*goes running once* *has to take five ibuprofen before going to sleep*

 My anxiety has reared its ugly head once again, and this time, instead of lamenting about mental illness on Instagram, I decided to delete the app and go for a run. And now my FitBit actually has steps on it and I've remembered I have muscles in my shoulders for the first time in years and I feel like I'm moving towards something. Literally and not-so-literally.

Could this be strength?! Or something like it?

I could talk all day about how many good things I have pushed away because of anxiety and how little good that did me (shocker), but what I really wanna say is probably the most obvious thing in the world. Luckily, only three people still read this blog and one of them is me and the other is my mom.

You can't get over your anxiety by sitting in it. That's like saying you can't get dry if you keep sitting in a puddle. WOW AM I GOOD AT METAPHORS OR WHAT (definitely or what). 

You have to move.

I'm reading the Old Testament right now (for the first time ever, all the way through. I KNOW) and that book of scripture is basically just God asking his children to do the most anxiety-inducing things you can imagine. Abraham? Sacrifice your son. Abraham's wife? You're going to have to wait 100 years before you have a son. And then I'm going to ask your husband to sacrifice him. Oh, and can we talk about how infertility is a huge theme in the Old Testament? It's just...a lot. A lot of hard things these people had to go through. And that's not just in the Old Testament, but it's definitely got that theme of "sojurning in the wilderness while waiting on the Lord" kinda feel.

But none of the prophets you hear about in the Old Testament or their children or their wives sat around waiting for something to happen, waiting for God to bless them. They did what he asked, always, without waiting, and that kind of faith is exactly the kind I need to get over anxiety. To get past my own mental roadblocks that tell me "this thing is out of your control and therefore everything will go wrong."

Do you know how often that's true? 100% of NEVER.

The last thing I scribbled in my sketchbook was this note from my phone, and I have no idea where it came from (it's not from me, that's for sure):

You cannot see the gift in what you resist.

when trials are like, way unflattering

I found this in ye olde camera roll today:

This is a picture of me one month and four days before I met Houston. I was feeling real depressed about my current state of affairs....or lack thereof? Hence my puffy eyes, from crying a lot.

Logan was getting colder, I was not sleeping, grading papers was hard, why was I here?? I had felt so right about the whole shindig, and then nothing seemed to make sense after I moved my whole life up north. It was just too hard. I had not expected to feel so alone.

Now, it would have been nice if an angel, or probably my Great Grandma Ruth (because I think she and I are very much alike), had come down to visit me on November 14th, 2015, and said "Everything is going to be freaking o-KAY McKenzie. Cry a little bit, but then wipe your eyes so you can see what's coming next..."

And maybe IF she had done that, I would've been able to endure a little bit more gracefully. And maybe she did, in her own way, and I didn't notice at the time, but the point is, I got to the end of that semester and then I met Houston. It was only a time span of two months.

I recently made a really tough decision regarding my job, and I made what I think is the right choice (based on the extremely unsettled feeling I had about the alternative option). Well, my life hasn't turned around since then. In fact, there have been quiiiite a few times where I have questioned my decision, or just looked back at myself to say "Uh, what were you thinking? Why did you do that?"

It basically comes down to faith--not faith that you will see the miracle, but faith that you might not. At least not yet. And that is the hardest kind of faith, at least for me.

It's so hard to squeeze your eyes shut and kinda jump over the cliff towards an unknown. Looking at this photo was like a gentle love tap from above, as if my heavenly parents were saying "We know you better than you know yourself. Trust us trust us trust us trust us."

So I will. I'll probably still have to do it with one eye open, though.

my life begins and ends in cemeteries

You're like, obviously? Well, maybe not about that whole "beginning" thing.

Hear me out.

The first time my husband and I said the word "marriage" in our relationship, we were in a cemetery. Eating chips and salsa. It just made sense.

After a really bad breakup, I wandered to the local cemetery one night and read the headstones and somehow felt okay. I was still kind of falling apart, but I was connected to something. Someone. They may be dead, but I can always tell they're there, making sure nobody steals the Memorial Day flowers off their graves (that's what my resident ghost duties are going to be, I think). And just like that scene in Dead Poets Society, they were whispering to me...carpe diem. Or more likely (and less romantically), they were saying get your life together. This boy is no good for you. Run far away. Which is basically the same thing.

I've had really honest conversations in cemeteries, with myself and with others (living people). I think I've figured it out. A cemetery is a kind of bridge between death and resurrection. So it would make sense that old ideas I had about myself died there with a kind of clarity only reserved for spiritual moments. And I can almost always feel it, that fist bump of solidarity from beyond the wall (door?) separating us and them, and they're saying it's okay to let go and be reborn a little.

Just a little though. I can only take so much rebirth.

*wink emoji*

photos from Scotland, one of my favorite haunted places (cemeteries and old buildings everywhere!)

haunted houses

File this one under "Things You Shouldn't Do When Your Mind is Being Ravaged by PMS."

I am, and have always been, a sentimental sap. As such, I cry whenever I see pictures of my siblings as babies, hear a song that unburied me from an avalanche at a rough time in my life, or drive past the Provo Temple any time ever, because let's face it, that place was my second home during one of the harder years of McKenzie Grows Up.

The other day I was looking at housing in Oregon and Washington, just because (no mom it's not what you think) (maybe it is) (but not now!).

