things work out . . . question mark

there comes a time when you just don't have any idea where your life is going.

it's a little frustrating, especially for list-y people who want to have everything figured out and every square in the planner filled months before any of it actually happens. what's so bad about wanting to plan ahead?

I thought that I wanted to be in Paris by May, but maybe that's not quite right just yet. but then if that's not right, then what is?

on the way home from work, I was telling my dad about all of my fears, which is quite a long list---trust me, this is only the beginning of it:
I don’t want to go alone
what if I don’t get along with the people in my group
what if I can’t speak the language
what if I’m spending six thousand dollars on something that I’m not supposed to do?

I guess it all boils down to the fact that I’m afraid.
but let's face it, I’m afraid regardless of if its a mission or a study abroad.

sometimes I forget that my dad was eighteen once too, and that he had to face all of these fears. sometimes I forget that I can learn the lessons through someone else and not have to figure everything out on my own.

he told me that he finally realized that he could be afraid or he could get over it.
he took a step back and remembered that every returned missionary he talked to said that it was one of the best things they'd ever done, regardless of if it was easier than they thought or harder than they could have ever imagined.
he saw that it all worked out.

and so he stopped being scared.

I guess I'm just letting my fear overrule my faith, but it's a little hard not to after trying to figure this out for three months. I mean, since when have decisions ever been easy on me, especially ones that could affect the whole course of my life??

that conversation with my dad really made me think. it's not like I'd regret giving the Lord eighteen months of my life. would I regret it if I didn't? maybe. probably.

but what about my fears and inadequacies and inability to talk to people and not being ready?

as my dad said,
everyone else survived.
everyone else loved it.
everyone else made it through,
even when it got tough.

so why not me?

I feel like there are a lot of closed doors right now, not just closed, but locked up tight. no matter how I try to peer through the key hole, I can't catch a glimpse of what's on the other side.
but my dad said that when doors start to close and decisions get difficult, he takes a step back, lives the way he knows he should, and then somehow things open up.
it may take a day, it may take a month, but somehow, things work out.

well, I better make sure I'm living right because I definitely need some doors to open.
and in case you couldn't tell, I have one of the best dads in the world.

the stars are brightly shining

What a beautiful way to celebrate our Savior's birth :)

Words and Catharsis and Stuff Like That.

Hi, I'm back.

I mean, no big deal its only been like six months, and wow, I've missed my words.

I've been writing a lot---I mean, I am at college and that's kind of what you do on an all-too-regular basis. But I haven't written for me in a long time. Like, I haven't written about stars and books and best friends and adventures and lessons in spontaneity in way too long. And also, my roommates thought that it was spontenUity, not spontanEity, I mean, awkward right? Good thing I'm working on expanding my vernacular, so that I can teach them correct verbiage :)

Also. How weird is it that I just used "roommates" in a sentence, because now I actually have roommates instead of brothers? I mean, I've been living with them since September but it still kind of blows me away when I think about it, and how they've kind of become my family away from my family away from family and how we get along and how we all just love each other. It's amazing how the unknown just kind of works itself out.

All day today I've just felt this desire to get my hands on a piece of paper and a pen and just let everything flow. I guess that my keyboard works just as well, but its funny how you have all of these thoughts that are flying around inside of your head, but as soon as you try to catch one and analyze it and write about it, the thought flits just out of reach, always remaining tantalizingly close but never close enough to touch.

So now I'm here, writing and babbling and enjoying the sounds of the keys clacking and my thoughts humming and the sight of black marks on a bright screen, because it is cleansing and cathartic and beautiful, and the longer I sit here the more I realize that I've missed it. Not only have I missed it, but I've needed it.

My writing professor loves to tell us that writing is thinking.

"I write entirely to find out what is on my mind, what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I'm seeing, and what it means." 

- Joan Didion

So does that mean I haven't been thinking for the last six months? Most definitely not. I just haven't been synthesizing my thoughts or recording them as well as I could have. But then I had this epiphany, mostly because I read this quote: 

"The writers who get my personal award are the ones who show exceptional promise of looking at their lives in this world as candidly and searchingly and feelingly as they know how and then telling the rest of us what they have found there most worth finding. We need the eyes of writers like that to see through." 

- Frederick Beuchner

I realized that maybe I don't have the most beautiful words in the world, and maybe I don't have the most exciting adventures in the world, but I am the only person who will see the world through an Ashley-colored-lens, and I am the only person who will write about the world from an Ashley-point-of-view, so regardless of if I feel like I have something special to say, I do, and regardless of anyone else cares, I care, and regardless of if anyone else reads it, I read it. And by writing and reading and writing some more, I figure out what I really think and how I really feel and what I really see in the world. 

