Summer of Change

I'm still alive, I promise.

I feel like I blinked and May, June, July just disappeared.  August is following suite-it being the end of the month.

Lots has happened and I've found myself not only insanely busy and perpetually occupied.  Honestly though, even if I'd had the time, the crud in my brain has been of a murky nature lately.  Nothing that came out of it in the past 3-4 months would have manifested itself in anything other than something that resembled teenage silliness or angst.  Nobody wants that.

A lot has happened, though, and I feel like I need to get everyone updated!  Just because.

And I've got pictures!

First things first.

This is my boy.

I obtained him from the Central Missouri Humane Society towards the end of May.

He wasn't what I was looking for, exactly.  I had a few other dogs in mind.  But Steven and Tamara went with me and talked me into him looking at him.  That was enough to show me it was meant to be.  He was so smart, and playful, and affectionate! 

His name is Bones.  No, not for the TV show with David Boreanaz. Nothing to do with him being a dog and dogs liking bones. 

Nope, it's much nerdier than that. 

He's named for Dr. Leonard McCoy off the original Star Trek series.

Yup.  That's right.

He even has the Trekkie name tag to prove it.

He's incredibly playful which I love!  He loves his toys (playing fetch like a pro and tug of war) and romping/wrestling. 

He also loves his cuddle time and is a champ about sleeping in when I want to.

Just look at that face!!



He's about 1 and a half years old.

He for sure has beagle/hound in him, but he doesn't have a houndy bark.  He sounds and acts more like a terrier sometimes.  So there's SOMETHING else in there.

He doesn't bark too much except in extreme distress or excitement.

He is almost over his submissive/ excitement peeing. Never had accidents in the house.  He's a sweetheart, ready to fall in love with you after 20 seconds of interaction.  He'll crawl right into your lap the second he meets you.

His big thing right now is chewing anything he can get his teeth into and finding creative ways to get around the methods I've used to dog-proof the place. 

We're finally getting into each others pattern.  He goes outside off leash to do his business and we've even taken walks up the drive with him leashless.  He is really getting a feel for how far is too far away (though he is easily distracted). 

I'm really falling for this guy!  I think he might be the one. 

(har, har, har)

Ready for my next addition?

First, lets say farewell to the retired Mexican Drug Lord, Javier. 

I resented him most of the time I owned him (because he wasn't a stick shift and he wasn't the car that I wanted going out to Maine). But over the 2+ years I owned him he got me to and from Maine and has been a loyal vehicle.  I treated him right and he got me where I needed to go.

I can't say that I'll miss him all that much but I am grateful to have had him.

Now, please welcome to the Lambson vehicle family, JUDE!

(Or as others tell me he is to be known: The Slammer-a name originated from my nickname in the YSA branch: Slambson)

Despite what others may assert, Jude is a boy car.  Though I reserve the right to change my mind as I get to know him better. 

 He's a 2008 Toyota Prius. Started with a little more than 60,000 miles on him.

He's my first big girl car.

And I love him.  He rides so smooth.  All I have to do to start the engine is push a button!  He's whisper quiet, like a ninja.  Roomy. He's pretty awesome.

More responsibility, more money, longer loan, etc.  But I'm glad I went through with it.

Thanks goodness for friends who convince you that sometimes you need to make the grown up decision and OWN it.

I'm happy with him.  I do a lot of driving-and because of him I fill up less which is nice.

Plus with all I hear about these cars, he's going to last me a while.

Yay for big decisions!

And then I went to a Weird Al concert!!  We were near the front and it was awesome.  That guy knows how to entertain even on a low budget.

Behold! The many faces of Weird Al.

He played a few old school songs, a lot of ones from his newest album, some of the classics (my favorites being Yoda, The Saga Begins, and Smells like Teen Spirit). It was a way fun concert.

(Sarah and Aaron heighten it up after the concert)

And just for good measure, here's a pretty picture of purple cone flowers. Taken at Shelter Garden's.  It wouldn't be spring/summer in MO without a trip there.

It's been crazy.

Like really crazy.

And I can hardly put into words all the self discovery and change that's happened over the summer.  But that's another story for another time.

So there you go, my summer update!  Hope you enjoyed.

I promise to try to be more consistent in the future.

It doesn't help that I don't have internet at my place that that's the most convenient location to blog.
















***










Oh, and as a side note, there was a boy for about two months.  We dated. Then we weren't. And that was that.  Started out as a good friend and still is.  That is all.

