Monday, May 20, 2013

Daughter of Eve

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I sat at the temple this morning mulling over my personal inventory.

How am I doing?

I have been feeling sadness and (of course) anger a lot this past week. It seemed almost anything could set me whirling into shame and disconnect. As I work through the 12 Step program I am learning my disconnect comes from not wanting to feel feelings. Even happy feelings I've tried to escape. Feeling anything at all can be difficult sometimes.

Those things I used to lather myself in for the thrill of happiness just don't do it for me anymore. Certainly, there are little drops of joy in what I used to relish in--the colors in my house, new clothes, parties--but it's so far diminished from what it used to be. Happiness for me now begs for more than what is pretty or perfect.

It's imperfection that is beautiful to me now. I find myself buying into it more and more. Imperfection is the story of Christianity. It's the taking up of the cross. For centuries Christians have told stories of weakness and work, of overcoming great personal obstacles and broken relationships. Their imperfections told their stories. Why would my story be different?

The more I try to develop a relationship with God, the more I am aware of my pride and lust, my worshiping of idols and denial of truth. I know of my desire to be desirable, to have everything I want to have, to be just a little bit better than someone else.

But then, while gathering in my confessions and awareness, I have a moment where God transforms the worst of my vices into strengths. When my vanity turns from despair into a sweeping love for myself, I know I am seeing myself as God sees me. And in that moment I derive power from the idea of helping someone else swim in that sentiment too. Oh. Oh. Oh happiness.

Happiness beyond purchase and beyond colors and born from grief.


Thursday, May 16, 2013

Provo 5

Five things about Provo today.

1. The Blue Aces Need Our Help!
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Last Friday the fabulous teen rock band The Blue Aces lit up the RCS stage and now they are fighting for a place on the Stadium of Fire stage with Kelly Clarkson and Carly Rae Jepsen. Please help us wherever you are by voting for them here. (You can vote by facebook, gigg and twitter once a day!)

2. My New Favorite Hashtag On Instagram!
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Stunning views of Our Lady Timpanogos fill up the page--Timp shrouded with clouds, Timp pink and purple at sunset, Timp and the disappearing snowy top. Check out #timpstagram.
Also, feel free to use the #iloveprovo to show your love of Ptown on Instagram.

3. The Beehive Bazaar Second Weekend!
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Any BB aficionado knows one weekend is never enough for the Beehive. This season's owners Noelle, Beccy (modeling above) and Richard invited some of Utah's most popular artists to sell their art at incredibly reduced prices (Kershisnik, Richards, Connolly to name drop a few...). Along with the usual highly-creative and inventive crafts, you can also find delicious baked goods and skin products for sale. If you missed last week, you have no excuse to miss this weekend!
At the Riverwoods, see TheBeehiveBazzar.com.
p.s. Ever's Vintage Fern dress below was picked up at the Beehive last weekend. We live in these dresses (both my girls) and are going on sale this weekend. Only $18. Check them out when you go.
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4. Jay William Henderson
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Last night Chup and I went to Velour to see the warm up act for this June's Rooftop Concert--Jay William Henderson. He was incredibly mesmorizing. If you like beautiful, haunting and soul-tugging singing and songwriting, check out his album here (you can listen online). I very much recommend.

5. The National Parks New Video
The dynamic Indie-Americana Provo band (also, on the Rooftops in July) came out with a video this week. Would you like to see it? Of course you would because it's good music:



See you around town!
C. Jane

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Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Come See GIRL RISING

Utah County,

My sister Page and her husband Vance are hosting a screening of GIRL RISING a film about how education can change a girl and ultimately change the world. The date is June 10th at the Water Gardens Spanish Fork 8 in Spanish Fork and tickets are $10. I haven't seen it yet, but Page and her three oldest daughters (Olivia 18, Emma 16, Cynthia 14) and (sister) Lucy and her husband Andrew (are you keeping these names straight?) have seen it at past screenings and say it's very powerful. Right after her screening Lucy texted me:
It was a huge awakening. I'm so grateful I can choose which preschool to send my daughter to without a blink of an eye. I want her to have every opportunity. I also felt so much sadness that I had the opportunity for education and didn't take advantage of it. Not yet anyway...
So, here's an invitation to come. Because of the way these screening are set up, we need 55 tickets to sell before it's a sure thing.
You read more about it and buy tickets here.
Here's the trailer. Stop crying you baby.






Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Pink Afternoon

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Ever has a gift of luminescence. She can light up a room, a soul, a long car ride to Idaho. She can sing you a song on the spot (lyrics and tune, by her) and can do a you a dance if you request. And she's pretty funny and clever--smart and quick. Her favorite show to watch is Rescue Bots. She likes to nap in the backyard on a soft blanket and a pillow (she has to have a pillow) and she loves to eat fries. Her charm can win almost anyone over to her side. She likes to swing high (towards the moon) at the park, go for rides on her red motorcycle, read books about bears and build towers with wood blocks. Her dramatic brown eyes seem to pop when she wears black, brown, lavender and white. But mostly black because that's the color that turns those eyes into weapons of mass persuasion.

On Saturday my Ever was invited to a princess birthday party. When the invitation arrived at our door a week earlier, I was a little concerned Ever wouldn't want to dress up like a princess. She's much more inclined to dress up like a masked ninja or a scowling witch. But Saturday afternoon when I told her the party was going to start soon, she picked through the dress-up box and came up the stairs with a pink puffy frock in hand. We put it on, completed it with a string of pearls and a hot pink head piece. I turned her towards the mirror and said, "Look Ev! You're a princess!" I thought she was going to melt with happiness. If we weren't running behind already, she would've stared at her pink being in the hallway mirror for the better part of the afternoon.

