Snow Boots and Socks

Today I was vividly reminded of a day when I was back in grade two.  I believe this is called deja vu.

Anyways, on this specific day in grade two, the playground was absolutely shrouded in snow.  It was white everywhere.  So obviously, I wore snow boots to school that day.  

What I specifically recall is a brief moment during recess of that day.  While out running around in the snow with my little buddies it seemed like I was the ONLY kid on the playground who had to stop and fix my socks.  After taking what seemed like only five steps, the backs of my snow boots would have pulled my socks half off my feet.  So I'd have to stop, delicately pull my foot out of the boot while clinging to the sock with my toes, pull the sock back on and shove my foot back into the boot.  Take another five steps and repeat.

This really frustrated me.  I watched everyone else having the time of their lives in this magnificent new snow and there I was, the kid with the crappy socks that kept falling down.  I wished that my mom was savvy enough to buy me the magic socks that stayed up that everyone else was so obviously wearing.  It just wasn't fair.  I couldn't have fun until I had socks that would stay up.

Finally my buddy Grant Gilson ran past me and asked why I had stopped playing.  I dramatically explained that my socks kept falling off so I couldn't.  Without really missing a beat, Grant said, "So are mine," and took off to keep enjoying his brief break from school in the snow.

And so it was, today while running through the freshly fallen snow on my way to catch a ride, my snow boots pulled my socks half off.  And I didn't stop running.  And since I'm an over thinker, I managed to teach myself a lesson -- or rather, put a lesson I learned back in grade two into words.

Just because your socks are falling off doesn't mean you have to stop or can't let yourself enjoy the snow.  Socks are just one of those silly distractions you rationalize into becoming an insurmountable obstacle.

Permission to Play

Last night I finished scanning all the pictures and documents from my Grandma Wendorff's Book of Remembrance.  While scanning all the track meet newspaper clippings, ribbons and photos of my athletic grandmother, I found this tucked neatly inside the pages:

My jaw dropped.  It really shouldn't have been that surprising since I am studying Sport & Recreation and have taken classes on sport history.  But to see that my own Grandma had to receive permission from her physician to "partake in sports" kind of hit close to home.

To be honest, I've been pretty ignorant of how lucky I am to have been born when I was.  In reality, the opportunities I have had athletically really haven't been around for as long as I assume.  Katherine Switzer, one of the first women to run the Boston Marathon, did so in 1967 (the organizer of the race tried to physically remove her while she was running).  That happened in my mother's lifetime!  Title IX (equality in federally funded programs, ie. athletic programs at American universities) wasn't implemented until 1972.  As a child I loved to listen to my mom's stories about the track meets she competed in and the races she won, but in reality, her childhood athletics was different from mine, simply due to the times we were born.  Unreal!

I'm grateful I was born when I was and I had the childhood I did.  Although I often wish I was born decades, perhaps even a century, earlier, this is certainly one thing that would not have been the same.  And I definitely would have never played peewee football….

Presenteeism

Sometimes I come across new words that I like to skew the definition of, just so it applies to my life a little bit better.  Lately, the word has been "presenteeism."

The real definition of this word applies to the workforce.  It is pretty well the opposite of the word "absenteeism" - where a person does not come to work, due to things such as illness, family problems, etc.  "Presenteeism" is where a person does come to work, but accomplishes very little due to the same things (illness, family problems, etc) or due to lack of job satisfaction, stress, and so on.

And so you have it.  You learned a new word today.  But now for the Kristen life application definition.

For me, "presenteeism" is a lot like being headless.

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It's when only your body is present.  As for the whereabouts of your head, well, it could be almost anywhere else.  For example,

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You could be guilty of "presenteeism" during those precious moments you have together with your significant other.  Your bodies could be close enough to touch, but your heads could be off somewhere far away with your cell phones or whatever.

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You could be guilty of "presenteeism" while out your body enjoys a stroll outdoors or simple takes some time to be outside.  As for your head, it could be off running in circles fretting about what you need to do next, what you're going to cook for dinner, what needs to be cleaned, who you need to call, and so on.