On My Revisit to the world of Blog

Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?

For my next trick I will make what has vanished re-appear!

Watch closely.

***

Okay.  So, it's been months.

I've started and erased many entries since then.  I had one I was going to write for my birthday a couple weeks ago.  It was awesome.  Simple, beautiful, exploratory, mildly artistic.

And then life just kept on happening, giving me no time to breathe.

I feel like I've not had a chance to catch my breath since March.  The moments I've had to stop, take a breath, and take a look around have been so brief and scattered that none of them have allowed me to take a little time here.

This blog, off and on a place full of life updates, has once again become simply a place of exploration (which is what it was originally created for).  Living in my hometown of Columbia does that to me.  While I know there are plenty of those people out there who AREN'T privy to my life experiences, I often lack the time or energy keep you all updated.

To be fair, I've sacrificed many things of late to the time gods.  TV shows being one of them.  Once the fall mini-break happened, I pretty much lost track of every show I've been following.

I hardly read anymore.  A tragedy that I am aware of almost constantly.

Obviously I am never HERE.

I don't practice the guitar anymore (it doesn't help that my instrument is being held hostage...but even if it were here I doubt I would be taking advantage of it).

There are plies of things started and never finished all around my apartment.  Reminders that I still don't really have this life things figured out.

There are small clusters of books I intend to read lying here and there.  And magazines.  All forgotten.

A stack of started letters.  Some even mostly completed.  Unsent.

1-2 story ideas sit in the back of my mind growing mold with a few pages each as the only evidence of their potential existence.

 A basket of family history items provided to me by my wonderful mother lie unexplored in a basket.

Don't even get me started on my hammered dulcimer and didgeridoo...purchases that had so much potential and have sat collecting dust.

It makes me a little sad.  I look at the state of my life and wonder what on earth I would do if I were forced to really grow up.

I've been thinking about growing up a lot lately.

26 was an interesting age to approach.  I never pegged myself as the age-concious type.  The kind of girl who says things like "I feel so OLD!" while I'm still living the best years of my life.  Mostly because I used to get so annoyed when people under that age of 50 said "I'm old".  Because they aren't.

I'm not old.

But there is no denying that the feel of time is different from the other side of 25.  I'm not sure what it is really.  Maybe because I am now closer to 30 than I am to 20 and the view is different over here.

I feel like I've taken huge strides lately in the right direction.  I've made decisions that any true and mature adult should be proud of.  I look at the state of many things in my life and I think "okay, I've got this well under control.  Go me!"

But in all honesty, I feel like I'm still waiting to really grow up.

And that's hard for me because deep down, I want to stay young.  We all do.  I want so desperately to keep that youthful part of me alive.

At the same time there are things in my life that I want very much. Grown-up things.

In the past several months I've actually heard people call me mature.

Every time I hear that I am at first shocked, then I glow a little with pride, then I feel an immense amount of pressure to live up to that perception.

The truth is there are parts of me that do indeed feel mature.  I know I've come a long way from where I used to be.  I've made some good decisions.  I made some significant progress.

Despite that, there is always Mindy.  There is and always will be that part of me who is so abysmally immature it's embarrassing.

I've come to realize, however, that this is part of being human.

I cannot in proper words express to you how turbulent the past couple months have been emotionally.

Some of you know (in varying degrees) of what I am talking about.

Some of you have no idea what I am referencing.

That's okay.  I'm not obligated to reveal all the intimate details of my life.  Know that I am sparing you by not delving deeper into the recesses of my mind.

I will, however, share with you some insights I have come upon.

One of them can be summarized by a Cat Stevens song:

"Don't be shy even, when it hurts to say.  Remember, you're gonna get hurt someday anyway."

It sounds a little depressing but here is what I glean from this little gem.

Don't be afraid to act, and don't be afraid to be honest, don't be afraid of making mistakes.

You are going to make mistakes.  It's part of life and growing.  You're going to get hurt.  There is no way to totally avoid emotional pain.  So stop making excuses because you're afraid of that pain.  You never know what could happen.  There could be pain, but there could be wonderfully exciting things as well.

"If you never try you'll never know just what you're worth".

That one is Coldplay.

While I feel parts of me have matured, I've found myself experiencing new levels of less than mature emotions.  Ones that I know even the most well-adjusted of adults feel (so I don't feel quite so guilty in feeling them).

