Utah Valley is surrounded by seven major peaks: Mount Nebo, Mount Timpanogos, Lone Peak, Provo Peak, Cascade Mountain, Santaquin Peak and Spanish Fork Peak. I have a goal of climbing all seven. Up until last week I had only climbed one of those mountains--Timpanogos. Then last week me and my friend Scott (who hereafter shall ne known as S) ventured up Lone Peak. It's elevation is 11,253 ft. Quite a difference from the Appalachian Trail. (This last stint I didn't ever go above 5,500 ft.) Lone Peak has several different ascent options. Jacob's Ladder and the Draper Ridge Trail being the most popular. Since we're too cool for popular, we took the trail less traveled: the Sawmill Trail. Sawmill doesn't exactly go up to the peak. Rather it goes up to the top of Big Willow Canyon, where you then have to pop over the cirque to the ridge of the mountain.
We started about 06:45. So early, but it was nice to get the lower elevation stuff out of the way before the heat of the day set in. As we got into middle and upper Big Willow, we started getting wet. Since it's not a very well-used trail, it was pretty over-grown with scrub oak and other vegetation, which was also full of dew. I wasn't expecting to get my socks wet on this hike, but wet they did get--almost soaking.
We stopped several times to rest/refuel with snacks and water on the way up. We finally made it up to the top of the canyon. It was bursting with wild flowers, and I'm kicking myself for not taking more pictures of them.
At the top of the canyon there's a beautiful alpine cirque. We scrambled up scree and boulders and finally made it to the ridgeline of Lone Peak. I believe our time that we made it up to the top was around 14:00. A long morning of climbing...But it was totally worth the view. From the top you could see into Utah Valley, Heber Valley, Salt Lake Valley and beyond. I wish I had brought a map to identify all the peaks with me to the top. (Another goal of mine is to know all the peaks of my beautiful Wasatch Range.)
Neither of us really wanted to return the way we came. We knew that we could descend into Bells Canyon, and with a little persuasion from me we decided to wing it and head down that way.
Note for the future: Always bring a good map with you if you plan on winging it...
We looked around for the best place to descend and thought we spotted a good slot to make our descent. It was a lot of down climbing. I was a little anxious to get down off the mountain. I was tired and knew it was going to take a while. (And perhaps I wanted to make it to the free Belle and Sebastian concert down at Twilight...) The point is, I got a little bit ahead of S. We were making rocks fall, so S decided to wait a little bit for me to get ahead of him more so he wouldn't make the rocks fall on me.
Note for the future: never get separated from the person you are hiking with; go down together, therefore, making yourself available to help the other as you down climb; you also eliminate the risk of making rocks fall on the one below.
It got to a point in the process of our down climbing that it was getting too steep to down climb anymore. I was getting extremely nervous at this time. I knew we had been dumb for choosing the path we did, dumb for separating, etc... I was worried that we were going to have to climb back up to the top and find another way down. Then a miracle happened. I saw mountain goat turds, and I thought to myself, "If a goat can climb all the way up here, there is surely a way that I can get down." Sure enough, after some traversing, I found a path that would lead me to some not-so-steep ground. The problem was that it was separated by a small glacier that hadn't yet melted. My only option was to slide down the glacier.
I'm sure you're wondering what happened to S. Well, I knew that at least he was alive because I yelled several times and finally got a response from above. (Stupid Kayte. Not cool for getting separated. Not cool.)
I sat down on the snow and inched myself slowly out to the middle of the glacier. I wanted to get out as far as I could before I started sliding to get away from some sketchy looking rocks that were sticking out. Before I could get too far I slipped.
Note for the future: Never slide down a steep glacier with only rocks to break your fall.
I slid fast. I panicked only somewhat and really dug my heels and clawed my hands into the snow to try to slow myself down. As I looked down below at all the rocks, I never really feared death, but I was terrified that I was going to get severely injured, and that was all I could think about on the way down. I was extremely fortunate and bounced twice on the rocks before I stopped completely. I got up immediately and didn't seem to have any major injuries that I could tell. I tried to take a couple of steps, but then the shock of what just happened settled in.
