Experiences

It's been a while.

It always surprises me when I find out who reads this.
In fact, it always catches me off guard when anyone reads this.
Ah well :)

Some thoughts from the Supposed Deep Thinker?

I always had so many ideas about what life was supposed to be like in college.
First.
I would be the social butterfly, just like my brother Isaac. I would have so many friends and just flit from movie night to movie night. I'd be going on dates all the time. I would eat ice cream, cry at chick flicks, and be proud and independent.

I had similar ideas about high school before I went.
My brother Isaac had a fantastic time in high school, and I wanted my experience to be
just
     like
   that.

...I spent so much time worrying that I was missing out on something and not living life to the fullest! Silly me...

Now, here I am again. I'm at the close of my first semester in college. I hardly believed I would ever grow to be a college student when I was little; it seemed impossible that I would ever walk the grounds where my Daddy worked as a professor and my brothers studied academic wonders...

yet here I am.
I made it.

When I walk alone sometimes, under the skeleton boughs of trees above and the sky bundling with heavy, gray clouds; now comfortable in the thousands of students that stream past me anonymously and the looming buildings, I pray silently. I think about where I am.

How I got here.

And who I'm becoming.

It struck me: I am far from having the "freshman" experience.

I live off campus.

I live off my own wages.

I have exactly six friends in my social group, and that includes my boyfriend.

I date exactly one person.

I have a serious boyfriend.

I don't care about the stuff a lot of people my age care about

Frankly, I don't like many people my age

I don't like staying up late on a school night.

I don't even have any ice cream. Mint Oreos are better, anyways.

...or any chick flicks.

But then, it struck me again.

I don't want  the Freshman experience,

the "single-and-loving-it" experience,

the college experience,

the singles ward experience...

I want MY experience!

I don't want to date all the boys; I want Aaron.

I don't want to have a million friends; I want real relationships with my family members.

I don't want to be cool and sophisticated; I want to be raw, stumbling, learning and messy and loving it.

I don't want to eat a ton of ice cream   ...that's a joke; I'll always want ice cream.

I don't want to be like everyone else; I want the treasured memories and experiences that 

make me me. 

People don't always understand where I'm coming from. 

I am absolutely in love with Aaron, and it's unusual to be in that situation at my age. It's unusual to be considering a future together seriously when you're still stepping out of your childhood shoes. It's strange to consider such serious decisions when you've only just learned to buy your own apples. And because of that, sometimes trying to talk about him with another kid my age brings blank looks and a change of subject. It's strange, sometimes, that my friends are completely unable to relate to such a big part of my life.

I wonder what people will think about me, sometimes.

I wonder if they'll whisper, "Did you hear about Karen? Can you believe she only graduated last year?"

"I bet she just fell in love with the first guy who paid attention to her."

They shake their heads, "She's nothing but a child."

"She always was a little crazy."

I know they'll say such things, because my friends and I entertained such whispers, 

                                                                                                                             too.

You don't know what you're doing,

                                                         my own head whispers,

                                                                                               you're too young. Too inexperienced. Still a child. It's unsafe.

STAY

where you're supposed to belong. 

You can't get hurt here.

Well now, head.

NO.

I'm going.

I'm venturing into the unknown.

I'm willingly stepping into challenges, 

and I'm accepting my weaknesses the way they are now,

and I'm still going.

I've tasted something eternal, and all the fun and care-free pleasures the world can offer can't possibly fill that hunger that I have for it now. Fun will never compensate for meaningful, and excitement will never substitute for joy.

The timing isn't perfect, but it's right.

I'm not all the way matured, but I'm willing to grow.

I'm not 100% sure what's going to happen, but I have faith.

I'm not having the Freshman experience, but I'm having my experience.

It's the one I want.

Because I'm not a Freshman,

I'm 

     me.

I'm Karen.

And that's who I want to be.

Aaron's showing me how his shepherd for our lovely, clay, oven-baked, hand made nativity scene!

That smile...! Ah! He's so cute!

