consider the daisies

you might know the saying. as jeff reminded me,

don't worry too much about what's happening under it all.
the roots are growing, even if we can't see them.
and too many good things have been ruined because some people can't resist pulling up the daisies to see how the roots are doing.

but i just can't help but think that sometimes it's hard to tell whether i'm pulling up the daisies or just haphazardly yet faithfully watering them everyday, but without taking thought that water might not be what they need (perhaps they need more sun, or less water, or ...vitamin...water...?)

yeah.

i'm super stoked for general conference this weekend. i have an impossible schedule -- i don't see how i can get everything done in the physical amount of time that i have.

but.

i know that if i put God first, watch conference (four sessions!) and do my best, things will work out. they always do. and if they don't, they're probably not as important as i think they are.

the cool thing is, no matter who you are, there is bound to be something that will help you. and it's so accessible: you can even view it here. one click away to potentially life-changing info.

cool.

i am beyond excited to hear what insights lay in store for us this weekend. i hope it helps my garden situation.

 

with no disrespect to the &

last* night i attended my fifth tally hall concert.

...can you tell?

*by 'last night', i meant july 27th. as usual, i wrote this post back then and the pictures took a while. 

you now have THREE options (this is kind of like a choose-your-own-adventure post!!)

1. if you already know about tally hall, collect $200 (which you provide yourself) pass go (GO!), and skip to number 4. if not, go to number 2 or 3.

2. check out the first post i wrote about them which discusses our tally hall history in more detail. (2a. read that post, read jeff's post linked from that one, then come back here and skip to number 4.)

3. keep reading if you're too lazy decide not to click that. 

A. on sept 20, 2007, jeff and i went to a guster concert. he wanted to take me to a tmbg one, but i was < 21. so. guster it was, because he won free tickets. cool. i liked guster. however, the second opener was who peaked our interest. five dudes who dressed in slacks, white button-ups and skinny ties. jeff loved them right away. i was intrigued, started diggin their music, and was sold when one of the guys, rob, forgot the words right in the middle of a fast rap part and stopped singing, proclaimed he was kicking himself out of the band, and hopped off stage into the audience, with his head down in a mock-shame. omgoodness. love.

B. we've since been to five shows. after each, we have taken a photo with the band (it first started with me and jeff and alie and stephen, and rob). each time, we've added the people with whom we attended, as well as another band member. we call it, THE PICTURE. (creative, yes? why yes, it is. when you put it in all caps and say it like we do.)

4. let's catch up...
the third and fourth concerts were especially epic. (summed up: they performed at an elementary school in provo, due to cheryl's classroom, jeff's persuasion, and a dang cool principal). that day turned out to be an adventure. and i turned it into a blog saga (blaga?):

part I: lunch with the band

part II: the classroom

part III: the kiddie concert

part IV: the big kids' concert

part V: the after-party

5. so, yesterday.

we went to see them again. jeff and i are kind of the self-proclaimed tally hall pioneers of this town. so of course, he flew up from texas to see it with our friends. this is the only tour the band is doing for their new album, good & evil. we couldn't miss it. and it was fantastic. 

concert highlights: 

1. when we were in line and rob and andrew walked by in normal clothes (most don't recognize them out of their typical tally hall uniforms). they totally recognized us and greeted us. i felt pretty good about that. jeff and i chilled and photo'd outside before doors opened. 

2. i decided i really needed a ballpoint mustache for no apparent reason. soon i curated some for all my friends there, too. that's really why i'm an artist. 

we decided to "mustache"(now a verb) one of the opening acts, casey shea. we stood there with mustaches showing, and in the middle of his song, he laughed and said into the mic, "i need a picture of that!" 

so here it is, casey. here it is. 

3. casey shea turned out to be pretty awesome. super friendly with the audience, talented performer and all around nice guy. really genuine. 

4. the other band, speak, was really good. ...though they looked like they were 12 years old. and the bassist: harry potter in college?  

5. bora opened the show! he's pretty fantastic and i really enjoyed talking with him after the show.

6. we kept mustaching. of course.

7. tally hall: oh how i heart them. loved hearing the new songs and still being able to sing along.