I'm not sure why it scared me so much, but sliding down that 50 or so feet of snow/ice was one of the scariest moments of my life. The only moment I can think of that scared me just as much, if not a little bit more, was when I fell 15+ feet off a lead climb a couple years ago. Being, in that moment, all alone made it a lot worse. I shed some (or a lot of) tears. I was sitting there for about 20 min before S finally showed up up above me. He slid down the snow as well (although I think his experience wasn't quite as emotional as mine was...). We were together again.
We made our way down into the canyon. It was all boulders. We probably hiked through about 3/4 mi of boulders before we went into some pine/spruce forests to search for the Upper Bells Reservoir Trail. We were very relieved to finally be back on a trail when we did find it. I think both of us had had enough of bush-wacking and winging it.
It was beautiful coming off Bells. The trail follows the stream all the way to the Bells waterfall, so there was plenty of water. S was a bit tired/sore/spent, so we agreed that I would hike ahead to the bottom and call my brother to pick me up and take me back to the car to bring it back in time to pick up S.
I got off the mountain about 20:30. Long day of hiking.
I have no clue what the mileage was. This guy made a very similar loop hiking/skiing, and he clocked it at 14.9 miles. I'm convinced that after reading through his route, we did slightly more--probably more in the area of 15-15.4 miles.
I'm positive that I would never recommend that route to anyone unless they went into Bells another way, but I don't regret it for a moment. All I wanted to do was climb a mountain, and I got what I wanted. I was proud of myself because the elevation didn't bother me much. (Except at the very, very top when I got slightly lightheaded, but I believe that had more to do with blood sugar levels than with elevation.) My energy levels were pretty high throughout the day, I even ran the last 2 miles from the Bells waterfall down to the parking lot because I was so eager to be done. I ended up hiking about 13 hours, which is a very long time for me. Even on the AT I never hiked longer than 10 hours every day.
S and I celebrated our getting down in one piece by a trip to the Sev for cold beverages/slurpies.
Two peaks down, five more to go...
Just a nice pano from the AT somewhere. I miss it. But I needed DC. I didn't even know it. I got to hang out with the wonderful Ceff. It's been too long since being in her company. I also got to spend some beautiful alone time in a city I love.
DC is a place I grew up visiting. I feel like I've done all the touristy things worth doing. So I set out to visit some calming, unconventional sights. In my crocs. Don't judge me. They're incredibly comfortable.
After a nice adventure that involved getting driven around on the cemetery tractor, getting hit on by the cemetery landscaper, Mario, that drove the tractor and almost peeing my pants, I finally arrived at the Adam's Memorial in Rock Creek Cemetary, or more commonly known as "Grief." This bronze statue by Augustus Saint-Gaudens took my breath away and I sat on the bench before it for some time soaking it in. It was commissioned by Adams when his wife unexpectedly took her own life. The official title is The Mystery of the Hereafter and The Peace of God that Passeth Understanding. I guess one of the reasons it struck me is because grief has been something I thought about a lot during my AT walk for some reason. And this sculpture embodied a lot of the emotion that comes with the grief we all feel at times.
I also visited the National Shrine. Or the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. And it is the largest Roman Catholic Church in the US and North America. It was breath-taking. You can see the beautiful basilica from far away as you walk up to it. And inside the ceilings are covered in incredible mosaics.
I'm so glad there exists quiet places to sit. I do that a lot I guess--sitting in the quiet. I believe I need it.
DC was a time for winding down for me. I got a manicure and a pedicure. The poor woman made all sorts of funny faces as she washed, scrubbed and grated my feet down, riding it of dead skin and caked on dirt. Then me a Ceff went to Spa World. And I'm announcing to the world that I am now a Korean bathhouse enthusiast and I would even say evangelist.
