My world

• Something big:  I stepped off of the plane on an uncomfortably hot and humid afternoon in September of 2015.  I felt the humidity entrenched over my body.  All I had in hand was two small suitcases filled with belongings and photos of my loved ones.  I scanned the view around me to take it all in.  The sky stretched out before my eyes for miles and I witnessed the vast, brightly colored sky that I had only witnessed in movies.  This would be my home for the year and a half of my life. 

• Something broken: I was on the freeway driving home from a long and stressful day at work.  Unfortunately, my week outside of work was also long and stressful.  I sat in my car thinking about how I couldn’t possibly take another thing.   Just then, I felt my car being launched forward several feet in front of me. I pulled over to the side of the road, stepped out of my vehicle, and surveyed the damage that had taken place.  My back fender was completely smashed in.  This event was the icing on the cake of my undesirable and unfortunate week.

• Something artistic or something man made: I can still the voice of my mother in the back of my mind reminding me to practice the piano.  As a child, sitting down to practice the piano was at the very bottom of my "favorite things" list.  I grew up on the east coast, as a nine year old girl, I felt like my time was best spend playing in the forest behind my house and getting dirty rolling around in the leaves.  You can imagine the struggle it was for my mother to get me to sit down and actual practice my songs.  I can't say I appreciated that persistency at the time, but looking back, I am so grateful she stuck to her guns. 

• Something Mysterious: Why was I born into the family that I have?  Why was a born a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Why did my life path lead me to BYU? Why have I met the people that I have? Why do I feel strong love from a God I’ve never seen? These questions are pertinent in my mind, and honestly, I don’t think I’ll know the answers to these questions in this life.   

Image: my first photo taken in Oklahoma 

The Electron

• Something Big: the electron. It's not big at all-- in fact, it's so small that it's almost outside our reach. But one thing is certain-- it will always be outside our comprehension to grasp. It's location: impossible. It's behavior: almost more so. I've poured over my chemistry books, then spent hours at the whiteboard trying to grasp what I had just read. How can something be both a wave and a particle-- both energy and matter-- simultaneously? And then I learned about De Broglie: WE are both a wave and a particle-- both energy and matter-- simultaneously. And how are these "probability waves" part of the physical world? In the crash between the math and the tangible, distressed and caught in the middle of it, I asked a professor whose specialty is physical chemistry, "What is real?" His response was equally mystifying: "You know, you're asking a dangerous question."
  
• Something Broken: my insides. I have Celiac disease, an autoimmune problem that attacks the lining of intestines whenever I eat gluten. That's fine-- just go gluten-free. But it's not that simple. Years after diagnosis, I'm still suffering. I've tried so hard-- crazy restrictive diets, less restrictive diets, more doctors, a dietitian, physical exercise, and so on. But it persists. I'm blessed with a body that works quite well generally, but the stomach is an exception. And honestly, the mental side effects of unexplainable, chronic medical problems are torturous. The constant juxtaposed cry is there: "Am I doing enough? What else can be done?" Scraping, searching, hoping for an answer. But sometimes, nature is just silent.
• Something Artistic: a sculpture in the Musee D'Orsay. There's a portrait bust of a woman on the second level of the Paris museum-- I can tell you the exact place-- that stops me in my tracks when I see her. The first time I encountered the sculpture, it was as though the world stopped moving. Wide-eyed and heart-pierced, I stood and did more than admire her features. Somehow, I felt she personified everything that I can't describe. The simple hair, the chip on the nose. The stillness, peace, and reliability of her face. It was as though she felt the inner yearnings of my heart and wore them on a marble sleeve. I can't for the life of me describe why I felt such an attachment to this sculpture, but I still do. 
• Something Mysterious: my absolute faith as a scientist. Faith, which is supposedly the essence of irrationality, has become such a normal part of my scientific life. And that makes me marvel. From a secular perspective, one would call it a fluke when my laboratory experiments suddenly work so that I can make it to the temple one night. I say to myself, "Of course! God was controlling the circumstances to help you live up to your divine potential." But to the rest of the world, you can't make a miracle something perfectly rational. Moreover, when I need help in searching for scientific answers, I ask an "irrational" God for aid.  It's just inherent to incorporate my faith into my scientific work. Faith is described as a lack of perfect knowledge, while the Latin root of science is "to know". And yet to me, science never lies outside the realm of my faith.

