Crawling

Fiction - Another Horrific Short Story (from a writing prompt)

            It was dark and cold and the mud rose in the garden as the river rose at the edge of the woods and the rain pelted the side of the house and I checked out the attic window one more time. IT, a twisted creature I had never seen before and which I wished I would never see again, was still crawling through the black sludge that used to give life to Mama’s gourds. I shivered.

            The lamp at my feet flickered, and I tightened the quilt around my shoulders, turning away from the window. Mama would be home soon, I thought. Mama would take care of the thing in the garden, crawling crawling like a slug.

            Only it wasn’t a slug. It was far too big, more the size of the dog that lived next door which would sometimes lick my hand through a hole in the fence.

            Only it wasn’t the dog. From my window up above, I had seen the neighbor bring him inside when the rain started.

            When the wind shifted, and the other side of the house began to get soaked, I checked the garden again. Crawling crawling, this way and that—and then it stopped and raised a swollen head to look up at me peering down through the attic window.

            I scurried back, accidentally knocking over the lamp and extinguishing the flame, and I was crawling crawling to the attic stairs and screaming for Mama but I knew, I knew that Mama wasn’t coming and Mama wasn’t going to take care of the thing in the garden.

            Because Mama was already in the garden, crawling crawling, in the mud.

Blind Date

Fiction - A Horrific Short Story

I have never desecrated Shakespeare before, but I am tempted right now to chuck King Lear at my roommate. She can sense my unspoken desire just by glancing at the bent book and my white knuckles.

"Whoa, Mal," she says, backing through the doorway. "Don't get mad. It's just a blind date."

"I didn't ask to be set up. Again."

"Didn't you, though?" She twists her fingers around a curl of blond hair. "We were up until 3am the other night talking about how much it sucks to be single this time of year."

She is right, but I refuse to acknowledge that. "Carrie, it's October."

"I thought it was a weird choice, too. But to each her own." She spins around and races to her room down the hall. "He's picking you up at 6."

"I can't go!" I shout from the doorway. She has already disappeared into the pink depths that she shares with Kate.

"Yes, you can." Her head reappears. "Remember to be nice. You're his blind date, too."

I retreat to my room and stare at the ugly wallpaper for a few minutes while I fume. This will be the fourth blind date Carrie has set me up on. The fourth time she has done so without my permission.

First, there was Aaron. He was slimy and left trails of grease across the screen of his smartphone, which he did not set down for the entirety of our pizza dinner. Also, he chewed with his mouth open. The date was cut short when I excused myself to throw up in the restaurant bathroom. He took me home shortly thereafter, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on his phone.

Then, there was Jack. Jack didn't speak except to tell me things that were wrong with me. My necklace was crooked. My hair was out of place. My lip curled up on one side. I had a stupid major. I breathed funny. Fortunately, I did one thing right that evening; he didn't complain when I asked to go home.

Last came Kyle. Kyle was Carrie's cousin. Kyle flirted with other girls while we were out. By the end of the night, Kyle still didn't know my name.

Most single women of a certain age have their own list. I know I'm not the only one.

Tired of the yellow wallpaper, I close my bedroom door gently and stare at the pictures hiding on the back side. I stole them all from the internet, but the markings are my own. I drew the red pizza sauce spilling from Aaron's mouth. I drew the horns on Jack's head. I drew the arrows through Kyle's chest. They are just three among hundreds of pictures, hundreds of ill-matched dates. Each picture is unique, but they all have something in common: I have crossed out their eyes with a bright red marker.

You're his blind date, too.

I decide that there is always room for one more picture. I put on my favorite outfit--the navy blue dress and the gray shoes--and tie my hair up in a ballerina bun. It is the same thing I do for every blind date (Jack thought it was boring), but tonight I do something different.