I will spread the gospel of the bathhouse far and wide. There aren't many words to describe the relaxing nature of this experience, but here's a couple: hydrotherapy, naked, cleansing, healing, hot, sweat, comfortable. We spent a solid four hours at Spa World and could have easily spent another four. And we could have, because its open 24 hours. It's a phenomenon that I knew was there, but never really understood until now.
Me and Ceff with post-Spa World faces. We are so happy and content.
Wow. The Shenandoahs were such an awesome end of my trail adventure this time around. I only hiked about 30 miles into SNP, but it was a wonderful 30 miles. The trails are wider, the hills are rolling and the switchbacks are a plenty.
I've never seen a rattle snake in the wild, but I saw two rattlers in one day. It was pretty cool. The first one was quite skittish and slithered away pretty fast when Rylu, Strider and I found it. The second one I was all alone and he was a bit more territorial. He hoped just off the trail and just stared at me. He sat like that for a moment and I started getting annoyed that he wasn't going away. So I threw a rock at him. That was a bad idea. He immediately coiled up and started his rattling. And there he sat and rattled for about 10 min. And probably longer than that, I just was done after 10 min. Not impressed Mr. Rattler. Not impressed. I went totally around the trail by bush whacking a little bit. He was still rattling as I hiked away. Little bugger.
Atop of Blackrock. Simply beautiful to sit and enjoy and be. Had I known that view was there I'd have hiked up for sunrise.
The lovely, lively group all together: me, Rylu, Strider and Jupiter. I'm telling you, we're pretty precious.
I finished my hike at the Loft Mountain Wayside, 886.5 miles from Springer Mountain, Georgia. I hiked a total of 418.5 miles in 25 days. Not too shabby. To celebrate I ordered this humongous cheeseburger.
Someday I will really get a hiker's stomach. I felt like a wimp, I couldn't even finish the burger, but I had a big plate of fries to eat too, and if it's ever fries vs burger, I'm always going to try to finish the fries and sacrifice the burger. Deal with it.
From Loft Mountain I said goodbye to my little hiker family and hitched a ride with a nice Canadian couple back to Rockfish Gap and from there I got a ride from the famous Dubose "Yellow Truck" Egleston back into Waynesboro. I went to Walmart and bought some clothes so I'd have something besides hiker clothes to wear on the train to DC. This fabulous girl and her equally fabulous husband drove down from Cville to pick me up. They gave me a shower, a shaver, a delicious Thai meal, a bed and ride to the train the next morning. Modern day heroes I say.
God bless the Bosts.
Now it's off to DC to spend some quality time with Ceff.
I have never hiked in so much rain in my life. I left Daleville on a Saturday. I tented at the Wilson during a super intense thunder and lightening storm that felt like it was right on top of me for a while. I could see and hear the lightening and thunder cracking right there. It was cool, and I was happy to be safe inside my tent.
The next day proved to be a nice walk. Instead of going to the next shelter, I opted to camp at Jennings Creek, which according to my data book had nice swimming hole. I couldn't pass that up. I got there round five o'clock and the sun was still shining. I was able to get a good swim in and I even laid out on the big rocks. That felt good. And in retrospect I was happy that I had that moment, because I didn't see the sun for the next five days.
Monday till Friday were five of the wettest days of my life. It rained every day. It was mostly drizzles and light rains, but three times there were complete downpours. I couldn't have been more wet had I just jumped in the river. The good thing about the rain is that there aren't any bugs and the morning spiderwebs that get spun across the trail are virtually non-existent. (These are, personally, two of my biggest annoyances on the AT.) Also, wildlife loves the rain.
On day I walked by four of these eastern salamanders in a row, so I decided to count how many I could see in a day. I counted 46. These guys love the damp trail.
I also saw several of these eastern box turtles. They are so cute.
Also, this is the week all the berries started to be ripe. I remember last year being so frustrated because I'd walk past bushes of blackberries that were days away from being ripe enough to pick. This time around I had ample opportunity to get my share of berries. Blackberries abounded, but my most favorite were the wild blueberries. They day I hiked over the James River I picked handfuls and handfuls of them. They were so delightfully delicious. God bless picking wild blueberries in the rain. They were a grateful distraction.