When I see this picture, the first thing that catches my eye is my smile.
I am so happy.
I've only seen myself so happy in other pictures with Aaron.
Then I notice my crazy hair :)

Look, three of my favorite, handsome men!

"What color should we make it?"
"Red!"
"Ok, red it is! Wow, that's a lot of sprinkles, Jackson!"
Hearing these two talk and laugh together was really dear to me.

I don't know what it is, but there's something about you that just draws my love out to you. I couldn't not like you if I tried. You have a certain deepness about you that few your age have; you are wise well beyond your years. 

~ Brother Hunter

My Book of Mormon teacher.

He loves me and helps me to love myself.
I hope to live up to these high compliments that he gives me.

9 blessings for a terrible day

To be honest, it was the hardest day I've had in a long,
                                                                                  long time.
I felt utterly defeated.
My head hung low on my chest as I trudged home from campus in the dark, and as soon as I walked through my apartment door, I broke into sobs.

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. My heart was just breaking from discouragement, and I just felt so broken and kicked down.

Now, several hours later, I'm calmer.
My heart still feels a little tender, but instead of feeling cursed and bitter,
                        I feel blessed.

I want to say some tender mercies that I'm grateful for; tender mercies that completely turned this situation around to one where I could feel so much love from everyone around me and healing.

1. Aaron

Thank you so much.

I love you.

2. Tori and Jessica

I can't really find the words,

so I'll just have to leave it at that.

3. Twinkle lights

They remind me of my childhood room 

They make me feel warm.

I just love them.

4. Sean and Steve; Aaron's roommates and my friends.

               They're always there to help me with whatever I need,

whether that's grocery shopping,

making me laugh,

donating their Parmesan cheese so I can make a chicken recipe (Steve),

picking me up from work,

rearranging their schedules to drive me to the doctor's,

taking me to Red Robin,

sending sassy snapchats,

asking me if I'm ok,

or looking through Tori's bridal magazine and discussing wedding dresses (Sean).

I am so grateful for all the little kindnesses they show me. They make a world of difference.

Sean loves the Biebster

Steve Angus. The wittiest, fanciest redneck I know :)

5. Chocolate cupcakes

I get out of bed this morning = REWARD!

Then, later tonight, I saw one lying on the counter top through my tears.

And things got just a little better.

6. Fall

I just look up at the beauty and remember,

Oh yeah...

God loves me!

7. My very own copy of the scriptures.

I am so 

satisfied

every time I flip through, 

see the markings,

and run my fingers over the smooth pages.

I love the stories; I love the words;

I love the peace.

PLUS

a hilarious Book of Mormon teacher,

who likes to tell me just how fabulous of a person I am,

speaks softly, humbly, and with the Spirit,

and who is constantly conspiring to help all of his students find their "eternal companion".

8. Crying

I'm so glad

                              that I can cry.

I'm so glad that my heart is still tender enough

that I can still feel pain.

I'm so glad I have a soft heart.

I'm so glad I can cry.

Crying 

makes room for the healing of the Atonement.

9. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ

Sometimes, especially on nights like tonight,

my heart is just filled to the brim,

bursting,

hurting and bruised,

and I can't do much more in prayer besides crying out,

pleading for some help

some relief.

They heard me.

They sent me all of these things, so that even in a moment of intense discouragement and sadness,

I could not doubt for a moment that they loved me.

I am so grateful and devoted to Them

Life is hard, believe me, I know.

But I'm not giving up,

and neither should you.

God is surrounding you with blessings. So many ways he is trying to tell you, all around you, whisper...

I love you, my child.

Be grateful for the hurt,

because it means you can still feel,

and that you care.

The bitter makes the sweet.

Keep going.

I know He's looking out for you, just like He's looking out for me.

~ Karen

All the pictures are mine, except for the cupcake, crying, and twinkle lights.

Life is full

of beautiful, 
super-ordinary moments like these.

Saturday morning.

It's been a grueling week.

                            Jess: A really, really messed up week?

                           Me: Seven days of torture?