8. jeff won a competition and got to go on stage and play a weird instrument thingy! when he was done, rob complimented him on his use of his personality while using the instrument. apparently lots of people don't put a lot of style into playing it. (read jeff's excellent account here!) 

9. loved the finale -- all three bands came and played on stage. the moment captured below was one of my favorites. 

10. oh, and me and casey were kind of twins. with the same hair and outfit (except that i sort of think his pants were more tight than mine).

11. it was fun to chill after the show and also fun to have friends like mal and mariah, who hadn't previously been to a tally hall concert, share in the good times.

and here are the photo evidences to aforementioned points: 

and, of course, THE PICTURE. each concert we add another band member and it was joe's turn...if you look close, you can actually see him here. :) it was a 2-for-1; bora joined as well!

  sing while you hear it; don't deny it.

small successes

editor's note: though we promised the next post would be full of photos, we've been pretty busy around here at warm fuzzies, trying to squeeze the most fun out of the rest of summer possible.  thus, we have yet to post aforementioned tally hall post. this will be coming soon. meanwhile, we succeeded in maximum fun-squeezing. while we finish up the tally hall post, enjoy these little thoughts:

sometimes, i feel like it's easy to get caught up in the 'big' decisions of life and that can be very stressful. to get myself out of that rut, i've been finding it helpful to count the minor victories that can make meh-days into huzzah!-days. here are some from this month that i actually recorded as they occurred. they're chronological except for the first, which happened yesterday:

-- i was trying to justify buying an odwalla drink (after already having purchased, opened, and sipped it). i turned it over to check out the contents. so far, so good: oranges, vitamin c, protein, and...DOUBLE RAINBOWS. (?!) i realized my drink was actually made of WIN.

-- i just stared down the subway cookies (the delicious ones by the register) straight in the face and said..... NO!

 -- i smiled at two people in a row; it was the *perfect* greeting-without-being-awkward amount of smile. i dunno if you've noticed, but there's kind of an art to that. and they both smiled back.

-- my friend jess sent me the following message for no reason at all:

"Let`s settle this the mature adult way." 

"Rock paper scissors?" 

"Yep.."  

I could see us doing that. haha!

-- five professional artists (two who happen to be some of my favorites) started following me (one on pinterest, four on twitter) without me following them first, and my lovely cousin audra just pinned up one of my paintings on pinterest. ....i sort of feel like a rockstar.

-- i love that my friend mallory thought this fitting to text me:

        "Two very attractive, shirtless boys just ran past me. Just so you know. :)"

-- i've been listening to a lot of ambient/instrumental music lately. i realized that when i listen to it through my earbuds while walking around campus, it greatly affects my mood. for example, i texted my friend ryan this morning, "ps, i'm walking like i'm way more epic than i really am again".

-- at a late-night trip to denny's on the way back home from AZ, my brother took his little 3-yr old son who isn't *quite* potty-trained to the restroom. my nephew ran back first, at full speed, smiling from ear to ear and yelled victoriously across the room to us, "i poooOOOOOooooped!!!!"

...yes. around here, we count the small successes.

i jumped

my pride is screaming at me not to write and publish this one. but my will tells me that it's a good learning experience and should be shared. guess i'll let you decide.

exhibit a: amazing swimming pool in my neighborhood

this past wednesday, we had a ward party at an amazing [and coveted] swimming pool in my neighborhood [exhibit a]. i'd been there once before and was really excited to visit again.

exhibit b: look how freaking rad this place is ...!

it was way fun [exhibit b]. i played volleyball, went down the slide, did the hot tub thing, ate some treats, chatted with friends…life was good. after the sun went down, a few friends were leaving and i ran over to say goodbye to them before they headed out, only to [literally] run into my friend steven, who turned me right around and led me up the stairs to the slide/cliff area. i protested, trying to explain the urgency of where i was going. he wouldn't have it. so i let him push me up the stairs, ready to slide down again. that's when i realized: he wasn't leading me to the slide; he was leading me to the cliff. 

now, granted, this wasn't by any means a large cliff. it wasn't even a real one. but it was a large piece of rock with a tiny waterfall and lots of water underneath and some air in between. as soon as i realized what his intention was, i panicked and immediately fought against him. after a minute i knew it was fruitless, but i fought anyway. the more i struggled, the more he firmly disallowed me to get out of this situation.

