The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads onto way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence;

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost [1916]

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

--Shel Silverstein--

IT'S THE little THINGS

"Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness is me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

And the Lord God doth work by means to brings about his great and eternal purposes; and by very small means the Lord doth confound the wise and bringeth about the salvation of many souls."

--Alma 37:6-7

NYC, way to be.

It is a good thing that I have a whole fleet of guardian angels working overtime...because I almost died tonight! ;P

Okay, so that is a little mellow-dramatic. But listen to this story:

I had just gotten out of Penn Station when this guy was trying to get someone to come into his cab. I thought everyone was being rude, so I gave him at least some eye contact. Big mistake! He seemed to be injured that no one would give him the time of day, let alone come to his cab. He asked me if I wanted to take an "express taxi." I asked if his cab was parked right there on the street and he said it was and grabbed hold of me. He was leading me toward a mini van. Finally a couple warning bells went off. I started to make excuses, but he still almost got me inside. I then thought about payment. He was telling me that the price would be $35. It seemed a little high, but I realized that all I had was a credit card and a ten dollar bill. He paused. Started to take me to the debit machine, but luckily I did not have my bank card. Thank goodness!! I was so glad that this was the truth because I cannot lie for my life. I was able to break free from his hold and make enough of a little scene that he realized I was no longer an easy target for his taxi scam.

I am sure it would have been just fine. But I felt so relieved. So much safer and at peace when I got away from him. As it turns out, it was only a little over $10 + tip. Slightly less than $15 as opposed to the biggest risk of my life. Ha! Take that evil taxi-impostor man!

The concert I attended was inspirational!! My love of Rachmaninoff has reached new heights. I was invited by Steinway artist Yoshie Akimoto to an intimate/exclusive concert at Steinway Hall entitled "Healing for Japan" which featured her child prodigy students. Umi Garrett was 10 years old, Jeffrey Lee just graduated from Julliard, and Alex Beyer was 16. They were all so incredible! Allison Elderedge, Yoshie's daughter, is a world-class cellist and the mother and daughter played a couple of duets for cello and piano. One was a Japanese folk song and the other was Rachmaninoff's Vocalise. Both pieces were so moving. As were Allison's comments.

I had the chance to talk with Yoshie after the concert. I met Ms. Akimoto a month ago at the Manhattan Temple after a devotional session we attended together. I casually mentioned that I was going to an opera and we discussed our love of music. She was a musician and told me many wonderful little stories, including the sweet story of how she met her husband there in NYC while she was attending Julliard. I told her that I was a music student and an aspiring composer. I have great dreams and am willing to work very hard. I believe that the best music, the most inspired music is yet to be written. I don't know that I will necessarily have the chops to fill those shoes, but I am going to fill out the biggest pair that I can. I just want to give to the world what I have to offer. Yoshie believes in me and wants me to keep in contact with her!! :)

One of the best pianists in the world believes in me!!!! :)

(did I mention how amazing those kids were??? I'm inspired and motivated. now to go and do!)

faith of a child.

i have quiet ambitions to be a singer-songwriter. i don't tell many people this, as it has taken me so long to admit it to myself. but i do and i am trying to believe in myself.

rachel and i decided to take a walk around the block to soak in the beauty of the moment. i confided to her about my desire to be a singer-songwriter and my doubt as to whether or not i could do it. to this she replied, very matter-of-factly: "of course you can! you play all the time!"

yes!! a nine-year-old believes in me. somehow, that means more to me than any other adult believing in me. i don't really care what happens, because this nine-year-old had no doubt, nothing but faith in me. :)

oh, how i will always try to become as a little child. to have the faith of a child.

Fears.

Which is worse: Fear of failure and rejection or Fear of success?

I think the worst fear is arachnophobia because if allowed to remain, you will forever be taping plastic cups to your walls until a hero comes home to "take them outside."A code which I finally worked out to mean a. squashing them as quickly as possible or b. flushing them down the toilet.