So basically, I think I'll start writing again, and not just writing, but writing for fun, writing for me. Will I be consistent? I'd like to say yes, but probably not. Will it all be beautiful and poetic and filled with rhetorical devices? Definitely not. But that's ok, because it will be writing and it will be mine, and for now, that is good enough. 

tears and tears and tears

It was Wednesday night, June 12, and I was at Girls Camp. Marohn and I had been talking for about an hour and a half, walking back and forth across the gravel road in front of our campsite. After going through a myriad of different topics, she started to share with me all of the things that she loved about her siblings. She told me with pride in her voice about her brilliant dad, her hard-working mom, her beautiful sisters, her talented brothers, and of course, her funny little brother Keaton.
We both talked about how smart and hilarious and skilled he was, and all of the funny things he and Weston (my little brother) did together. After all of the tears of the night, their silly adventures made us laugh.

Little did we know that Keaton only had 16 days left to live.

When my dad came into my room this morning and said that he had something to talk about with our family, death didn't even cross my mind. As the words fell out of my mom's mouth and the tears leaked out her eyes, the rest of us just kind of sat there, shocked.
For a few hours I was fine. My brain couldn't really understand or process what had happened.
Keaton, my little 6-year-old neighbor, dead?
That's impossible.

But slowly, as the day wore on, it started to hit me.

Never again will I hear a little knock at the door asking if Weston can play.
Never again will he show me the karate moves he learned.
Never again will we swing on the swings, or play board games, or have sword fights, or chase each other around the house, or tickle each other until we both laugh so hard.
Never again will I ask him "Hey Keaton, how are ya?"
and Never again will I hear "oh, I'm great!" in response.

And that little boy's potential.

He could have converted the world with his testimony, even though he was only 6.
He had the biggest smile I've ever seen, with bright blue eyes that seemed to light up the room.
He was a big ball of energy crammed inside a little boy's body.
He had a massive vocabulary - sometimes he would say things and I would do a double take, wondering how those words came out of such a little person.

I have some pretty funny memories with him.

One time I was home alone while my family was out running errands. I was in my bathroom getting ready for the day, when all of a sudden I hear the front door slowly start to creak open. I looked around for some kind of weapon to use (I guess my mind just goes to worst-case scenarios, haha) when I hear this little boy voice call out "Weston!! Can you play?" I started to laugh. I had been expecting some big burly robber, but instead I got to talk to one of my very favorite little boys.

Another day I was at their house, helping Marohn do her homework. Keaton really wanted to play, which didn't make a very good environment for working on math. I found two foam swords and challenged him to a duel. We raced around and around their basement, smacking each other and laughing and laughing. I'm not sure how much homework Marohn got done that day :)

In my digital photo class, I had to do some sort of hero assignment. I was kind of stumped, I had no idea what to take pictures of! Then I walked past Weston and Keaton playing upstairs, and as usual, Westy was dressed up in his Captain America costume that he had gotten for his birthday. I convinced them both to dress up as superheroes, and for the next 45 minutes, they jumped from Weston's bed with various heroic shouts and poses as I attempted to catch it on my camera.

Keaton and I always had funny conversations.

Me: Hey Keaton, how are ya?

Keaton: Great!

Me: How was your exercise today?

Keaton: Mm I haven't done it yet. I either do weights in my exercise room or jump on the tramp. The tramp is my favorite!

Me: Do you do weights on your own?

Keaton: Nope, with my dad.

Me: How did your family pictures go?

Keaton: Terrible for me, great for everybody else.

Me: Why is that?

Keaton: I had to sit for so long in an uncomfortable position.

Me: But did you smile big?

Keaton: Yes! like this...[huge half cheesy smile] :)

Keaton: Weston, I know everything about you!

Weston: How do you know?

Keaton: I guess I have a really smart brain!

Keaton: Hey Ashley, look at this!

Me: What is it Keaton?

Keaton: It's a chocolate rock [big grin]

Me: Whoa, where did you get that?

Keaton: My parents said that if I did my jobs for 6 days without being asked and without delay, I would get a prize!

All of these memories and thoughts flashed through my mind as my eyes filled with tears.

How could he just be gone?

Did it hurt when he died? Did he cry? Was he scared?

Is he with Him now?

And of course I cried even harder. 

Moroni 8 - "Little children are alive in Him."

Thank goodness for testimonies.

