Stop This Train.

Stop This Train. John Mayer.

No I'm not color blind
I know the world is black and white
Try to keep an open mind but...
I just can't sleep on this tonight
Stop this train I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't-
But honestly won't someone stop this train

Don't know how else to say it, don't want to see my parents go
One generation's length away
From fighting life out on my own

Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't but honestly won't someone stop this train

So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young
So I play the numbers game to find away to say that life has just begun
Had a talk with my old man
Said help me understand
He said turn 68, you'll renegotiate
Don't stop this train
Don't for a minute change the place you're in
Don't think I couldn't ever understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly we'll never stop this train

See once in a while when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing
'til you cry when you're driving away in the dark.

Singing stop this train I want to get off and go home again
I can't take this speed it's moving in
I know I can't
Cause now I see I'll never stop this train

Life is.... L I F E. How exactly do you explain it? It's a confusing circle of love/hate, war/peace, hardships/success. It's a battle. Sometimes with others, but more importantly with yourself. It's messing up and starting over. It's learning and growing. It's completely mind-boggling and awe-inspiring. It's confusion and revelation. It's trials you almost don't make it through. And it's God's love and miracles when you do.

Life is everything.

Everything you're scared of, everything you're so good at you could do in your sleep.

And most of all, life is fast. And too often we take those small moments- whether easy and incredibly joyful, or bitterly hard and challenging-for granted.

And we want to slow it down.

We want to hold that newborn child forever. We never want them to get older. But then they do. They start to smile, and eventually walk and talk . And all of it happens within months of each other.

Soon months turn into years and things keep changing. You watch them as they ride their bikes without training wheels, and you watch them create and imagine by themselves. And those years pass like seconds (it feels).

You stand amazed that they are already going to their first high school dance, and then all of a sudden you turn around and they are walking across the stage at graduation.

And, as they pull away with their car loaded up for college, you sit and wonder what ever happened to all those small moments. How could that possibly be the infant you held in your arms just months ago? Wait... years ago? No way. Let alone 18 years ago, couldn't be.

Okay no, I'm not a mother, but I happened to be the last child of 6. So I happened to be there watching my mother go through this process- 5 times before she got to me. I watched her cry, and I listened to her describe the best she could, how it felt.

But I also got that phone call from my sister, or my brother, and listened to them describe the other side. Describe what they felt.

Like how they never realized how much our parents had done for them. How much they loved them. How grateful they were for all of the rules and the hard times they had at home.

I listened as they told me to "hang in there because even though it's hard to watch all of us go, and be the only one left at home, it is all worth it in the end."

Well I'm here to say they were right. Not only was it worth it, but I wouldn't have traded it for the world.

Because as I became that 18 year old, with my car all packed for the craziest adventure of my life, I cherished those small moments at home. With just the three of us.

And now, here I sit- writing about it. Why? Because it's on my mind. Because that happened to be exactly one year ago.

Exactly one year ago I sat in my apartment, living with 4 girls I didn't know. 2 hours away from home. From my parents. My friends. My comfort zone. Scared to death of the following day. My first day of college.

And I look back with gratitude. And more perspective than I had before. I think of all the things I was faced with, and I realize that I made it. And I know I can do it again.

Don't get me wrong, I dont sit as a wise know-it-all 19 year old. I still have so much to learn. I still don't know exactly where my life is going or what exactly I am even doing. But I don't sit in fear. This year I sit surrounded by 4 girls I have come to love. Four girls who have become my best friends. And in essence, my family here.

I sit in a newfound comfort zone. Sure, there is nothing like being home. No matter how old you get or where you end up. Home is always where the heart is. But I have learned a lot. And I feel comfortable knowing that no matter how hard it gets, or what grade I get on that test, it really will all be okay. I will be stronger because of it.

So before life passes me by too fast, I want to share some of it. Some of my favorite moments from the summer. Some of the amazing people I have met, and have been privileged to know in my life thus far. So that you can experience some of my cherished small moments. And then share some of your own.