                         Jess: Seven days of bitter?

                      From a popular song. We totes had this exchange once.

Wake up slowly. It's 11, and you still don't want to get out of bed. 

But you don't have to get out of bed,

               not yet,

                          because there's no class today.

So you shift back and forth, slipping between dreams and being half awake.

I finally do wake up, sit up, rub the sleep blearily from my eyes.

                Jess is sitting across from me.

                Snuggled up in blankets in her bed across from me,

                    on her laptop.

It's nice to wake up to your best friend already awake across from you.

Finally, I stumble from my bed, Jess trudges from hers.

I grab a mint Oreo and munch on it wearily,

                Jessica literally hugs her box of Lucky Charms, slumps, and sighs.

Still not saying anything but the groaning indicates what we nocturnal college students have to say about the morning, er, afternoon.

I grab another Oreo.

Sit down across from our Starry Night painting by Van Gogh that is still on the floor because we're too lazy to actually nail it up on the wall.

I munch quietly, study the colors. Get lost in all the brush strokes. Study his technique, pick out the contrasting colors, the splash of orange among the blue, wonder at what made this man think so differently from everyone else. I love that he could see the color bursting from the world around him. Sometimes that's how I see it, too.

My fingers absentmindedly brush my guitar, which is propped up next to the painting, leaning back on it's stand.

It's in tune.

Pull it down, straddle it across my lap. Trained fingers pluck and coax the sound. It vibrates, becomes warm at my touch.

I feel my body relax against it as the familiar tune envelopes me. I decide I'm not going back to bed.

The song comforts me, and the first words of the morning are uttered as I start to sing. Raspy, at first, hoarse with the remnants of sleep, but I find the warmth of the song, combined with my voice and emotions pulling something I love out of me. Expression.

A whisper of a voice echos with mine: Jessie's singing, too. Soon, she comes and sits next to me, turning the pages and harmonizing with the parts she knows.

We end up laughing over lyrics, talking about memories of songs, and falling into the rhythm of a good morning.

We sing for a good time, then it dissolves into both of us curled, me on the couch and Jessica on the ground with music and guitar accessories scattered around us, laughing over great times and just relaxing.

Little moment, simple moment.

But those are the best moments of all. 

College is funny

It just is.
Like the fact that I'm still alive.
I know for a fact, that in my wee section of the pantry,

I have
     Pasta
     Spaghetti sauce
     Popcorn
     PastaRoni
     Mint tea (yum...)

I'm out of bread, which is obviously my sandwich/lunch staple. No apples, bananas, pretzels, chips, or beloved Oreos...

...HOW AM I STILL ALIVE?? I seriously need to go to Smiths!! I guess there's still mayonnaise in the fridge :)

Some great moments of the week:

<<<< >>>>

Smearing brown eye shadow (thanks, mummy!) into Aaron's stubble to complete his cowboy costume! He let me dress him up, basically. I was an Indian.

I darkened his blossoming mustache, making it sharp and obvious against his face.

We both stepped back and Aaron scrutinized it in the mirror.

"This is the future," I said quietly.

Indian bib thing = AWESOME.

<<<< >>>>

Jessica and I were walking to the library,. We were laughing about a text my sister -in-law had sent me in response to Aaron's worry that she would judge him for his mustache, as she hadn't met him yet.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a figure slunk up behind me and grabbed my hand in his.

It was Aaron.

I SCREAMED,

                                    turned,

                                                                                                   and ran away and up onto a ledge!!

It was terrifying.

<<<< >>>>

I work as a janitor at the Marriott Center. (Definitely a love hate relationship.)

I was waiting for Aaron to come pick me up as it was 8:00 and dark outside. My coworkers were on the other floor.

I had been spinning around in a wheely chair, when I got the brilliant idea to push myself all the way around the concourse!

So I turned, sat down so the back of the chair was straddled between my legs, and pushed with my legs! At portal J, the half-way point, I started,

"Ohhhhhhh we're halfway there..."

About 3/4s of the way, I started to doubt my decision. 