"New York, New Yooooork!!"

• Something big: Blast from the past

Just a couple weeks ago, I had a ten-year-old ask me for a summary of the lessons I've learned in my life. I was baffled for a few seconds, but soon found my footing with some solid truths such as "try to love everyone, no matter who they are." Later, I was just thinking about how someone can even pretend to fit twenty-two years of literally constant experience into a few comments, or forty years, or ninety years. Then I thought about history books, where decades of billions of lives' worth of experience are crammed into a few sentences, and I still struggle trying to learn how to navigate a simple friendship.

• Something broken: How can I trust anyone? 

At one point during a job I had in the summer, I was handling small boxes of merchandise worth about $20,000 a box, and I was alone in a very low-security area close to where I had my backpack. It was also the sort of situation where they wouldn't have even realized it was missing till weeks after I'd already left the state. It suddenly fell upon me just how much implicit trust my boss had in me just by giving me the job--how could anyone sanely trust that much? Sometimes circumstances are just too tempting for crime or betrayal. But then again, the world would fall apart completely without it.

• Something artistic or man-made: "New York, New Yooooork!!"

I had the opportunity to work this year in New York City at the US Open Tennis Championships. I was put up by my employer in a hotel in midtown Manhattan, and from the window of my hotel room, I could see an endless line of cars framed by endless towers. I'd think, people are so incredible! But then at work, I'd be dealing face to face with these tennis players who are worldwide celebrities, and honestly? They seemed exactly like normal people. People can be so deep, so creative, so powerful, and so incredible, and yet those whom I supposed to be the vanguard of such qualities seemed so mundane in person.

• Something mysterious: Personality tests--how much accuracy is freaky?

Recently, I spent an inordinately large amount of time on the phone with a friend. How long, you ask? Nine whole hours. Why, you ask? Because we made the fatal mistake of taking the Meyers-Briggs personality test. I've tried other tests before, and to be honest, they seemed more like shotty horoscopes than insightful psychology exercises. I've always felt very independent and in control of my life, but this test made me extremely uncomfortable because it seemed to peer into my motivations and my methods with eerie veracity. But this made me ask, am I even in control at all??

Hanging on for Dear Life

• Something Big: Catching the right ledge 

All of my wilderness skills that told me not to stand on damp, mossy rock on the edge of an angry river heading towards a drop off were apparently taking this day off. One moment I was dipping my hands into the cool water for a drink, the next I was tumbling under the water. “I NEED A ROCK” was the only thing I could think. My arm struck down, caught something, and didn’t let go until the leaders of my group rescued me. 3 years later I returned to the same spot. That winter had been drier, and the river was only a small trickle. I searched for the rock that had saved my life. The entire riverbed was a uniform slab of granite with a single crack about 4 feet from the drop off. That was my ledge, and that was the only ledge. I have reflected on this event many times. What would have happened if I had put my arm down a millisecond later? What would have happened if that ledge wasn’t there for me to grab?

• Something Broken: Catching the wrong ledge

Running up a flight of stairs, my foot caught the edge of one of the steps and I landed hard. My knee hurt, but I shook it off, continued up the stairs, and went on a hike. That evening, however, my leg completely gave out. I was in a wheelchair for a few days, crutches after that. Many specialist visits and scans later, the doctors still didn’t have any answers. I had to give up ballet, missed out on fun hikes and adventures, all because I fell up stairs. UP the stairs. That shouldn’t happen.