(My best friend and I on her wedding day)

(Dinner at Leatherby's- for my first time- with the Cassity Family)

(Incredible night in Lake Powell- Trip #1)

(Colorado trip with Chris and his family for their cousin's homecoming. Chris, Eric- brother, Tammy- mom, and I!)

(One of the amazing sunsets in Colorado)

(My cute roommates and I at dinner- first reunion all summer!)

(Stadium of Fire/Carrie Underwood concert- such a great night!)

(Yet another unbelievable sunset- Lake Powell Trip #2)

(My cute mom and niece)

(My home away from home)

(Bear Lake Rodeo Sunset)

(Bear Lake Trip with the roommates!)

(Double date with my best friends)

(Birthday celebration with my friends)

(Alpine slide)

(Ferris wheel at lagoon...where we spent a few hours for my birthday)

(Opening presents for my birthday- so nice of Chris!)

Because John's right- we can't stop this train, but we sure can enjoy the ride.

Rules.

Hello.
How are you?
What are you doing?
Enjoying summer?
Cooling off with a cool glass of lemonade?
Lucky.
Here I am...sitting in this same freezing office. Doing the same boring filing. With the same effortless hair-do (aka: whispy-falling-out ponytail). Dreaming of the same summer wishes (you know the ones to do with hot cement, popsicles, and swimming pools...).
But today, I had an epiphany. An epiphany about rules.
Let me explain.
I just spent a week in Lake Powell with the best family a girl could ask for. I was busy...every. single. day. My skin was soaking up sun rays as fast as it could (considering I've been shunned from any sunlight whatsoever this summer). My toes were sifting through hot sand and swaying through shallow water. My hair was blowing in warm wind, tickling designs on my back.
And I was content. No, more than content. I was thrilled. At peace. Overjoyed.

One afternoon I was rekindling my love for the sun as my dripping swimsuit dried, when my 3 year old niece walked up the stairs. Up the stairs meaning to the top of the houseboat. She was singing and dancing and doing all the other wonderfully blissful habits of a princess, when she reached the edge of the houseboat. (Don't worry there's a gate- let your heart stop pounding)
She began unlatching the gate and as her little fingers began sliding the gate open every so quietly I quickly stopped her.
"No, no no Leah.." I said in a coaxing/loving-yet-startled/worried aunt-like way.
She stared at me with a blank face.
"We can't open the gate because you don't have your life jacket on remember? And its very dangerous when you don't have your life jacket on," I began. "Why don't you go put your life jacket on and then come back and I can help you open the gate?" I suggested.
She looked at me with big eyes and said, "Yes because we, we can't open da gate when we dont' have ouy (our) wife- jackets on because, because dat's da yules (rules)."
And with an exchanged warm smile between us, the conversation ended, and she was off to find her life jacket.
This experience is what triggered my thoughts today on rules.
Yes, my trip was incredible.
I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my afternoons than watching my nephew search earnestly for dinosaur eggs in the sand. I couldn't have asked for a better way to wake up than to a "Rachie!!" followed by a long anticipated kiss from my 1 and a half year old niece.
I couldn't have asked for a better way to feel loved than hearing my mom say "You did awesome, I'm so proud of you" as I finished a ski. And I couldn't have asked for a more peaceful way to end a day than watching the sun tuck quietly behind the red rock as the boat glided through the last of the days waves.
So for all of that- I am grateful.
But that doesn't change the facts. I'm back. Here. In this betrothed office. No boats, no sun, no sand, no..... joys of summer.
Only rules.
So I sat today thinking about all the many rules I, like Leah, need to obey here at work, like she did on the houseboat.

I have rules like: Clock in at 8:30, No jeans or casual clothes, one hour lunch break- MAX, etc.)
But I started to think of other rules. Rules that make me chuckle a bit. Rules I've learned myself....unfortunately, through experience.