She kept giggling. Her little hands cupping her mouth. Giggling.

She felt pretty.

I watched as she headed out the door with Daddy, skipping down the street and around the corner in her multicolored sandals. Her confidence bounced like the hot pink head piece on top of her head. Life would never be so wonderful as Ever Jane's afternoon as a princess.

And hours later, when the party was over she came home--hot pink head piece in hand, newly coronated with a silver paper crown--and took it all off in favor of her flannel footed jammies with the penguins. (Those are her favorite.)

Please, let her feel pretty all the days of her life.

Is that too much to ask?

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Monday, May 13, 2013

Oh My Mother

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It's Mother's Day.

I woke up to lilacs on the dinning table and Ever Jane's downy hair covering her morning face. We had buttermilk waffles with grade B maple syrup and daddy scrubbed each child clean in the green tub with the ginger soap. Like factory workers on an assembly line, as soon as the kids were cleaned by dad, I plucked them out of the tub with a dry, white towel and dressed them in their church clothes. Anson looked handsome with in his bicycle tie and Jay Gatsby hair. Ever and Erin were topped with bows--white for Ever's rosebud dress I passed down to her, and for Erin, pink to match her ruffled shoes.

We walked to church in the sunshine and into the chapel where there was holiday excitement. The bishop had to talk over the chatty congregation who didn't shush when the organ stopped playing. The meeting opened with song and prayer leading us all to the sacrament. After that, the Mother's Day talks started from an assortment of speakers--teenagers, mothers, husbands, grandfathers. One talk in particular meant a lot to me, from the first counselor in our bishopric. It was a talk about "the doctrine of motherhood" which started after a brief explanation and continued with all the quotes the church has ever published about our Heavenly Mother. From leaders in our pioneer past to recent prophets of the church, these quotes solidified the belief that we are children of Heavenly Parents--both a father and a mother. He ended properly with the reading of Eliza R. Snow's Oh My Father:
I had learned to call thee Father, Through thy Spirit from on high,
But until the key of knowledge Was restored, I knew not why.
In the heavens are parents single? No, the thought makes reason stare!
Truth is reason, truth eternal Tells me I've a mother there.
After church I put my pink cheeked baby down for a nap. Today was her first day of nursery and she braved it like the other two siblings before her. Ever hands me a Mother's Day card she made in her class. It asks, "My mommy makes great____" to which Ever responded "kiwi." (Someday I'll pass down the recipe.) And Anson begs to watch the last of "Jimmy John Jones" from last night's Family Movie Night (which is really Indiana Jones but how can you correct him?). I am bushed from cleaning the entire house top to bottom the day before and when all the whole house goes quiet with nappers and viewers, I found my lawn chair in the back lawn to sleep in the sunshine for a turn.

I woke up after a few minutes, peacefully realizing I had an essay to write. The quotes from the Mother's Day sermon still in my head, I am writing now in this impossibly quiet house. Here's what I want to say:

Martha is a woman superior to me in spiritual intellect. I sat across from her at lunch a couple months ago. She spilled from her soul many insights into the female divine of our shared religious past. She looked at me with burning eyes, almost searching to see if I could understand her offerings. I understood. Her words were like a pick--digging at my heart frozen and encompassed by ice. The more she spoke truth to me, the more my heart could pump, until it started to bounce out of the ice, melting it completely.

My Mother in Heaven is a constant in my life, she whispers truth to me. She enlightens my mind. She tells me about her son Jesus Christ and urges me to ask my Father in Heaven for the things I need. In fact, she does what Parley P. Pratt describes about the Holy Ghost in this quote,

...quickens all the intellectual faculties, increases, enlarges, expands and purifies all the natural passions and affections; and adapts them, by the gift of wisdom, to their lawful use. [She] inspires, develops, cultivates and matures all the fine-toned sympathies, joys, tastes, kindred feelings and affections of our nature. [She] inspires virtue, kindness, goodness, tenderness, gentleness and charity. [She] develops beauty of person, form and features.[She] tends to health, vigor, animation and social feeling.[She] invigorates all the faculties of the physical and intellectual man. [She] strengthens, and gives tone to the nerves. In short, it is, as it were, marrow to the bone, joy to the heart, light to the eyes, music to the ears, and life to the whole being.

When I think about my Heavenly Mother as the Holy Ghost, that once-frozen heart of mine soars. I feel like I could fly and float. I am happy to the point of utter joy. The nerves in my body vibrate and my head fills full of light. I want to cry and scream out and get on my knees and feel gratitude and humility all at once. And I know my body cannot lie. When it hears truth it cannot resist feeling this way. And so, because God talks to me through my body and my emotions, I have to ask myself, what if this were true? What if the very first concept of faith in the gospel contains truth about my Mother as well as my Father and my brother Jesus Christ?

This is not doctrine of my church. In most cases, we call the Holy Ghost a He. We talk about how the Holy Ghost has a body of spirit. In reality, we don't know much about the body of the Holy Ghost--and this serves to bring me closer to this concept. We also don't know much about our own bodies as women. In fact, women are lost on their bodies--ever trying to manipulate and change them, hoping to find peace. It's possible to me, the more we know about the abilities and power of the Holy Ghost's body the more women will understand their own glorious bodies--meant to nurture and birth, cycle and serve.

And maybe this was a doctrine for the women of the church to receive and reveal? I don't know. But I do know how good it has felt to embrace this, a Godhead that is family--Father, Mother, son. And maybe like Martha, I can carry this idea (this, What if?) on to the next person who can take it in and let it burn and consume their existence as well. When we are ready, there is a lot to feel about the gospel. A lot to discover and ask, "How does this feel?"

Happy Mother's Day.