Sunday, April 15, 2012

Things I should just keep to myself

 Our week, in short. 
They did laugh as soon as I showed them these pictures, though!


I’m off. I failed in pretty much everything that matters this week. No excuses either. I simply flopped. Thankfully repentance is real and I’m getting better.

I have nightmares. You know this. I try not to talk about it since it really doesn’t matter; sometimes I need to scribble it out and pretend that I haven’t completely lost it. I’ve had nightmares since childhood. The last decade has been particularly fun. Some weeks are better than others. This was a very bad week. Usually I can articulate “what happened” in a nightmare, though not always since I switch narrative position and blend those perspectives. At one moment I’m a character, another I’m myself watching, then myself participating, or the narrator (omniscient or otherwise), or the director, or another witness or actor. Basically, when I wake up I’m more exhausted than when I went to bed, my heart and head race in a way that it takes me at least a half hour to bring myself together, and the feeling lingers. Haunts, really. I’ve mostly learned to shake it off by morning and move on. Occasionally I can’t despite best efforts and prayers; I feel the dream following me, I can almost smell it like a vaguely familiar body odor staring over my shoulder. It leaves me edgy and foggy and feeling foolish for allowing something I don’t control to have such a strong impact on me and my family. I rarely dream about people or places or situations that I know or anything connected to what’s currently happening or what I’ve been thinking about. A few people in my life have become symbolic appearances—strange since my interaction with them is completely zero. I struggle wanting to go to sleep—even when I shake I’m so tired—because I know waking up will just be worse.

I assume I should learn from this; if not a specific nightmare or series of nightmares, then at least having them. It should give me greater compassion. It will help me when my kids have nightmares. What else? I realized this week that this is probably an opportunity to understand more about the atonement when dealing with a small and insignificant (while largely effective) issue. I also realized that I need to study up on the cognitive process of nightmaring—which I dread, but will do.

At least I haven’t had a drowning dream for a while. Count that as a gift.  Nightmares also enable me to count sleepless children as a gift since they save me by waking me up.

Sorry, I just needed to get that out. I blame my “overactive imagination” yet I wonder if I just lack self control. Bothersome.

Before I go on to meaningful moments of the week, I read The Night Circus. Overall, a wonderful novel. Imaginative, magical, thought provoking. Generally well written (I mostly turned off my inner editor; a few dialogue moments stick out awkwardly). I appreciated that while the plot kept a fast pace, the author never wavered in her lovely descriptions. She allowed the reader to savor the details of the circus rather than rushing through the plot. What impressed me most was the creativity of the circus and how she showed it from so many angles. The use of second person also added depth and curiosity to the whole. Using Widget as the hidden narrator also allowed for beautiful meta-reflection on the purpose of stories and the need for us to share them. It also enables you to see different aspects of the characters, feel their stories and maintain mystery and possibility for each (even if I wanted more characterization, I ultimately concluded that stylistically it works). Each chapter remains self contained while blending smoothly into the next (tricky to maneuver!). Reading this, I thought about art and distraction. People like “escapist” books; that’s fine. I don’t want to read them in most cases and I really don’t want to write them. I don’t want to distract. How can art enchant, edify, and improve rather than distract? Of course, a lot of the reaction is centralized in the audience. Again, I need to employ more self control. I thought more about the book and its workings than I should have and accepted the distraction. But why? How do I keep myself from soaking in the distraction and utilizing the ideas to benefit others/my surroundings/etc.? In short, I need to hone in my brain boundaries.

The book made me think about the instinctive attraction people have to stories about magic. I think it is because we all sense a stronger power than we generally access or realize. It is a desire for the reality of the Priesthood. Do I express gratitude and utilize that power daily? Do I focus on it throughout my moments and recognize what it can do? Not enough. I’ll be studying more of President Packer and the Priesthood in general in the next little while. We don’t think about how amazing it is because it is such a normal part of our lives. Yet this is the “magic”—the true authority from God!—that people crave.

Okay. Enough of my silly self-absorption. Hope you skimmed that.

UT is becoming a smoke free campus by next February so that they don't lose millions of dollars in cancer research funding. A difficult shift to swing, but they’re doing it. Impressive.

Wesley interviews with NREL (the national lab in Golden, Colorado) tomorrow at 10 a.m. We’re excited. He spent part of yesterday preparing by going over C++ stuff. If we’re supposed to go, we will. If not, we’re excited to find out what comes next!

Tool trucks, a backhoe, a dump truck, and a cement truck graced us this week by redoing sidewalks on our road. Bless them. Exponentially. The boys loved watching them. We stood across the street every day and jabbered on and on about breaking the old up, dumping it in the dump truck, and pouring cement. I knelt on the sidewalk to talk to them and Lincoln backed up, sat down, pointing and saying, “Oooohhh! Aaaaah! Truck! Truck! Oooooooohhhhh!” Levi explained to me that they’re improving the sidewalks so that our daily walks around the subdivision will be better.

I apologized to Levi for my impatience. He held my hand, kissed it, and said, “It okay. We be okay, Mom.” This made my week. Wes taught him to eat corn on the cob. He loved it! He devoured every kernel plus some.

Lincoln grunted and growled all the way to church today. He seemed to really enjoy himself. Distressed Levi started screaming that he must “STOP NOW!” which increased Lincoln’s joy and volume. Lincoln is quite the tease. He watches Levi line his stuff up (from trucks, to erasers, to balls, to dishes), then he slinks in, takes something, makes sure Levi sees, and runs off.  I try not to laugh. I don’t fully blame him since Levi decides that he “needs” whatever happens to be in Lincoln’s hands—even when he’s not teasing! Lincoln can pick up a dusty lint ball from the laundry garbage and Levi suddenly must have it. Sharing. Turns. Respect. These things start young.

After reading President Eyring’s priesthood session talk, “Families Under Covenant,” we’ve been talking about how we discipline. Do we invite the Spirit in the ways we discipline? Do we discipline by and with the Spirit? Do we invite the Spirit to guide our discipline? Helpful questions to ponder; they kept us floating.

Cole Crew

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