So don't worry about success or failure. Worry about spiders.

the miracle of redemption

I find my favorite stories all contain the same tenet, the same theme: Redemption.

The past couple weeks I listened to score of The Phantom of the Opera several times. As a young girl, I lived and breathed this musical, this story. I love it! I love everything about it.

The music is beautiful, accessible. The characters are engaging. Relative. Even funny. As are their songs. And the story? The story, though fictional, is factual. For the facts of our lives are these: We are born. We live. We die. Everything else is uncertain. All lives are filled with heartstoppers, heartbreaks and hope. PTO is no exception. It is the story of life. Of love and the many different forms, and distortions, that love can take. Of disappointed hopes, dreams, expectations. But shows that what ultimately lies in store is far greater than what we can imagine for ourselves.

To illustrate why I love this story, I will give you my favorite moment. Christine decides to let go of all that she has to lose, forgive all that this man has done and realize that this monster is nothing more than a forgotten child who has never known love. So she shows him love. She gives him but one kiss and her touch makes all the difference in his world.

When mercy is offered before judgment, miracles occur.

The story of the Phantom is about the miracle of the heart. One moment, one small act of love can change the world forever. It already has.

There are angels of music. For where there is love, music will abound.

List of some of these favorite stories:

• The Phantom of the Opera. (my first broadway)
• Les Miserables.
• The Secret Garden.
• Jane Eyre.
• A Tale of Two Cities. (charles dickens in general)
• The Lord of the Rings.
• Persuasion. (jane austen in general)
• The Lion. The Witch. And the Wardrobe. (c.s. lewis...)
• Harry Potter.
• Turandot. (my first opera)
• (lists can go on forever if allowed....so...)

The Touch of the Master's Hand

It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch

a little song, a little hope :)

Loved. Really LOVED! :)

phew...what a day!

This morning was just one of those mornings. I had almost determined to give up, when I decided would not! My resolution was instantly tested as my mother gave me a piece to learn so that I would be able to accompany her. I had less than an hour to learn it, but by golly I was gonna try my best! Unfortunately, my best wasn't quite what I would have liked, but other than another fiasco at the piano amidst performance, we had beautiful and inspirational services at church. I am glad to know that the beauty of my mother's voice cannot be diminished by her daughter's poor performance. :)

One of my dear little sunbeams, Kairi, ran up to me after Sacrament Meeting and we ran around the church to get her wiggles out. We counted to one hundred. And then we went into primary.

How special she made me feel. So loved. To simply be grabbed by the hand, unbidden, and be pulled all around the church. What fun! What an honor to be loved and adored by Kairi, who does not respond to everyone.

My little sunbeams are the most wonderful little things. I have four: Clark, Ava, Kairi, and Leo. They are each distinct and important elements of our class. It is such a beautiful environment together. They are so ingenuous. They are so full of perfect love. So ready to learn. To be taught. They are patient with me as we struggle together each week as I learn how to create the structure and discipline which will allow each of them to grow and develop their potential. As they learn how to listen. As I learn to listen.

My main goal is for them to feel loved. For them to come to associate church and the gospel of Jesus Christ with his teachings and precepts, for "God is love." To feel safe. To feel nurtured. To feel like they can make mistakes. To fall. To get up again. To just do their best with the knowledge that whatever their best is, that this it is not only an acceptable offering, but an offering most wonderful and treasured. I want to give these children stable emotional, physical, spiritual, doctrinal foundations upon which they can build. Most of them will never remember me. Most of them will not recollect my face or my name. But I hope they will remember how much I love them. How grateful I am for them. I hope they will remember that although they may forget me, that I will never forget them.

I hope that in whatever small way I interact with all those around me, that I will bring some measure of Christ's perfect love into their life. By just a smile. A compliment. Or the random strangers who know more about my life than so many that I see every day. Every one needs to know they are cherished.

I am amazed at how the Lord works. The more we give, the more we receive, the more we want to give. I often fall prey to the folly that if I do not come bearing gifts, I should not come at all.