My legs were kind of hating me at that moment.

But I made it!

Wahoo!

(Note: it's a fourth of a mile to go all the way around the concourse)

<<<< >>>>

Jessica sent me about 20 texts one night, pleading with me to come home.

When I arrived, the windows were dark.

I knocked; Jessie opened the door. The rest of the apartment was dark.

"...were you just sitting here in the dark??"

Jessie eyed me sheepishly, "I'm hiding."

She'd been sitting in the dark for quite some time.

She'd had a rough day :)

We watched Thor and talked during all of it without anyone there to tell us to be quiet, ate a bag of Snickers, and commented on the symmetrical structure of the male protagonists in the movie.

<<<< >>>>

Halloween.

It has convinced me that BYU is full of nerds.

And oh, how I love them. 

First time I saw this guy, I passed him alone on Rape Hill. Scary

<<<< >>>>

THE GRAND FINALE:

I was pretty darn bored in my Intro to Health Professions, so I texted Aaron saying something about a picture he'd been tagged in on Facebook.

"Just wait till you see the other photo that got posted today," he answered, "I had to get creative 'cause I didn't have a real costume."

Got on Facebook and found

THIS little beauty

BYU Men's XC Halloween fun run! Later, I asked, "Were you flexing?" Him: "No."

Guess which one my boyfriend is?

The one squatting in the towel.

I almost lost it in my class. Instead of busting up laughing, I just reacted physically in my seat by bending up. Basically I looked like I was having convulsions.

"What IS that picture???" I texted furiously, "What are you???"

"I was a guy who just got out of the shower," he responded promptly, "I ran five miles in a towel!"

He then related this story to me later in person:

Aaron hadn't planned a Halloween costume for his team's practice, and thus ended up going as a naked man. "Don't worry," he assured me, "I was wearing shorts."

Aaron strategically arranged his towel so that the slit dangled over his thigh. Thus, whenever he took a step forward, his entire upper leg was exposed. Apparently he got a lot of looks.

At one point in the run, they approached a group of girls waiting at a stop light from behind.

One girl turned, saw Aaron, and her eyes widened,

"Oh my goodness," she said before she could stop herself, "Look at those muscles!"

Then she turned red.

And giggled with her friends.

Hysterical!!!! Hahaha!!!

<<<< >>>>

life. is. great.

~ Karen :)

Late night thoughts

I can't really sleep.
I slept in too long today :)

Sometimes, I get all these thoughts just bouncing around in my head.
And my blog is, as it's called, THOUGHTS By the Supposed Deep Thinker. So, some thoughts.

Ha, how adequate that title is for me.
The "supposed deep thinker".
I'm glad I have the ability to think deeply about things and really ponder them.
I've always been that way, ever since I was a tiny girl.
It's a gift, really, to be able to think deeply, to ponder, to pause and ask yourself about the wonders of this life.

I remember lengthy prayers I would have with my Heavenly Father; more like conversations, actually, as I lay in my bunk bed at night under my Hello Kitty quilt.

I would just ask Him so many questions, plead for a toy I was pining for, but more importantly, just blab and blab away.
He would talk back.
I was sure of it.

I was a little girl with a loud family filled with many loud, unanswerable questions.

Why were bad things happening to those I loved?
Why was I hurt in such a way?
Why were those I loved hurtful, mean, and occasionally cruel?

Looking back now....
Oh, how essential those little prayers were. My tiny child's understanding was fueled by big faith.
I would pray as I walked to Elementary school, and felt like He would talk back. My prayers can't have been more than a handful of scatterbrained ramblings, but I knew He was there. I know He loved listening to my little queries and teaching me about the wonders of His world. When I felt an unshakable emotion, I would sing Primary songs and, looking back now, I can identify the Spirit they brought me. When I'd awaken in the night, trembling from a nightmare, I'd pray. Plead. I always knew that He would answer me. He helped me find a lost key to my bike lock at school and my hamster, Max, when he escaped from his cage at home.