• Something Artistic: Imprinting 

One evening I was attending one of my mother’s concerts and the piece that was playing struck me like nothing ever had before.  I came often and so was no stranger to good music, but this was different. From the first note I was captivated. For the rest of the piece I was just drinking it all in, squirming in my seat because I couldn’t physically handle the concentration of beauty I was being presented with. I described my experience to my mom, and with a thoughtful smile, she told me that that piece had been playing on a CD when I was born. I would say that that would explain why it had impacted me so much, but claiming that my subconscious remembers the music that was playing during the first few minutes of my life does not seem like a valid explanation.

• Something Mysterious: Trust

I am ok when people say that to love or to be happy is a choice. For me, choosing to trust is sometimes harder. My trust in someone seems so tied to their trustworthiness based on past actions. If I choose to trust someone who isn’t trustworthy, won’t I end up getting hurt? But if I withhold my trust from someone who deserves it, am I hurting our relationship?

Something Big:Grizzly Bear Scat

• Something Big:Grizzly Bear Scat

On a beautiful chilly summer morning in Yellowstone National Park, my twin brother and I set out on an adventure. The goal was to climb Mt. Washburn, and skirt the edge of the grand canyon of the Yellowstone. On the way down I rolled my ankle and realized just how dangerous it would be to get injured with no cell service, and no way out except four miles up a mountain, or 10 miles along the plain. It began to mist then sprinkle as we made our way down from the peak. Just as we reached the bottom, and began along a meadow, we ran into massive paw prints in the fresh mud. We knew they couldn't be more than 15 minutes old because of the rain, and the hair began to rise on our necks. Five feet later, a pile of grizzly bear scat that was steaming in the frigid air. The hair continued to rise, along with the feeling that we were in too deep, and that we were the smallest part of the park which we thought we'd conquered at the top of the mountain. The sense that we were being watched continued until we'd cleared the meadow and we could start breathing again.

• Something Broken:

My Grandad is one of the most charitable human beings I know. The distinctive smell of a leather coat, whiskers from his cheek, and a twinkle in his eye as he hugs me are ingrained in my memory. He was married to my grandmother for 52 years before she passed away. Peggy developed Huntington's disease, a genetic disorder, that slowly destroys all the motor and brain function. My Grandad never left her side for 4 years while she struggled to remember who she was, and could hardly talk. Now when I am greeted by hugs I can feel the ribs through the leather jacket, the whiskers are too long, and the twinkle almost gone, like his Peggy.

Donald and Peggy Murray

• Something Artistic

There was a rift as wide as a canyon in my freshmen dorm room. We lived together, but besides the polite small talk, we might as well have been strangers. Like the kid that you knew from somewhere and some event that you nodded to as you passed in the hall. Then came a flyer, "Paint Party in Salt Lake", and we all decided to go together. The pounding beat of the music, the crushing waves of the crowd, and the smothering heat of the room forged a bond stronger than steel. We went in as strangers, but the music, the atmosphere, the crazy bacchusness of the rave gave us a common bond. The music had torn down the barriers between us.

• Something Mysterious: Spiritual Experiences

Spiritual experiences have always been somewhat esoteric to me. I grew up in a very spiritual household. Both my parents were members of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, so I naturally followed them in scripture reading, daily prayers and church attendance. I had instances where I truly felt something outside of myself, a warm feeling of awe and love. I have taken these, in combination with answers to prayers as my evidence of a loving God. I often wonder however why my brothers cannot experience the same inspiration that I have. My brother dedicated two years of his life to the church, tried to be good, honest and sought for the same answers, but according to him, the answer never came. Others outside my church have described similar warm feelings in response to Buddhism or Islam, or other Christian Churches. I believe I have something special and wish my brothers could feel the same.

