Sun-Shiny

Many of my priorities have been the same ever since I was small: get married in the temple, then make marriage work, graduate from college. Some of my priorities have come to me as I have done different things: get a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, nail a double pirouette, and (if I have wonderful luck) sink into the splits. Some of my priorities I have developed as I have grown up—things I have decided to spend my time, energy and focus on because I decided they were important. And sometimes my priorities change in a split second.

The other day I had a cold (colds should not be allowed in summer) and I was blowing my nose every ten minutes like clockwork. As could be expected, my teacher ran out of Kleenex, and so I left the room to look for some. I encountered a couple that was wrought with grief—they had just lost their child to a fever. I didn’t need Kleenex anymore. I just wanted to avoid trampling through such a private moment. My priorities changed—I was no longer focused on myself because I saw a much greater need.

A few days ago my friend talked me into getting up and about on a bike ride. It was a blast! There was this long, sloping hill that was a dream to ride down. As we rode back to my friend’s house, I learned a valuable lesson: when you ride down a hill, you have to get back up it somehow. Up we went, and I was huffing and puffing all the way. I was glad to be huffing and puffing because at that moment my priority was to get up that hill. Whereas if I had not gone on the bike ride, my priority at that moment would probably have been to squeeze in some couch-potato time before I had to be active in my Tae Kwon Do class. I was doing something different from my regular schedule and so my priorities changed.

This weekend I had a lot of different options: a really fun ballroom fieldtrip, my little brother’s singing recital, or babysitting. I decided that my highest priority was to support my fabulous little brother. I knew I made the right choice when he told me after the recital that he didn’t dare look at me more than once while he was singing because he would have burst out laughing. Now maybe that doesn’t sound like it was that touching, but it was. I would have missed out if my priorities had been in a different place.

I get side-tracked so many times in a day, so many times in a minute! That is why I love Seminary, church, scriptures, temples, family, friends, good art, good books, good music, prayer, even hard things. I love pretty much anything that reminds me what my priorities are.

There are three kinds of people in this world: those who prefer cats, those who prefer dogs, and those who will eat either dogs or cats as long as they have salt or barbeque sauce. For myself, I prefer to eat things that peck on the ground, lay eggs, and really taste like chicken. :)

I love cats. Don't get me wrong--I like dogs too, but I just have a spot in my heart for the independent, lithe, beautiful, clever cats. Surely any animal that provides such a clear example to us of always landing on its feet deserves to be honored.

My family has adopted two kittens. We went and saw them about a week ago, and now they are ready to leave their mother. (A friend's family's loveable cat gave birth to five kittens, and as we've had a cat, then a dog and now want cats again, and we want kittens with the mother cat's temperament. We realized when our old cat died just how much of a mouse problem we had. It seemed like a good time to adopt kittens.) They are tiny, small enough to sit in a hand. And soft, very soft! I think that is how they meander into our affections.

I am so interested to observe this little hunter-mammal that has been an established domestic companion for millennia. The little white-and-grey kitten--after things settled down after their arrival and our subsequent delight and enthusiastic attentions--scouted out the house with his nose.

I love kittens! And I will love them when they are old and fat and don’t move so fast. It will be hard, but I will try not to let these bundles of fur and blue eyes become a cause for family strife as we debate about what to name them: Orion and Apollo, Tom and Huckleberry, Robin Hood and Friar Tuck, Frodo and Sam, Sam and Pippin, or maybe Napoleon and Dynamite.

Tossing winds, heralding clouds, the moment before all breaks lose—I love rainstorms! It feels as though the entire day of a thunderstorm tension is building and building until the first break or droplets; and then it is upon me—the tumult of the day resolved into the healing, lulling, and purifying clarity of rain. The fuzzy tension of the day resolved into the mantra of rain. Born again.

Ever since I was little I have loved storms and the stillness and freshness that come after. On a storm day, I used to take my umbrella outside and stand on a speed-bump, and when a gust of wind came up I would feel the lift in my umbrella-sail and almost leave the ground, just like Mary Poppins, and then have the singular joy of feeling rain drops falling on my head.

There is something so peaceful in this act of God. I love going to sleep when it is raining—hearing the soft patter and feeling safe and warm in my bed.

The air smells so clean after a rainstorm, and everything looks cleaner: sparkly and bright. There is a greater feeling of perspective and the enduring occasion that has flooded rivers, given life to crops, dispelled fires, cleared pollution from the air, and given joy to little eight-year-olds.

I live in a world of brilliant people.

Every day I get to know the people around me better. In my English class we are doing presentations, and I sat in awe at the creativity and brilliance of my peers. No theme or project was repeated, and every presentation was well given.

The more time I spend with people, the more I see how incredible they are—hidden talents and deep kindness. Everyone I meet has an area of expertise.

I can’t wait for tomorrow, and the rest of the English presentations.