soon, everyone else realized what was going on; steven was trying to get me to jump off the edge and i wasn't going to do it. so, of course, everyone else started encouraging me as well, and soon the people on the cliff, the people in the pool, the people on land and the people in the hot tub were yelling for me to jump and chanting my name. so...like, everyone was watching.

oh, perfect. now my pride was on the line and i felt like i was one year old, learning how to walk with people coaxing me to do it because they'd been walking their whole lives and it was oh-so-easy. i think the majority of them thought i was scared to jump. i wasn't scared to jump at all. heights don't bother me, i love speed and i have known how to jump my whole life. it's just that…

i can't swim.

if you're confused yet, refer to this so very super-helpful diagram.

i never learned as a kid. so i made it to my twenty-somethings and haven't learned how to dog paddle….so sue me. but either way…that was kind of an issue. i've been learning this summer, but i had yet to really test my skill in water where i couldn't actually touch the ground, much less jump off a cliff in front of everyone to test that novel idea. i plead with steven, who still had a firm grasp on me, "no, steve -- you don't get it. like, i really --i really-- can't swim!" he protested right back, "i don't care, just do it! you'll be fine! just walk to the edge with me." "no-- but like, really! steven, i literally don't know what to do when i get in the water!" my words fell on deaf ears and i was kind of useless fighting against him. 

i really didn't have an option. so i let him lead me to the cliff and looked down. 

yup. lots of water.

ironically, i likely would have jumped sooner if everyone wasn't watching me and egging me on because it would have been far less pressure. it was angela who helped me most at that point. oh, bless that girl. amidst everyone yelling, she came to stand next to me and softly told me, "look, you really don't have to do it if you don't want to. you can walk away and that's perfectly fine. but if you do go, i'll jump with you." then she promptly shoved steven off the cliff (of course he was fine) and proceeded to instruct me how to, well, jump off the ledge and what to do in the water. after her instruction, i felt much better. 

so, as i tried to ignore everyone watching, she counted: "1…2…..3…..JUMP!" --- and we leapt into the darkness.

as i plunged into the water, it took a minute to remember what i'd been taught. i broke the surface but couldn't quite, well, swim. as soon as i came up, i felt that someone had a firm grasp on my arm, and heard a gentle voice say, "kristin, i'm here. i've got ya." i've never thought of my tall, crazy party friend patrick's familiar voice as "gentle" before, but it was now, and i felt so much relief when i heard him say this. i was surprised how much better i felt after hearing that. it wasn't mocking or demeaning; it was a genuine assurance. he helped me get my bearings and got me to where i could touch the ground while everyone cheered.

i ended up jumping again, this time with angela's boyfriend ned assisting me after the plunge. i think i was more used to it the second time, but still needed his assistance. 

and the whole experience felt...good. 

...

as we do around here at warm fuzzies, this idea was sort of accidentally made into something more the morning after the experience when i wasn't really trying to think. but it's actually kind of cool because it's the same concept i've been pondering for a good long while now, and it's an idea that has resurfaced in many conversations i've had, talks i've read, and especially in the combined priesthood/relief society lesson that i taught only a week ago. 

while i based a lot of that lesson off of this article (which i HIGHLY recommend), it was interesting to *experience* the same type of connection with swimming: to first learn intellectually, then experientially. 

here's the connection. if you know me, it may be fairly obvious:

often times in life, we feel we are being pushed to the edge of a cliff. we tell God, "no, really. i legitimately don't know how to swim. like, REALLY. i've practiced a bit in shallow water, but i have no idea what to do when i get down there." and our pleas seem to fall on deaf ears. "um, WHAT am i getting into? i really can't swim!" and sometimes, there's that option not to jump. but sitting there on the ledge won't help the situation any. going back just seems…anticlimactic. and there are some cliffs we just decide we have to jump, regardless of whether it's God, our own choices, natural circumstance, or others pushing us to do so.

and so, on the count of three, we push off the edge and launch into the air -- it's a rush regardless of swimming ability. but for us non-swimmers, i feel it's a tad more…terrifying? because, well, this is new territory. and while we're airborne, there's no turning back and no one is able to help because the commitment has been made. though we have friends who have jumped before, and some who can even jump with us, there is that moment when we're in the air and it's just us.