I am trying to be more humble. I am trying not to care what people think of me. I am weak and pathetic. Think what you may, this is who I am. I am trying to not give up. I am trying to do my duty...sometimes I try too hard, other times not hard enough. But time just keeps marching. Healing. Cleansing. Sanctifying. Glorifying.

I have often misunderstood the wonderfully divine gift of time. I still try to reconcile myself to its rhythm. I often feel out of step. I am trying to fully comprehend all of these wonderful temporal, preparatory commandments.

I struggle with time. I struggle with balance. I struggle to prioritize. Organize. At least I can say I accessorize. ;P

Like many people, I wish I could put my best foot forward and show people "who I am." But we don't usually want what we need. Instead of being able to show off my strengths, to flout my feathers like a peacock, it feels like I show people my very worst sides. My weaknesses, follies, mistakes seem transparent to all. But that is okay. That is what I need.

I am learning to accept that it just does not matter. It is a gift to be weak. To have the opportunity to acknowledge openly to yourself and others all that you are. I am grateful for my weaknesses because they help me to be meek. I would rather be meek. Humble. Sincere. Genuine. My weaknesses are a blessing because they help to break down the walls people normally tend to put up, as everyone desires to put their best foot forward.

No one wants to feel inferior. I like to think that my occasional awkwardness might be endearing. That my klutziness allows others to be at ease. That my many imperfections being so apparent allows others to feel brave enough to let their own flaws be seen. If we hide our weaknesses, we become ashamed. If we hide them, they can never come to light and be seen for what they are: opportunities to grow. If we hide them, we cannot progress.

Playing the piano today was really hard. There were so many incredible musicians there, I longed for one of them to take my place instead of making me suffer through a humiliating, tormenting spectacle. People who have heard me play music that I have written or certain very well rehearsed performances think I'm all that and a cup of tea. I'm not. (Or not yet? :P) Such times were a rare gift of mercy to me. To be able to shine for a moment in the light of the inspiration that I was conduit to. A taste of what I might become as long as I keep at it. This has happened maybe a handful of times in my life. All of the rest of my experiences seem like today: trial by fire, lakes of torment, the hell of Dante's Inferno kind of experiences. To be constantly given music at the last minute doesn't really doesn't help my already crazy, irrationally intense fears of playing in front of anyone other than myself. It seems counter intuitive as it reinforces my fears. Instead of PTSD, it is TSD. The car accident keeps happening over and over again!

But this is where I simply have to step back and realize that people who are listening with the spirit will be touched by my sincere offering. Those who are distracted by my blundering...well, I can't help that. I am coming to know that people don't judge me as harshly as I judge myself. They love me. They want to help me. They want to nurture and serve me.

And they are. I am learning to let people serve me. To nurture me. To love me. To heal me.

I still seek to come bearing gifts, but when my well runs dry I seek to be filled.

The sum of the whole is greater than its parts.


"There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."
--Hawthorne

irrational fears

This morning I awoke in a cold sweat; I had forgotten to brush my teeth last night! At about 4am I sat straight up in my bed and yelled "my teeth are going to fall out!!" In response, I ran into the bathroom, grabbed my toothbrush, and got those canines clean!

It is such a crazy fear. I don't really remember when it started...a couple years ago?? Probably about the time that I got my first cavities. :( I think I tried to trick myself into super diligent mode by convincing myself that "my teeth would fall out." Now I'm starting to think it's a bad idea. I like to sleep. I have enough insomnia without waking up in the middle of the night as if gripped by a nightmare just to go and brush my teeth. I don't like lying to myself...although, it is true that my teeth will fall out if I don't brush them...oh no. Stop it Becccaaa. Ahhhhh. :P

p.s. Emily, while writing this I am thinking of a wonderful story that Lizzy told me:

Lizzy: "Emily, why do you floss after you brush your teeth??"

Emily: "I don't know...my parents never taught me how to brush my teeth. I used to swallow my toothpaste for years."

Lizzy: "Oh my!"

