Head Tenants: Miss Frank

Do you ever start talking and then realize that everyone in the room is giving you far more attention than anyone else has received...and perhaps more than you should be given? Have you realized that your audience reacts with gasps and enthusiastic laughter-to something you actually meant to be a rather serious thought? Have you ever then realized that it is because what you are saying should really not be said in the company to which you are narrating it?

This is a frequent occurance for me. And not quite a pleasant one. But you know, it is not completely my fault.

There is another head tenant, you see. One with whome I am sure some of you are intimately familiar, but who I have failed to mention so far.

Her name is Miss Frank. She has an opinion on everything, and feels absolutely no compunction to silence when that opinion is offensive, misdirected or even downright ridiculous. So, listening to this woman as a third party in most conversations and all lectures and intellectually inspiring speeches, naturally makes me forget that others have not heard her...and consequently when her shoking words come out of my mouth I become the full recipiant of every appalled (and generally highly entertained) listener's rebuttals, sarcastic remarks, teasing and of course, hilaric laughter.

She has most certainly caused some of the most embarrassing scenes in my life.

For example, when she doesn't understand something she hears, she will insist upon knowing its meaning. Even if it sounds like the definition could be something highly inappropriate. Even if I am in a classroom full of people who obviously know what the word means, and are made uncomfortable at its mention. College lectures were one of her most inspired scenes of devastation. However, no experience truly conquers the time she demanded that I know the meaning of the word circumcision, in a classroom full of highschool freshman. And kept demanding, despite the teachers assurances that she could explain to me later, that I draw out an explanation.

Another of her most infamous tricks is to spit out my opinion on a person before I have fully discovered their character. This inevitably leads to horrible regret. But occasionally, very occasionally, it can get me out of sticky situations in quite a jiffy. I once began a friendship with the friend of a roommate online. I would talk to this boy sometimes for several hours a week, and we grew to like each other rather quickly. He became determined to meet me. Which would have cost him quite a pretty penny, since he lived in Missouri and I in Rexburg, Idaho at the time. He started talking very seriously about a relationship. Miss Frank was terrified. This boy was not mormon. A relationship with him could never really be possible. But for a while she held back her opinion. Then one day he sent me a picture of himself. Oh yes. I'm serious. He then asked my frank opinion. Well-he did ask. Miss Frank told him without my permission that he was rather homely and should definitely shave that scraggly young man beard...but that it didn't matter any way as I could not be attracted to him because he could not be my eternal companion and a relationship would be superfluous. The not-really-existant relationship was then permanently terminated. As you can imagine.

She gives me a lot of cause to repent.

Today she out did even herself however, because I didn't even see it coming. I was proud of myself for actually speaking up in Relief Society in fact (where I am usually quiet and shy-feeling as though I am a mouse in a room of spiritual giants) when she opened her obsidious maw and let out the first thing that came to her socially inept mind.

The lesson was beautiful. It was on how we should treat our spouses and children (and for us of the younger generation, it was a consideration of future relationships, and a look into the manner in which our parents have to have picked up some of their favorite punishments in years past). Everyone shared comments about ways they honored their husbands and ways their husbands glorified them, how they maintained peace in their homes with kind, loving children who never fought.

Miss Frank said to me, "You should say something encouraging, so that the others who are sitting here going 'uh, my children fight all the time, does that make me a horrible mother?' maintain some hope for the future and realize that total home peace is really a non-reality in most situations."

"How would I do that?" I asked.

"Well, you turned out alright didn't you? And growing up in our house was not always a picnic, I remember...share some of the craziness and how your parents solved it!"

"Ok!" I answered, excited. "This will be grand!"

I raised my hand. Before I knew what had happened, Miss Frank was talking for me.