I already know what it's like to live in the Pacific Northwest, but if you don't, well here's a rundown:

• Clouds. You better get used to seeing the veins under your skin for the rest of your life because the sun will only grace yo' face for two months of the year (three if you're lucky).
• People let their grass die in the summer (those two months I mentioned). Everything is brown and shrubby and then suddenly it's green again, almost like Dorothy stepping from a black and white world to one that's Technicolor. 
• People care a lot about marijuana. 
• Your food will mold instead of grow stale.
• You're not allowed to say "Merry Christmas" at school.
• It's frickin' expEN$IVE (compared to where I live now)
• Most importantly, you can live by these landmarks:

I have a special kind of nostalgia reserved for Oregon. Everyone has that nostalgia for the place they grew up. And it's just the pits. It's horrible, because a lot of us don't live where we grew up, and we can't scratch that sentimental itch just by taking a short jaunt in the Hyundai. 

A short jaunt to my old house is a day's drive. 

Anyway, when I was looking at housing, I wandered over to Google Maps, which has a satellite image feature. And maybe I used (abused?) it, but it was all in the name of sentimentality. When I'm dead I'll go back to these places just by teleportation, and then I can peek in the windows whenever I want and rattle the pipes and fold their laundry for them. Yeah, that'll scare 'em.

It's probably not the smartest idea to look back at a favorite place through a lens--it romanticizes it too much, makes all the bad stuff that happened kinda vaporize. But you know what, maybe I don't care. Maybe I don't even remember the bad stuff anymore. And maybe it wasn't bad at all. 

the house I grew up in (and my dad, too)

the last house we lived in before we moved (those trees used to be shorter than me)

Camp Alpine: a formative place if there ever was one

paying attention what it's worth

source

This is an opinion post (as are all of them, because this is a blog). If you don't like it, that's okay. The great thing about opinions is that you don't have to give them a second thought. You don't have to react at all. Isn't it great?

Once upon a time not long ago at all, I love(d) Instagram. A little too much. I kept reaching for my phone even when it wasn't there (this is very embarrassing for me to admit). Any time I did some kind of "cool" activity, I thought about what my caption was going to be the entire time I was doing the thing. Sometimes I would get on Instagram to look up somebody specific, start scrolling, get completely distracted, forget why I was on, close it, then remember, open it up again...and the cycle continued.

I couldn't sit through any leisurely activity anymore without "looking something up" on my phone (IMDB--"What else has this actor been in?" Wikipedia--"What true story is this movie based on?" "Oh this totally reminds me of...." -Check Instagram again). I couldn't sit still, I couldn't wait in a doctor's office or at the mechanic's or anywhere for longer than 5 minutes without my phone. The only "safe" place was church, where I didn't open social media apps, but I still caught myself "scrolling" during any in-between-meetings time, looking at my photos, checking the news, the weather.

I was not paying attention to anything anymore.

When you want to become a writer, the first advice you'll get, whether it's from a published author or your second-grade teacher, is to write down everything. You don't have to know everything--you just have to pay attention. Your job is to observe. The words come later.

The first time I committed to this practice was in 10th grade. My journal was a tattered, purple college-ruled notebook full of playlists, angsty sonnets I wrote about the troubles of being 16 (oh what did I know?), and observations. I still remember one day sitting in the car outside Albertson's while my mom went to get milk; a woman sat in her own car adjacent to mine, and she looked distraught. She wasn't having a good day from what I could tell. No tears, but her eyebrows met in the middle like a half-hearted handshake and her hair was just...everywhere. Not on purpose.

She was also eating Tootsie Rolls at an alarming rate. I started to worry she was going to choke because of how fast she was shoveling them in, like she was on a deadline. I wrote about this in my journal and came up with a list of reasons she might be binging on Tootsie Rolls. The reason didn't really matter--I didn't need to know. It was just something out of the ordinary I happened to notice because I was not looking down at a screen.

Now, you could argue that people-watching, eavesdropping, all of that, is invasive.

Yeah, maybe it is. But I have no idea who that woman was. If I had, I wouldn't have written about her (without changing her name, of course). I didn't take a picture of her and send it to anyone saying "OMG LOOK AT HER WHAT IS SHE DOING." I did not post this hypothetical photo on a garbage-forum so that others could pick it apart and analyze why she was doing the unthinkable--EATING TOOTSIE ROLLS HOW DARE SHE (I am not very successfully alluding to Get Off My Internets, or GOMI, one of the worst websites in the known universe).

I felt a kind of empathy that comes when you take the time to look at a person--instead of judging them or comparing yourself to them, you ask yourself how is she/he like me? And then, instead of How can I be more like him/her, you say, How can I help that person? 

Instagram had/has its benefits: you can feel connected to friends you actually never talk to IRL, you can commiserate over similar day-to-day feelings and experiences with people you might not have before the invention of the internet, you can make your life look more interesting than it really is, you can receive validation for doing things you love. Most of those things, if not all, are good.

But man, every time I scrolled I felt like a robot. I felt zero connection to any of the squares on the screen. I pressed "like" not because I actually felt inspired by the person or the photo, but because I felt like I had to, because the person was my "friend."

Here is the real truth that you don't see on my Instagram account:

• I have virtually zero friends in Logan, save for my husband. On the weekends, we stay home and do laundry and watch movies. When we invite people over, they usually can't/don't come. Shoulder shrug emoji.
• My weight is perfectly healthy, but seeing all of those swimsuit pics on Instagram (which I can't seem to annihilate from my explore page no matter how hard I try), I feel kind of bad about it. 
• I cry at least once a week about what I'm doing with my liiiiiife I can't believe I still don't know
• I want to be a more spiritual person but I am not the best at cultivating this every day.
• I want to be able to speak my mind more often, but I usually keep my mouth shut.
• I get really jealous of everybody's else lives, their book collection, their never-ending travels, their wardrobes, their babies, their huge twitter following, their muscles, their drive, their testimonies, their stage of life, their budgeting skills, their houses, their massive skincare collection...and on and on it goes.