(I took a few liberties, that is...I will admit the story is paraphrased as I wasn't there for the actual conversation. But I think I got the gist?? Feel free to give me the real story. Either way, it makes me laugh!!! :D)

Impulse Control?

I have always been a little on the impulsive side. This was vividly illustrated in what at first seemed to me to be an embarrassing incident on FB:

I received a note from a friend I had not seen in years! It said that I was mentioned in her note. So I clicked on the link only to realize that it was a FB application that was trying to install itself. I quickly clicked off of it....but then I got a little curious about what it was even about. So I decided to just check out what it was for. As it turns out, it was to try and identify who was looking at your FB profile. I quickly clicked off of it again. I did not desire to know who was "FB stalking me." But then again, why not?? I clicked on it again only to immediately close the window for the last time.

Had I thought through the whole process, I would never have clicked on the link. For not only did I waste a whole minute clicking on this link three times...every single time that I clicked on the link it forwarded this spam app to every single "friend" that I have on FB.

At first I was mortified. They would THINK that I was trying to find out who was FB stalking me. No wait...they would KNOW it, as the invite will serve as a valid confirmation.

I freaked out for all of a few minutes before deciding that it was actually pretty funny. I didn't really care what people thought upon receiving the invite. I regretted they would get it because they would face the temptation of clicking on the pop-ups, but other than that I didn't care if they thought I was a FB stalker or FB stalker-seeker, or whatever. FB is designed for us to keep in touch with people that we know and love. It helps to keep us connected. It is designed so that we can "stalk" each other. However funny the term "FB stalker" is, it is inaccurate and causes people to feel self-conscious. Or perhaps I merely speak for myself?

Anyhow, even though I do occasionally waste time on FB and even though it is possibly re-wiring my brain to be even more ADD than I already am...I am glad for it!! ;P

Connections are everything in life!! :)

p.s. "ADD" is also one of those terms in our vernacular that is misused, over-used, abused. Additionally, it is also inaccurate. I think those with a tendency for wandering minds have not so much attention deficit but rather, a little too much attention. They see everything and try to bring all knowledge into one whole. Was it ADD when Einstein was daydreaming at the Swiss Patent office about trains moving at the speed of light which led to ground-breaking physics theories...completely advancing the progression of our understanding of the world?? Thank goodness for the connections made by seemingly unfocused minds.

p.p.s. If the whole of the human populace didn't have a little ADD we would be a very boring race! And I am glad we are not...but that we find the humor in life. :P

p.p.p.s. I really love this burgeoning sense of self, of reality, of finding the humor in life and not worrying about the judgments of men. There is no reason to be embarrassed for being human! Think of me as you will...I am just trying the be the best I can with what I have been given.

pure hearts

I have an uncle with autism who is severely mentally and physically handicapped. Physically he has developed the skills of a child who is a year and a half and cognitively he has developed as far as a three month old. He cannot speak. His walking is unbalanced. And he still wears diapers.

However, my uncle Stewie is among those greatest, those purest souls upon the earth. Sent here only to serve by teaching us. Like mother earth, he lives up to the full measure of his creation and he shall indeed inherit eternal life. I look at my uncle and am so grateful for the honor of knowing him. Of loving him. Of being loved by him.

Uncle Stewie (Choo-Choo) has the smile of sunshine. The chiseled cheekbones of a sculpture. And the heart of an angel. I am so grateful that when I was a little girl, we used to live with my grandmother mayse. During this period of my life we used to see him at least once a week. He would come over every sunday after church and we would play, and rock in the rocking chair (or fight over it...I was very young), and when it was time for dinner he would steal my chocolate milk and we had lovely rainbow sherbet or ice cream, he would sometimes try to steal that too. He loves ice cream! And anything on the plate, in the hands, or on the head of the person next to him. :)

Why am I reminiscing??

I work very long days. 10 and a half hours to be precise.

They are very long, tedious, soul-wearying days which completely wipe me out. However, I am given so many little miracles throughout the day so that just when I think I will not last the day, something happens to raise my spirits and help me keep going.

