A coveted pearl
made inside an oyster on
the ocean floor
Moth country
The other night I turned off the light and waited for sleep to find me. While the Sandman ran a little late getting to my bedroom I heard flip, flip, flippity-flip, flip, flippity-flip. Great, another moth. Since I heard the little annoyer as I tried drifting off to sleep my mind played out some weird scenarios. I won’t go into detail but one involved the moth landing in my mouth after I fell asleep. That woke me up and I turned on the light.
Young Women Camp 2013
This is normally the post I use to describe my week at Young Women camp. I describe the lessons I learned, the problems I encountered, and my goal to be a better leader.
Yes, it was a good week. Yes, there were problems encountered but they worked out. The problems always work themselves out. And yes, there is always room for improvement.
We had a moose wander into camp. Actually, he probably was hovering around our camp all week but we just saw him once. Well, once in daylight and once at night. They are kind of creepy when you come across them at night and all you can see is their eyes reflecting in the moonlight.
For this post, I want to focus on one lesson I learned this past week. It happened Wednesday during the hike. Between my asthma and vertigo my goal was to not collapse or lose my balance and fall. And I managed to succeed at both. Yay me!
I didn’t even fall during the off-road stretch where I really had to pay attention to each step I took. Proud to say, I stumbled but I never went down.
We were just finishing the off-road, cross-country portion of the hike and had to descend the little hill. Flags marked our path we needed to follow. Since I was so slow I watched others hike down the hill following the marked path. Two leaders stood at the bottom to help the hikers make it to the road. But from where I stood, I thought I could see an easier route.
Despite the flags and the other hikers’ success, I decided to veer to the right.
The vigilant leaders who waited at the bottom called to me and urged me to follow the marked route. I listened.
When I approached them they helped me down a one-foot drop to get to the road. “Oh, geez,” I complained. “That’s a bit of a drop.” One just nodded her head in agreement.
I joined the other hikers and waited for everyone to catch up. While I did so, I looked down the road. If I had continued on my easier route on top of the hill I would have come to a five to six-foot drop to the road. With no help to get down.
Isn’t that like life? We have markers and flags showing us the route. We also have others going before us leading the way. And there are those waiting to help us through our tough times. Yet, we may think we see an easier way – a better route.
We don’t always have the full picture from where we stand. We don’t need to. There are plenty of gifts to help us to succeed. We are meant to win – not to lose.
And let me tell you, I’m very glad I listened that day. I hope I listen just as well in life.
Surviving the day
Anyway
I think you’re bossy
when you have to have the last say
and sometimes you don’t listen
but I love you anyway –
yeah, I love you anyway.
Accidental poet
I have been writing ever since I can remember. Almost every job I’ve had I have found a way to jot thoughts down. Whether on a napkin while at the theater, or the back of receipts at K-Mart, or post-it notes – there is always a little scrap of paper for me to doodle my thoughts. My bedroom is a cluttered mess of all my little notes. I don’t keep them because I think I’m brilliant (well, maybe a little), I keep them because they are a little piece of me. So, I’ve been writing a very long time.
I wrote a lot of poems. At least, that’s what I call them. Poetry about people, jobs, awkward situations, funny thoughts – you name it, I wrote about it. About ten or so years ago I realized something. I am not a poet. My writing seemed trite. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t improve. I felt I had peaked and so I stopped writing. Poetry anyway. I could never stop writing completely. That would be like holding steam inside a kettle with no outlet.
A couple of years ago, my friend told me about the blog she writes. I had never followed any blogs at that point. But it sounded like fun and an outlet for my writing. I didn’t expect much (but there’s always that small hope of being an internet sensation).
I started with prose because that’s what I like to write. One night, I suffered a case of writer’s block. I wanted to post something but the well was dry. So, I turned to a poem compilation I had given my mom of my old poems. I remember I felt embarrassed for publishing a poem and I didn’t expect much. Actually, that’s not true. I expected someone with a Poetry PhD to call me on it. “Poet fake!” I expected to read in the comments.
What happened instead surprised me. I received my first subscriber and received a compliment. But I shrugged it off.
But that did give me the courage to try another poem a few nights later. I received a few likes.
How odd.
After a few poems later, I decided to attempt two poems a week. One poem to release the serious side of me and the other, well, a little more me.
Every time I publish a poem I am surprised at the reaction. Since I don’t know the future of my blog or how long I’ll keep it up, I decided to protect my poetry. That’s why I decided to compile them and let the fine and willing folks at Amazon help me out.
That’s how a girl who describes herself as a non-poet ended up with two poetry books. Go figure!
That girl in the mirror
Do you keep a crystal ball in your purse?
I had just started a new job in a new city. For the most part, I was a quiet little mouse in my corner trying to adjust to my new personal and professional environment. One of my new coworkers approached me and introduced herself. We shook hands and she said slowly, “Oh my, you’re going to be famous one day.”
Uh, what?
Gone Campin’
Tomorrow I’m headed to the Uinta Mountains. I will be there until Friday and will come home, exhausted, sun-burned, bug-bit, stinky, and did I mention exhausted?
It’s our annual Girls’ Camp for our stake. Two hundred-some girls plus leaders head to the mountains. We hike, do crafts, listen to inspirational speakers and in every instance provide a place conducive to the Spirit. If done correctly, it can be a game changer. A bolster of confidence.
Years ago I went to Girls’ Camp as a young woman (on a side note, to the same camp I’m going to tomorrow as a leader). I belonged to the category “loner” with no friends. But during camp, that all changed. I forged some very dear friendships that helped me through some very tough times.
Going as a leader has given me a new perspective on this week long adventure. I never realized that for a leader, this is almost a year-long planning process. I think the campers would be surprised at how many prayers are said in their behalf.
However, nobody is forced to participate or even have a good time. That depends solely on the camper. If the girl comes with an open heart she will feel things she may have never felt before. She will even be sad at the end of the week to have to return home.
And when that is at stake, who would mind spending a week up in the mountains? Not me.
So, please stop by my blog this week and feel free to comment. I won’t be able to check on my stats until I return next weekend though. Perhaps there will be a tell-all sometime in the future. Maybe even a picture or two? Eh. We’ll see.