Let me shed a little light...

#1. Never bring a purse full of bit o' honeys to work. You will eat them all and want to vomit.
#2. Never bring a bag filled with wheat thins and cheese to work when you have Cafe Rio for lunch. Although you are stuffed, you will eat the whole bag out of boredom. (Already my first two have to do with eating uncontrollably....what's my problem?!)
#3. Never shave your legs and wear a skirt and short sleeve shirt to work on the same day. You will get chills from the unreasonably chilling temperature in the office and ask yourself why you even shaved.
#4. Always take lots of bathroom breaks.
#5. Always check the weather before dressing for work. Otherwise, you will always wear a skirt on the windiest day of the year.
#6. Never use the phrase "could this day get any worse?" Because it always can.
#7. Always spend time with those who matter most. Because you will always wish you could be with them instead of trapped in a freezing dungeon earning $9.80 an hour.
#8. Never misplace a terrifyingly intimidating attorney's files. You will always want to crawl under your desk and cry when you can't find them and they need them.
#9. Always smile at all of the office couriers and/or runners. Because the attorneys' never will.
#10. Always find joy in the little things. Like 'Doughnut Wednesdays' or the endless free drink supply in the break room. (Although that was a lot cooler when I was 6...) Or else you will go crazy from lack of entertainment.

Now I know these may not quite be applicable to all....however, when you stumble across one you cannot obey- think of me. Here. In this freezing building I call work. And smile. Because you have the chance to break those rules. And I will smile because I have the chance to make them.

So, until Rule #11,
I'm clocking out. Literally.
See you at 8: 30 tomorrow. Sharp.
"Because, because dat's da yules."
Chow.

Dolls. Freedom. And YOU.

The other day I got an email from one of my best friends. It was nothing big, nothing extremely moving, or extravagant. But it made my day.

It went like this:

"I found this funny picture of us.... I seriously remember this day. I love you, and am happy that we have been friends for so long, can't wait till i see you next!

love you,

Anniebear"

(Attached was this picture...)

It was simple, and short, but very sweet. It was thoughtful, and I was grateful. She was thinking of me, and it made me feel loved.

But, there's more to the story than that. As I read this email, it reminded me of my childhood. Things I loved. Things I didn't love so much... (Ahem, broccoli...peas....anything and everything green...)

And as you can see, I loved dolls. I loved house. I loved bunnies. I loved dogs. I loved swings. I loved scraping ice off the freezer shelves and eating it. (So sick, I don't know HOW I didn't get a disease from that...) I loved making "dye" from crushed up flowers and water.
I loved pretending.
I loved imagining.
And I loved creating.

Well now some of those things have changed. For example, I love snow cones instead of germ infested ice shavings tasting like metal mixed with peas/corn/whatever else sat on the shelf. And I love children instead of dolls. (Even though I might willingly dress dolls and play house with my nieces...)

But some of them havent changed. I will still only eat a very limited amount of green food... (And my grandma still disapproves of that..) I still wish I could see the backstreet boys concert tomorrow.. (Oh shoot did I not mention that before? Sorry.. must be a long lost childhood dream buried deep in my heart...)

Okay, okay, let me tell you what really hasn't changed.

I still love pretending. I still love to imagine.
But more importantly, I live to create.
Whether it be making my sister's favorite meal when she comes to visit, or constructing crafts with my nephew as his imagination runs wild. I love it. And sometimes, most times, its more than that.

(Note: I mentioned cooking and crafts. By cooking I mean dropping some noodles in boiling water and pouring sauce over the top, and by crafts I mean pre-school level crafts. Just to be clear.)

I'm not a brilliant chef creating masterpieces from scratch that change the lives of everyone who tries it- like my sister in law. And everyone knows I'm not a creator in the craft world. Sure, I can glue green construction paper to a plastic cup for my nephew, but when it comes to sewing aprons, making $5 chandeliers look like those straight out of pottery barn, and making bows cuter than anything store-bought like my sisters and mom...I sit there aimlessly my jaw dropping lower by the second (SERIOUSLY they can do EVERYTHING!).