At the end of December, I began to feel these familiar feelings again, feelings of not having "enough," especially time to do what I really loved, which was create. I wasn't creating anything, except some "ideal persona" on the internet. Who was she? Did I really want to be her? 

I didn't. 

So I signed out, I deleted the app, and I got out my notebook again. The cover simply says "Write." All the inspiration I thought had been completely wiped off the face of Planet McKenzie in some plague of self-indulgence came back, and it was like, Oh yeah! I remember this. I remembered what I had to do. The words came back suddenly, like a flash flood, and I realized they hadn't left. They'd just been dammed up, stored up for later, and as soon as I cracked open the dam of distraction, out they came. 

I still love Instagram. And you should know, since deleting it, I have felt more alone than ever. *Universe whispers IRONY very loudly* 

But I'm taking walks again. I'm starting to see things plainly. And best of all, I see people more clearly now. They're just people. They're human, just like me. And humans deserve the kind of attention that comes from really looking at a person--and you can't do that through a screen.

@ my future: don’t be hasty

Tonight I was packing up my room for the umpteenth time + all the STUFF (pointless stuff) I’ve accumulated over the years and I started to think, as one does....when I started to realize how much of myself has been collecting itself behind me, like a little trail. So I started to get a little nostalgic, because duh. I have so many journals full of entries like this one:

“Sometimes I just WANT to be married and sometimes I’m content being alone. I think I need to be with someone who makes me prefer not being alone, because I honestly really like it.”

Yeah. Yep. Did you know I was two days overdue because I was just too comfy in my mom’s womb? (sorry mom) The doctors even put her on Pitocin, but I would not budge. She got into a Jacuzzi and I floated around happily. #INTROVERT She chewed on ice chips through those contractions and I was like “No thank you, I’m not coming out!”

I’ve always kept myself far from change--as far as I could, anyway. But then 2014 happened. The Butterfly Year. Is that we call those? The year (or years) of life when you metamorphasize from a fuzzy, hungry, fat caterpillar who mostly sleeps into...A CREATURE THAT FLIES! (one is obviously better than the other) That was my year. As evidenced by those aforementioned journal entries (many of them stained with tears), that was the year God really tested me...at times to the point where I thought I would surely break.

I filled up word documents with quotes to help heal the wounds. And I wrote. I prayed, and I ran. Yes, literally running away from my problem(s) helped. I talked to my parents probably more than I ever had before. And slowly, I healed. But then I was a different person--a better version of myself. And that person wanted different things than Kenzie 1990-2013 had wanted. Or maybe she just wanted to obtain those things differently. I mean, nothing was working my way. I decided to bend.

“And we, ourselves, also, through the infinite goodness of God, and the manifestations of his Spirit, have great views of that which is to come; and were it expedient, we could prophesy of all things.

And it is the faith which we have had on the things which our king has spoken unto us [faith in Christ] that has brought us to this great knowledge, whereby we do rejoice with such exceedingly great joy.”

Mosiah 5:3-4 (emphasis added)

I finally finished applying for grad school, after dragging my feet for ages. Seriously--I knew I should apply for grad school a week before I graduated from BYU-Idaho. In 2012. I took the GRE in Fall 2013. Didn’t bother looking at the results because I wanted to stay right where I was. But after 2014, I decided to stop ignoring those promptings I was getting and just see what happened. So I did. I moved to Logan without knowing a single soul there, save for Emily, who let me stay in her house for a week (I still love you for that, Em. And for the pillow chocolates). I lived out of my car for that week, too. I was so embarrassed to be driving around the town with pillows and lampshades and boxes in the backseat of my car. I didn’t eat very much because I didn’t get paid until October 1st (sorry mom...again).

I started teaching college English classes--something you never would’ve caught me imagining, let alone actually doing, not even a year before. I began to write again--for real. Words came out of me that I didn't know were there. I cried a lot. I kept praying, man. I didn't give up but I wanted to all the time. The insomnia that first semester of grad school nearly did me in (BaRF). Something funny happens after you turn into a butterfly--you don’t become invincible. Hard things still happen to you. In fact, their frequency probably increases a little bit. But dontcha see? It’s because you were never meant to be a butterfly or a caterpillar or any kind of insect because you’re a human, dangit! And humans are divine.

As soon as I began to let go of all the things I wanted to control about my life and give them to someone who knew me better than I did, my life changed. I changed. Everything about the last two years is still surreal to me. Every bit of it. I could’ve never guessed that any of it would happen.

And so, if you’re worried or anxious about your future, thinking that maybe something you really, really want isn’t in the cards for you...well, I bet it is. And it’s probably gonna be even better than you think, because you’re not a butterfly yet. Have I beaten that metaphor to death yet?

I re-read those journal entries from 2014, and guess what? I got everything I was mourning over/praying for, but it came to me tenfold.

Don't give up. Don't do it. It's a trick.

for the afternoon crowd

Ooooh, those trials of faith will really get you to stop and think, won't they? Not a day goes by when I don't feel like my faith is getting tested a little bit more than it was the day before. Heavenly Father must expect some great things from me, and that's why he's testing me. I can only hope I'm doing a good job. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it.

I was talking to a friend recently about application. Not application of foundation (different blog, move on, people, move on) (but if you want to apply your foundation correctly go with a Beauty Blender, ok bye).

We were talking about "gospel blogs" and the like and she told me she'd been looking for something with a little bit more substance. All of us probably read Pinterest quotes all the time and post them on our Instagram, we post a video and hashtag it with the latest #sharegoodness derivative, we gush on our Facebook page about how grateful we are, but I don't know if we talk enough about application.