My mom was at their house all morning, helping to get laundry done and things cleaned up before Keaton's family got home.

Then I realized that wait, their family was coming home, and I would need to be there for Marohn. I would need to be strong and give words of comfort and help them feel better about the future.

So what did I do? Oh, I started crying even harder. 

A few hours later Marohn texted me, saying they were a few minutes away. Before I knew it, I was standing at in their kitchen, the only light filtered in through the windows, with people sobbing all around me. 

My mom went to his mom, and they hugged and cried and cried and cried. My mom had tears down her face, but his mom had lost all of her tears a long time ago. Instead it was a dry gasp of a broken heart. 

His dad stood there, a look of shock on his face. When his brother came to hug him, he grasped him around the neck and stood there for at least a full minute or two, and a loud sob was ripped from his throat. I think that was the worst part, seeing this man who I look up to for his strength and testimony and powerful presence, being so torn apart by the loss of his son. 

I hugged Marohn so tight that I worried I might crack her back. 

I'll never forget being in that home, the feeling that was in that room. The despair, the tears, the pain.

And yet we knew it would all be ok. That's what testimonies are for, right? But sometimes, you just have to cry anyways. Because even with a testimony, it's still hard. 

Later my mom, dad, Weston, and I went over again. We had printed out a bunch of pictures of Keaton and Weston that we had of them on their various adventures and play-days. When my parents first told Weston what had happened, his primary reaction was "Mom, let's take him a loaf of homemade bread!" So along with the pictures we carried two loaves of fresh wheat bread with two containers of homemade strawberry jam. 

We walked into the house again. All of the siblings were standing around in various stages of shock and tears. We all gathered in the family room, Weston on the floor with my mom, the rest of us grouped around him. 

He whispered to my mom that he needed a band-aid for his recent road-rash injury. Keaton's mom hurried to get one for him, and every one watched, riveted on Keaton's best friend, as my mom placed the band-aid over his scabbed knee and tearfully said "all better". 

Except it's not really all better. If only our hearts could be healed so easily, with big band-aids taped to our chests to hold the pieces together. 

One by one, Weston pulled out each picture as my mom explained the stories behind them. From their favorite games to hero costumes to birthday adventures, Weston and Keaton's adventures brought watery smiles and choked laughs. 

When Weston had finished, Keaton's dad softly thanked him for the gifts and for being Keaton's best friend. 

He said "Weston, do you know what I always imagined you and Keaton doing? I always thought you two would go on missions together. But I guess he got his call to serve a little earlier that we thought! And we won't be able to talk to him or write him, but I know that when you go on your mission, he will be there to help you. He loved the gospel, and he wanted to share it with everyone."

Fresh tears coursed down my face. Oh Heavenly Father, I know you need Keaton up there. But don't we need him down here too? 

Oh sweet Keaton. Serve your mission well. And someday, I know I'll see you again, except we'll both be perfect and glorious. 

And on that day, I'll say "How are ya Keaton?"

And then you'll say "oh I'm just great!"

it's called "I have an obsession with the stars."

sometimes, I look up at the stars and start to drown a little bit.
there is just something beautiful, something wonderful about them.
what would it be like to jump off the high dive and swim through the galaxies, sift the stars through my fingers, feel the planets move through my hair?

I think I love the stars because I love the One who created the stars. I think I love the stars because someday, I want to create them too.

I think I love the stars because they represent something new. well, not really new, because they've been around for thousands and millions and billions years, but new in the sense that they are always changing, being born and growing brighter and dying and then being born again.

you know, my life is changing a lot right now too. everything I thought I knew just ended, as fast as you could walk across a stage, which was almost faster than you could blink. it's as if twelve years of Sameness just walked out the door and I'm standing on the porch waving and crying and jumping up and down with excitement and tears are streaming down my face because I don't really want to say good bye, but at the same time I do because I'm ready for it. because this is what I've been preparing for. life. and now the time has come to actually live it and I'm not sure I'm ready but at the same time I am, because this is what I've been preparing for. you know, life.

I think I love the stars because they show me that there can still be light, even on the darkest night.

it seems like the world today is trying to smother out light: my light, your light, star light, Christ's light. but no matter how hard it tries, a lightbulb can't outshine every pinprick of light that shines in the velvety black canvas of night. and no matter how hard it tries, the world can't squish my little light, the one that is inside my heart, because even though it sometimes flickers, I promise you that I will never let it go out. it's the flame of truth. hope. confidence. testimony. and it's just going to keep on burning [Matthew 5:14-16].

