retracting, flourishing and failing, and will NOT shut up about it. It's what we hear everyday from our economy, our boss, our absence of a boss, our colleagues, our checking account, insurance, and grocery stores. But, this money is stationary. It's immovable in its power. It's appeal ends with what it can or cannot get you. It can't walk with you like your companion, your child, your friend. It won't sing with you-even in the good times-and it certainly won't dance the night away with you. So what am I going to do without it? I'm going to dance, sing, and walk through this life with the people I love. The rest is stupid and I'll take care of it as it arises. For now, I'm fine with living in a potato sack.