David O. McKay articulated it best:

"Faith in God cannot of course be other than personal. It must be yours; it must be mine; and, to be effective, must spring from the mind and heart. What we need today is faith in the living Christ, which is more than a mere feeling, but a power that moves us to action—a faith that will put purpose into life and courage into the heart. We need the gospel of application." (source)

I know that for myself, the gospel makes a lot more sense to me when I use it. Well duh. Of course it does. If you never drove your car and just stared at it sitting in your driveway, you'd never learn how to drive or how to be around other drivers or understand traffic laws. You'd just have a potential way to get around. But of course it wouldn't do you any good. The gospel is the same way. The only way I can make the gospel work for me is when I use it every day. I'm still figuring out what that means for me, but everyone has personal things they're working on. If you want a great talk about that, I would check out Elder Lawrence's "What Lack I Yet?" That was a wonderful talk about application.

I'm not sure why this is on my mind right now, but here it is. It's not very elegant or complicated, but that's the gospel. It's simple. Next time you post on social media about #sharinggoodness, try asking yourself what you can do to apply what you've just shared. That's what I'm trying.

burning stuff

a place you can go if you want to dropkick fear into outer space

I wrote a poem last week. The first line said, "Before you burn something you have to say its name." I think I need to talk about this some more, and what I mean by "this" is that four letter word we all know pretty well by now. Fear. Before we let go of something that's been eating us alive, we have to acknowledge our attachment to it. Yeah, humans love fear. They love it. It's a frappin' disease.

This morning I woke up to see that one of my dear friends had posted a picture of Belgium. At first I thought it was kind of random, I mean I knew she had gone on her mission there but why post it now? She'd been back for a few years. Then I scrolled further down the page. For some reason, this time struck me differently than all the other times--like this realization that we're dealing with a really, really evil adversary right now. Satan is dead set on this whole enmity thing. But I'm not gonna let him win, not today.

I sat in my bed for awhile and I cried. Like, really cried. It was so weird and rare (ha!). I think the combination of what had happened + some people's commentary on it was already so frustrating to me. Because the main message of society/the internet/whoever wants attention at the moment (Trump, I'm talking to you) was this: be afraid. It's going to happen to us next. Let's round up all the people who could be associated with this and get rid of them. Let's hole up in our houses and never leave. Let's bully people into submission. Yes, let's. That sounds like a great solution.

I want to be very clear: fear will get you absolutely nowhere. This is an eternal truth I have learned by experience, but if you haven't gotten there yet, fear not! Here's some scriptures to back it up:

1st Nephi (basically the entire book) *emphasis added
1st Nephi 4:6-7 "And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do....nevertheless I went forth."
1st Nephi 12:23 "...after they had dwindled in unbelief [a symptom of fear=staying put], they became a dark, and loathsome, and a filthy people, full of idleness and all manner of abominations."
1st Nephi 17:3 "And if it so be that the children of men keep the commandments of God he doth nourish them, and strengthen them, and provide means whereby they can accomplish the thing which he has commanded them; wherefore, he did provide means for us while we did sojourn in the wilderness." (they were in one place, but moving forward despite not knowing the future)
Helaman 5:34 "they were immovable because of the fear which did come upon them..."
Alma 12:10 "...he that will harden his heart, the same receiveth the lesser portion of the word..."
Matthew 14:3-31 But when he saw the wind boisterous, he [Peter] was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?"

We all know what the opposite of fear is! Faith. But faith is dang hard to execute. Trust me, I know. I cannot tell you how many times in just the last five years of my life that Heavenly Father nudged me to do something that was totally ridiculous to me (at the time). Exhibit A: grad school. But I finally learned (through many heartbreaking lessons) it was easier to just move forward instead of sitting still in fear. And it was so much more rewarding. Faith is like that, you know.

"Just as doubt, despair, and desensitization go together, so do faith, hope, and charity. The latter, however, must be carefully and constantly nurtured, whereas despair, like dandelions, needs so little encouragement to sprout and spread. Despair comes so naturally to the natural man!” Neal A. Maxwell, one of my favorites ever, said that, and it's true. Why do we love despair so much? Why?? Why do we hold onto its skirts and let it drag us through the mud? Is it exhilarating? Maybe for a second. I guess you do feel like you're moving somewhere, even if it's an imaginary somewhere that you've only made up so you have someplace for your doubt to land. 

If there's something making you stew with fear right now, pray for help to overcome that. I know you can--that's part of the enabling power of the Atonement. The Savior makes it possible to overcome the insurmountable--like living in a world that deals with the kind of news we got today on a regular basis. 

So if you're reading this right now, today, and you're about to do it--don't. Don't succumb to fear--stick it in the fire. 

It's a dirty pirate, anyway. And it takes no prisoners.

even Nephi cried himself to sleep sometimes

this is also how I react when people ask me about things I don't wanna deal with

Regarding the title, I promise it's true. 2 Nephi 33:3, look it up. Not sacrilegious.

The point of this post is just to give you a little push. A boost (not like the kind they give you at Jamba Juice--you know, those pointless "vitamin" boosts that don't do anything except empty ur wallet). This year has been tough for me. A lot of things didn't go the way I wanted them to. I'm still learning faith and patience. I'll probably still say that 50 years from now. But really. Life isn't really easy. Even those people you probably follow on Instagram who have a seemingly perfect life...they probably don't. Filters, man. They cover up stuff.

ANYhow. This is just to remind you that you can do it. If you're discouraged about something or a lot of things, you need to let go of them right now. It's hard--it's so hard for me--to do that. To give my problems to Heavenly Father and say "Here, I have done everything I can with this and I can't do anymore. Please help." I'm bad at asking for help. Heavenly Father wants us to ask for help. Not for him, though. For us! C.S. Lewis said, "I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time--waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God--it changes me." It changes me. And man, if anybody needs changing it's me. 