Earthquake Dreams

Something Big: Humanity's Garbage
My sophomore year at BYU I was a custodian in the Harris Fine Arts Center, the music and arts building. One of my duties was to empty all the trash bins. We filled about 5 large trash bags every day. This amount of garbage overwhelmed me, especially when I thought about how that was only the waste for one building, in one university, in one city, in one state, etc.! There are so many people in the world! And they all create so much garbage! How do we possibly contain it all!?


Something Broken: My Concept of Time
I sit in my car outside the address pulled up on my phone. I contemplate driving away at the thought of my 45-minute-late entrance into the apartment, all conversation halted as the party pauses to collectively sneer at me with disdain. I meant to be 5, maybe 10 minutes late to my friend's bridal shower, an acceptable window, just to avoid being the first person there. But somehow, there I was, at 7:45, without even a paper-wrapped peace offering because I ordered through the Amazon registry. For probably the millionth time in my life, I ask myself, Why am I like this? I sigh, slump out of the car, and shuffle like a worm to the front door.

Something Artistic or Man-Made: Pirates
It's 2009 and I'm spending a week at my cousins' house in Holbrook, Arizona. It's a time-worn house amidst a vast span of dust, but that's part of its charm. The charm runs thin one night, though, when I lie in my cold sleeping bag, overcome with worry about my parents' growing disenchantment with one another, my cousin's disease, my fear to drink the mysterious Holbrook well-water. Shakily I stuff in my earbuds and roll my iPod nano's wheel to the soundtrack of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. A mist of cello and french horn dances down my spine, and somehow I once again believe in love, and hope, and safety.

Something Mysterious: Déjà-vu
I have a dream, or a daydream, or something: I'm on the phone with my friends Jordan and John, playing a game online, talking about John's new dog. Then the table and ground and blinds start shaking, and I panic, until I snap out of it. I comfort myself: Jordan and I haven't spoken in years, I don't even have that game downloaded anymore, and John doesn't have a dog—certainly there won't be an earthquake either. I forget about this, until much later I am actually in that phone call, playing that same game, and I remember the words we already exchanged in my "dream" as we say them again in real time. I panic, remembering the earthquake. It doesn't happen. This is more than remembering a similar past event; there is no way this could have happened before, and it was so specific. As always, I catch my breath, and try not to think about it too hard.

To Sleep or to Paint?

• Something Big: The beauty in the random                                                                                  The thing about nature that has perplexed me forever is how it is so random and yet so beautiful. The way leaves fall from trees can't be replicated by a man. It would look unnatural. But when a tree sheds its leaves it makes beautiful shapes and patterns on the ground. No two snowflakes are alike, but all similar and beautiful. Mountains in their grandeur differ wildly and from one to the next, but all are awe inspiring. The bark on a tree, grass on a lawn, even the dirt behind your house. It's random, non uniform, and yet incredible to look at. Nature has a way of captivating the eye with its mastery of making random look beautiful.
• Something Broken: Could someone please tell me whats wrong with my body?             Why is it always something weird? Something Strange? Something unknown. I've lived a mostly healthy life, but the medical problems I have had have been odd to me. I've had shingles as a 24 year old (the average age of those with shingles is over 50), Lyme disease, and other skin conditions which numerous doctors couldn't diagnose. Looking around I see people with the flu, or strep, or some other common illness. Not me! When I get sick, I find something weird to get sick with, and I don't understand it.
• Something Artistic or Man-Made: To Sleep or to Paint?                                                         I like to sleep, I think everyone does, or at the very least everyone needs to. However, when my artistic side makes an appearance (and when it does, you better beware) I seem to lose the need for sleep. I love to paint and when I start I can't stop. There have been many nights when I paint until the morning. One time years ago I stayed up for about two days straight, painting nearly nonstop. When I'm in the middle of it, I don't even feel tired. I just have this drive to progress and finish what I am working on. I don't know how this works or why. However, this inexhaustible energy which fuels my painting disappears the moment I stop. I have woken up many times in my chair or on the floor because of this. 
• Something Mysterious: Shadows                                                                                                  Walking through an empty building on a guard patrol, there is nothing to report but empty rooms and dead silence. This should instill calm, knowing everything is ok, but walking through this dark empty building at 1 A.M. does the opposite. I feel anxious and jumpy, surrounded by shadow, hearing only my footsteps and the soft buzz of the emergency exit lights. What is it about the dark that causes a fear the cuts us to the core? What is in the shadows that we are so afraid of?                                                         

Confusion will be MY Epitaph

"The Words of the Prophets are written on the Subway Walls and Tenement Halls..."