Truly though, hiking in the rain isn't as bad as you may think. Once you're wet, there's nothing you can do about it. Not only that, but once you're wet you have nothing to stop you from really tromping through those puddles and mini rivers that form on the trail. And it doesn't stop you from hiking through all the overflowing streams and springs that are suddenly brimming with so so so so much water. On the contrary, hiking in the pouring rain can be quite the fun experience. For me, as long as I know that my gear is dry in my pack and that I have a dry place to sleep, i.e. a shelter, I'm a happy hiker.
This is the James river bridge. It is the longest foot-only bridge on the AT. The rain paused for about five minute as I walked over it. It was beautiful.
My hiking buddies, Rylu and Strider finally caught up to me for the Fourth of July. (They had taken a zero in Daleville.) I was hoping I'd be among familiar company, because I'd already decided that I would be awesome and perform a four-song patriotic medley for whoever I would be camping with, and I'd prefer to do it before friends. Just call it my patriotism coming out. It was meant to be. We were at the Seeley-Woodworth shelter and someone had left a small American flag which I used as a prop as I stood up atop the fire pit and sung Yankee-Doodle, You're A Grand Ol' Flag, My Country Tis of Thee and The Star Spangled Banner for the grand finale. There may be a video of this somewhere at some point. Watch out.
The next day we had a very intense day. The downhill was The Priest. It was a 4 mile, 3000 ft, steep descent to the Tye river. I felt like I really booked it down that thing. It was a nice saw-tooth on the contour map as we had to go straight back up Three Ridges Mountain. It was a total 5618 ft of ascent and 6668 ft of descent. A good 20 mile day. (I was able to really hop up my miles after I got my trail runners. My feet were much, much morecontent in those shoes. Three Ridges was an awesome mountain to climb. The top was covered in clouds and it was super steep and rocky coming up. There was tons of thunder and it was really windy at the top. But it was flat and green up top and I felt great getting to there.
This is a pano of Spy Rock, a flattop rock that was right before I climbed up The Priest.
I rearranged my itinerary so that I would be ending up in Waynesboro, VA right before Shenandoah National Park, but I arrived in Waynesboro two days before I needed. So I decided to hike into the Shenandoahs until I had to turn around. But I did stop in Waynesboro for a stop at the outfitter to trade out my Big Agnes sleeping pad that had a very slow leak in the valve. I'd blow it up at night and within 4 or 5 hours I'd be flat on the ground. Big Agnes has an awesome guarantee on their products and makes sure that their customers are completely satisfied. I called them up and, no questions asked, they just said to bring it in to the next outfitter to trade it out. Waynesboro also called for a stay at the hotel, a shower, laundry and FOOD. Me, Strider and Rylu feasted at the Green Leaf Grill. Gourmet pizza, hamburgers, fries and some of the best artichoke and spinach dip I've ever had. Yum.
We crossed this bridge (perhaps illegally) to get to the laundromat. It was only a little bit sketchy.
A word about the trail friendliness of Waynesboro. It was amazing. There were people offering us rides left and right. I loved it! It's so nice when people are so generous and willing to help a hiker out.
Updates on the trail! Taking things slow was the best idea I could have had. My feet were so much happier. They really needed the break.
After leaving Pearisburg I hiked into The Captain's to camp. The Captain is a trail angel who lives about 30yds off the trail. He offers his yard to camp in and his fridge full of every flavor of soda imaginable. (May I recommend the peach?) To get there you have to cross a river and the Captain so cleverly designed a pulley/zipline thing to bring you across the river with your pack. It was a fun distraction.
One thing I love about hiking the AT are the wonderful and interesting people you get to meet. One night I camped with a vascular surgeon and another night a marine biologist. Then an anesthesiologist and then some elevator repair men (whom I impressed with my ability to pronounce Thyssen-Krupp correctly.) Quite regularly I was on the same hiking schedule with Rylu and Strider. We ended up sharing a lot of shelters together. Rylu is a thru-hiker and Stider is going to Harper's Ferry.