It's all of us. 

Yesterday our home ward got a new bishop, and he talked about how interesting it was that God had "softened" his rough edges over the years, preparing him for this calling. He said we all start out kind of rough and jagged. But our experiences + the Savior soften us up. He molds us perfectly, even though it hurts. Dangit, it hurts. 

Now if He could just make my Spotify Discover Weekly really good, life would be golden.

Now that's sacrilege! 

the proper way to fill holes

No I am not talking about grouting tile. No way in he*k am I gonna talk about that on this blog. Do I look like I know anything about home improvement? No. Just take out the "me" from "home" and boom, you'll get what this blog is about. ho improvement....

*silence*

Okay. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I wrote this last night when I was feeling very emo. So watch out. Grab yo kleenex or skip this one if you wanted to laugh. Srryyy I can't be funny alwayz.

***

Why do I fight against being broken open by hard things? Or against faith? Why don't I ask for things that are so clearly in my heart? Why don't I try courage and, like DO the things I know will make me a better person? And not just because God is asking these things of me but because He is all-knowing and He knows my future (all things are present to Him). So of course he's going to ask me to do things that are uncomfortable or weird or hard or don't make sense to me. Because I can't see the whole picture. I don't have that ability because I'm mortal. Whoops. So yeah. I should just trust Him and in Him. And stop dragging my feet. I need to stop dragging them. I can't get anywhere.

I am tired of waiting, and I think waiting is tired of me waiting for it too. I’m sitting by this subway line as it passes me by, and every time the doors open, I want to get on, I would like to leave this platform right now but I stay there, and wait for the next train, and so it goes.

I am tired of filling these holes with things that don’t stick. If I was a floor made of tiles, then I wouldn’t be grouted. Not even close. Because the things that I am using to try and fill up all the gaps, they aren’t working. Things including but not limited to:

• boys
• boys texting back
• boys giving me any attention at all
• music
• tv shows
• driving around late at night by myself and worrying about the future
• social media, likes, follows, reblogs, etc
• mirrors (literal and not-so-literal)

I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the way, I forgot who I was. This isn’t a one-time thing. It’s recurring. It’s a recurring nightmare and it’s been (literally) keeping me up at night. I’m finally on sleeping pills because the Sunday night would come around, every seven days, that son of a gun, so dang reliable, when you pull the trigger out goes the bullet, and every time I would lie down to rest and then came the thoughts. Thoughts like you are not good enough to be here, you haven’t gotten caught up on a lot of homework assignments, you should be managing your time better, you spend a lot of your time alone these days, you’ll probably be alone for a long time, school is the most important thing in your life, why can’t you figure out how to date guys? why don’t guys ever want to date you? is something wrong with you? you’d probably be a catch! but...you’re alone. you’re still alone but you have school at least. your family and friends aren’t here but you are, for some reason you are here and it’s driving you insane, why, why here? remember when you’d drive home late at night and cry because you felt too much?

I have decided to be ballsier, and I mean that in every aspect of life. I can’t be waiting for this train anymore, this perfect, proverbial, temperature-controlled subway car to take me to the perfect place away from here. I am going to get on the next time it stops. The next time the door opens I am leaving this platform because yesterday, today, tomorrow, it’s all the same to the one who’s in charge. He’s in charge of me. He cares about me. Tonight I knelt down and I laid my head on the bed like a child lays in its mother’s lap. And I cried out. I said, “What do you want? What do you want?” And He answered back, very clearly, very quietly, but quickly: “What do you want?”

Things that would probably fill up these holes:

• the scriptures
• praying more
• being in the temple
• asking for the things I want the most but cannot ask out of fear, or something else gnawing at me--having faith

Some people get in car accidents. They barely survive, and then they get prayed back to life. Miracles. And it wasn’t so much to prove that they could do it, but that God could work miracles. He wants us to pray for those things. Not all of us get in car accidents. Some of us get in life accidents. Like depression or anxiety or crushing inadequacy or loneliness or searing doubt, the kind that burns you so badly you’re not sure you’ll come out the other end whole again. But that’s the whole point. Faith is hard. It kind of turns you inside out. It shakes things up in your life a little bit, usually a lot. It doesn’t make sense all the time, because it has a lot do with “future you,” the person you’re working towards, the person Heavenly Father sees and is wanting for you. “Yeah, I know you want this, but what’s coming next is best.” See, for me, I think he just wants me to try something. Get on the train sometime. If it’s not right for you, get off at the next station. We’ll get there.

I am tired of these holes. I am tired of being a sponge, I am not meant to be porous, I have too many tears coming out of me to sustain this way of life. There is only one fix for this.

2 Nephi 31:21

something about empathy

I've been thinking about pain. Pain, my old friend, you are so familiar to me now. I know every crook and crevice in your face. Come sit for awhile.

I'm learning how to be happy even if, and especially when, I do not have everything I want. Because guess what? I probably will never have everything I want, not in this life. That's not how it was meant to be.

And now, my sons [and daughters], remember, remember, that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you, to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." 

Today in class I taught my students about the "so what?" question. That is to say, "what's the point of this? Why am I still reading this essay? How does it apply to me?" And don't the prophets ask us all the time to ask that very question of ourselves--so what?

Trials are going to come. The devil "shall send forth his mighty winds." That much is inevitable. But something else is inevitable--the devil shall not win. In fact, he already lost. He lost a long time ago when Christ overcame for everyone, individually. And it is upon His shoulders that we can cry if we need to. We can run to him for relief. We don't have to do it alone. We don't have to do it alone. That's the answer to today's "so what?" question.

This matters because you matter.