"...The Wall on which the prophets wrote... Is cracking at... the seams..."

• Something Big: Memories to last a (digital) lifetime
• When I was checking up the other day on how much memory on my Google Drive remained, I was astonished at how much I still had. Despite putting so many documents, presentations and PDF's on to the cloud in over seven years of use, I had barely used up a fraction of a percent thus far! I have no clue as to how I could possibly use up so much available space, as except I use it for... less than legal purposes, there would be no way as to fill it up to the maximum limit.
• Something Broken: The Mind is a plaything of not just the body, but itself
• I don't think like most people. I don't have the same impulses, the same drives that the average man has. While in a flight of fancy I can imagine an literary scene as if it was in real time, and yet in the same moment I could not understand how torque is calculated, despite taking and passing a college-level physics course. I can see the relationships between characters and themes as clearly as dry glass, and yet my mind fogs up when my mind needs to figure out what a person in the real world really wants or is feeling. My IQ is lauded, and yet I can't help but feel that in this interpersonal world it is less than useless. How could I ever understand how another thinks when I can't even understand my own thoughts and actions?
• Something Artistic: Confusion will be MY Epitaph
• Music is one of the highlights of my life, but it was not until recently that I had discovered a song by King Crimson called "Epitaph". A "sequel" of sorts to the Simon and Garfunkel song "the Sound of Silence", it is an ode to the dark future ahead, where civilization crumbles around us as we dunk our heads into the sand. Sometimes I have no clue what the future holds, but in other times I can imagine oh so terribly how disastrous things can become and are becoming. I dream of nuclear war, a world that is safe to no child, and to this I can only wail the song's chorus: "Yes, I feel tomorrow I'll be crying... Yes, I feel tomorrow I'll be crying..."
• Something Mysterious: How positive and joyous an emotion...
• What does it mean to love? This not an uncommon question, but unlike others I truly have no idea as to how to do so. What would my family say, if I were to tell them, "I do not know if I love you, I do not know how such is accomplished"? What would whoever should be wife say, if I were to confess, "Am I supposed to feel warm when I am beside you? Am I truly someone who cares about you, and your wellbeing?" I can feel happiness, satisfaction, and a whole host of negative emotions, but have I ever truly loved? Are the bonds I form with others as strong as steel... or as delicate as a stem?

Image Credit: "Munich Subway Station" via Wikimedia Commons

Title: “Are you Snoopy’s Father?”

•   Something Big: Bird’s-eye View

Last summer my son was able to drone my mom’s 260-acre property on Kauai. The first time I saw his drone shots of my mere five acres, I was blown away. As humans, we intellectually realize that we do not see the world as birds do, but I doubt we ever realized what they actually did see. Flying in an airplane is not the same thing; only a drone shot can show us what we’ve all been missing. My mother turned 90 years old this year, and I can honestly say that giving her a drone video of the 260 acres that she has created over a span of 30 years, is nothing short of a miracle.

•   Something Broken: Divorce

You never think it’ll happen to your family. Actually, I didn’t even realize it happened to hardly anyone. It was the ‘70s though: the decade of a very high divorce rate. All things considered, it went well. My parents both remarried, I was almost an adult anyway, and the good times continued; just in a different way. But, let it be said that the effects of divorce never end, moving from generation to generation. It’s not bad; it’s just annoying.

