passions

I just spent an entire week on a tropical island with my husband and six of our closest friends.  There were no children, no emails from work, no schedule and no obligations.  It was glorious.  I enjoyed the trip immensely.  Kauai has some of the most beautiful beaches and waterfalls in the world.  We ate delicious food and spent every waking moment relishing in being a bit selfish for the week.  

Part way through the week, I started to notice an interesting side effect of spending so much time with with the same people for this allotted time.  I like to think that I know these particular friends quite well.  I have know some of them for going on 15 years.  I know many of their likes and interests.  But in this week, I began to see them a bit differently. 

How do I explain this properly?  I think each one of us has a passion.  Q's is architecture.  He can look at a building over and over again for hours and not get bored.  He notices each detail (the beautiful and the flawed), explores the possibilities of what it is and what it could be, and never seems to tire of it.  He could spend each and every day examining buildings, seeing the beauty in them that most people never take notice of.  I know this by the way his entire physical body changes when he sees a particularly interesting work of architecture.  His eyes truly do light up and it's almost as if all his senses become more acute.  Years of seeing this change in him when we happen upon a building of interest has helped me recognize the signs of this type of passion in others.  After a while I clued in that whenever this happened, I needed to relax, sit back and enjoy the setting as Q pulled out the camera and took as many pictures as humanly possible.

I became aware of some of these "passions" in my fellow travelers this week.  The passions became especially evident in the men of our group.  Perhaps because I am more familiar with the women, seeing and talking with them on a more intimate way in our everyday lives, I was more struck when I noticed them in the men.  

I first became aware of one of Ty's passions when the search for the perfect wave began, but I didn't fully comprehend why a wave would be so interesting until we happened upon a beach that had several surfers.  Now don't get me wrong, I already knew the reason Ty was looking for the right surf conditions was because he was a surfer himself and was looking for a place where he could join in this action, but what I didn't realize was that it was a passion.  Not just the surfing itself, but the conditions of the ocean, the size and force of the waves was equally interesting to him.  But when we sat on the beach and the rest of us pulled out a book to read, Ty and R did not.  Their physique changed the same way Q's does.  And then out came the camera, and unlike the rest of us that snapped a couple pictures, they continued to do what always happens when passion and person meet; the camera did not get put away, but remained in use until it was time to leave. I imagine if this was back when we still used 35mm film, that many rolls would have been consumed.

It was on a drive along the highway that clued me into the fact that TC is every bit as much an engineer as Q is an architect. Again, I already knew TC was an engineer.  I already knew he could talk about building roads until the sun went down, but it didn't become evident as a passion, until I saw the camera come out as we passed a stretch of highway that was being constructed.  Had we deemed it a "Point Of Interest" I am certain more pictures would have been taken, and every bit of it analyzed.  But it seems TC has more than one passion.  As we hiked along the Napali Coast, paddled up the Wailua River and looked on the Wiamea Canyon, I could see the physical changes happen to him as well.  The beauty of the nature around him, changed his demeanor.  Words like "incredible", "amazing", "magnificent" and "unbelievable" flowed freely from his lips.  At every possible moment, the camera appeared, and sadness consumed his eyes when he realized he had finally run the battery too low to take any more pictures.

There were others that I noticed, but the reaction to each was the same.  It makes me reflect on what I am passionate about.  Am I passionate enough?  Do I give into the pleasures of being consumed by the beauty of my passions often enough?  Would I be more passionate about other aspects of my life if I let myself fully enjoy the things I love most?

Q often tells me he thinks other people think he is a nerd for liking architecture so much.  But I think it is beautiful to know what your passion is and to make it part of your everyday life. Passions, like talents, should not be hidden under a bushel, and we should  not be ashamed of the passions that help define who we are.

traditions

Four days ago, I sat on a beach in Trinidad, California watching my family.  There was just us, five Lowrys, alone on the sand. An overwhelming feeling of joy came over me as I watched Q and Sol walk hand in hand along the waters edge.  I smiled as I observed Corbin and Eliza dancing and playing in the surf.  I knew then, that I was exactly where I was suppose to be.  I was with the only people that really matter, doing what we love most.

We have been coming to Trinidad once a year during the summer since before Corbin was born.  It has become a tradition that helps define who we are.  Our children may not be able to remember what events occurred in which year, but they will be able to remember the sounds, and sights, and smells that only the Northern California Coast can bring.  They will have a feeling of nostalgia as they think back on our family tradition.  It was this train of thought that led to a flash-forward moment, of seeing my children grown, with children of their own on this very same beach, instilling in them the tradition we began so long ago.  I realized that this tradition will ring strong when they are grown, as it does for me now.

way to go

I ruined Father's Day.  Right from the get-go.  Way to go, Whit.  I'm pretty sure this will go down in record books as Q's worst father's day E.V.E.R.