The fact remains, however, that these feelings are new and foreign to me...at least to the extent and context I feel them.

Some of them are positive
(excited, joyful, elated, desired, understood, appreciated)

Others are negative
(jealous, insecure, doubtful, impatient)

It's the negative ones that worry me.

I've had a few people tell me that it's okay to indulge Mindy every once in a while.  She'll help me with that desire to feel youthful.  She can help me experience exciting things that "mature", rational Sarah normally wouldn't try.

But those four above emotions...those are the dark side of Mindy.  When dark Mindy rears her head I find myself regretting letting her gain even an inch.

Externally I'd like to think that I am pretty good at keeping her at bay.

Internally the wild winds are high and fast.

Like I said...turbulent.

All revolving around a particular subject (with a few other subjects thrown in the mix just to make things interesting).

I asked for this.  Believe me what I say that.  In truth I would not trade these experience for the world.

I do complain a lot about Mindy.  About being on this roller coaster.

In truth, it's exhilarating  terrifying, infuriating  and exciting all at the same time.

All at once an amazing and yet frustrating experience.

During it all I feel like a complete novice.  Like a flailing newborn horse trying to find its footing.

I know I can't be expected to get it right immediately...and I'm just waiting to fall flat on my face, cringing and hoping with all my heart that it doesn't happen.  Knowing that if it does, it will be an important growing experience.

Through it all I am immensely grateful for all those friends and family who are constant sources of support, advice, or simply a listening ear.

You do me more service than I think you realize.

I've no idea what the near future is going to bring.

That's a little scary.

But I find peace in the knowledge that I have my eternal goal in sight and nothing is going to lead me away from that.  Each step I take will only propel me forward, even if I end up having to backtrack or find my way because I got a little lost.

This is life.

This is what it means to live.

As my wonderful older sister mentioned in one of her blogs, THIS is life.  I need to stop waiting to live it and LIVE it because this is it.  Right now.  

And it is a fascinating and miraculous thing.

On a Snowed in Sabbath

Sure, I'm disappointed that the earth is covered in the wet, cold, white of snow right -it being the end of March and SUPPOSED to be spring.

But in all honestly, the thing that was the worst for me was that the snow today took away something that I really needed: going to church, partaking of the sacrament, renewing my covenants, and recharging my spiritual battery.  I awoke to the snow with thoughts of forlorn disappointment.

(Totally not me, by the way.  I ADORE the snow, but REALLY, Missouri?  It's almost April.  This is not cool.).

Normally I would have immediately said my morning prayers, but I was awoken by text messages seeing what my status was with the snow and trying to confirm if church was happening or not.  I spent the first hour of my morning making sure everyone was contacted and told that church was in fact canceled. With each new text I felt more and more depressed about it.  How dare winter come along with one final massive blow and take away the thing I needed most at the end of this rather turbulent week?

Once everyone had been contacted, I took some time to pray.

The second I got on my knees, I felt I was being wrapped in the arms of the comforter.  My heart was filled, and a sure knowledge entered my heart that just because the elements prevent me attending church does not mean I could not have a meaningful and spirit filled Sabbath day.  I felt the warmth of the love of my Father in Heaven, assuring me and letting me know he knew my disappointment and of the worries and insecurities of my heart of late.  I knew that if I did all I could to try and keep this Sabbath day and make the most of it, I would be blessed.

I started it with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and my scriptures.  Then I read an article in the Ensign.  Then with my parents (whose house I'm invading to avoid being blocked into my home like I was the last snow storm) and Kailey, who was our guest, we watched "To This End Was I Born" and then listened to the Jeffrey R. Holland talk "The First Great Commandment"  from last October's conference.  We finished with going though the discussion questions of this weeks Sunday School lesson.

I didn't get to partake of the sacrament.  I didn't get to hear the testimonies of my friends and peers and be uplifted by them.  No singing of hymns with the congregation.  And I didn't get to share MY testimony, which is something I've been bursting to do since last Fast and Testimony meeting.

But the spirit was present, as strongly if not more strong than I would have felt at church today.

My testimony was strengthened.

And I felt at peace.

In my scriptures this morning I found my bookmark at the following verses (with good reason).


Romans 2: 2, 9-16

"And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil, cleave to that which is good.
 Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.
Not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord;
Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer;
Distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality.
Bless them which persecute you: bless, and curse not.
Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.
Be of the same mind one to another. Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate. Be not wise in your own conceits."