I sit down in front of the mirror and gaze over the familiar flesh of my face. My makeup is so-so, applied quickly as I rushed out to school this morning. Carrie usually suggests that I do smokey eyes for a date, but I will do something shocking tonight. I will do something to end all blind dates. The blind date of all blind dates.

It takes me a while to get it right, but I am satisfied with my work.

The doorbell rings right at 6pm. I fumble around in the dark of our apartment before I finally answer the door. When he sees me, my date screams. He screams and screams. My roommates come running from their hiding spots. They scream, too.

I smile, and my lip curls up on one side. I dab a streak of blood from my cheek. "Do I look that bad? What's wrong?"

No one responds except with more screaming. I think someone is dialing 911--I can't quite tell. I remain at the open door, plastering on my most polite, practiced smile.

"What's wrong?" I repeat. "I'm just a blind date."

I don't think any of these unread dimwits appreciates the way my work references Oedipus and Gloucester. According to literary canon, I have joined the best of tragic company. I am as tragic as I feel.

The screaming does not stop, but I was promised an evening out. Annoyed, I set my gouged and bloodied eyeballs on the kitchen counter and shuffle out the door without them to treat myself to a blind date.

Studying the Scriptures

I confess: I have an obsession with scripture study--specifically, with studying the Book of Mormon. I've compiled some of the methods I use to make the scriptures more meaningful, and at the end I have also included some methods my friends have used.

1. Word Search

This practice stemmed from two desires: (a) to read the Book of Mormon quickly to see the big picture, and (b) to learn more about the ways certain words appear in the Book of Mormon. I bought a cheap copy, picked a word/phrase/concept, and set to work. I read quite speedily, pausing only to hover over the word I had selected for that round. When I found the word, I highlighted it and made a mental note about the context it appeared in. At first, I read for "light." When I finished, I started over, reading for every instance of "faith." I colored faith orange to represent the fire of faith, and I discovered that the simple book of Enos was burning bright.

2. Word Search ON STEROIDS: Dedicated to a Single Topic

A couple of years ago, I spent a long time thinking about hope, about how I needed hope. So I bought yet another cheap copy of the Book of Mormon and turned it into my Hope - Book Of Mormon. Not only did I highlight every instance of the word "hope," but I also began feeling hope every time God's promises and covenants were mentioned. I highlighted those, too. And on the flyleaf at the beginning of the book, I wrote down my favorite thoughts on hope: a poem  by Emily Dickinson, and the greatest two hopeful scriptures I could think of, Moroni 7:41 and Alma 32:21. After that read-through, I feel like I an expert on hope.

3. Cross Reference

This practice is by far the most tedious. I have yet to complete a thorough reading of the Book of Mormon using cross referencing, but the concept is simple enough. As I read, I find a gospel topic and research it using conference talks. When I find a talk with a relevant quote or message, I write the quote down and stick it into the chapter, being careful to trim the sticky note so that it doesn't cover up the actual text. The writing and trimming take forever, but I have learned a lot about applying the scriptures to my modern lifestyle. It also helps to boil down a complicated chapter to a few key gospel topics.

4. Foreign Language Edition

I love languages. I love the Book of Mormon. So, when I was learning Spanish in college, I combined these two loves and bought myself El Libro de Mormón. Reading familiar scriptures in a new language is an eye-opening experience--the language suddenly begins to make sense. I became more aware of the struggle of translating scripture. I quickly memorized 1 Nefi 3:7, and years later, I can still recite it with the same lyrical rhythm. Reading the Book of Mormon in Spanish gave me a confidence in the language, but it also gave me a confidence in my testimony. The Spirit is with the book, no matter what language it is written in (which wasn't English to begin with).

5. Suggestions from Elsewhom

I got these study methods from the awesome members of my Relief Society. Clearly, I read too selfishly; most of these suggestions include sharing what you read with someone else. I'm definitely going to develop one of those suggestions so that I can reach out and truly apply my scripture study.