but the great thing is, there is help at the end. when we get down to the bottom and and try to resurface, as unfamiliar as that may feel, someone pulls us up and says, "it's okay, i've got you." --in the most familiar, non-judgemental and loving way possible.

i don't think i was scared of drowning; i was worried at looking like a fool necessitating someone to rescue me, or of floundering and struggling with everyone watching. steven very well knew that i could jump off the cliff and be fine, and he, along with patrick, ned and everyone else there, could have easily jumped in and saved me. angela knew that i could do it and she was so good to calmly explain how to do it amidst the distracting noise that everyone else was making (with the best of intentions). but i didn't know i could do it. because i hadn't ever done it before. literally, uncharted waters. 

boyd k. packer said, "rules and regulations and commandments are valuable protection. if we need instruction to alter our course, it will be waiting along the way as we arrive at the point of need."

help will be waiting along the way, when we need it, not when we think we need it. 

i didn't need help physically jumping off like i thought i did or even when i was still under the surface of the water -- i needed help after i struggled for a bit on my own and finally emerged. 

help will be waiting along the way …when we need it. not when we think we need it. we have to understand that we might struggle. we may look like a fool. we'll probably flounder. and that's okay. we came to this life to learn, and we most often learn by experience. our pleas are not falling on deaf ears; we are just helped when we truly need it, not when we think we do.

granted, i did my best. and after doing all i could do, i was rescued. (sound familiar?) looking back, there really was help all around me. but my pride, fear, and hesitation to jump kept me from trusting in it. as soon as i learned to trust that, i just had to move my feet....

yeah. you can take that wherever it goes in your head or your life.

...

*i know that this wonderful article talks almost of an identical experience and concept, but in the end, my experience is mine because it happened to me. therefore, to draw my own connections experientially is really meaningful. 

and i promise that the next post will be super full of pictures, and lots less words. :)

to feel

this is far more transparent than my usual writings because i'm just now coming out of the moment. please know that i'm fine. i will be gloriously happy soon; happiness always comes back to those who seek it, especially when one puts their trust in God. but there are moments of pain in life, and i need to let this brief one out for once. it's by far NOT the hardest moment i've faced in these last months, but there is nothing else i feel like i can do right now. so i have to let it out. 

if i was planning to write about anything tonight, it would have been about the two amazing concerts i attended this week, one of which i experienced less than a mere two hours ago. but upon arriving home, i got hit with a something --a spot of bad news-- that brought down many little somethings very hard in my mind and it just about paralyzed me for a good few minutes. rather, i thought it should paralyze me. 

but to my own astonishment, i pulled out some bread, cut and ate it, and drank some milk. because i didn't know what else to do. then i was almost appalled at myself for not reacting how i thought i should to the news i just heard. a tad panicked, i texted a couple friends -- just trying to reach out to know some physical person was there and to make sure that i could still feel, i guess. one friend called me and put a fascinating perspective on the sudden pain and fear i felt. in talking with her, suddenly my numbness wore off and so many feelings just raced through me; some are still in my body now--

fear. pain. sadness. insecurity. stress. pressure. despair. guilt.

but here are some of her thoughts: 

you're experiencing a very amazing human moment right now. seize it!

watching someone's passion is just as intriguing and compelling as watching someone's pain. 

you can't just be one thing all the time; let yourself ebb and flow. sometimes, it's okay not to feel at all, as long as you don't hold it in.

it's instances like these that allow us a glimpse of a whole world in one moment.

this is an awesome moment. you're human. you're alive. you feel hurt for other people as well as yourself. emotions are so much better than just floating on the surface. this is it...this is life.

there are times when i feel nothing and it's horrible and life seems so pointless. that's the worst. it is a gift: to have these moments feel. to feel alive. 

take some of the weight of the world off your shoulders, for once. you can be the "needy" one sometimes too, to let others help you and help those whom you can't be there for.

with glimpses into the deepest and most powerful emotions, it is obvious that there is nothing more divine than the human.

again, i feel almost foolish for posting this, especially because i've certainly experienced far more pain and suffering in the last few months than i feel tonight, but i suppose that is why i could write about it more bluntly this time.

i KNOW that things will work out. but for a brief moment, i felt (i feel) very, well, human. very vulnerable. and very unsure. i was grateful that this friend reminded that it's both a gift and miracle to feel.