Those bolded phrases really hit me.

I was reminded, as I often need to be, that I can be IN the world but do not need to be OF the world.  It reminded me of a scripture in D&C to Emma Smith to seek not worldly things but to "seek for the things of a better".  It was brought home to me that worldly doesn't necessarily mean material.  There are attitudes of the world, social norms and expectations that don't necessarily need to be sought or followed.  We don't need to let the expectations of the world wear us to nothing.  We need not be ashamed by those in the great and spacious building who watch mockingly from their lofty places.

Dissimulation: the act of deceiving.  "Let love be without dissimulation."  I don't think anything else needs to be said here.

Maybe it means something else to others, but "Be of the same mind one to another" means to be united in progression and purpose.  I also think it means being honest and communicate with one another.  Communication is one of those things I need to work on in my life.

The one that is most important to me lately though is this : to be patient in tribulation or trial.


Today my dad found this while looking though files in the house.  I've head versions of this before, but I would like to share this one with you.

It's called "Laws of Nature"
"I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out.  I waited a while, but it was too long appearing and I was impatient.  I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it.  I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my horror when I was saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain.  It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding wings should be a gradual process in the sun.  Now it was too late.  My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately, and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand.

That little body, is I believe, the greatest weight on my conscience. For I realize today, that it is a mortal sin to violate the great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm."

-Nikos Kazantazakis

This analogy touches me.  Deeply.  Not only on a literary level (I love nature analogies) but on a spiritual level.

I've been a long time coming out of my cocoon.  I have only myself to blame for that.  But now that I am ready to come out, I find myself impatiently trying to force something that has to happen in its own time with its own natural rhythm.  I am being refined and prepared.  I am proceeding forward as steadily as I can.  I know I am doing what is needed, taking the steps that are essential to me spiritual and social development.

I just need to have patience.

I've been promised some important blessings.  Ones that I know I will receive as long as I am worthy.

But the waiting is the hardest part.  I know this.  Because I am imperfect I know I will faces those stretches of impatience.  Of doubt.  Of frustration.

The important thing is remembering these times-times when I know with a surety that I can become all that I'm meant to be as far as I hold steady to this path.

I was going to bare my testimony today in church but since the snow has prevented that from happening, I think it appropriate to share a portion of it now.

I have a testimony of the pure love of Christ, which is Charity.  When I need it most, I feel the deep abiding love my Father in Heaven and my Savior have for me.  It fills me.  It pierces me. There are times when I recognize that love as something that is felt for every single person on this earth.  In those moments, the veil of this mortal existence is pulled back and I see in others their glorious potential.  Suddenly I am filled with that pure love of Christ and it is directed through me to others.  My regret at these times is that my simple mind is insufficient to express this love to others in such a way that they can appreciate it for what it is.

I have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I know that as I follow His example my life will be blessed and enriched.

I know that as we seek to better ourselves through the refining nature of repentance we can constantly become better versions of ourselves and progress towards that eternal goal of celestial perfection.

I have a testimony of the divine nature of every one of us.  Within us we all hold a tremendous potential.  For some it takes longer to realize this and seek to achieve it.  I know we all have the ability to be the version of ourselves we wish to be as long as we hold fast to the rod and never lose sight of our eternal goals.

I have a testimony that every single challenge and trial that we face refines and defines us.  We are fashioning and molding ourselves into who we will be for all eternity.  That takes time.  And it's not easy.  As long as our faith never wavers and we do our best to endure we will come out the other side better and stronger than we were.

Maybe this snow storm happened because I needed today.  I needed a day like this.  A day to discover how enriching every moment can be as long as we are willing to make the most of it.

I hope all of you reading this know how much I love and appreciate you.  I only wish you could understand just how much.  But alas, even in my way I cannot express it in words.

If my love is this great, only imagine how much greater the love of your Father in Heaven is.

On Mindy (AKA The Beast Within) Or Me Admitting I am a Little Insane

Today as I walked home, I stopped and listened.

To the peepers.  To the moving waters.  To the breeze that has not yet found her true voice among the trees.

I breathed.  It smelled of early spring.  Rejuvenating, invigorating.

All of it filled me.

I paused for as long as I could.

Drinking it all in.

After all that has happened this week, I felt revived for the first time.

And I smiled.  A true smile of peace and contentment.

It was a beautiful, brief reprieve.