"I would just like to say, there were times in my home growing up that were absolute craziness. There was tons of contention." Imagine now the looks of horror on the Relief Society Presidency's faces. "I remember me and Bri used to tie Traci up in chairs." Now hear the entire room errupt in whispers, a few titters, and a loud half-whisper from the front saying 'Poor Traci!' At this comment I began to realize that perhaps Miss Frank was being just a little too frank. "So my dad came up with a wonderful punishment," I continued, smiling, "every time we thought a negative thought about somebody, or said something hurtful, we then had to come up with 10 wonderful compliments to say to that person." This is where I should have stopped, instead of revealing more of my inner home madness. "Then, we had to kiss their feet." The entire room explodes into laughter.

This is when Miss Frank loses her control over my person and the shy Maiden who usually takes over during Relief Society hours resumes her throne. She is, of course, horrified at Miss Franks behavior and freezes with absolute embarassment, turning me red to the hairline.

Luckily the speaker saved me and quickly adressed another person, changing the subject.

Is there any hope for muffling this mortifying woman inside me?

A Glimpse

This entry is pretty much for Bri-nana. You commented about some lines of a poem that I put as my status the other day, so I thought I'd post the whole thing for you to read. I'll warn you now though, it's not going to make you happy. Don't read this if you're already sad. In fact, to cheer you up after I'm also going to include a song that I wrote in High School, that I don't think I ever sang to you. Obviously I can't sing it to you now, but maybe I will when you get home. It's very touching though. I had forgotten about it and ran into it while I was reading old poems...it made me and mama cry-but in a good way :) So to start I'll post an old note that you appreciated, which seems rather appropriate for this entry ;)
*Sorry, it wont let me edit properly-so the verses run together :(

Glimpse

Writing to you seems like a dream.

Conversing with one who makes no response,

But gives as much back as I give.

A log of life, of time, of memory.

A dream of a memory of a dream.

The cycle of my dreamer's state.

Pages that mean life, love, despair and hope,

Stories of jokes of emotions,

A record that reaches my spirit.

A thrum by the drum that's the beat of my heart.

Keep my treasure and from it never part,

For in this you glimpse my soul.

Now for the sad one, whose happier lines you read. Take a deep breath. Ready? Ok. Start.

LOSS

I had rather see your smile,

Than a thousand flowers dancing in the sun.

But my sun is gone now,

And the flowers shrivel, their dancing done.

I had rather hear your voice

Than the chimes of a thousand church bells.

But my bells are silent,

And the silence feels to me as death knells.

I had rather smell your scent

Than a thousand sweet perfumes.

But my incense dwindles,

And your scent is absent in these hollow rooms.

I had rather taste your kindness

Than the comfort of a thousand kindred.

But my kindred cry for me,

And by their empty words I am not fed.

I had rather feel your laughter

Than a thousand warming rays of light.

But my light is darkened

And the hard of the cold is as dark as the night.

I had rather know your spirit,

Than the wisdom of a thousand worlds.

But my world gives no wisdom

And the broken mind on agony curls.

I had rather have your heart

Than a thousand lives to live alone.

But I am alone now,

With nothing but old forgotten tomes.

Ok. Right. Depressing. I know. I'm sorry. I guess I was feeling very lonely, and maybe slightly empathetic toward a character I was writing. But now I'll try to add some sweet to the bitter with the old song :)

Lullaby From Heaven

Sleep now my baby,

For death holds no fear.

All shall be well in the end.

When slandered and broken

All trials you've been through

Atonement the Savior will lend.

The days will go quickly,

The years fly right by

...And my arms fail to hold you for a while.

But if faithful you hold out, forever endure,

Then ne'er shall they fail any more!

Peace now my child,

Still fear not decease.

Reunion will not be so far.

If patient, enduring and humble you stay,

Remain ever more as you are...

Then days will go quickly,

And years fly right by

...While my arms fail to hold you for a time...

Be still, Oh my child, push through til the end

And ne'er shall they fail any more!

Rest now, my darling,

With joy in your heart,

For we'll be together again.

Through trials that seem endless,

Keep whispering still,

My lullaby in your head.

So that days may go quickly,

And years fly right by,

Though my arms fail to hold you during life.

But serve Christ, our Savior,

Be strong and Be true!

And my arms ne'er shall fail any more!