                                                   Image credit: https://flic.kr/p/9mREbe

•   Something Artistic or Man-made: My Peanuts siblings

My dad hated the question, “Are you Snoopy’s father?” He knew what they meant, but he always said, “No.” His poor fans looked perplexed. In essence, he was Snoopy’s father, but he was also mine. The Peanuts comic strip was “born” in 1950, and my siblings and I were all born between 1950 and 1958. Because I was the age of the characters, I have to say that they did feel like siblings to me. I always felt kind of dumb thinking of fictional characters as real human beings, but I did. They were very real to me, and I liked having them around. It’s been over fifty years since I grew up with my dad’s other “kids,” and my feelings are still the same: I like having them around. They bring me security.

•   Something Mysterious: Miracle of Birth

It feels too cliche to discuss the “miracle of birth,” but I must. You have to be there to fully comprehend and absorb the miracle of it. Many mothers say that there is nothing like the miracle of their first-born, but I beg to differ. I began to realize, as I made my way through all nine births of our children, that the more I had, the more miraculous it seemed. It was a mystery as to how these little souls could’ve been growing inside me for nine months and then one day just come into this world as a complete being, ready to start their own life.

Why Disney Channel... Just Why?

• Something Big: How Donald Trump Became President- When I found out that Donald Trump was running for president while I was on my mission, I was genuinely shocked. As I saw some bits and pieces about his campaign from other people and from the news, he was very much painted as being incompetent and unfit to run the country, especially with his impassioned declarations about building the wall. Along with that, many A-list celebrities were actively speaking against him. It really seemed as though everyone was against him. Because of that, I was truly shocked when I woke up and my parents told me that he won and was now the president of the United States.
• Something Broken: The Music Industry- It's no secret that the music industry/entertainment industry isn't perfect. Many people have come forward saying that music execs pressured them to act a certain way and do certain things and others have talked about their record label not promoting their music as much as other artists. Now obviously, greed is a big motivator behind the actions of a lot of these people taking control of the artists' images and style and whatnot. However, what I don't understand is how this industry managed to become so successful when these issues are well known by the general public.
• Something Artistic or Man-Made: The Fourth Halloweentown movie Return to Halloweentown- Okay, I'm still coming down from the spooky high of Halloween, so please bear with me. If you had a good childhood, like I did, then you probably grew up watching Disney Channel, including all of the movies in it's iconic Halloweentown franchise. However, if you've watched the fourth and final movie Return to Halloweentown, you've probably noticed that it has some issues. Number One, they replaced Kimberly J. Brown, who played the protagonist Marnie Piper, with actress Sara Paxton (pictured above, in the film). Disney, I don't care what you tell me or have other characters say, THAT'S NOT MARNIE!!! Number Two, why was Witch University never mentioned in any of the previous movies? If it's as big of a deal as it is for Halloweentown, why couldn't there have been a line casually mentioning it in passing, or something? I have many more questions and I could talk about this for hours, but you get the point.
• Something Mysterious: How is Tori Kelly Not More Famous?- This question literally keeps me up at night sometimes. For those who don't know, Tori Kelly is an incredibly talented singer, a vocal queen, who is extremely underrated. Some of her previous songs have performed decently well on the music charts, but she is still relatively unknown by most people. How is it that is amazing woman, with the voice of an angel, is still not big, when she is capable of doing things like this? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aLPCbJJL2M (you're welcome).

Image Credit: http://halloweentown.wikia.com/wiki/File:Marnie_Cromwell-Piper.PNG Public Domain

I Don't Know

Something Big: The earth is absolutely massive
I've always loved flying. I love the airport, I love free pretzels and I love sipping a ginger ale cranapple mix out of a tiny red straw. The craziest part of flying to me is the descent. It's insane to look out the window and see how tiny and monopoly like all the buildings and properties look, sky scrapers look like you could push them over with your hand and the land plots in circles and squares make you feel like you're a child playing with a toy city. The magnitude of how enormous and how small the world is all at the same time is completely baffling to me.