• Companion study: read the scriptures with someone else and discuss the text
• Teach the scriptures: read with the intent to teach someone, particularly someone of another faith
• Scripture speak: read the scriptures out loud
• Wake up with the scriptures: study first thing in the morning to dedicate your day to God
• Imagine the scriptures: put yourself into the story to make it come alive
• The Bednar approach: like the word search except searching for answers to a single question while reading
• Interrogate the scriptures: read with questions in mind and write down answers and revelation
• Where's Christ?: like Where's Waldo? except you're searching for Christ's role 
• Word search with the Young Women values: a great adaptation of my word search method
• Reach out: read with specific people in mind and make note of verses that could help uplift them
• Share!: the scriptures are a gift, so study and then share what you learn (or maybe even share the scriptures themselves)
• Scripture prescriptions: find scriptures to read when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're anxious, when you're sick, when you're confused, etc. and write out prescriptions with the verses included (can be personal or given to someone else)

Stumps

My life is like an overgrown orchard.

I try to curate my friendships

To find like-minded spirits

To find bosom friends

To find people like me.

But the trees grow when and where they may,

As people step into my sphere, my orbit,

And the fruit of friends ripens when I least expect it

And it is delicious.

I don’t control my overgrown orchard, but

I do take care of the trees.

But the stumps.

But the stumps.

Where a life was cut short

Before I was ready to let the tree go

Before I was done eating the fruit

And now there are shadows on the orchard floor

Where fruit never ripens and falls

And it’s in those deserts between the trees

That I watch the orchard blossom or rot

That I watch the seasons come and go

And the sun shine through the leaves

In warm golds and cold silvers,

All while I sit on the stump of a friend.

Bodily Functions

"Tight Rope" by isabelsophia

Bodily functions: not what it sounds like (or smells like). A few weeks ago, I attended a body image lecture by Dr. Lindsay Kite and Dr. Lexie Kite (check out their website), and they encouraged us to think about all the great things our bodies can do. I accepted their invitation because I want to reconcile with my body. In the past, I have felt very betrayed by my body. I felt like it was keeping my spirit from doing the things I wanted to do. I tried to distance myself from my body. I told myself that I was just a spirit with a body, but the gospel truth is that I am a spirit and a body. Both together make the soul. And I want to forge a stronger soul.

Here are the cool things my body can do/has done:

My body can work on big projects and tiny projects.
My body can smell when the gas stove has been left on.
My body can collect dirt and sand and goatheads.
My body can fall off a trampoline.
My body can share heat with my cold kitty on a wintry evening.
My body can read for hours.
My body can taste salty, spicy, sweet, and bitter foods.
My body can be corrected--like my vision and teeth have been.
My body can act as proxy to receive ordinances for those who are dead, whose bodies cannot.
My body can tie down a fence during a windstorm.
My body can take a 3-hour-long written exam.
My body can go without food for 24 hours.
My body, in its sleep, can save someone from choking.
My body can give a hug to a grieving friend.
My body can smack a volleyball past taller, bigger bodies.
My body can warn me about extreme temperatures.
My body can heal from injury and illness.
My body can stay awake during evening classes and on long drives.
My body can shelter my spirit and give it opportunities to expand.
My body can get rid of poisonous substances.
My body can travel through time (some call it "aging"; I call it time travel).
My body can shake to alert me to danger.
My body can produce loud laughter and big smiles.

I could go on forever. Not everyone's body can do the same things mine can do. Likewise, my body cannot do the same things that other bodies can do. But it is my body. It is part of my soul. And yes, it will change through time and circumstance, and yes, it has weaknesses and faults, and no, I don't want to trade it for another.

Sabbath Study: Stake Conference Edition

This weekend in stake conference, I learned that God has carved beautiful, divine sacred spaces for me. I call them "waiting." He calls them "instruction." Often, I feel like I am waiting for promised blessings to come, but that waiting should not be passive. That period of time is a school. It is a temple. It is learning not to rely on the mortal construct of time. It is learning of the ways and power of God. It is investing in God and God investing in you. It is the home of our faith in Christ. Instead of focusing on the waiting, focus on the learning "even by study and also by faith." Inhabit the temple of waiting. Arrive early for your blessings so that you can wait and learn with purpose.

