What is Inspiration?

I've always loved this song, but after my cousin showed me this video, I have so much more appreciation for it. Check this out..

As I said before, I've loved the song "Bleeding Love" since it first came out. But after watching this dance to it, it has so much more meaning. It's funny, because I've always thought that random clips on YouTube and TV show bits have been really cool, but not necessarily "inspiring." In fact, I become a little annoyed by some of the things my friends send me via email or text that are to be in context "inspirational." However, when I watched this video, it didn't inspire me to change the world, but it actually made me think about how sad it is that so many people and families are going through this type of situation. To be honest, I had chills. I was absolutely shocked at how a video one minute and fifty seconds long could make me consider the state people are in today. I couldn't imagine living a life close to perfection, and then having it vanished so quickly.

I had been dancing since I was four years old to the end of my eighth grade year. There's something about dancing that is miraculous. It's how you express your feelings just through the movements of your body. Yet it's not always "body language." You can show anger, frustration, love, joy, depression, and every angle of your personality. Expression is to show how YOU feel. It's up to you if you want to perform it or not. It's like grasping your feeling in your hand and letting it go severely or delicately, and sometimes a combination of both. When I first started to learn hula as a little girl, one of the first things my mom said before I learned a single step or hand motion is "you tell a story." Whether you're telling your story, or somebody else's, whatever you do when the music comes on is what you want your audience to know. What's amazing about this video is that far too many people know this story, and you can experience every emotion to its extreme. So in the end, it's always okay to show if you're bleeding love.

Human by Jon McLaughlin

Summer plans have changed pretty drastically.

My cousins came to visit their newborn nephew/grandson, and now the cousin my age is staying another 3 weeks with me.

Money.

I've realized that I actually enjoy talking to adults more than teens. 

I know. It's really odd. I can't figure out what my deal is. 

There was a stake event last night and I found myself conversing in a circle of adults more than once.

Or even with an adult one on one.

Hm. I'll have to take some time to figure that one out.

But I'm going to 6 Flags tomorrow. 

More flags, more fun.

Bring on the flags.

My fellow bloggers...

I'm a greenie, rookie, whatever you want to call it to blogging. wanna give a hand in how to makeover my page from this jade green number? I'll take anything.

Bittersweet with Dr. Pepper.

iPod or cell phone? For me...iPod hands down. There's no doubt I use it more. My brother Trey pointed out that a phone is a leash where my parents are the domineering owners and we kids are the panting pets. In fact, my mom's contact name has always been "The General." Now don't get me wrong, I love my parents to death, and of course they must always check in to make sure their kiddies are okay. That's fair. However, that doesn't mean that I don't get annoyed every once in a while. 

 

So anyway, Treybo dropped my iPod in Mama's cup of Dr. Pepper. To tell you the truth, we both laughed after it happened. I figured that my infamous pod would pull through as it always has, but it didn't. How could this happen?! It got snow wedged up its plug while I was snowboarding, and it never stopped playing "Ain't Too Proud To Beg." My dog had the whole thing in the grinding of his teeth after dinner, and still played "Human" by Jon McLaughlin as well as The Killers. It even survived a rainstorm on the grass after the 4th of July while playing "America," you know, the soulful one by Ray Charles in The Sandlot. The Pod awoke to sprinklers one morning on the hammock and decided it could fight them off with Jack Johnson. No, it never paused....until the cup of Dr. Pepper. 

 

I'm guessing you all think that I should yell at my brother and never forgive him for such an act. But I've actually taken on this theory of thinking about a situation before you say anything dumb. You may have heard of it before. So I did exactly that, and all has gone well so far. I told Treybo that my pod isn't working, and he apologized, and we both actually kind of chuckled about it. Who knows why. So I had a little revelation, if you want to call it that, today in Costco about my iPod situation. Mom was printing out pics for Trey's invitation to his farewell, in which he looks pretty stunning, and I wanted to go check out some new iPods in the store. I came to find that Costco had no iPods to be found, however, I was fortunate to stumble upon a massive table stacked with books. And that's when my new obsession was introduced.

