Showing posts from August, 2011
Our perceptions do not accurately reflect reality. If we saw what was really in the mirror we would see ourselves as much more beautiful, capable, and strong. My hope is to reflect vague pieces of truth about ourselves, our experiences, and the people we love. These thoughts will be reflected without mirrors so the true beauty of life can confidently stare back at us through the haze.

Seven Days

One more week of my life is over. This week doesn’t feel like it ended. It was a beginning. Seven days of meaningful interactions. Seven days full of beginnings.
Anything that we consider beautiful is rare. Each of my interactions was unique to the day, the time, the people, and the place. Each happened the perfect amount of times, once. If I were to try and relive any of these experiences they would start to lose value. They would lose their beauty. As a disclaimer, these summaries don’t capture the beauty of each experience. The beauty is in the details of each moment that I was able to spend with these different people. Memories are inaccurate but I’ll try and keep my recollections as real as possible. The lessons I learned hold true regardless of the accuracy of my memory. 
This week started with the appearance of Anna and JoAnna in our ward on Sunday. A mother and daughter from Virginia who spent two days here. The week started with Americans befriending Americans on a small island…

Pointless Ramble

It’s late, I’m still awake. I should be tired but my eyes won’t close. Is sleepy an emotion? When I feel other emotions, sleepy can’t get to me. Sleepy is weak. Love, nostalgia, sorrow, and joy (among others) are strong. I hold still and try to pull up a black screen. I can’t lose reception with the possible. Re-runs are running on all the other channels. My brain can’t shut down. 
It’s not a bad thing. Usually it’s a good thing to stay up just feeling. God speaks through emotions. 
I was wondering why I haven’t written lately. My inspiration was clouded by a busy mind. Worthwhile things, but busy nonetheless. I miss you keyboard. I miss you bright screen. I miss the spacebar under my thumb. I miss my thoughts coming out in sentences. Thoughts start to make sense with the quiet click of my keyboard. Unfortunately I have to hide a lot. Thoughts are very different in writing, they hide themselves.
I’m afraid that my writing is for me and not for you. But if you are one of the three people …