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You could be guilty of "presenteeism" while your body is out catching up with friends.  Meanwhile, your head is busy thinking of that "special someone" you'd rather be hanging out with, or that game of Candy Crush you can't wait to play later.

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You could be guilty of "presenteeism" while your body is busy taking care of your own children.  Rather than joining in, your head is off quickly checking Instagram or Twitter or Facebook.

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You could be guilty of "presenteeism" while your body is soaking in a few solitary moments of relaxation.  Instead of relaxing and using those precious moments for self-reflection, meditation, study, or so on, your head is still busy going 100 mph, caught up in the race of the world.

And so there you have it.  Since starting to think this way I find myself questioning the where a bouts of my head a lot more often.  If it's not in the same place as my body, I like to reel it back in.  But it's a lot easier said than done.  However, I'm confident that if "presenteeism" is a bad thing in the workplace, it's a bad thing to suffer from in your personal life as well.

Oh Sweet Innocence

I decided I can no longer deny or hide the fact that I actually really like kids.  There's just something so refreshing about hanging out with such little bursts of energy and innocence.  Oh sweet innocence.

Shots and editing inspired by .to the river.  (Except an abandoned homestead is my leaning Tower of Pisa)

Long Live the Country

I know I'll be ready to marry a boy if I love him more than the country.

I can still vividly remember the day and place when that thought first crossed my mind.  I was riding my bike across the prairies towards Waterton National Parks, looking out over the magnificent expanse of flat lands to rolling hills to mountains.

Nowadays I have the best of both worlds: a boy who puts up with my love of the country, even if it means skipping his family's Thanksgiving dinner to catch a horse ride with my Dad on the Ridge.

Long live the country.

Bearing One Another's Burdens

Have you ever had the feeling that there is this small, flickering ember within your mind?  Just this small spark of an idea that has the potential to burst into flames of knowledge and understanding at any given moment, if only you could feed it the fuel it needs?  It happened to me.  Just last night.  And now my mind is on fire.

This ember didn't combust all at once.  In fact, it has taken over a year to fuel it with the kindling and fuel necessary for it to take flame.  And I'm convinced it couldn't have happened without each of the small and seemingly meaningless experiences that led me to it.  

So what has set my mind in flames?  Simply put - what it means to bear one another's burdens.

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If you've been following this blog for the past year, you're probably no stranger to the fact that I have depression (but I no longer suffer from it).  At this point in my life, I can honestly say that depression has been one of the greatest blessings I've encountered.  Because of my depression I have gained a new perspective into the silent and unseen trials of others.  What I used to see as an excuse for a bad attitude, I now understand as being an extremely difficult illness to pass through.  

Depression has replaced my callous cynicism with compassion.  And without compassion, I wouldn't have come to understand what it means to bear one another's burdens.

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Last summer I came across the strangely fascinating tale of a homosexual Mormon man who had chosen to marry a heterosexual woman and raise a family.  Josh Weed's story intrigued me and lead me to read more of what he had to say about being a now openly gay man in a church that teaches the importance of marriages between a man and woman.

On a certain weekend last November I happened to read his post titled "Lessons in Unconditional Love," and was quite moved by what he said in regards to simply loving the people we come across - regardless of their sexual orientation, their religion, their opinions, and so on.

As fate would have it, the same day I read that article I was scheduled to work in the evening, lifeguarding a rental called "Trans Swim."  The pool had been booked specifically for people who identified as transgender, transvestite, transsexual, and so on.  Having been raised in an incredibly conservative, small Mormon town, I was a little unsure, to say the least.  So I decided to go to work with the attitude of simply loving these people I was so unfamiliar with.

Guarding this small group of people ended up being a really great experience.  They were so grateful to be given the opportunity to go swimming in a place free from the scoffs, scorns, and stares they were so accustomed to.  Many told my co-worker and I that this was the first time they had been swimming in years and years and they were so excited.  And all I needed to do was love them - well, and guard them as they swam.

Reading that article and guarding that swim has opened my eyes to something I like to call the Pomegranate analogy.  I don't have to eat or even love the layers and layers of skin and peel that hide the delicious red fruit of the pomegranate, just like I don't have to agree with or like the way that a person chooses to live their life.  But when you peel all of that away, there is a person, a human being just like yourself, that you can love regardless.