To my brother Leland James

Awoke to a thunderstorm this morning, and couldn't stop smiling. Thoughts and memories have been rushing through my mind as I have gazed at every crack of lightning. The last time I saw a storm like this was on a humid summer morning when I was about 6 or 7, and I watched the storm carry on with my brother LJ. I was in my room and he was in his. I wanted to see what my family was doing, and as I walked by his bedroom, I saw him on his bed hypnotized by the pounding and flashing in the hazy sky. I remember sneaking in, probably in one of my dad's gargantuan T-shirts, and crawling into the bed with LJ. He gave me a hug and kiss as usual, and without a word, he and I watched the power of nature at its most extreme. 

 

When I awoke this morning to such pandemonium, I quietly made my way upstairs to LJ's room after turning off Zazu gawking on the main menu of The Lion King that my cousins and I watched last night. I snuck into LJ's bed and just watched as I did that one summer morning. Each crack of thunder would conjure a memory, a thought, or even a piece of history. I recalled my first year of Girl's Camp, when a girl in my tent awoke to a raging thunderstorm, and I awoke to her crying. She and I both remember praying that restless night for comfort and for safety. I thought of how thunder is a type of power. Ancient Native Americans saw it as a spiritual power that controlled the salvation of anything living. Then I think of my own heritage, the Polynesians...how they were tested with survival on the seas and the things they would do to protect their families and loved ones. Prince Eric in The Little Mermaid even came to mind when he saved his dog on a burning ship during a raging tempest, followed by the awakening to a babe with perfect red hair singing to him as the sun rose on the shore. I love Disney. 

 

At this very moment, I smell something burning, and the sirens have already started. It's amazing how a storm can destroy and heal, and how it can come and go so easily. It's astonishing how such power and energy can dominate in a place for so long, then vanish and leave the rain to calm everything down. So as I gaze out my window and see the lightning fading and the rain falling, I dedicate this thunderstorm, this moment, and these memories to my brother Leland James.

The Little Things

It's the little things in everyday life that define you as you. It's when you woke up every morning at 5:30 and you're already late to go to a church seminary class to read scripture...and for the most part, you've done a pretty good job not falling asleep. And in this class, you've actually enjoyed reading the New Testament with the acception of the hundreds of cereal boxes and Disney coloring pages as a distraction on the slow and restless days. It's when you put your school uniform on to go to a Catholic school a state away. And you're not even of the Catholic faith. It's the time when you played cards with a 3 year old for two and a half hours and was tired of it two hours after you started. But you couldn't give in because the kid's feelings would have shattered if you ditched. It's the time you sat in your brother's room and read almost every signature on his wall that he's collected over the past five years. It's the time when your other brother was taking care of a million and one mission necessities, and you sat in the car reading the dictionary. and loved every minute of it. It's the time you talked about life and death with a girl in your school who is known for only judging and despising way too many people. It's when you taught your next door neighbor how to crack an egg, and she's 16 (17 in two days). It's when you question and argue with your mom about the vaccuum hose for fifteen minutes, realizing that you could have finished the kitchen floor already during that time. It's when you sit in your bed in the morning and listen to Lionel Richie over and over again. It's when you thought you were supposed to be born in the 80's and there was some kind of mistake. It's when you set your alarm to watch the sunrise. It's when you play Phase 10 for hours with your cousins and laughing takes up the time. You only got to phase 4...and you were 2, 3 even 4 phases ahead of everyone. It's when you were legitimately mad at yourself because of your awful memory. It's when you were wishful thinking, and then wished you wouldn't think like that. Be yourself. When you think about the little things, you're in for a solid time. Even when it's absolutely ridiculous or funny or even obnoxious. You've just gotta love it.