Event Will Go On-Rain or Shine

This morning I was thinking about 2 events that went on-rain or shine.  One was the Chalk the Block event held at the Provo Riverwoods;  the other a planned outdoor wedding up at a Sundance cabin for my fellow RT and office mate.  Both events could not be "rained out" or re-scheduled-even if they were happening in less than ideal autumn weather.  I referenced both of these events for my group yesterday about managing disappointments.  I asked the kids how they would go on if their dreams and plans were doused and drenched by forces they could not control.  I had them consider what types of rain storms blow through their life dampening their spirits and how they cope.

Though I'm sure the Chalk the Block artists are inspirational every year, interviewing the die-hards provided powerful examples of resilience.  These artists-many high school and college students had spent hours, even days on their pastel chalk drawings only to see their labors washed away by the rain. They came prepared to protect their art with tarps, duct tape, tents, canopies, leaf blowers, brooms-anything-as they labored to salvage their drawings...yet the rain kept coming. It didn't seem to let up-it kept pooling up, seeping under the protective coverings. It was perfectly understandable how some of these artists quit and went home.  However, it more surprising to see all the artists that literally went "back to the drawing board" to do their artwork over and over again.  Some reported going to their cars, crying, letting it all out, regrouping, and returning to their parking space to start again.  They were cold, haggard, and worn out physically and emotionally. How do you find the strength to keep going when things don't seem to let up?

By the time our students were touring the artwork, the rain had stopped.  The artists were making progress painstakingly redoing their work.  When asking the kids to consider what they had learned, they reported being inspired by the patience, persistence, and passion of these artists.  They saw examples of people who cried then tried again, who were passionate about art-who are driven to create-getting in the zone to work 11 hours straight; who honored loved ones and their memories by depicting them in their art, who shared a part of themselves and what's important to them to make the world a more beautiful place-if only for a brief moment.

As we drove back to campus I pointed out the sun shining through the clouds and how in a half hour, our RT would get her outside wedding.  It wouldn't be perfect-but it wouldn't be raining. It would be held in the forest, not in a tent.  Though she had been so anxious about her perfectly planned event being ruined-she had gotten her break. As I drove up and drank in the spectacular sunset and autumn colors, I couldn't help think the green, yellow, orange, and red leaves seemed more vibrant after the storm-how the sunset was particularly dramatic as it danced off the clouds.  I parked the car and made it to  the dance floor to witness my sweet co-worker like a fairy princess in her fairy like forest kingdom.  She looked absolutely stunning surrounded by her friends and family.  I cried.  I was happy to capture the image in my heart.  She was as inspirational as those chalk artists.  It was just what I needed.

The turn in the weather seemed to mimic my own depressed mood.  I was so sad this week. Like the gloomy clouds, colder temperatures, and incessant rainfall, I too was crying-not because I was spiritually moved, but because I was sad.  So sad and disappointed.  Sad for personal failures with work, home, and church, sad for my circumstances, sad for my children's heartaches, sad about other people's choices as well as my own.  Sad and unmotivated to keep going. I felt like canceling everything and staying in bed, and doing nothing-it's a rain out.

When a car accidently clipped me this week while riding my bike and kept on driving without noticing, I burst into tears like the crying clouds above me. It seemed to represented exactly how I felt lately-invisible, alone, bent out of shape, stopped in my tracks, aimless, out of place and beat up. Yet just when I feel like the rain is never going to let up, something reminds me that the sun eventually breaks through the clouds-the rain stops just enough to finish crying, dust myself off, and get back to work-even if it's redoing my artwork-my lifework for the upteenth time.  There will be those perfect autumn days when everything seems right and I'm soaring with the hawks while riding the zip line at Sundance but I realize that weather can change rapidly.  Each day is my main event and it will go on-rain or shine.

100th post-Why I write

This morning I was thinking about my reasons for writing this blog, especially since this is my 100th posting.  What am I trying to accomplish?  What's my purpose?  Does this blog serve anyone? What's my motivation?   Does anyone even care what I have to say?  Why do I care?  Am I only an attention seeking narcissist?

 First of all, writers write.  I once had a friend who encouraged me go ahead and label myself as an artist, a musician or writer instead of waiting around until I was published, publically recognized or being paid for my work.  Being full of self-doubt, I waited for validation from other people to give that label to me after my works merited it.  However, I've learned the most important things I have done in life, I've usually done for free.  I'm the one doing the paying.  It's part of my life mission-a personal calling, if you will.  Regardless, she told me to-wear the label-own it-do it.  I feel compelled to create and feel joy as I share my expression with others.  My best art usually happens when I am creating to serve others instead of feeding my ego.  I can certainly tell when my work is missing the spark of inspiration.

I started writing after being released as a Relief Society teacher and wanted to continue taking time to think deeply about things, make connections, and discover and express truths. It's my own search for meaning.  It's also my way of adding my witness to the truths found in gospel of Jesus Christ-my little book of Erin.  All things testify of Christ and Heavenly Father's plan for our happiness.  The more I look for the connections, the more I see them.  Everything becomes symbolic. Everything becomes an opportunity for experiential  learning.  The gospel is the lense by which I view my world.  My daughter would argue my blog relies heavily on my boy crazy, "search for love" lense.  Nevertheless, relationships are central to God's plan as well. Our brain is designed for human connection and the development of empathy one of our highest aims.

I also used to write a post of "Weekly Blessings" on my facebook feed.  It was an exercise to notice that hand of the Lord in my daily life.  I could just as easily have done a weekly paragraph of my "Latest Horrible Things About My Life."  However, noting the good things in my world helps me keep a positive focus.  It fuels my drive for life instead of feeling depleted of resources- running on empty, instead of full. It's a great habit I want to reinforce and continue.  I have shifted this practice to my private journal though I do think there is value in a public declaration of the goodness of our God.

 And then there is the attention piece. I'm comfortable in the limelight-in front of the crowd.  Give me a empty stage and I'll dance across it.  Give me a mic and I'll use my most dramatic voice. Who doesn't want to be a star?  Who doesn't want people to like them?   I guess there are lots of meek, humble people who cringe at the thought of receiving any personal attention.  That's not me, though I appreciate their selfless examples.  For me, it's trying to use that attention to increase personal influence for good.  We can get attention and then turn that attention to the person in the big spotlight-The Savior.  I write because I want to seek for light and truth and encourage others to do likewise.

Does anyone even care what I have to say?  I know I sometimes get caught up in caring too much what others think.  Yet I know, most of the time, people are thinking about themselves-they're not thinking about me or what I wrote.  Being self-conscious is a waste of time because I'm just not that important.  I'm preoccupied with myself.  Which is easy to understand since I'm with myself 24/7.   In my mind, I see some secret someone reading my blog and really "getting me" and then really "getting it" Whatever it is.   I'm still going to explore and continue my writing for whatever reason.