Something Broken: Children's Unit at the Utah State Hospital
I'm taking an abnormal psychology class this semester because it totally fascinates me. We are required to volunteer 22 hours for the semester and I somehow ended up in a unit that I don't think I'm technically supposed to be on, but it's been cool, terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. I volunteer on the children's unit. For a child to be institutionalized in a psych hospital, it has to be pretty intense for them to get there. They need to be completely uncontrollable, have almost committed murder or be a serious threat to others. To justify these kids being taken away from their families it has to be so out of hand that the benefit of treatment outweighs the damage of being away from parents. But there is so much dissonance. These boys will be in the hospital for months, with little to no parental love or closeness, they learn behaviors from each other, they hurt and have to sleep in their cell room with a sheet and a blanket. There is no one to hold them if they cry. It can't be right.

Something Artistic: Music
There is no other way I'd rather spend my money than on a good concert. I'm not moneybags over here, but I'm more than happy to shell out, travel or go to ridiculous measures to see one of my favorite artists. I think I'm my absolute happiest when I'm listening to incredible music that makes me feel things. I can't get enough of it. Now I'm obsessed with creating it on my own music that hopefully does that same thing for other people. (click here if you're curious) . I'm still not where I want to be, but the fact that music can do that for people enthralls me. I want to do that for others, and I'm not quite there yet, but I will be someday.

Something Mysterious: Death
The classic primary lesson of the glove and the hand makes sense. It does. But when someone I know dies, it still is baffling to me. The fact that they can be here, and then gone is so disheveling to me. The fact that someday my parents will die is haunting. The rest of the world will continue on, but when that day comes and the people that have been the most consistent in my life are gone I know it'll totally rock my world.

What Brings Us Together?

Something Big: The mountains are calling
Every time I walk out my front door I look up at the mountains. Whether they're covered in a white blanket, glowing under sunset rays, or basking in the midday sunlight, I can't get enough. It becomes almost a staring contest because I think that the longer I look the more I'll be able to comprehend their grandeur and beauty. The fact that something so indescribably beautiful can exist baffles me. I will stare at the mountains for twenty minutes straight, and I still can't wrap my head around it. They don't look real to me, they look like romanticized scenes from a painting. I just can't understand how the earth can be so beautiful or what humans have done to deserve something so magnificent.

Something Broken: What brings us together?
I know that marriage is all the hype in life, but I just don't really understand what the point is. If anything else had only a 50% success rate, nobody would do it. If love leads people to get married, then where does that go? If two people truly love each other in a marriage, then how do they get to the point of walking away? I guess I'm with Haddaway in asking, "What is love?" If it's this all-powerful emotion that can change the world, why can't it keep people together and happy? And also, why does everyone push marriage when you only have a 50/50 chance of ending up happy in the end?

Something Artistic or Man-Made: The sound of music
Something so obvious yet so perplexing. Notes, chords, harmonies, instruments--how is it that these can have such an effect on our emotions? I can be feeling completely as I describe in the "Something Broken" section above, but throw on "Livin' For You" by Boston, and within minutes you have me borderline crying and fantasizing about love and romance. It's beyond my understanding; it has the power to reach people from all walks of life and experience. You can have a group of a hundred people with different stories, interests, background, careers, but when "Sugar We're Goin' Down" by Fall Out Boy starts playing, you will never see a more united group of people for those three and a half minutes.

Something Mysterious: Missing Someone
Five years ago, my family suffered the loss of my dad. It was hard, but people told me it would get better. Five years later, and I don't think it's gotten better; it's just gotten normal. When I think about the pain, it feels just as strong and overwhelming as it did back then. I'm just used to it now. The human heart has such phenomenal strength to overcome, but it seems that the pain of missing someone who has died is something that the heart can't overcome. How is it that in the midst of this pain you can feel so overwhelmed that you feel like you might die, but continue to go on?