Come now, my baby,

Run into my arms,

And know that you've ne'er been alone.

You've passed through all trials,

How much you've endured!

Now joy celestial is yours!

The days have gone quickly,

The years flew right by,

And now I can hold you once again.

So strong, and so faithful,

You were til the end!

Now we'll be together forever more!

See-that's a happy thought right? I think I meant it to be our Heavenly Mother singing to us... or perhaps a mother who died before she could raise her children here. Either way, I guess its a meloncholy sort of happiness.

Well, that's all for now. Just wanted to share those thoughts-they've been swirling around like bees stuck in my head for days. Maybe this will give them away to escape :)

I love you nana!

Welcoming in the Hollow Season

I keep getting in trouble for wanting to skip the entire space between Summer and Christmas.

Can you blame me for wanting to jump into the holidays so quickly? I mean, that would mean we wouldn't have to deal with this whole school thing (not that I do anyways), we'd all be together again and we'd get to eat yummy goodies all the time! What's so wrong with that? Plus-there's no music on earth to compare with Christmas music. Seriously. What else makes you feel that happy?

Anywho, I thought to put your minds at ease I would prove that I do actually enjoy the inbetween holidays, and honor them in my own special way. Starting with the one that's coming up in just a little while.

Vicious Villians and Gruesome Ghouls,

Creatures of Myth and Royal Fools,

Children who prance with grubby fat hands,

Be ye warned my friends: Halloween is at Hand!

That was just a fun introduction I made up for you. The real tribute is something I wrote around this time in 2006.

HOLLOW

A glaring face of firelight,

On every doorstep sits.

While children run around all night,

Where have they left their wits?

Insanity of every kind

In hidden eyes doth lurk.

In looking behind masks you'll find

Every person has their quirk,

Which to them this night doth bind,

From it, they cannot shirk.

The devils trickery is this

A 'respite' from the ever good.

Mis-takes are the devils kiss,

For it's with these he ever could

Seduce men into eternal night.

But men follow? Never they would,

If they were strong and longed for light.

image from SheridanInternational

Ok. So I lied. As evidenced, I hate halloween and everything it represents.

But on a more positive note, there is something that comes from dressing up and acting a different character from yourself. A sense of security that can help you to discover things you have been bottling up. Thus acting is such a wonderful thing. And writing, for that matter.

So I don't have a problem with the activites of the holiday so much as the ideas and intentions behind them. All Hallow's Eve was never meant to be a frightening experience or a game. I think turning the sacred holiday for the dead into a mockery of them is something commercialism will have to pay for in the end. I do not really honor this false Halloween and I do not appreciate the joke on the deceased. It's cruel and disgusting in my opinion.

This does not mean that I will not be handing out candy to the little children who come begging at my door or lecturing party-goers about their disrespect for the dead. No, I am not a crone. I will celebrate the holidays as I always do, with some concession to a costume, a trip to the church celebration and an indulgent smile as I fill the neighborhood's pillowcases with junk to rot their teeth. But do I enjoy it? No sir, I do not. Except perhaps, ironically, the pumpkin carving. That's good fun. But Honestly, I would rather skip the whole affair.

Thanksgiving is a much more joyful holiday and I do very much enjoy it. It's just that it comes so close to Christmas that I consider it the pre-feast. The welcoming of the true holiday season. The cutting of the ribbon, if you will. I love starting the Season off with that bang of telling my Savior and my family why I am so grateful for them. This holiday inspires much more uplifting poems, such as this:

TWO ROWS OF ROSES

Two rows of fragrant roses

Lead to an always open door.

Sweet-scented, they invite me

To join their midst's and forever soar.

Two rows of colored roses

Show me home by their splendid blooms.

Bright patterns to allure me

Back to home's happy, peace filled rooms.

Two rows of silk-spun roses

Feel like a lane to hallowed walls,

Where all may enter safely

To be loved in her heavenly halls.

Two rows of laughing roses

Softly entice me to their song.

They call to those who listen

Pleading with them to sing along.

