A Lesson in Cheer

WARNING:
LONG POST AHEAD.

I HAVE A LOT ON MY MIND, SO FEEL FREE TO SKIP THROUGH THE LONG DIATRIBE AND GET RIGHT TO THE FUN STUFF.
THANKS FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING.

~The Management~

Well.

I feel insurmountably grateful for all the positive support and advice and positive vibes I've been receiving lately, due to my last post. I am also incredibly humbled -- I always thought of myself having a pretty good self esteem, and I didn't even realize that I needed cheering up, but when I got the mammoth email from a Superstar and award winning author, I realized something.

People want me to succeed.

And there are ways to do that very thing. And thanks to Annette, I have some serious thinking to do. What I thought I was just doing for fun has now presented some serious consideration.

So here are some questions I have to ask myself:

1. Do I really want to do this?

2. Is it worth the time and effort and sweat and tears it's inevitably going to take in order to accomplish this goal?

3. Which brings up another idea -- is this a goal, or is it just a dream?

Which brings me to another subject entirely that I feel inspired to share today.

When I was a senior in high school, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I was one of the first two seniors to get accepted into a college (in September of my senior year, no less) and I was going to get a degree in English and a minor in Secondary Ed and I was going to be a high school English teacher and share the joy of literature and learning to millions of teenagers and inspire the future generation of youth to greatness. By the time I graduated, I had earned enough college credits to enable me to begin my college experience at the Sophomore level in my English Program.

First problem.

I entered the program with a group of returned missionaries and various other more experienced students that were all using English as their double major, with either Law or Psychology as their other half. Every class was a debate! They all had to argue every single assignment, and discuss every poem and author and novel as if their lives depended on it. After my first year, I was completely burned out. And somewhat disillusioned. This was not what I had signed up for. (Except for the creative writing class, which I enjoyed....)

So, when the time came to register for my third semester, I went to a counselor. I explained my dilemma, and even though I do not remember her name or what she looked like or even what she said, I remember how encouraging she was, and how she made me feel about the situation. For the first time, I realized it was OKAY to reconsider my life's path, and that changing my major would not be the end of the world, and I could still make a difference in the world but perhaps in a different way.

I had a roommate at the time who (practically) changed her major about as often as she changed her hairstyle, and she would take the registration booklet and close her eyes, open it up to some random page, wave her finger in the air and land it on the book, leaving fate to decide her future. I used to laugh at that, but suddenly I was inspired. I grabbed the catalog and closed my eyes and did the whole rigamarole, opening my eyes and found....

.....Zoology.

Huh.

I didn't think so. I am an artist, not a scientist. This was not the answer.

However, my eyes glanced over to the left side of the page, where I read, "Youth Leadership."

Huh?? That was a major?

I read down the list of classes. Backpacking... Canoeing... Outdoor Cooking... Winter Camping....

Ha, HA!!! This WAS a major??!! This was CAREER GIRLS CAMP!!!! SWEET!!!

So, much to the concern of my parents, I signed up for one class. It was called Keys to Leadership, and it was an introductory class to the whole major, so I figured this class would help me make up my mind. I didn't take a single English class that semester, just GE stuff, and I prayed that something would click and after four months, I would either miss the English so much that I would want to go back, or I would find a new and completely different path.

It didn't take four months to decided. It took about four minutes. The first day of class, I walked into a large classroom with about thirty other kids in it, and most of them were chatting and visiting like they were old friends. I headed for a seat, but never made it. Somebody came up and introduced themselves, and immediately drew me into a group, and before long, I felt right at home.

Bro. Skinner, our teacher, soon walked in, wearing a nice suit and carrying a briefcase, and he welcomed the class warmly. We began the class with prayer (I love that about BYU) and then opened his briefcase and prepared to show us the textbook for the class.

He pulled out his Bible.

I felt chills. This was not a religion class. And yet, it was the most spiritually uplifting class of my entire college experience.