I hiked past the Keffer Oak tree which is the biggest (in diameter--almost 18 ft) oak in the southern part of the AT.
The highlight of this section of the AT for me was McAfee Knob. It's a beautiful rock outcropping that extends off the side of the mountain.
It had been raining all this day. That morning me, Rylu and Strider had all hiked over Dragon's Tooth, which is another cool rock monolith, in the rain. It was quite the experience down-climbing already slippery rock in the rain with a pack on.
From McAfee Knob, my next big stop was Daleville. Walking into Daleville was so hot with never-ending views of town up on a rolling ridge. I was so frustrated and tired at one point that I just threw my pack down and took a 30 min nap in the shade. Once down, the trail opens right onto the main drag that goes between Daleville and Troutville--about 13 miles from Roanoke. And I checked right into the Howard Johnson motel and into the bath. I soaked and showered for about an hour.
I traded out my Chacos for my trail runners in Daleville. My feet weren't recovering the way I wanted them to. Had I had more time on the trail, I would have kept hiking in them, but I knew I'd be more comfortable in my broken-in Vasques that I hiked in last year.
I also had a very tasty resupply at the Kroger. Two words: smoked Gouda.
Daleville marks 1/3 of the Appalachian Trail. It feels good to have that behind me and to know there's still so much adventure ahead of me.
I've been out here for 14 days now. Hard to believe how fast the time goes. I hiked though Pearisburg, VA (which is the town you see in the picture above) two days ago and in the next couple of days I'll be in Daleville, VA.
I'm sitting in a small shelter approximately 661.8 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia. It's raining a little bit. There are four others with me: two SOBOs and two other NOBOs like me. (Southbound and northbound.) It's a little magical sitting in a shelter while it rains. Part of it I'm sure is the knowledge that you're not hiking in it, I'm sure.
I've slowed down a whole lot. My feet have been hurting, so I pulled my mileage way down from 15-20 mpd to about 11-15 mpd. I decided it was better to not be miserable and not go as far than to go further and hate myself for it. It's amazing how important your head is when your hiking. If your head's not in it then you may as well be somewhere else. The other day I had a moment where I was done. I was ready to go home. That's when I decided it was time to chill out and smell the freaking mountain laurel.
Look how swollen my feet look in this picture (this was a week ago when my feet weren't doing very well):
My feet are doing much better; they have shrunk back almost to their normal size:
The tape around my ankles is protecting some healing blisters.
I had my first "zero" day (in which you go zero miles). I zeroed out at Woods Hole Hostel. Like my guidebook says, it really is a little piece of heaven. It's a small, self-sustaining organic farm and hostel. It's run by a lady named Neville and her husband Michael. They make amazing home-cooked meals... I got to hang out with the goats and the chickens and the ducks and the cows and the geese and the dogs and the annoying guinea hens for a day. It was a very wonderful stay.
A nice panoramic of the bunkhouse and the main house.
Neville doing the dishes. Notice the custom stained glass window with the Woods Hole owl.
She keeps all her spices in labeled mason jars on the shelf. She made fresh baked bread daily and we ate meals around the table.
After walking through Pearisburg I stayed at the Rice Field shelter. It was full of trash and the privy wasn't much to write home about, but the view! I sat out in the field at sunset and watched the sun say goodnight and simultaneously watched the huge super moon rise. It was amazing.
I'll leave you with a little bit of trail magic: some knock-off Crocs someone left at the hostel which I picked up and a beautiful view.
It's hiker midnight (9pm) and I'm signing out. This girl has got to sleep.
Day four on the trail: my feet are fairing...fair on the Chaco experiment. I have blisters in places that I wasn't ever expecting blisters. Like on the tips of my toes? What do you even do for that? It doesn't bother me too badly. As long as I have a long uphill to distract me. Yes, long uphills are a welcomed sight in my eyes. They are challenging; your feet never hurt while ascending; and they make you twenty times more grateful for a downhill when it comes. (And it always comes.)