Today, this was a little girl. She was tiny. She used a walker and still got on very slowly. And her aura was so like that of my uncles. Her's seemed to be infused with pure joy!

The moment I saw her I felt I knew her. Her mother was getting her mentos which weren't so much a "fresh-maker" as a "joy-maker)...she was soo happy!! Her enthusiasm was contagious.

I had the impulse to go blow up a couple of balloons for her (as I have such discretionary helium available). When I came out to give her the balloons, she treated me as if I had just given her the world. How grateful am I that this pure little spirit lit up my world today. :)

lessons about lecturing

i don't like being lectured.

i don't know if it some kind of repressed inner rebellious, oppositionally defiant nature, but when people begin to lecture me...the following reactions may occur:

a. i shut down

b. i become very defensive

c. i become a little impassioned and more defensive...even offensive

d. i am pierced to my very core as i know the lecturer is correct and that i am an utter and complete failure.

e. i begin to cry

one of my great weaknesses in this life seems to be a propensity for reactionary over-reaction.

a family trait.

a common human malady.

and yet, i am making strides.

i am learning how to step

away

from the situation emotionally and examine it...

"what is really happening?"

i began doing this when experiencing some very dark, highly troubling nightmares. the result was very illuminating. yes, these dreams have been dark and scary, but what are they trying to tell me? with a little bit of distance and closer reflection the messages found in these dreams were very profound. and very personal. in so doing i came to be grateful for these nightmares.

so too am i endeavoring to apply this with every situation i am in.

however, i still find myself very hurt when being lectured. i feel talked down to. the lectures (whether at work, school, or home) tend to go on and on and i become verrrry overwhelmed...this is when i begin to shut down. my defense mechanisms go up because i am trying my very best. i give all of my heart and soul into what i do. when this is criticized, whoever lectures me is calling all that i am into question. this is hurtful to the heart of a girl who is already questioning herself and feeling that her offerings are not enough.

my conclusion is that lecturing is counter-productive. as is an emotionally reactive response.

there is a middle ground that must be found.

or rather, a higher plane.

for we are not seeking to simply to find a 50-50 give and take solution.

but as michael scott would say, "we are seeking not for win-win, but win-win-WIN."

we are seeking to learn and grow and enlarge our souls.

a lecturer can always find a better way to express and communicate himself more clearly. with more love. to show criticism in more constructive ways. show them that what they have done is not simply "all wrong," for you must find the good in what they are already doing. once you have affirmed the good, can then lead them to see that there is a better way.

when teaching someone in this way it will be hard to give hurt or offense.

the lecturee must humble himself. true humility where one listens with open ears and open minds. so we must listen with all of our senses. and listen with the desire and sincere intention to improve. with the belief that the person speaking to us has something to offer.

and they do.

everyone who we come into contact with has a unique vantage point.

a different vision.

it is only as we all combine our visions that we can begin to see clearly.

when allowing ourselves to be taught this way, seeking to truly improve, then no matter the teacher...we will become better.

p.s. as we have witnessed with my emotional reactiveness, an open heart alone can lead to heartbreak if a mind is already bias, as i am against myself ;P

so we must try to see ourselves clearly. stoically, if need be. for we are neither all good nor all bad. we must accept and love the good and try to improve those weaknesses and flaws that we identify in ourselves. we are simply mortal beings. humans who are subject and influenced by the desires of the flesh and the deepest yearnings of our spirits. how we react to these influences is what defines us. and as we make something of ourselves we will not merely seek to be influenced for good, but influencer's of the great.

we are works in progress.

you cannot judge the work, until it is finished.

take heart.

you can still be what you might have been.

may day, mayday!!

i had a may day picnic with my cousins at a beautiful park with complete with

gazebo, stream and swings. :)

[[future picture will go here]]

subtitled: a walk with the wanderwerkens

afterwards i joined in sabbath day revels like family home evening and

"music hostage time." my aunt then sighed as she told us that this was the end of the only good kind of "mayday." ;P