And without learning what it means to love someone unconditionally, I wouldn't have come to understand what it means to bear one another's burdens.

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In January I had a pregnancy end unexpectedly.  Since I had been blogging about my struggle with depression, I figured this was another experience I could share and potentially help others with.  Unfortunately, an innocent mistake on my part turned my blog into something similar to a YouTube comments section.  Anonymous commenters left stinging words that made me cry and broke my heart.  I had acted in the only way I thought possible in my situation and used the words which I thought were correct, only to be sharply rebuked and harshly scolded.

Being bullied for innocently sharing my story has allowed me to feel the hurt that comes from the ignorant comments of people who intend to emotionally maim and spread contention.  And without learning what it feels like to be cast out for my words and actions, I wouldn't have come to understand what it means to bear one another's burdens.

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Last night I read what Ordain Women founder Kate Kelly had to say after being turned away from entering the General Conference Priesthood Session on Saturday.  Although I do not support this movement, in fact, it terrifies me, I couldn't help but feel a powerful sympathy for her and all the supporters of the Ordain Women movement.  In her article, Kelly says:

"Some who walked with us doubted the church's potential to respond to us in a positive way and include us in the meeting.

"But in that moment at the door, facing that man, I realized I did not.  I had no doubt in my mind that we would be let it.  I walked to the Tabernacle filled with hope, faith and (perhaps delusional) optimism.  I truly thought if they could see our sincerity and our tears and our pain, in person, they would respond to our faithful pleas with equal measures of love.

"In a conversation after being turned away, church spokeswoman Ruth Todd said to me, somewhat incredulously, "You didn't really think you would get in, did you?"  I said to her, "In all sincerity, I did."

I've been there.  I've felt the delusional optimism she spoke of that tears at your heart when it fails to come true.  I was thirteen and it was Christmas.  I had asked for a dirt bike and when I saw that teeny wrapped box under the tree with my name on it, I was convinced to the point of delusional optimism that it was holding the keys to my new dirt bike.  I can still remember how my heart fell when I opened it up and beheld nothing more than a set of earrings.  And I was only thirteen.  I can't imagine how much it must hurt to be let down from such delusional optimism as an adult.

What makes this let down so much the worse are the people who have taken it upon themselves to poke fun and shout "I told you so!" to heart broken strangers from their imaginary pedestal of a social media account.  Although my prayers were answered and my testimony was strengthened yesterday, it doesn't mean that I have the right or responsibility to push away or bully the people who didn't get the answer they were looking for.  It's times like these where the baptismal covenant of "bearing one another's burdens" should be adhered to in double time.

Without feeling this strong sense of empathy, I wouldn't have come to understand what it means to bear one another's burdens.

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Bearing one another's burdens is so much more than just making a lasagna for the young couple that just had a baby.  It's more than helping an old woman carry her groceries to her car.  It's more than helping out someone who is struggling financially.  It's more than giving hours of service to helping clean up a natural disaster like a flood.

Bearing one another's burdens requires us to realize that burdens can be unseen and hard to understand.

Bearing one another's burdens requires us to love unconditionally, peeling back all of the layers of a person that we may not agree with until we get to the core, beloved son or daughter of our Heavenly Father.

Bearing one another's burdens requires us to understand what it would feel like to be rejected or cast out, so that we can refrain from making someone feel this way.

Bearing one another's burdens requires us to feel empathy and compassion for those who are in pain, even in pain over something we do not understand.

I realize that this is a skill that will take me a lifetime to perfect, but it's also a goal that I covenant to each and every week that I partake of the sacrament on Sunday.  

May each of us realize how important this simple phrase is and set out to more fully bear one another's burdens.

On Failing a Personality Test

I had to take a personality test for one of my classes this semester.  Before the teacher handed back our results, she went through each of the opposing categories and had us guess where we may have placed.  Long story short, I failed my personality test.  Or rather, I guessed only one out of four correctly.  It seems the only thing I know for sure about myself is that I'm an introvert.  Other than that, it's really just a shot in the dark.

Which has left me thinking.  Is personality really even something that can be tested?  It seems like my personality and preferences are in a constant state of flux and change between two opposing people:  the Kristen I grew up being and the Kristen I grew up to be, or am currently.