Read more about sacred learning moments.

A House of Learning - February

1. Theatre

I attended an adaptation of my favorite Shakespeare comedy, Twelfth Night. I have a problem (read: obsession) when it comes to stories about women dressing up as men to move through society more easily. The BYU Young Company did a great job setting the classic story in the wild American West, as well as simplifying the story for an audience of children. I thoroughly enjoyed the music and the audience interaction--it seemed very authentic for a Shakespeare performance.

2. Weekly reading series

Ashley Seitz-Kramer, a Utah poet, read some great poems to us from her collection Museum of Distance, which I later purchased out of awe. She is not only an inspirational writer, but she turned her reading into an art. She taught me the importance of the pause and the silence before reading, when we let the air clear itself of past words and we breathe in and pause to wait for and hunger for more words.

I also heard some poems by a former Utah poet, Wyn Cooper. He read a few postcard poems--poems that are written as notes to people or things or places or emotions or places of mind. He taught me to have fun with poetry, to make poetry accessible to its readers. He also talked a bit about the writing process of a poet. Many poets edit a poem after they publish it; thereby, the poem becomes a constantly evolving, living work. Cooper also explained something about Joyce Carol Oates: she was always attached to a typewriter. She would bring it in the car and write on long drives, and she would even have several typewriters lined up at home, each with a different project she was working on. When she got bored with one, she would move down the line to the next.

3. Art lecture 

At a lecture on campus, local artist James Christensen discussed 24 of his paintings featuring fascinating female figures. I've had this painting ("Virtue") in my bedroom, and I didn't even know it was his. 

I love art with a high contrast between light and dark, especially when the light is warm, a practice called tenebrism. Anyway, the artist himself was friendly, funny, and personable. He used to be a bishop in my stake, so my stake building is full of his work. His art is inspiring, whimsical, and narrative.

4. Fireside

I attended a fireside about the archaeology of Ancient America and learned tons about the Adena and Hopewell cultures and their parallels to the Book of Mormon. The presenter made a great case arguing that the Adena people could be the Jaredites and the Hopewell could be the Nephites and Lamanites. Even if that isn't true, his message helped me to understand that the Book of Mormon is real. There's no reason why those people shouldn't have left traces behind them. And now, when I read the Book of Mormon, everything is more tangible.

I definitely have never learned so much about the inhabitants of my own country. That part of history gets skipped over for the more culturally significant Aztecs, Olmecs, and Mayans.

5. Women's Services lecture: Beauty Redefined

The BYU Women's Service office hosted a lecture by media and body image professors (and twin sisters), Lexie Kite and Lindsay Kite. Here are some insights I got from the Drs. Kite: 

• Stop talking about only looks when complimenting others, especially on social media.
• Stop self-objectifying (thinking about being looked at). 
• Resist these habits with mental might, physical fortitude, social skillfulness, and spiritual strength.
• Your body is an instrument for you to use, not an ornament.
• Be more than just a body. In return, see others as more than just bodies.

6. Temple tours

The Provo City Center Temple offered tours during February, and I was able to go on two tours. The first was the bridal tour, and they walked groups of single women through the bridal room and up the tall, twisting staircase to a sealing room, where the sun was setting just behind a stained glass window. It was truly gorgeous. Divine. The second tour took us through the rest of the temple, which was small but ornate. With all the authentic workmanship, I felt like I was stepping into the 1920s.

7. BOOKS

In February, I read 6 books and listened to 1 audiobook (Pride and Prejudice). I went on a Louise Plummer and Carol Lynch Williams kick, and it was a glorious kick. I have met both women and found them kindred spirits. Their writing makes me want to write volumes.