I've learned something about myself lately, I mean, other than the fact that I love the stars and I think I should be a philologist when I "grow up" and that I'm not a huge fan of Nietzsche, even though he started out as a philologist. but anyway. I learned that I really love history, well duh, but that I really love family history. did you know that my eighth great-grandpa's name was Lars? and he had a son named Mogen Larsen who had a son named Lars Mogensen who had a son named Mogen Larsen who had a son named Lars Mogensen who had a son named Lars Larsen? I'm not even kidding. like, how cool is that? Lars lived in Herstedoster, Copenhagen, Denmark, but he joined the church, came to America, and five generations later, here I am.

"Does it make you wonder? Someday in the far future, when the Milky Way has turned another cosmic click, will someone carry a chair to your grave site and keep you company forever? Can you imagine someone loving you that much? Can I?" 

{one of my favorite books in the galaxy, Love, Stargirl}

does it make you wonder? maybe, when Lars was standing on the boat deck of the Minnesota watching his home disappear beneath the horizon, he too looked up and fell in love with the stars. maybe he found strength in the tiny pinpricks of light millions of miles away, because maybe he too found comfort in the thought of an all-knowing, all-powerful Being watching over him. so maybe, in a way, the stars are in my blood.

it makes me wonder. someday, after another cosmic click, will someone love me that much? will someone remember me, and how much I love books and rhetorical devices and logical fallacies and Kant, even though I don't really understand him, and Thoreau, even though I don't really understand him either, and bare feet and best friends and chocolate and words and hugs and stars? will someone lay a ribbon of the milky way at my grave, instead of a wreath of roses? will someone still care?

dear Lars. and Mogen. and Johanne. and Bodil. and Leonard. and Hannah. and William. and back and back and back. I do care. 

and I'll keep reading and learning and discovering and sharing, and maybe I'll find more stars that we can love together. and the best part is, we'll have eternity to do it :) and when we get to heaven, don't expect me to be floating on a cloud somewhere playing a lyre. oh no. I'll be dancing through the milky way, shaking stardust out my hair and sending comets spinning off my eyelashes.

HOORAY!

School is OUT! :) 

long live bare feet, good books, and sunshine

what I really want to say

you know, life is good. life is so good. 

I have all of these words that want to get out - things I want to tell you, feelings I want to share, and soap boxes I want to stand on. but I'll leave them for another day. 

because right now?

right now I'll tell you how much I love the world.

you know, sometimes the world is mean. sometimes it is even pretty cruel.

but then sometimes it can be kind of wonderful too. 

and sometimes I just want walk up to every single person on this planet and whisper in their ear "I love the world."

which is kind of another way of saying "I love you".

because when you stop and look around, there really is a lot to be grateful for. 

Special :)

This is my Special Needs Mutual class - aren't they just so cute? 

These awesome people are my Thursday nights, once a week, every week :) 

They are so great!

So funny, so happy, so special.

And  you know what? Having "special needs" isn't a bad thing. 

Because 

having EXTRA SPECIAL NEEDS 

really means

  having EXTRA SPECIAL FRIENDS :)

The Vetruviron Man

let us all take a moment and bask in the brilliance of this picture :)

GENIUS. pure genius. 

(please tell me you get it.)

we're stronger than we think

People killin', people dyin',

Children hurt and you hear them cryin'.

Can you practice what you preach?

And would you turn the other cheek?

Father, Father, Father help us,

Send some guidance from above.

'Cause people got me, got me questionin'

Where is the love?

Why does it take a tragedy to make us grateful for what we have?

That day terrified me. How could the world be so mean? Only the day before I had learned that a classmate had taken his own life, and now these bombs exploded into my life, shattering my little naive world into broken pieces of hope, love, and happiness. How could I survive in such a scary world? I didn't know that boy. I didn't know those three people that died from the bombs. I didn't even know any of the hundreds, maybe even thousands more who were wounded, both physically and emotionally. But they still changed me.

The first thing I did when I got home from school was run upstairs, find my 18 month old brother, and give him a giant bear hug. I didn't want forget what's really important, you know? He wrapped his little arms around my neck and hugged me back, even though he didn't know why I was so upset. His eyes sparkled and his baby-toothed grin reminded me that there is still love in this world, no matter what happens.

The bombs had not only shattered my little world, but they broke loose a floodgate of tears. I talked to my mom and cried and cried and cried. By the time the tears stopped and my mascara was in black streaks down my cheeks, my mom had calmed me down. She eased the pain and terror I felt, coaxing it back in behind the hastily patched walls at the heart of my little not-so-naive-anymore world to wait until the day when that little part of my heart gets too full again and spills out my eyes.

