Monday, June 4, 2018

Keep Utah Wild


Two years ago I wrote on this blog about how my best friend/next door neighbor Janna was moving to Coasta Rica for two years and this also meant that Anson's best friend Asher moved too.

Guess what? It's been two years.

When you grow up Mormon you have a very keen sense of how fast/slow two years can pass by. All Mormon males (who are "worthy") go on two-year LDS missions. That means you wait for your brothers, friends, boyfriends for two years. A lot happens in two years. Then again, not a lot happens in two years.

Time is weird. It's the weirdest thing in this universe.

I listened to Echkart Tolle's New Earth this morning where he piles up his profundity on time. What is that guy even talking about? I consider myself an average intelligent human being and I am like how is this book a best seller? Who reads this? I mean, I know, Oprah but I figure she can afford tutors--even Eckhart himself.

But what I do understand from New Earth is that what matter is now. Right now. Right now my best friend and Anson's best friend are somewhere in between planes, trains and automobiles working their way home. And right now, I am excited for me and Anson. A little sad for our best friends, having to leave a jungle paradise, the most bio-diverse country in the world, to come home to the desert.

You know, people are always asking me if I would leave Utah. And yes I would. Of course. But first of all, when I even see pictures of the Utah desert I cry. I cried at the ending of Letterman's Netflix special with Howard Stern (don't judge). I sobbed. Christopher found me and thought someone had died. But no, just me crying over how intensely beautiful my home state is. I also get over-emotional when I see nature-scapes on screen savers, because a lot of those fantastic photographs depict the mysterious and wondrous land of Utah. And so, I am forced to admit I would miss that arid expanse something awful. I don't think I would ever recover.

Also, I live next door to my best friend, and Anson's best friend.

Which reminds me, time can be lonely too. For me and Anson, we've felt a bit robbed of joy this past couple years. I'll be happy to have that hole in my heart filled again. Growing up Mormon you also learn to understand quite keenly what it means to miss someone fiercely for two years. Your life settles into a sense of normality, while your heart doesn't completely follow.

But as for now--right now--Eckhart will be glad to know that I feel very happy. Very happy to be where I am, and have a life filled full of people I miss when they leave, and live in a state that is so alluring and awesome in physicality, but also in cultural uniqueness.




Stay wild!