***

NOTE: if you thought that was lovely and would rather not have your opinion of me tainted by my honesty, feel free to stop reading now.  You have been warned.

Now prepare yourselves because I am about to go into an extended metaphor that delves deep into the psyche of me.

Why?

Because I know there are several people who read this who would understand and right now that's what I need. Understanding.  Support.  And a good kick in the pants.

Remember THIS post?

This is an extension of that.

I've spoken here and there about the 19-year-old in my head.

This is all about her.  She is the beast within.

I think she needs a name.  At least for this post.  Because it gets tiring to keep typing "the 19-year-old in my head".

Let's call her Mindy.

So.  Mindy.

I keep her carefully locked away.  And by carefully, I mean she is shut off by whatever material my mind is able to muster at the time.  Lately it has been flimsy chicken wire.

I try to keep her complacent.  I've found that as long as she is starved of all things she desires she is pretty docile.  And so I have hammered a big sign by her cage reading "For the Love of Pete do NOT Feed Mindy".  Too bad it is invisible to all but myself.

People unknowingly toss her crumbs.  Nothing substantial, but it is enough.

Mindy can survive on very little-and a little goes a long way.  Before I know it she is relentlessly clawing at the chicken wire which begins to give way.  I wish desperately that my mind had invested in reinforced steel for her cage.

I can feel her gaining ground.  The enclosure begins to give way.  I try my best to patch up the damage.  But before long she has broken free.

She wrecks havoc.

Most often in the form of one of the most dangerous emotions: infatuation.

The state of being carried away unreasoned love.

A foolish, unreasoning attraction.

All in all, a stupid thing.

Here's what happens (exaggerated, of course.  But you get the idea).

Mindy sees the particular individual in question and instead of seeing him for what he realistically is, she plucks away every single possible redeeming quality.  THEN, she molds and fashions these into a kind of idol.  And it is him and only him she sees.  I (the mature 25-year-old) approach her as she kneels before him (praying to her false idol that he would just SEE her for what SHE is).  I put a kind hand on her shoulder.  I begin to try and help her see reason.

She lashes out.

Defensive of the lies she had told herself about this person.  This false religion she has created.

I present her with clear and obvious flaws in this idol.

Suddenly I am brought back to all those high school discussions on religion and the LDS church.  One side tries to convince the other they are right.  Both with convincing and knowledgeable arguments.

That is how Mindy is.  For every hole I poke into her logic, she comes along with an argument to fill that hole.  It's hopeless.

See why I never feed her?  Never let her out?

I don't mean that I seek to see only the flaws in people to save myself the aggravation of infatuation.  I just mean that I try to see what is real, rather than this perfect, false being that has been created by Mindy.

Her pillar of stone can never love because he does not exist.  Not as SHE sees him.  

I know that these feelings aren't real.  But for Mindy, they are VERY real.

All she sees is that he makes her laugh, shares many of her interests, pays attention to her.  Seeks her company.  These are all things she thrives on.  And they make her stronger.

So I do the only thing I can think of.  I try to remove the smorgasbord.  I starve her of what she craves.

But my attempts aren't always 100% successful.  I'm still the only one who can see that sign.  So there are still people feeding Mindy little bits here and there (often it is her idol unknowingly doing this).

And even after all this time, all my experience with infatuation (and unrequited love for that matter) I would think to create a cage of sturdier stuff.  Sadly I can only use what my brain provides.  And all I have is this chicken wire.

Sometimes I can reinforce it with boards or planks (provided by wonderful, loving friends and family).  But these have a tendency to rot away as time goes by.

Mindy is a beast. Sometimes she makes it really hard to be around those that I would simply see as friends.  It happened in high school, college, you'd think by now I would be past all this.

But Mindy is ever present.

So it is up to me to do what I can.

Truth is, I eventually win out.  The battle may be long.  I may lose ground several times.  But infallible logic always prevails.  And if not logic, the relentless passing of time will do the trick.  Eventually Mindy will see that the idol she has created is either rusting, crumbling, or simply never replies to her pleas.

It is in those times that I am there.  Just me.  Having triumphantly locked Mindy away.  And for a time, I feel blissful relief.  Peace.

Here's hoping I find that peace again soon.

Because right now, Mindy is winning.

MORAL OF THE STORY:

Avoid false idols.

On An Analogy and Lent

It's been quite a while. Every time I've gone to write an entry it seems excessively moody and self-pitying.

