There I Was

Vacuuming my ceiling wondering ... “what is going on?” (Brian Regan) ... “how do people live like this?” (Mallory), seeing the hairs, sand, spiders and cockroaches zoom up my vacuum like I was the queen of their galaxy; I never thought I’d see the day when I would so purposefully smash a cockroach with my bare palm. There I was on my naked knees kneeling on that sticky tile and itchy carpet, mixing various mostly-empty bottles of cleaners and tilting the vacuum in new ways to avoid deepened blisters as I attempted to achieve even a sub-fraction of the word “clean;” there I was, knowing what Will would say, humming sporadic “Dusty Road” lines and hearing the waves hit that volcanic ashen wall outside my apartment-home in between her breaths. There I was walking through those outdoor hallways, or finding myself in unbelievably, wonderfully ridiculous tropical storms, breathless for one reason or another. There I was standing near the milk debating debating debating about the nine dollar price tag; love you, Ma, thanks for the sound advice. There I was hiking through mud and brush up an eight mile-long trail, waiting for Jack and Hurley and Kate to burst through the foliage and surprise me on my way to carry out Number Eight on My Bucket List. There I was in that freshwater pool, after hitting my legs on those rocks, feeling grateful and happy and cold as the sun hid, because it didn’t matter—I finally crossed my dream of swimming in a waterfall pool off The List. There I was photo machen-ing that sunset, eating a Mahi Mahi sandwich and choco manula pie or something as I FROZE [I have been colder here in Hawaii than I have in all my days in Utah. What a joke.]. There I was sitting beneath those stars, watching the clouds travel across at light-speed [what is it? I should know this, bad Physical Science Student, Tawny: 3 x 10⁸ ?], night-day-dreaming of my remarkable friend in Brasil, again, hearing the ocean in my backyard.  There I was.

Here I am.

I keep reminding myself: You are in Hawaii.

It hasn’t sunk in. I don’t think it will. But I am loving living and breathing in such a stunning place. Blessed.

Here are a bunch of wildly overdue photos.

Laie temple! 

are you seeing that spider? dkjafs

truly. the vista from my deck.

clean clean apartment.

third time cleaning the kitchen floor.

i do love large foliage

daytrip to honolulu

love ya, kels

happy birthday johnny

swivel swivel swivel

my brain twirls and pivots as of late.

its as if it doesn't know exactly where it revolves from. it's just everywhere. "like a liquid."

and i love it! the sensation of feeling like i'm going to explode, self-destruct, or let out a mixed reaction of a scream/yelp/laugh (a scraulp?) are among the most prevalent symptoms of this brain swiveling motion. just thinking of my current state makes me giggle.

school is ending. swivel.

finals. swivel.

packing. swivel.

NO BLENDER. swivel!

havasu reservations. swivel.

peter week? swivel swivel!

LP. swivel and soar.

duplex. swiiiiiiiv!

jerus. swivel bam bam.

ha, who doesn't love the feeling? it's an adventure, and as g.bitner said, "the trick is to thank Him for the ride." :) 

what a blessed weekend we had, no? goodness. the church is true. hands down. don't you love trying to summarize what you felt about conference weekend? there are no words! and "it was... so great" doesn't cut it justice. each speaker was truly inspired and inspirING. this mosdef gave us each motivation to redouble our efforts in whichever stage of life we may be in, no? i love that easily inserted spanish inquiry. no? ha. 

i did find it hard to believe that six months ago i was sitting in a tiny meetinghouse at six pm watching the sunday morning session. what a blessssssssssssssssssing that time was! i love you, all my dear wien friends! there is no herz mehr full of liiiiiieb for dich than mine! six months plus plus has come and gone but the memory lives on on onnnn!

on a random note, this past sunday we watched a quick slideshow where my great grandpa was reading a story that my mom and her sibs grew up hearing from their gramma norma. it was olden style: with the bell sound in between each slide that literally made us cringe, the stationary pictures for over a minute sometimes, the voice recording... all recently put to a dvd. what a priceless thing. for sure, it was outdated, but so incredibly tender for my grandma to hear her father, and my mom, aunt, and uncles to hear their grandpa, and then reflect on beautiful times past. not only that, but i was able pause and let it sink in how neat it was for me to hear the voice of my great-grandfa. i'm learning more and more to recognize what is important to others and why. in seeing this, i am able to differentiate things of true consequence, and forge through my natural thoughts and urges. though i have a long way to go, this is such a help in providing me opportunities to see outside of my selfish self. 

we have different interests for a reason; thus, the world spins on. i am thankful for the eternal nature of the family, and the plausibility I am afforded to feel these sacred bonds and ties through varying generations. i love the Lord, and am beyond grateful for family, this the most basic unit of society.

 

happy day, all.