Two rows of sugared roses

Sweetly guide me to the inside

Of my haven in the forest,

Where my happiest mem'ries abide.

image from: ecards.alege.net

So while it's a hate-love relationship, I will make it through these months and I will honor the holidays in their midsts. But if you think I'm going to do it without singing 'I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas,' all along the ride, you're as crazy as those jack-o-lanterns. BWAHAHAHAHA

Farewell to Summer

This was inspired by our end-of-summer family beach trip on labor day. It says more than I could say with stories and memories, so I'll let it speak for me. Read it as a whisper and think of it as the dying summer speaking.

THE OCEAN'S PROMISE

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh...

I'll tell you the secret

Between the Ocean and me

While her waves pull us softly Out to Sea

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssshhhhhhhhhhh...

It's crucial you're silent

If you want to know why

There's no other place I'd have chosen to die

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssshhhhhhhhh...

There's no sound beneath it

And therein lies the key

To understanding the promise 'tween the Ocean and we

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssshhhhhhh...

If you're quiet you'll hear it

The Lady Moon's cry

Whose silver lips tell me never a lie

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssshhhhhhhh...

And you'll understand freedom

That comes without fee

The right to exist, the right simply to be

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssshhhhhhhh...

For now comes your answer

Have you figured out why

The Sea is the place I come to take my last sigh?

Pictures from: hickerphotos

The Psychospirituality of Dreams

Ocean of Dreams by Josephine Wall
http://www.easy-dream-interpretation.com/

In my Senior year of High School I wrote a song. Now people close to me will exclaim that this is hardly a statement, since I play around with writing music all the time.

This song was a little different however. It is a lullaby to be precise, but not in the usual sense of the word. It sort of turned out more like a haunted melody along the lines of an LOTR song or a gypsy ballad. I called it a lullaby merely because I meant it to be sung at night, and because it was mainly about dreams and the unexpected yet revealing things that happen in the night. My father asked me to sing it at a ward talent show next week, and so I have been dwelling on it for the past little while. Now, I can't write out the melody for you to hear here, but I think I will jot down the lyrics, so you can get an idea of what I am talking about.

Dreams

The shores of the moonlight glow soft in the night,

Hiding her wonders just out of your sight.

For who looks in shadows for dreams to begin?

And who knows the night, with all of her whims?

In dreams live the secrets that have yet to be told.

Stories of valor that never grow old.

Memories that time has diluted and dimmed

Become nothing more than their silver rims.

When shadows are banished by breaking of light,

The dreams of the waking are taken in flight.

And few will remember what visions they've seen

They know only shadows that come with the Eve'n.

Of course, in singing it so often and getting it ready for presentation, I have thought to wonder what caused me to write such a song in the first place.

I have always been fascinated by dreams and waht they can tell us about our inner psyche and mortal experience. I don't believe our night visions were meant just as an escape from our worldly struggles or even as simple manifestations of our inner troubles and struggles-though certainly many of them are. I believe sleep to be one of the times we are most in tune with our spirits and our eternal connections. I believe dreams are a way of connecting to ourselves and revealing our deepest destinies, most inspiring stories, our prevailing fears and most troubling detections that we have yet to bring to the forefront of our minds. I do believe that one can see the future in a dream. I have experienced deja vu multiple times throughout my life, though usually I can connect it exactly, not to a past experience, but to a dream. I think dreams can show us those who will be most important in our lives before we know them enough to love them. I believe dreaming is an unproclaimed miracle. One I am most grateful for.

But almost all seriousness aside, dreams can also tell us some pretty disturbing things about ourselves and make us recognize that which we have been denying. I recently started keeping a Dream Diary on advice from a friend who had begun translating my dreams into very believable meanings for me. All in good fun, this experiment was meant to show me what recurring themes were appearing in my subcranium and get me to confront them and work out my anxiety issues. I noticed over time that what it was also doing, was forcing me to acknowledge the recurring variables and as I did so they became more solidified and unchangeable in my dreaming. Is this a good thing however, or is it taking something that's not meant to be taken so seriously to extremes?