Sometimes life gets cut short. And when it does, we do what we always do. We weep. We hug. We bond together to give whatever support is needed to buoy up the broken hearts of the nation. And we live on.

We wipe our eyes, though the tears often insist on falling anyway. We square our shoulders and resolve to face each day with a stronger determination to truly live. We will live so that "our dead will not have died in vain." We will live so that their legacies will not be buried with them. We will live so that the world will know that together, we are strong.

Love is All You Need :)

Today has been one of the greatest days of my life :) 

There is no other way to put it; I just feel SO loved. 

It's amazing the things that people have done for me today

- I was "kidnapped" at 5:30 in the morning by my best-est friends of all time, starting off the day with nutella, crepes, and strawberries

- I got to be part of one of the best seminary assembly I have ever been to (and I have been to a lot)

- my friends sang me multiple renditions of "Happy Birthday" all throughout the day

- my Mom gave me a "go-go squeeze" applesauce packet for lunch today - basically that means "I love you" in Ashley-language :) AND she gave me 10 more as one of my presents...haha I guess that is why I am feeling so filled with love today :)

- my friends gave me three plastic cats (I mean, now that I am so old, it is time to start my career as a cat lady! They now reside on my window sill above my desk. If you have any name suggestions, let me know :) )

- practically a bazillion people wished me happy birthday today...ah, it is the best to be walking down the hall and all of a sudden someone calls to you "haaaaaaaappy birthday!" It seriously made my day every time :)

- I was given three of the funniest cards I have ever received today! Here is one of them (from Lewis)...

  haha I was laughing so hard! (my brothers always make fun of me for my teenage "slang" :) )

- one of my best-est-est friends gave me the best-est-est birthday present ever! Oh how I love the Eiffel Tower!

- my Mom made me some great food today :) Hawaiian haystacks with all the toppings, sweet potatoes, rolls, and best of all, German chocolate cake....delicious! 

- I got to go to Young Women tonight....wow, those girls and my leaders love me so much :) I can't even count how many times people told me happy birthday! A Beehive and I share birthdays (yes, we've been counting down for months!) and it has been so fun :) we basically had a mini party at our activity tonight, cake and all!

- I played outside with this little boy today :) he is basically the cutest kid on the planet! As soon as I say "outside?" he is practically tottering out the door as fast as he can! We play on the swings, the slide, the grass, the basketball court...he just loves being in the sunshine. And as a matter of fact, so do I! What a cute little goose :) (this is the only picture I could get of him...he moves so fast that all of his pictures turn out blurry! haha)

- my parents gave me the best gifts ever! How in the world did I come to be so blessed?!

- I got phone calls from my "little sister," my "buddy", and my college friends...seriously, they made my day! :)

- I received "happy birthdays" from all over the world! 

from Brazil....

to Sweden! 

Don't you see what I mean?

I am just SO loved :)

like, hooray for birthdays!

like, hooray for life! 

:)

oh, and I am officially allowed to feel ancient now! I mean, who wouldn't if they could a) buy things off of infomercials, b) get arrested, and c) rent port-a-potties? Let's be real :)

if life was a library

Today, my Mom and I went shopping for a prom dress.

Instead, I came home with these...

Aren't they beautiful? :)

I asked my Mom "Why go to a mall when you could go to Barnes & Noble?"

She just laughed and asked, "So how are you going to explain this to Tanner? '...Sorry, Tanner, I decided to buy books instead of a dress, so how about we spend the night reading instead of dancing'?"

Mm yes, I'm sure it will go over well :)

This is my future life....

like, go life!

And when I walk into a bookstore my heart starts beating fast and I try to breathe deep and act normal, but in reality I want to dance around the store, running my fingers across all of the covers and flipping through every page.

My life's goal?

But really,

I love books. 

End of story.

(yes, that was a pun.)

hearts and things

Did you know I have an imaginary friend?
His hair is the color of sunshine, and his eyes are bluer than the ocean.
He's kind and funny and has the best manners in the world.
He runs like the wind and has the brains of a genius.

and did you know that he's a heart surgeon?
except I think he forgot to pay attention in class when they taught him how to finish the job, because he left my heart wide open.

I know, it's a little dramatic. 

But it's ok because 1) it's Valentine's Day and 2) I'm a teenage girl :)

Dear Future Husband...

Prepare yourself for many bad hair days :)


[click on the one titled "Bad Hair Day"... the link won't work exactly to the video, sorry]