Now that I've gotten PAST that state, I think I'm ready to weasel my way back into the blogger-verse. 

And so...I give you an analogy I've been pondering lately.

***

She is the nail.

She may be galvanized, but she is not as strong as she seems.

But she does what she thinks is wanted of her.

Standing straight, she takes a satisfying plunge into the wood below with every new strike.

They are the hammers.

Each one taking its turn.

Every hit brings with it a thrill.  A smile.  

Because this is what is done, is it not?

That nail, she's just sitting there.  Standing.  Waiting.  What else is there to do?   

Soon she is flush with the plank.  

***

To end I offer a brief explanation for those who are confused. I hope this clears things up.

Note that I mean for this to be shared on the most amiable of terms.

***

I'm not Catholic.

I never have been.

Yet for the past 3 consecutive years I have observed, to some extent, Lent.

My first experience with Lent was in High School when I was friends with a Catholic girl.  She asked if I would give up something with her.  I complied.  Being in High School, I eventually failed (it was Soda and I LOVED me some Dr. Pepper).

In 2011, I decided I was going to give up Desserts (or sweets as some might consider them).  Those things that usually reside at the top of the food pyramid.  At least they did when I was in elementary school.

I did a pretty good job, I think.

So I did it again in 2012.

And again this year.  I'm surprised that it has been more challenging.  I feel I have more temptation and I'm more on my own.

This is the point I want to make.

I don't observe Lent because of some secret desire to join the Catholic church.  I've nothing against them but I am perfectly happy in my religion

I don't observe lent because I failed to follow through with my New Years resolution and this is my second chance.

I don't do this to gloat and show off my will power or to seek the attention of others.

I do it because it is a chance for me to prove to myself that I have self control.

I am in control of my actions.

I give up desserts every year because they are one of my weaknesses.

It says in the scriptures that God will make weak things become strong.

So this, I do for myself.

I think I should just start telling people that I am going on my own 40 day fast from my temptations instead "I'm doing Lent this year".  Maybe then my intentions would be clear.

Just wanted to clarify.

On The 3 Categories

I have this way of categorizing those individuals of the opposite gender who have any kind of placing in my life.  Whether it be friend, acquaintance, colleague, etc. they all fall into one of these categories.  

It came to me one day when I was having a particularly difficult struggle with the above mentioned gender.

Don't worry.  There will be no man-bashing, slandering, or otherwise negative jabs at the male sex.

This is a purely scientific categorization.

Category 1: The Untouchables

These are they who are nowhere near the realm of my achievement.  I would put George Clooney under this heading if I knew him in any way.  Others who are in this category include those who are (as society would put it) "out of my league".  Whether this be physically, educationally, or spiritually they are, simply put, untouchable.  Most likely unintentionally so, but there it is.  We all know the type.  And while we can dream, that's closest we will ever get. This is the simplest and generally smallest category.

Category 2: The Safety Men

They are exactly as the category labels them.  SAFE.  They are either taken, pre or mid-mission, interested in members of the same sex, or just simply "not my type".  They are guys its easy to spend time with because the obnoxious "interest" receptors in the brain are turned off.  These guys aren't even on the radar. There is no danger befriending them or even confiding in them because they, like the untouchables, are off the table.  A number of great guys in my life fall into this category.  I'm glad to know them.  They pose no threat.

Category 3: The Danger Zoners

Here is where we have our problem.  These guys are available, looking, and of interest.  Not only are they on the radar, but they are in great danger of gumming up the relay due to the 19-year-old that sometimes occupies my brain.  There are times when she can't focus on anything else.  We all know the symptoms of unrequited love.  The prognosis is bleak and it is quite contagious.  ESPECIALLY around The Danger Zoners.  They are carriers for the disease in the worst way.  Because they are carriers, they have NO IDEA that they are inflicting any kind of harm. These are they who easily become dangerous and "flawless" illusions (*nod to Sabrina*).  They are easy to befriend (and indeed there are some who are really GOOD friends), which often only makes things worse.  Being "just friends" with someone who you are infuriatingly infatuated with is truly tragic.  But those of us who allow it take what we can get, right?  It's better than not being with them at all.  They, like the Safety Men can be confided in because they have all the appearance of being trustworthy-this comes from the fact that they obviously have no idea of the effect they have on the girl who can't seem to convince herself that they JUST AREN'T INTERESTED.  I'm sure this is because often they see the girl as their own safety individual.  They often do things that unknowingly encourage the affections of said girl, making it nearly impossible to TRULY let go.  Oh, she (the 19-year-old in my brain) might release for a day or two, having been talked down by the rational adult that sometimes inhabits my brain.  But then something happens that causes a flare up and we're right back where we started. 