So I've tried to stick to something a little different. Less complicated. Something a little more personal and a lot less foreign. I'm not an author of a world famous book, or a poet of endless, dreamy poems.
I wish.
But both of those are things I love. Because it's something they created. They didn't just write a book, they created feelings.

I write to create feelings. Thoughts. Emotions. Not in others, but in myself. And if, by any grand miracle it could possibly touch others, I would truly be inspired.

I wish I could take experiences I have, bottle them up, poor them into my computer and click post. And let you see what I saw. And hear what I heard. Because then you could really truly feel what I felt.
And that's why I write. Because I can't twist my memories shut with a lid. I can't fill a baggy up with my feelings and save them for later. They happen right then. And unless I write about it, sometimes I forget. And they fade.
And so here I am. Writing. Creating feelings in myself. Feelings of freedom.
Freedom from pleadings, and Redman files. Freedom from "Pat Christensen's office this is Rachel." Freedom from firetruck sirens and screeching car breaks (and horns...). Freedom from florescent lighting and paper cuts. Freedom from work.
I write to create peace. Peace knowing that maybe someday, somewhere, my daughter might be feeling the same feelings I am. And that she might, just maybe, be able to read my words. And relate. And feel understood. Feel peace. Peace knowing that I know life is hard. And busy. And overwhelming stressful. But that it will be okay. Because I am doing it. You are doing it. We all are doing it. So we can learn and grow.
And that brings peace.
I write to find joy and perspective. Joy in the good times, and perspective in the hard.

I write to remember. I write to learn. I write to love. I write to feel. And I write to change.

So whether it be cooking, crafting, writing, painting, singing, sports, running, or whatever else your heart desires... I challenge you to create. Create those feelings in you.

But do it not because you have to. Not even because you want to. But because you need to. Because whether it's an email from a friend, or an urge in the back of your mind, I know there is something there. Something deep down begging you to.
So that you too can remember and refresh.

And by doing that, I promise it will bring about change. Changes you didn't know needed to be made. Happiness you didn't know you felt. And more freedom than you would have ever thought possible.

Do it...

I dare you.

7:35 am.

6:50 am. Alarm blasting.
Snooze.
6:55 am. Alarm blasting.
Snooze.
7:00 am. Alarm blasting.
Snooze.
7:05 am. Alarm blasting.
(continues for the next 15 minutes.)
7:20 am. Pry open my eyes and, like a zombie, shuffle to the bathroom.
With my eyes as slits I turn the bathroom light on and pull my hair into a pony tail. Splashing warm water on my face, I slowly start to wake up.
I know I technically already woke up but I'm not just talking physically out of bed. I am talking coherent. Which rarely happens at 7: 30 in the morning.
As I brushed my eyelashes with a few strokes of mascara and swished the cold bristles of toothpaste across my teeth I noticed a little girl with big green eyes looking up at me.
"wha-what are you doooo-een (doing)?"
"I'm getting ready for work, I have to go to work today..."
"to woyk (work)? but...but ony (only) dads go to woyk (work)"
"I know...but I have to go to work today too"
I watched her tiny little brow furrow as she stared up at me before responding.
"well, can you help me tie this befoy (before) you go to woyk (work)?
Yes Leah, you're right. Mostly dad's go to work. Yet, here I am....sitting at woyk.
Wishing it was 7:35 again. Wishing I was at home. Helping you tie your sparkly dress up and eating rice krispies with you for breakfast.
Just know I am here- longing for those precious moments with you, when no one else is awake.
Those precious moments at 7:35 am. On a Tuesday morning before work. When I just so happened to be coherent. (Thankfully).
Signing off for n ow,
Aunt Rachel.