I know for a fact the Kristen I grew up being was extremely serious, driven by routine, probably seemed cold or detached, depended on organization, had little need for relationships, overly prudish, and so on.  And this was the Kristen I placed myself as before receiving the results.

As for the Kristen I grew up to be, she's really different.  Her personality has been shaped and moulded by a wide variety of life experiences.  She has compassion and patience for the weaknesses and shortcomings of others.  She's incredibly flexible, even spontaneous.  She's curious, she's idealistic, and she has a greater regard for the successes of others, rather than strictly the success of herself.  And this is the Kristen the test results reported.

So which category do I trust?  Is it possible to have two personality types?

The answer I seem to feel is that personality is a tricky thing to compartmentalize and it would be a great risk to the person I could become if I was to simply nestle into a certain category.

Possibly the answer is simply that personality adapts and I've simply adapted over time.  Neither personality is right or wrong.

What do you think?

On Choosing One's Hill

I almost chose a hill to die on this week.

The Registrar, like the actual dude with the title "Registrar," at my university made me SOO MAD.  I began plotting how I would publicly rip him to pieces and hopefully get him fired.  I was prepared to do whatever it'd take to prove he was out of line and then proceed to smear it in his face.  Editorials in the school newspaper!  Petitions!  Tattling to his boss!  EGGING!!!  ... okay, not egging ...

Thankfully, after getting control of my temper, I quietly slinked back down the hill.  However, if I let myself think about it too long I start marching back up that hill again, prepared to die a most stoic death.

So I've been thinking.  What makes us choose hills to die on?  What makes a cause or point so important that we'll sacrifice all of our energy in pursuing and proving and pointing out how right we are?  Some kind of "Martyr Syndrome" or something, I guess.

Perhaps I'm just an apathetic person because I can't really think of many hills I've scaled and then proceeded to die upon.  There was that one time I tried to defend myself against an anonymous bully, but was that really a hill?  Or even a death?  I guess perhaps Depression awareness is something I believe in, but in my life it's really more of a mound that I'm standing on, playing show and tell with my scars.

It seems like everywhere I look there are people dying on hills.  Pro-Lifers hanging gruesome posters off overpasses.  Women movements for the priesthood.  Elimination of bullying!  Same-sex marriage.  Save the Whales!  Vegans?  When did society become so hilltop suicidal?  Is it just a phase?  You know, like all the cool kids are toting an iPhone 5 at the front lines of a cause?

The biggest question I have about this though is:

Which hills are really WORTH dying on?

Ultimately, for me, it would be my faith and family.  Everything other than that just seems so superficial and fleeting, why would someone want to die on a hill that will eventually just erode and crumble to a null and meaningless point?

So, what hills are worth dying on for you?  I am sincerely curious.

Gone With The Wind

The last time I visited my Grandma Gibb, she told me I was sentimental.  In her life history she wrote that I had old fashioned values.  I think what she's trying to say is that I was born in the wrong decade.  Perhaps even the wrong century.  I couldn't agree more with her.

I just finished reading the book "Gone With The Wind" by Margaret Mitchell and now my heart aches. The darn book has consumed me for the past two weeks and now that it's over I'm left feeling hopelessly out of place.  Is it possible to feel like you are literally better suited to a different era?

Don't get me wrong, life in this day and age has its perks.  I am far more educated than I ever could have been in a different day and age and I'm sure the tangible inferiority of women back in the day would have seriously frustrated me.  Yet those two perks and other things from today, like faster communication, quick and reliable transportation and easier access to wealth and information, seem so petty in comparison to what my life could have been like if I was born years and years before.

So lately I've felt rather disconnected.  Perhaps it's my depression being kindly enough to remind me that it still exists, but I don't think it's just that.  I sincerely feel like I'm stuck in the wrong place.  I am Ashley Wilkes.  And this is where I really belong.

Pictures from my Grandma Wendorff.

"Yes, life has a glitter now - of a sort.  That's what's wrong with it.  The old days had no glitter but they had a charm, a beauty, a slow-paced glamour."

- Gone With the Wind