I'm learning that pain doesn't have to be our own for us to feel it. That sometimes humans just need to sit and like, cry. Just cry or close our eyes against the pain pushing down on us. That there is such a thing as "raw, unalloyed, agendaless kindness." You know it when you see it. You can feel its cosmic pull. It's like...well, it's like charity. And it's what makes us weep when we see those we love in pain. 

I need the Atonement for those times, too. When I want to carry someone's burden but simply cannot.  He makes up for my shortcomings in succoring. 

So I'll be grateful for that today.

"No love is ever wasted. Its worth does not lie in reciprocity." Neal A. Maxwell

a call to (p)arms

PARMESAN CHEESE, THAT IS!

Did I fool you?

...yeah, ok. Maybe it's Monday night and yeah you guessed it, I've been awake since my alarm beckoned me from slumber one Sunday morning. If you're doing math in your head right now, that means I have been awake for approximately 36 hours.

I'm being seriously serious when I say I NEED HELP SLEEPING. Sleeping pills do not touch me. Neither does doTERRA (sorry all ye blogger moms reading this). So all of you that have witch doctor remedies or other things you do to help you sleep, hit me up.  Hit me up with a nice soft pillow...and some Melatonin...ohh great I really need to go to bed right now. But first, words. That's what I came here for, dangit! And so did you! ...I'm guessing...um what else do you guys come here for? It would be cool if blogs had concession stands.

Let's talk about cold showers for a minute. Not metaphorically. NO METAPHORS. I mean actual cold showers.

The other day I was taking a shower. The spigot only emits pressure from one little spout, and it's a lot of pressure for one little spout, and in conclusion this shower feels more like one jet in a jacuzzi is dousing you in the back. It's pretty nice if you move around a little. Like a Poor Person's Masseuse.

So I was showering and suddenly the water turned cold...right in the middle of a rinse-off! Where is the justice? But then I thought "Ok, I've done this before. In Mexico." In Mexico, we had to light the gas which heated the water for the shower, and it took about 25 minutes to heat up. And we didn't always have gas (haha. HAHAHAHAH I'm immature), so we had to take cold showers.

That previous experience from the McKenzie Vault helped me get through this brief three minutes of a cold shower, and honestly it was not even a big deal. It wasn't a thing. I wouldn't have even brought it up if not for this blog. Whoa did I just analyze the existence of blogs just then...? LATER, MCKENZIE. LATER.

I just want to say this: I am not having an easy time right now. Grad school is the hardest thing I've ever done. And I've done hard things. Grad school has turned out to be the culmination of every hard thing I've ever done, but maybe that's just it, you see. I was being prepared for this. Those three years of awful in-between-ness and then the four years of school before that, that was a preparation time, a probation (I borrowed that fancy word from the scriptures). And this is preparing me for more sacrifice, more tears, more exhaustion, more crazy awesome learning experiences (it sounds like I'm describing parenthood, what) in the probably-near future. Can I just say "the future?" The future is always near. Like literally the future is 5 seconds from now. IT'S CLOSE. AH THERE IT IS! AAAND IT'S OVER. See what I mean? I think it was Einstein who said "I never worry about the future--it comes soon enough."

I'm ready now...to just let the "cold shower" of life wash over me and for me to not just endure it but be like "Hey this isn't so bad. I can do this. I like cold showers!" Mmmm yeah maybe I won't say the last part.

EXCEPT HAVE YOU EVER TAKEN A COLD SHOWER AFTER BEING OUTSIDE ON A HOT DAY IT'S THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO SWEATBACK.

Leave it to me to end a serious post with "sweatback."

And this.

WAIT DO YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT THIS.

HERE.

YOU'RE WELCOME.

OK BYE FOR REAL.

BYE. GET OFF MY BLOG.

who the heck in London is reading my blog? are you a man? do you have facial hair? are you between the ages of 25-30? ARE YOU SINGLE?!

^The problem with having a stat counter on your blog.

*this was a nice moment*

*asterisks are cool*

*supposedly*

*shoot*

*um*

*i*

I MADE A TRIANGLE ON ACCIDENT! ^^^

Anyway.

Been sitting here (here=in bed, and other flat places) for awhile, doing homework. I had forgotten what it was like to spend an entire Saturday writing papers and reading. I had sweetly slipped into an ignorant reverie where homework and the weekend did not exist in the same sentence. But alas.

I'm a grad student now. It took all of my restraint not to type "meow" instead of "now," but I realized it would've nullified the whole "grad student" thing. AND NOW I'VE GONE AND NULLIFIED IT BY OVER-EXPLAINING.

I nullify lots of things by over-explaining. I'm done saying nullify now, you can quit yawning!

But me, I'm not going to stop yawning. Not for 2 years. Because I'm also not going to sleep for 2 years. And it's okay. I knew I was going to sacrifice something when I signed up for this. The past week has been SO FRAPPING HARD. Like, so hard. Like I kinda wish I could go back in time and visit the McKenzie of 3 months ago who was so blissfully ignorant of what was about to occur, and tell her to "Man up. Get ready. Take 5 naps. Buy lots of Kleenex. You're gonna need it." That kind of thing.

I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss the drive from Orem to Provo and Provo to Orem. YEAH I MISS UNIVERSITY AVENUE WHAT IS THIS BLACK MAGIC IRONIC GARBAGE?! I could go on and on making lists of people and places that I love and wish I could've taken with me to Logan.

But then I remember how it felt when I moved to Provo--about the same. I hated it. Wished I wasn't there. Wondered why I had been led there at all and spent many nights crying, alone, and hurting, and thinking "This was a bad idea. Why did I do this?" And if you could go back even further in the McKenzie Timeline, you would see the same pattern over and over. When we moved here from Oregon, I knew 100% it was right, but I didn't like it. I felt extremely uncomfortable. And alone. When I moved to Rexburg, I felt funky and too young and out of place and cold. The feeling of being cold never went away. But the other stuff did.