As I grew older, my understanding has grown. When I dawned adulthood, He gave me the chance to revisit the pains from my childhood, and my scars seared as they were reopened, inspected, and finally healed through His Son's Atonement.

It hurt.

It was HARD.

Some of my big questions still aren't answered. I don't know why I had to go through some of the things I did. Sometimes I wish I was still that little child, the one who would talk endlessly in prayers as she walked and burst into Primary songs when something troubled her.

But I am STRONG. I know my Father better, and when the Spirit shreds away false pretenses and the layers of years, I know that, before Him, I am still that same odd little child.

He loves me dearly.

I love that little girl, too, but I love the strong woman I've become.

I can still ask questions.

I still pray.

I still sing.

I still can hurt, but I've learned where to find healing. I still cry for my loved ones, but I've come to know Whom they truly belong to. I still ask questions, but I'm at peace with not having all the answers.

I don't always understand. I can't possibly know all. But my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, they have molded me into the person I am today. They are EVERYTHING to me. They are the reason I find life worth living. They are the dearest to my soul, and their promise is what I yearn for.

I am NOTHING without them. I don't want to be anything without them. I define myself by Their love and keep fighting because of Their faith in me.

I love Them. I don't want anything to do with a life without Them.

Holy Guacamole

Life is so good.

I'm seriously so happy so much of the time that it's kind of physically exhausting.
Hm.
Wonder why...

That's a joke. I know why.

You're great, Aaron! Thanks for FINALLY giving me a reason to try and make myself look good in the mornings!

My roommates are hot.

It's Friday night. Party! Or nap...either works.

I made dinner. The "baked" potatoes didn't bake at all.
Oops.

We went to a stake dance, but for GROWNUPS!
I am a 70s woman!

This is where I go running.
Hello.
Thank you, Utah, for being beautiful.

My sweet, sweet friends at Angie's missionary farewell! I'm so grateful for all of you and for the joy you've brought me. I feel so blessed to know you guys! You kept me safe and helped me to know my Savior through your examples. Thanks for putting up with my crazies.

Angie and I. Goodness gracious, Angie, I love you! You'll be a fantastic missionary! I basically wanted to cry the entire time during your farewell, I was so happy!

BYU men's XC is growing mustaches for nationals. This is Aaron modeling the one he's going to grow.
Lord, give me strength...

Perchance I've been feeling a bit of the "college blues", as I called them.

I snuggled down in my bed last night, pulled my quilts up to my ears, and let a few tears hit the pillow.

I was feeling a little homesick.
                                       Lonely.
                                              Exhausted.
                                                          Left out.
                                                               And tired of being a grown up.

....I still am.

I missed being super sassy at  home with my little siblings, and saying whatever snarky things came to mind just to come out on top. I missed bursting out into random song/random super loud noises, and counting on Nathan to either make the super-loud-random-noise back to me or harmonize with whatever song I was singing. I missed being crazy and not having anyone bat an eye. I really missed my old room, randomly, even though it was always messy and driving me crazy half the time.
I missed having my own space to think and get away. I missed spending so much time by myself. I missed coming home and knowing that everything would be ok. I missed looking outside at the field and walking among those trees.

Somehow, after crying a bit and letting myself feel all those things, I felt better. I fell asleep with a Mormon Tabernacle Choir song playing in my head, and when I awoke, I felt fresher.
Felt more me.

I played an album that I'd listened to often in Carpinteria, California when my family went on vacation there a month ago while I got ready for the day. I could almost feel the California sunshine on my cheeks and remembered how excited I had been to go to college.

It's ok for me to feel tired.

It's ok for me to feel vulnerable.

It's ok to feel left out.

It's ok to be sad.

It's ok to be human.

Weak.

But trying.

Try not to tell yourself that you should/shouldn't be feeling a certain way.

                       Every time I do that, I just feel miserable.

Just let yourself feel it, explore it, and then eventually it will pass.

Give yourself time to grow.

I still feel a little sad

                              left out

                                         and vulnerable,

But it's ok.