I almost stepped on a snake today. (As per usual...) It was a blackish type snake with diamond like designs on the sides. It acted like it was going to get aggressive and rattled its tail like it was a rattler minus the rattles. The head was not in a noticeable triangular shape. Any guesses?
I hiked through the Grayson Highlands this week. I think that might be the highlight of my hike this time around. Such beautiful open balds. Rocky-tops everywhere. And PONIES. Yes, wild herds of ponies. I ran into three different herds or packs or whatever you would call them. So cute--it was ridiculous.
I just picked up my drop box in Atkins, VA, so if you wish to find me on map, there you go.
I ran into some real trail magic. There was a wooden lockbox all decorated on the outside and filled with everything a hiker could need on the inside: soap, snacks, band aids, tortillas, hand sanitizer, etc... Pictured below are some of the people that have been more or less on the same pace as me: Fat Toodles, Etc, and L Dog.
It's amazing that even cow pastures like this can just take your breath away.
So I hike, and I enjoy it. I love it. I makes me happy. And I love people who hike as well. They're my people.
I went on my first backpacking trip up in the Uinta mountains with my family when I was twelve and it was there I fell in love with long-distance walking. Six years ago I walked the last hundred miles of the Appalachian Trail in Maine with my mom and sister and it was then I fell in love with the AT. Two years ago I read the book A Walk In The Woods and it was then that I determined that I too must walk the AT. One year ago I started with my first section of the trail, walking over 450 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Damascus, Virginia in 29 days. This year, as in tomorrow, I will start the second section of my walk through Appalachia. I plan to walk from Virginia, where I left off, to West Virginia.
Stay tuned for updates, pictures, stories and details about my ongoing love affair with the Appalachian Trail. It promises to be a grand adventure, as per usual.
That one time Talib Kweli and Mos Def rapped about home birth with a midwife...
The first verse talks about an invasive hospital birth.
That second one talks about a much nicer birth at home with a midwife.
Suddenly, I love Talib even more than I did before.
I am tired.
I am more productive at night.
I sleeeeeeep in when I can, do nothing on the interweb till 3 or 4 in the afternoon. THEN I start doing whatever's on the to-do list.
Sometimes I work.
Sometimes I attend births.
Sometimes I sit/hike/laugh with friends.
Most of the times I should be studying.
I am forever needing breaks.
I rarely get them.
I always need to be outside.
I'm wearing glasses right now because that's what I do when my eyes hurt.
I skype with people who I love. A lot.
I love to be at home.
I love to make things/food with my mom.
I love to be honest.
I love to love those who love to love me back.
And I love my new bookcase because it means that my books are not in boxes and I can look at them and read them. To have them in my very presence brings me a lot of joy.
Sometimes people underestimate me. They think I am like other people. Other women. Other humans. I've come to discover that (as much as I would LIKE to be like other people) I am not. I've developed an (un)healthy amount of apathy towards many things. My rational mind perhaps has a bit more of a pull than my emotional mind. I can't expect many things out of many people. I don't like to look stupid, and will always try to exude confidence in myself, as well as other people.
AT the same time: I understand the need for vulnerability, expectations, etc... among other things in life/relationships and the balance of these two sides of myself is the most delicate of things. I depend on my heart a lot to know what direction to go, what to say, when to say it, who to talk to, who to love, who to befriend, who to reach out to.
BUT, at the risk of sounding like I have a hard, calloused, tough heart, I will say this: I HOPE. And I believe that HOPE is much different from expectation. I carry a lot of hope around with me. I see things in people and I HOPE they can be or say or do or feel the way that makes them feel good about themselves and the people around them. I HOPE that people can make changes. Follow through. Be happy. Love themselves. I HOPE so much sometimes. I HOPE all the time.
And somehow that hope helps me to not lose hope in humanity and the people I stay connected to.