So now, here I am, in a similar position, once again being pushed way outside of my comfort zone and, in classic human style, not liking it one bit. We all like the idea of change and adventure and growth, but the actual doing of the thing gets a little bit tangled. So what are we supposed to do?

Well, I learned this trick in institute last week. This trick that involves asking. When we pray, a lot of the time, we offer up a prayer that goes something like "Please bless that a will happen because you're God and I can't do it myself." Example: "Please bless that whoever didn't come to church today will come next week. Amen."

But those kinds of prayers...they don't work. It says right in the scriptures that a prayer without the intent to act behind it is void. It doesn't count. Maybe we don't pray the right kinds of prayers because we're scared of the answer. Because we kNOW that it's going to get answered. If instead we prayed "Help me to know who is missing at church today so that I can help them come back next week," that prayer would get answered pretty quickly.

In summary: faith is hard. It's supposed to be. Without it, we can't get nooooo miracles. And trust me, when you've been awake all night because you're nervous about teaching in the morning/surrounded by spiders/worried about never having a social life ever again/lonely/too hot/too cold/too hot again...you NEED miracles. As many as you can get your hands on.

So let's try it out, friends. Let's just try out this whole faith thing and see where it takes us. I'm game.

{this} {is} {serious}

mom.

I debated posting this at all but I really had to just sayyyy it.

JUST LISTEN OK.

I read a lot of blogs, probably way too many, probably just like everyone else who has a blog. We like to keep up on each other, you know? Girls. Girls are always sizing each other up. Not in a bad way, usually. That's what I'm trying to say--I like to be around girls who inspire and uplift. I wrote about this before but I need to say it again, and this applies to everyone. There is a trend circulating around the internet, and consequentially, around the whole of society, that has a lot to do with being better than everyone.

I'm not just talking about materialism, although that could be another blog post, probably. I don't want to write that one, though. Somebody else talk about materialism! Whatever. The point is, this whole "I am better because I'm an intellectual" thing....is stale. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Since when is it okay to step on other people because you can use big words and read The New Yorker? Since when???

I'm not trying to be crass or jokey right now but I know I come off that way sometimes. Like I treat too many things lightly. Well this is seeerious bidnez. I get so tired, so exhausted, from reading article after article about any topic really, with that condescending tone. I don't even know how to explain it, but I keep seeing it in the media. Usually has things like this:

• demanding something, like a right they don't have, and crucifying anybody who does not have this same view
• making fun of someone who has a different opinion/OR IS JUST PLAIN DIFFERENT
• straight up mocking people who are good, good people and also humble, meek, and therefore you won't ever hear them saying "I am such a good person." 

It's that last one that is bothering me the most right now. I recently saw a Twitter feed (not even gonna bring up the subject because that's a can of worms) and it started out innocently enough. Someone expressed their opinion. The end. Or not. Because then someone else disagreed with her, and it was like that person who disagreed was not very smart or open-minded. She was a dumb sheep. Not explicitly said, but implied by the original author of the tweet and those who backed her up in responses.

*insert burning fire emoji* 

I cannot handle these types of conversations, on the internet or in real life. Sadly, I don't think you'd see that type of conversation  very often in real life because people are a lot meaner on the internet. A really gross and terrible fact. It's times like these in which I have to step back and say "Ok. Guess what, McKenzie. You don't have to take other people's opinions to heart."

Take other people's opinions lightly. VERY lightly.

Obviously, you are not going to agree with everyone about everything. That is certain. But that doesn't give you the right to say "You are a stupid and dumb human because you have a different opinion than me." Nope. Because that person is still a human being. Ok, what if they are wrong? It's ok...it's not your problem, not really. You've stated how you feel and that is the end. It's great that you are willing to stand up for your opinions and your beliefs! But then to attack the person...? No thank you.

I have so many good women in my life. So many, and there is a common trait in all of them that I want to emulate: kindness. I know, kindness isn't trendy right now. Being right is. How did Christ teach others? He, the most perfect person to ever walk the earth, was also the most humble, and most kind. He never made anybody feel less because they didn't understand something or because they sinned. And we all sin. But did anyone ever hear Him say "I am perfect! I know everything! So if you don't agree with me you are really stupid!' No! The message was always delivered as an invitation, and it emanated perfect kindness. I don't understand why people think using coercion and bullying and passive aggression will ever work. It does not work. It only repels.

The women I want to be like are smart, but they aren't puffed up. They are kind, but not to gain something in return. They are gentle, because every human needs that. And they are all of these things without saying a word--you probably haven't heard them brag very much about how awesome they are. They just are. Like my mom (that's why her picture is up there, and ok, she's cute too). 

Sorry this was a jabbering mess. But SRSLY had to get it off my chest.

BE NICE!

(I recognize how ironic it was that I put that it in all caps...)

me: "yeah I'm totally okay I just (takes deep breath) (starts screaming)"

Oh

How

The

Turn

Tables.

For the past two weeks I haven't been sleeping well. I actually don't usually sleep very well, but the last few weeks have been especially bad. It's like my mind had this itch it could not WOULD NOT scratch, and every night I would get into bed all exhaustified from life and my brain would be like "hey hey psssttt I have a bunch of ideas about our future, wanna hear?" And I'm like, "Uh, maybe not now? Since it's 1am? Maybe no?????" Brain: "Hahahahahaha." *proceeds to not stop talking all night*

lol kill me in the face

I never say "lol" and I probably won't ever say it again. *screenshot*

I was really stressed about all the different directions my life was taking. Imagine you're standing on a road and the road has 5 different forks (which makes it..not a fork...more like a mutant-utensil but ANYWAY) and they all look real nice. The first fork pathway has flowers growing on it and it's sunny, looks sort of like southern California, oh gosh, yeah, no-brainer, I'll take this one. Then while you're walking down that path, you get a glimpse of the other one: it also has flowers growing on it, but it also has huge trees (for shade purposes) and a river flowing next to it. Okay....alright that one looks better. Lemme just backtrack real quick.