I've got my family, and I love them so much. They're my best friends and my life's treasures. Those relationships mean the world, and so long as we all keep trying and keeping our covenants, I'll get to have them forever.

Aaron walked me to class this morning; a good bye, actually, since he's leaving for a Cross Country race for the next few days.

He smiled at me, held my hand and made me laugh. It made me feel safe. And like me. Warm.

            I like him. 

                He can stay.

As my dear old friend Olimpia would always say, quoting a song we both learned in Kindergarten,

              "I like being me." Greatest. Song. EVER!!

Plus.

Heavenly Father, my Savior, and my favorite book, aka The Book of Mormon, are always the same wherever I go. 

That's home to me.

Big Springs or Arcadia, as Isaac calls it. Aaron and I totes went hiking there.

Are you grateful?

Because I am today.
I was walking home from a temple recommend interview with my bishop. It was a little cold, and I had some negative thoughts rattling around in my head. I was basically just a grumpy woman--ladies reading, you might be able to read between the lines there. And sympathize.

I was listening to some Mormon Tabernacle Choir and starting to feel the peace in the words, when the song "There is Sunshine in my Soul Today" came on. My fingers fumbled to skip it, because sometimes I don't really like the "Mormon Sunshine Hymns" as I call them,

But I stopped. And listened.

And I felt a warmth spread from inside and blossom across my face into a smile.

"When Jesus shows His smiling face,
There is sunshine in my soul."

Seeing Jesus's smiling face; that WOULD make me smile.

The view while I was walking

Today as a family, we had an impromptu singing of some spiritual choral songs. It's my favorite way to worship, and to be honest, I love the sound of my voice ringing out. I am self conscious when singing, but when I'm at home, singing about God, all inhibitions are gone.

We started singing a song called "Pilgrim Song", one of my all time favorites. My grandpa was sitting by himself and unable to gather around the piano like everyone else, so I sat with him.

I think it's because of my familiarity with Aaron that I felt very comfortable taking his papery, frail hand and holding it in mine. Even stroking it.

During the song, my grandpa leaned in, and said something like, "I can't wait until I get to join my wife!"

My heart ached for him.

So bitter sweet.

Listening to his frail voice that was struggling to hold the notes, 
his voice that had been strong and ringing years ago; hearing him sing the words, 

"My soul now sits and sings and practices its wings, and contemplates the hour, when the messenger shall say, "Come quit this house of clay, and with bright angels tower!"

Knowing how badly he wants it,
                                             believes it, 
                                                         and knowing the glory that's waiting for him...

I couldn't help but cry. I couldn't sing anymore. 

Tears streamed down my face. I truly felt like I was in a celestial moment. I could see my sweet Grandpa and the plan that surrounded him, and the joy he would feel when it was the time for him to pass on, the moment he's so desperately holding on for. I could see the piece of the puzzle that old age and death plays in the Plan of Salvation. I saw the JOY that it brings.
I was surrounded by my family members and let their voices wash over me, singing with all of their faith and testimonies that filled the room and warmed me. It was ringing with their joy and praise.

We are all going to live together, forever.

Aaron noticed my tears as I sat behind everyone on the couch, like I knew he would. Without saying anything or losing his place in the song, he walked over and put his arms around me, then finished the song by my side.

             Thanks, Aaron. I'm glad you were there in that moment.

Guys, the Church isn't just true: the GOSPEL is true. This work, this goodness, this obedience is of God. It's the same one that started with Adam and Eve and that was restored to my ancestors hundreds of years ago.

~Karen

"Perhaps you think me wild, or as simple as a child

I am a child of glory

I am born from above, my soul is filled with love,

I love to tell the story

My soul doth long to go where I may fully know

The glory of my Savior

And as I pass along

I'll sing the Christian song

I'm going to live forever."

~ Pilgrim Song

Found this picture of Tristan (my nephew) and I on my mom's phone.

Silly baby. Go ahead and blur the picture, why don't you.

Random loves.

Jessica's text to me at the top.