Being Me vs Being Human

Something Big:  The Past
The present is too much for me to comprehend. To try and understand the truth behind history is impossible. It is impossible for us to understand the motives of prominent historical figures and major events that took place. It is completely irrational to label history as "noble," "patriarchal," "ethnocentric," or "oppressive." There are too many details that I don't know to put a label to it. While I do my best to understand the details that I know, I will never fully understand what happened in the past. Who to credit, and who to blame.

Something Broken: My Willpower
I can tell myself that I need to study for seven hours straight, but I will not even get through the first half hour without resistance from myself. It makes me wonder; who is really controlling me? Some call it the battle of the "natural man," but that name is only words associated with a part of the psyche that is incomprehensible. We call it the "natural man" to label it; but we don't understand what it is, where it came from, or why it is always with us.     

Something Artistic: Les Miserables
Les Miserables is one of my favorite stories. The transcendent yet relatable themes leave me in awe. Terrible things happen to well-meaning characters (hence its title) yet I was more satisfied with the ending of that story than any other story I have come across. I can't tell if Les Miserables gave me more faith that justice would ultimately reign or that I could trust in the mercy of the transcendent.
     
Something Mysterious: My Interests 
I love hunting, basketball, golf, menswear, and art. But why? No matter how many times my wife makes me watch Pride and Prejudice, it does not interest me. I could try and force myself to enjoy fishing, but I will never feel fulfilled doing. Some might say that I was raised and groomed into my interest. If that were the case then my other siblings and I would have similar interests, and we do not. There is something inside of me that makes me interested in those things. The scary thing is that it is something that is out of my control. I didn't choose to have those interests, those interests resonated with a part of me that is impossible for me to explain.     

A Thousand Decisions

Something Broken:
I have anxiety. I won't put a capital "A", I'm not even certain enough about my own mental illness to characterize it like that. I worry. All the time. I grind my teeth and scrunch my shoulders. I had a panic attack in the testing center just yesterday. Most of the time, I don't even know what I'm actually anxious about. I'm just afraid. Something is wrong. My best friend is annoyed with me. I''ll never be enough at work. I'm a nuisance at best to all the people I love. I know it's wrong, but I can't stop the thoughts from coming. There's a missing link in my mind. I don't know if it'll ever be fixed.

Something Big:

My family in Kauai 2014

I was in Hawaii in 2014 for a graduation trip. We were on Kauai- a gorgeous island- and me and my dad and my brother hiked to a beach that you couldn't get to by the water. They were climbing the rocks, I found a cave. I thought it was a cave. As soon as I stepped into it, I saw that it was a tunnel. Something grabbed my soul. I had to know what was on the other side. The air was still. The beach that was only half a step behind me felt like a different universe. There was dark water between me and the other side. No way around it, no light hitting it at all. I could have been safe. Walked back to the beach. But I had to know. I walked through the water to a smaller beach on the other side. It felt important. It felt like I'd made thousands of decisions all at once.

One of my worse mishaps 

Something Man Made:
I collect fountain pens. There is something about them that pulls at me. I love the sound of their scratch on the paper. I love the feeling of good ink gliding generously out of a well-made nib. But there's more than that. The weight of it in my hand, the ink stains I invariably get on my fingers, refilling them, watching the words swirl from them- it feels like a connection to something that matters. Something I'll only ever get glimpses of. Something I can only reach for with a fountain pen in my hand.

Something Mysterious:
The way that people interact is marvelous to me. I'm a scientist. A rational thinker, and a hard worker. Everything in life can be accomplished through thinking it through and rolling up your sleeves except relationships with other people. I have good friends. I get along with my family. I have a great boyfriend. I just don't understand how any of it happened. It takes a different kind of work- irrational work. What kind of emotional currency is exchanged? How does anyone really know what anyone else is thinking? I do it just like everyone else, but I'll be darned if I understand any of it.