And so it continues, until you think "OK. WHICH ONE IS WHICH. WHICH ONE AM I SUPPOSED TO BE ON." Help a brotha out. P.S. Whenever I see the word "brotha" my brain autocorrects it to "brothel." Not helpful. Doesn't your brain autocorrect stuff? Isn't it weird that "autocorrect" is a verb used to describe things other than our phones' Freudian slips?

I got one rejection letter and one acceptance letter this week. Talk about an emotional roller coaster. I was shocked both times. Then two other opportunities presented themselves, and the sleepless nights resumed.

At least I got a solid 5 hours the other day.

*cries softly to self*

/existential crisis rant over (for now)

to-do list

What to do when you have received your first grad school rejection letter (which was so generic, honestly guys, you can do better. At least send me a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels to make up for the $50 I paid to email you stuff):

1. cry a little
2. cry a lot
3. stop crying
4. call your mom on the phone
5. don't say anything, just let her talk
6. take a few cleansing breaths, that's right, in and out, you're doing it!
7. maybe go kick something. inanimate. an inanimate thing. preferably of the metal variety. like a dumpster
8. attempt a headstand or something you have never tried before (providing it's legal)
9. make an insanely large batch of muffins
10. don't let anyone talk to you about the dress EVER AGAIN ever. ever. 
11. get really frustrated about this particular episode of LOST
12. ask yourself again why you decided to rewatch this show (UGH SEASON FOUR UGH)
13. have a rly entertaining conversation about lotion and foot rubs with a friend
14. I MEAN REALLY, FOOT RUBS (I wish I could show you this convo but I cannot but trust me it was the best conversation in the history of conversations *bangs gavel*)
15. give a foot rub, make some dolla billz, throw 'em in da air, brush your haaaair 
16. stop trying to write songs like that ^^ just stop.
17. email some other (smaller) universities (not in UT) about their MFA programs
18. let them call you the next day and tell you that you could start classes in April (?!)
19. email someone else about teaching English in Lithuania (you could go to Sweden, that's right, where Leif Erickson is from, and everything I know about Leif Erickson I learned from Spongebob Squarepants #art)
20. read this talk
21. go for a long drive in your car/bike/vehicle of choice
22. take the hottest shower ever because that is a poor people's Jacuzzi and goshdangit you gotta take advantage of those hot showers, amen.
23. stock up on toilet paper cuz you're out.
24. well...? Toilet paper is fundamental!
25. Hey guess what it's almost been 48 hours since you got that rejection!
26. You've already forgotten about it
27. Congratulations.

if I had a clubhouse the sign on the front would say "no whiners allowed plz! (or people who dislike peanut butter)"

wow is my hair red???? redwood tree brown????? chocolate popcorn candy tower color?????? who knows????

I got called "Waldo" six times that day. SIX. Thanks for nothing, H&M.

Alright, alright. If you have an aversion to peanut butter because of, like, a life-threatening allergy, you may still come aboard this ship. Er...house. House in a tree. Someday I'm going to have a treehouse again, and it won't be rotting/dangerous/made in the same years my father was in high school. Bless you, old walnut tree, for holding that tree house for so dang long.

Recently, I have been gravitating more towards things/people that inspire, uplift, and make me feel better about myself while at the same time making me want to become more. In other words, my spirit digs all those things mentioned in the 13th Article of Faith. Isn't that something? Huh. Well, anyway (my mom loves when I say "anyway"), besides this being a not-really-coincidental thing that I am doing (because of this), it's also making me wonder...

Why do we ever waste time on anything less? How does the adversary distract us like that, when we know better. We all know better. I scratch my head at this every day, at myself, for falling for that even for a second. The trap that says "You aren't really worth as much as you think you are, so how about you just waste your time on this frivolous activity?" Such frivolous activities include but are not limited to:

• netflix marathons (seriously make me unable to sleep+make my stupid back pain worse+make me feel lame, and I know, we all do it, but it's seriously horrible, the end)
• eating anything gross
• spending too much time on the internetz for no reason
• not spending time reading all my books
• not spending time outside

These all have a common thread: idleness. In my early morning seminary class wayyyy back in the prehistoric ages, a boy once commented saying "An idle mind is the devil's playground." Gosh, it's true. UGHHH Lucifer. Stop playing on my playground. Get out of here. You don't even like swings.

*crushes his head with my heel*

*wait he doesn't have a head*

*crushes a picture of E.L. James instead*

*it's kind of the same*

*whoa are u being passive aggressive, McKenzie..?*

In honor of this inspiration-fest, I am going to leave some linky-dinks here of things that have inspired me lately to be a better person. Maybe they will help you too. 

Now, go for a walk today, and leave your phone at home. Unless you're in a bad neighborhood, like me. Then take your phone. Ok, leaving your phone anywhere is sort of a bad idea NVM.

• this girl has hodgkin's lymphoma and decided to make shaving her head into...not such a bad thing
• this post written a while ago by the lovely brooke, who always inspires. I still think about this post. It was great. 
• this blog, and also this human, whom I have since hung out with a couple of times and she is just as inspiring in real life. I love it when that happens!
• this talk. very much worth everyone's time.