Bro. Skinner explained that Christ was the Master Teacher, and how we would be studying His life to gain the skills it took to become a leader -- whether it was a leader of a family, a leader of a Boy Scout Troop, or even a leader in the community, the lessons we would learn from this class would help us in any career choice and wherever life would take us.

That did it. I sat through that class, mesmerized, and one hour later, I marched right up to the Department Office and changed my major. And I've never been sorry -- not for one minute.

The skills I learned in this major will never make me a millionaire. They will never bring me fame (beyond the ridiculous reputation I've built for myself at Girls Camp), and I will certainly never earn any sort of fortune from it. But as a mother and a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I will forever be a different person for the lessons I learned in those walls, nearly twenty years ago.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, one of the most memorable lessons I remember from that class was on the subject of Impossible Dreams. No, we did not study "The Man of La Mancha" -- although that would have been entirely appropriate -- but we did make a list of all the things that we dreamed about and thought we'd never achieve.

I still have my list, and I get it out from time to time. I remind myself that I was a young, single, and slightly naive coed when I wrote that list, but I have achieved several of those dreams....like getting married in the temple, raising children, learning how to drive a stick-shift .... things I thought, in my immaturity, I would never accomplish. And yet I have. Except for the "Become a Published Author" thing, I think I'm doing pretty well, in fact. But there were times that I would look at that list and think, What was the point of writing this down, again?

Well, there was a point -- and there was more to it. Bro. Skinner gave us a challenge with the list in the form of what he called the W Formula.

"Work will win when wishy-washy wishing won't."

And it works. I look at that list, and I think of all the work it took (and still takes!) to make each of those dreams come true. Which reminds me of another Skinnerism: "A Dream Not Written Down Is Only A Wish." There comes a point where those things we fantasize about can either become reality, or blow away with the wind...

...which brings me back to the original subject at hand. As much as I don't enjoy the vision of 367 pages flying out my window, I still have some important decisions to make. I used to fantasize about seeing a book with my name on it, sitting on a shelf in a bookstore, with dozens, maybe hundreds, of people waiting in line to get my John Hancock.....but why is it we never fantasize about the months and months of work it takes to get there? And the reams and reams of paper you have buy, and the hours of typing, and the sleepless nights because you can't make the plot resolve itself the way you want it to because the characters aren't cooperating, and the tater-tot casseroles your family grumbles about because you're too busy writing?

Sheesh, that's depressing even to think about.

So I remind myself of Ecclesiastes chapter three. My dream is blossoming into a goal, and my goal is not going to achieve itself overnight, or in the next few weeks, or even months. It may even take fifteen more years! But I have a life plan going for me, and I'm in this for the long haul.

And I appreciate your support. I'm doing this for you, too, now.

In the meantime.....(remember I promised some fun stuff?)

When I need some good cheering up, I usually turn to one of three things:

1. Food
2. Music
3. My shop


Thankfully, I was able to combine #1 and #2 and save myself a few pounds. We discovered a CD that was produced a while ago, but is absolutely, hysterically funny and enjoyable for all ages.

Go ahead -- click on the picture, and it will take you to a video of one of our favorite songs from the album.

The other fun part regarding #2 was something that came in the mail this morning. Something that was the result of some ridiculously good luck, and some insanely good timing. (click on the picture so you can see what it is close up)

I love giveaways! I love winning them!
I love the giddy feeling of expecting something delightful in the mail that will help improve my life by leaps and bounds!

Here is a small sample of my pantry before...


And after --


Now, the only problem is, I need four more! (But Sophie doesn't think that's a problem -- all those extra cans just provided her with minutes of amusement!)

Finally, Cheer Up #3: When I'm really down in the dumps, or even when I'm not, there are few things that can cheer me up better than a really cute dress. We've been watching old Hayley Mills movies lately, and I felt inspiration kick in for this little number.



Doesn't she look like a great big double scoop, Neopolitan ice cream cone?
Dontcha' wish you could just reach out and....and....LICK 'ER?

Just too cute for words.

And just one more reason why I should stick to what I do best, and leave the novel-writing to the professionals.

Darn it, I did not mean to say that out loud.