d&c 101:16

first class

from my travel journal-- tuesday, march 15, 2011. i scribbled this down on the plane around 7:35pm. 
between then and now, parts of my life have changed almost drastically while others have somehow stayed almost annoyingly the same. so, for what it's worth posting now, here you go~ 

on the plane. 

slowly starting down the runway. it just stopped.

first class turns out to be awesome. after the pilot and i exchanged a brian regan quote about first class and the lady took my jacket to hang on the coat rack, i noticed the mini water bottles, blankets and pillows. i thought to myself, yeah. this is gonna be a good flight.

i'm somehow sort of glad no one is sitting next to me so i can be solo one last time before i come back to-- the chaos, mess, business, productivity, stress, and responsibility (all good and bad) that is my life --to gather my thoughts and process them alone.

review, remember. looking over the last week and a half (has it only been that long?) is a blur. seems like it's been a lifetime, and here's why: i have quite unintentionally blended together my new york summer and my new york break 9 months later--and somehow stitched them together with lots of different emotions. 

everything in those 9 months between the two trips, i'm scared, will now be stitched together by the daily life i have to look forward to upon coming home, and new york will thus be sewn completely out of my thoughts.

i hope not.

i'm going to fight to keep them there so i can channel some of the life of that, what, 8 week-- experience? and all the inspiration, realization, actualization, growth, wonder, rush, frusration, feeling small, feeling big, and confusion that is MY new york experience.

plane is finally moving again, faster this time. 

no one else can take my experience there away from me or duplicate it; it is mine and mine alone. i feel i handle things better -- i process all that input better there because it was -- is -- my adventure.

plane paused again. yess! -- 

yes? part of me wants to stay; the rest of me knows i have to go back home.

as if it could hear my thoughts -- the plane's engine started its slow rumble and has resumed creeping down the runway....

ugh, why can't i function at home as well as i do in new york? maybe it's the charm, energy and friction of new york that i need to take home with me. others may think -- 8 weeks. c'mon, it's not that long.

no, i suppose not.

but if one moment can change one's life -- and it can -- then i'm pretty sure my 8 weeks so far there have had lots of little moments that have vastly impacted me.

i can hear the engine really rev up. 

it's like, "um...k, kristin. i've given you time to philosophize; now it's time i take you back. you ready? cuzz......eeeveryone else is waiting on you."

yeah. seems to happen a lot in my life lately. sorry, planebuddy...just trying to figure things out before i left this place again. guess, like always, i'll just have to start flying and figure it out on the way. i'm ready....

plane holga (unintentionally creepy)

the plane seems to tease me. only now that i say i'm ready, its heightened sound isn't matching its actual speed. it just rounded a bend, nonchalantly rolling over more of the rocky runway.

still, same speed. for some reason i'm getting anxious to be in the air - the unknown where you can't even see a solid foundation.

just snapped a picture out the window with miss holga. the plane stopped. and now...it's going.

faster, faster.

holding miss holga tight. bumpy. flashing lights. i barely notice i'm in the air when i see the skyline outside the window tilt. i am pushed into the cushy, wide chair as i watch the perfect rows of lights down below get hazy with the clouds that separate us and the city.

peace out, ny. we'll meet again. 

regardless of my feelings, i'm headed home. 


at least i'm coming home first class.

...

ps, sometimes purging my thoughts in such a conceptual manner exhausts me, but it's the way that they come out of my head so effortlessly and seep into my pen and onto my paper. and so, it must be done.

pps. i later discovered warm towels, big pockets in the seats in front of me, nicer pull-out trays, and a full 4-course complimentary meal. didn't get the head of a pig, but in the end, i still felt pretty fantastic about being on the other side of that mysterious first-class curtain. 

a photo for your monday

hi.

i tend to write posts with layers of meaning, but not this time.

i just wanted to show you this neat baby mutant carrot i found earlier today in my tiny carrot bag.

it was the last one.

oh, and i guess i wanted to say that it's hard holding and focusing a camera with one hand, taking a picture of the other hand. but it can be done.

and...when times get bad, it's a nice thought: "well, at least i'm not a mutant carrot."

...that's all.

enjoy your monday!