Watching the whole Boston Marathon bombing debacle unfold before my eyes, live, on the television, through phone notifications from CNN, on the radio, from the people around me, makes me question hope. Why do people do sad things. (I can't even put a question mark there, because to question it would make me lose hope in humanity, and I need to believe that the majority of people are good. Are kind. That they love. That they want the best. That they see the need for generosity and tolerance.)
You've probably seen this video posted a gazillion times already, and you've probably already watched it a couple as well. But it encourages me to keep on hoping.
Some of my favorite verses found in the Book of Mormon, Moroni 7:41-48, inspire me to no end. They are the heart and soul of what I want to be. I want to radiate hope and love.
41 And what is it that ye shall ahope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have bhope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life ceternal, and this because of your faith in him according to the promise.
42 Wherefore, if a man have afaith he bmust needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope.
43 And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be ameek, and lowly of heart.
44 If so, his afaith and hope is vain, for none is bacceptable before God, save the cmeek and lowly in heart; and if a man be meek and lowly in heart, and dconfesses by the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ, he must needs have charity; for if he have not charity he is nothing; wherefore he must needs have charity.
45 And acharity suffereth long, and is bkind, and cenvieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily dprovoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
46 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—
47 But acharity is the pure blove of Christ, and it endurethcforever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.
48 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, apray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true bfollowers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall cbe like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be dpurified even as he is pure. Amen.
This past General Conference weekend I participated in the launch party for Ordain Women. I have always been interested in all things women's-rights/equality related, especially as they pertain to my church. I was deeply impressed by the website and this brought me out to the gathering held at the same time as the Priesthood session on Saturday. The meeting met my expectations to learn more about the ordination of women, feeling more connected with the other women and men involved with this movement and feeling the necessity of creating a safe space to have these discussions. After several presentations given by the panel of women, they up opened the floor for the audience to express why they were there, their personal experiences and why they support the ordination of women. I hadn't planned on contributing at this point, but as the mic was being passed around, I couldn't help but stand. This picture caught me mid-expression:
Here is the answer to the question SV asked, "What was she saying?"
In more or less words that were certainly better said at that moment I felt I had to rise and after expressing that I felt prompted to stand because of the pounding heart and other familiar pre-testimony-giving feelings, I talked about why I support the ordination of women. Here are some of the experiences I shared along with some other thoughts:
I was an LDS missionary once. I loved my work and dedicated myself to it. My favorite part of being a missionary was the express duty to love God's children. I fiercely loved the people I served in my mission. During an interview with my mission president, my sweet president congratulated me for my hard work. He then told me that if I was an elder he would have called me to serve as a Zone Leader (a sort of leader over a group of missionary companionships in a geographical area). At the time this was a wonderful complement, but as time went on and I thought about this, I realized this is something we should never have to say--to anyone. "If you were more or less this, then you could be something better or more important..." We should never make people feel like they are less than a person or less qualified to be something because of who they are innately.
I am now a student midwife. I have the great opportunity to help women through the process of birth in their homes. I can't tell you how many times in the past year I have found myself wishing for the authority to lay my hands on a woman's head or belly as she labors and to leave a blessing on her, to bless her body as it passes through the sacrament of birth. I have always expressed sympathy to the women who have desired to hold the priesthood, but I have never particularly felt moved to seek for this gift. I can thank my journey of becoming a midwife for changing that.
On the road to seeking equality, I believe that returning to the ordination of women will bring greater strength to families in the church. I believe that the correct parallel for motherhood is fatherhood, not priesthood. I believe that asking questions faithfully brings us closer to our Heavenly Parents. I believe in continuing revelation and am grateful my church does as well.
I love my church. I love my leaders. I have a small, but stalwart testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. When I struggle, I hold on to the things I know and the things I believe.
I want dialogue about this. If you have questions, please ask. Leave a comment here, email me, visit the above link for Ordain Women. This isn't about proving points or telling people they are wrong, but about understanding and seeking answers.
