Maybe, just maybe

I've been in Italy for just over a month now, living with a family and enjoying the quiet peace Tuscany brings to my soul. This quiet (when their 130 lb Great Dane isn't pouncing on me) encourages a lot of reading, reflection, some blank moments, and many pensive ones. The other day I had a bit of an awakening. I found myself reminiscing of High School; the experiences I had, the people I was friends with and those I was not, the people who judged me and those I judged. 

In these awkward pubescent four years of my life, I felt belittled and unrecognized for my qualities.  My boyfriend of the time would often comfort me with these words, "They just don't understand you". This was just one of the many things that justified my decision to live in misery. 

Even till this day my "no one understands me" attitude sticks with me like a leach on warm flesh. It has got to go! 

Maybe, just maybe, my High school experience sucked because I allowed it to. Maybe, just maybe, there was constant drama and tension in my home because I created it. 

Maybe, just maybe, I do not believe anyone understands me because I have not taken the time to understand them.

This

 
               

imagine

In some way, this image inspires me, invigorates me, and gives me hope.

seeing

As the trees do hum
And the oak bends as willow
Will the birds take flight

a new year, a new mountain

 This summer in Italy my pop and I hiked up to a place called "Buco di Montepertuso" meaning hole in the mountain. As we were hiking up the stairs, feeling parched and fatigued, we knew there was purpose in our journey. Once we reached the top my heart swelled and I became overcome with joy at the sight. We looked out over a small town off the Almalfi Coast called Positano; it was incredibly beautiful as the sun was descending, putting the community to rest.

Mountains are magnificent, wondrous, metaphorical, symbolic, and absolutely captivating. They are thought of as being challenges to overcome, obstacles to climb, and ambition to conquer.

I already feel as though this year is a mountain waiting to be climbed, and I am at the bottom looking up at the peak laughing with sheer delight as well as gasping for air at what is ahead. 

“Give me this mountain” (Josh. 14:12).

I can't wait for the moment when I've reached to top, but I also am prepared for the journey up the montepertuso!

restless

I've grown restless, as has the sea.

alive

Our emotions serve great purpose; they are the strength and the weakness, they allow expression of ones innermost identity, while their presence testifies that we are still alive.

A friend of mine was telling me her grandma’s notable, yet challenging life story. She survived World War II, saw her best friend killed, and later discovered her husband had been unfaithful. Recently, being frail and lonely, she attempted suicide.

I think of my great-grandpa who is still alive and thriving at the age of 92, and all the stories he shares with me about his youth are mostly anecdotes of the war. It is hard to relate to these memories of his, especially when they are embedded with loss.  

He is a stubborn old man, who cannot finish a sentence without somehow implementing “Goddamn it” as a way of further proving his point. He remembers being deported here on Oahu, many years ago, and can still remember the exact address of his home here on the Island, which beach it was near, and the fact there was no strip mall bordering the shoreline.

As I listen to these stories and attempt to comprehend their individual situations and trials, it all seems fictitious.It is hard, at times, to see the big picture and realize how blessed we all really are.

Another good friend of mine brought up the fact that he has lived a life where he’s been able to eat three meals a day—this amazes him—when so many all over the world are barely able to scrounge a meal a week.Sometimes I catch myself complaining or getting down on myself about the smallest issues/problems, which to the majority of the world would be laughable.

I feel that everyone has moments when the natural emotion of sadness overcomes them, regardless of what exactly their current situation is. Those who have no real problems to worry about, feel the need to worry about the small insignificant things because it justifies this innate feeling of sadness. Many think that feeling sad is a bad thing, or that it somehow needs to be remedied. I disagree; we feel these things to remind us that we are alive, living, breathing creatures; that we have the ability to be compassionate, empathetic, sorrowful, and with that, joyful.

2 Nephi 2: 23 “…having no joy for they knew no misery: doing no good, for they knew no sin” 

I have learned to acknowledge these emotions and allowed them to resonate within me; these emotions are my soul speaking to my body letting me know that I am still alive.