The Danger Zoners are (for the most part) totally innocent in their status.  Though the truth is there are guys in the world who look everywhere but right in front of them for perfection that they aren't going to find.  Not that they have to settle.  Not that ANY of us have to settle.  

Let me tell you a little more about the 19-year-old located in my brain who I am constantly doing battle with.

She is a persistent little bugger.  And she can't help but be drawn to the positive attention she gets when she sends time with these guys.  She clings hopelessly to the way The Danger Zoners make her laugh, share her interests, willing put themselves in her company, etc. 

And the hardest part is that there ARE good qualities about these problematic gentlemen.  If there weren't they wouldn't be Danger Zoners.  What happens is the rational adult in me sees those qualities and admires them.  But what the 19-year-old does with that admiration is twist it into a raging emotion that is barely controlled.  The rational adult, losing control of the situation, allows things to rise to dangerous levels before stepping in again.  For a time I can ignore those Danger Zoners who pose a dilemma.  But it's a never ending cycle and the lull doesn't last long.

I know deep down that the time spent thinking over and over this is time wasted.  

I have to constantly remind myself that I've been back in Missouri for over a year.  If something were going to happen with anyone I already know, surely it would have happened by now, right?

Anyway, there you have it. The three categories.  

I keep a constant eye on The Danger Zoners.  I try to reign in the 19-year-old.  I check myself often to be sure I'm not making too huge a fool of myself.  

And life goes on.  

This is part of learning and growing.

It's patience, understanding, frustration, and a touch of heartache.

It's knowing that as long as I am doing all I can to keep my covenants and live the best I am able, I can't go wrong.  And as I am proceeding forward, as long as I am not shutting myself away from the world, I'll find someone who will quote Star Wars with me, go on hikes, not scoff at my crunchy moderate "hippie" ways, and share my love of music.  All the while truly thinking that I am worth it.

In the meantime, I'll continue to scientifically mark and categorize the men in my life into these three groups.  Because there is only one who will eventually fall into the forth category.

Category 4: The Best Friend and Companion. 

On a November Nights Dream

Did I ever tell you that as a kid I used to pray for weird dreams?

Yeah. 

I liked the crazy stories my mind would come up with during my night time reveries.  And so I would ask God to bless me with strange and crazy dreams.

I was an odd one, for sure.

I don't ask for that anymore.  And while a crazy one pops in here and there my dreams have taken on a more realistic nature as of late.  

Meaning that often, while I am dreaming, I have no idea that the things that are happening aren't real.  

Because they are so believable.

Over the past couple of years I've had some particularly troubling dreams.  Ones where I have done something things.  Bad things.  And the guilt associated with the dream is so intense that I am almost crying with relief when I wake up and realize that it was, in fact, just a dream.  

I can't say that I am fond of these dreams.  Though I do see them as warnings.  

But the dream I had last night was different.

It was a dream the likes of which I have never had before.

In it, I was going to die.

And I knew it.

I had 24 hours at the most.

There was no disease, no injury, no ailment of any kind.  Just a certainty that I was, in fact, going to die.

I know that through the course of my dream I came to some rather poignant conclusions but I can't for the life of me remember what they were.

What I DO remember was the crushing guilt and disappointment.

Not terror.

And not a fear of what came after or what would happen to me.

But a deep and terrible wish that I had: 

1. Done more with my life

2. Tried harder to be the person I know that I can be

I could not stop thinking about how I was going to miss out on so much of my life.  I wondered what was so important in the next life that God couldn't afford to keep me in this one.

And most of all, I knew deep down that I had let too much slide. I had failed to be the strong, devoted daughter of God that I knew I had to potential to be.

Was this dream also a warning?

I know I'm not going to die in the next 24 hours (boy did I just jinx myself...).

But I know that I can always be doing better.  And yet I let so much fall by the wayside.

What more should I be doing?  What can I do so that if I were going to die in 24 hours I would not feel those things I felt in my dream?

I'd take strange, crazy dreams over these frighteningly realistic ones any day.

But maybe I need these wake-up calls.