I’ve learned a lot of things this week. Let’s just say it
was hard week. Like, really hard.
It truly pays to sleep when you can
Follow your instincts always
Keep a clear and sound mind under pressure
React with confidence or not at all
Be true to yourself and your personal integrity
Eat good food and drink lots of water
Communicate to reduce resentment
Hold it in when you need, and let it out when
you can, but never keep it inside
Crying is a release and shoulders to cry on is a
blessing
Writing helps the process of processing
Delegate
Ask for help and give help when needed
Take a day off
Know your boundaries
I hit a wall earlier this week (although it felt more like a
brick to the face). I let it get the best of me and felt horribly drained mentally,
emotionally and physically because of it. I’ve never felt so discouraged—I not only
felt like I can’t be a midwife, but that I don’t want to be a midwife. Then I connected with my sister midwives and
felt that release. A relinquished weight. The sharing of the burden. Those women understand like no one else can. They know the feelings you get. These feelings of sadness come and go—going
more than coming. The calling is still there. The calling to help, support,
love, teach, soothe and care for women throughout the process of birth. You
cannot abandon a calling. It’s part of who you are, and it will be with you
always.
The key is balance. And this is a theme that is a constant
in my life. I find the greatest happiness when I feel like I am balanced. And I
am so aware of my imbalanced ways right now, and I'm working on it.
I'm sitting at work, observing a patient who has schizophrenia. He's a very nice gentleman, and he talks to himself a lot. Earlier, I overheard him say what I thought was the portugues word for darkness. He probably was saying something else. I don't think he speaks portugues. But it got me thinking about this day and the past year simultaneously.
This day I woke up and it was snowing. It was dark and dreary outside as I drove to work and it made me sad. Oh I'm longing for Spring. And light. Light all the time. I want to wake up early to the sun and go to bed late with it as well.
This year had so many dark moments. A friend once said that I'm an extremely positive person. But not to a fault. I think I can realize the positives AND the negatives of a situation and be appreciative of both.
I think there's something important about embracing dark moments for what they are. Not to be taken over by them, but to acknowledge their existence and perhaps even purpose in our development.
Yes, I said I thought darkness was important. I do. Just as I believe light is important. Darkness is not a bad thing. Just different.
Sometimes you will find yourself reading a blog and you will have the following thought process:
1. this person is super full of themselves--how many selfies can you take of yourself??
2. why the hell am i looking at this blog???
3. oh shoot.
4. i can't believe i wasted minutes of my life reading that thing, when i could have been watching a cool youtube video (when i really should have been doing homework.)
5. guess i better blog about it. (when i should be doing homework)
6. and post a selfie of me doing what i wish i was doing right now.
Sometimes you need a little cleansing. Souls need it. And I needed it today.
I forgot about so many things backed up in my head and on my hard drive, and it was good to say goodbye to them. It feels good to be done. To press DELETE and not look back.
I sat in church yesterday and I listened to a man who knew that God loved him. I love listening to people talk about their personal relationships with God. It's sacred and you rarely get to be in the same room to hear such sincerity. I'm glad it happened yesterday and I'm glad I was there to hear it. It reinstated some faith in the conversion process. It still happens and it's still powerful.
My heart aches sometimes. Most of the time it's for inexplicable reasons. It's a picture. It's a song. Its a sentence read in a book. Then it hits and it kills me. I can feel the heart muscle tighten and we all know that tight muscles ache.
I wish there was someone I could go to to work this ache out. But then again, it usually dissipates before it becomes a problem.
The only thing that has ever been guaranteed to work for me is nature. Rolling mountains, wilderness, desert. Quiet nights, whistling mornings. Stars, moonrises and sunrises.
It makes me cry a baby bit.
This reminds me.
I hope my life is heading in the right direction. Serious doubts surface sometimes and those doubts are scary for me to feel.
Oh, take me away. I want crisp air. I want green. I want warmth. I want clean thinking.
This is why you should get to know someone in the wintertime. It might be the saddest time of the year.
Arizona sunrises. 