I think it's because I'm such a lousy mother.  If I could figure out how to parent better I might not have had a major melt-down at 6:30 this morning.  The plan was to get up, take care of the kids, make breakfast, and let Q sleep in until he had to go to his Sunday morning meetings at church.  I got up, but that was the only thing that went right.  I was incapable of keeping Sol from literally kicking and screaming at me for 30 min straight which caused the mommy meltdown, I ATTEMPTED (amid sobbing) to make breakfast, and with all the racket going on in the next room Q did not get to sleep in.

I wanted it to be a great father's day, for an amazing father.  Quinn is everything I could have hoped for in a father for my children.  He shows and tells them he loves them, he teaches them, he plays with them, he is a great example of goodness for them, and I don't think any child on earth has a better father than my children do.

hand in hand

Corbin took Eliza's hand and led her to play on the playground, so she wouldn't be afraid.  I held Sol on my lap while swinging on a swing, listening to his laughter. And as Q snapped pictures, I thought, "This is it. This is as good as it gets. This is why we are here."  It was a moment when I saw without obstruction the joy that having a family brings.  The kind of moment that should happen more often, but I am frequently too busy or preoccupied to notice.  How many times have other moments like this passed me by without realizing it?  I have rarely appreciated my family more than I did in that moment.

My life is good.  I am very, very blessed.  

less is more

"Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world and aspire to the honors of men that they do not learn this one lesson." - Doctrine & Covenants 121:35

This was given in a talk in church on Sunday.  It is in reference to the powers of the priesthood, but I felt it hit home in a different way.  There are so many ways that our "hearts are set so much upon the things of this world" and hinder our ability to "learn this one lesson."  For me it is being in denial of our finances.  It is justifying the things that I think I NEED or DESERVE, when these things aren't needs at all.  And I have so much more than I deserve.

After piecing things together that have been coming on for the past month or so (reading two ensign articles, Q receiving a blessing from a member of the stake presidency, and hearing this scripture read at church) I knew I couldn't live in denial any longer.  More must be done to help us become financially free.  Free from the weight of hefty debt payments, free of panic stricken feelings of "what ifs" and how we are going pay for them, free of the guilt of exceeding our income, free of the fear of losing our home.

The funny thing is, it does feel more free to live on less.  I thought that throwing out the credit cards and turning of the satellite TV would make me feel a sense of anxiety, and yet all I feel is relief.

Less is often, so much more.

a natural instinct

Eliza has given no interest in babies and dolls.  She would pass right by them not giving them a second look.  Choosing animals as her place to focus her love and affection.  I have noticed a change in her recently.  She has been asking to have a baby doll.  {This after I gave her three dolls away because she insisted that she was never going to play with them and didn't want to keep them.}  She suddenly wants to take care of them and clothe them and play with them and feed them and love them.  Then today she said she wants to grow up quickly and "stay a grown up forever".  This again was odd behavior for her. Normally her mantra is, "I don't ever want to get old. I want to stay a kid forever." - just like Peter Pan.  So I inquired why she would want to grow up so quickly.  "So I can have a baby and name it and change it's clothes and love it. And I won't ever get mad at it."

Someday my baby girl will have a baby of her own.  One day she will be a wonderful mother.  The instincts she has within her, that are starting to manifest themselves now, will someday dominate her actions.  When indeed she does have a baby of her own, those instincts will be the one thing that helps her know what to do when she first lays eyes on her own precious child.  No matter what I teach her or who influences her over her life, her natural instinct to know how to be a mother will be what matters the most.

a day to remember

Saturday was one of those days I hope I never forget.  I took Eliza and Corbin snow skiing.  It was Corbin's second time and Eliza's first time.  Corbin was zooming down the mountain (lapping us...he did twice as many runs as E and I did).  Eliza was a trooper, never crying, even when she stayed on the chair lift too long and had to jump off.

One of the things I enjoy most in life is watching my children learn something new.  I love seeing the joy on their face when they realize this new, yet difficult, task is worth the effort it takes.  That great things can come with work and endurance.  Both Liz and Corbin were learning that even though we sometimes fall and get hurt, that it is always worth the effort to rise and try again.  That the reward is greater than the sacrifice.  Who knew that learning to ski could teach so much?

help

Today I am going to work on Prayer.  I think I need to be in constant prayer.  From the moment I wake up until my head hits the pillow.  I'm not sure how else I am suppose to know what to do.

all black

I'm wearing all black today to show respect for my old life.  I think I'm mourning the loss of having time to do things I love, spend large quantities of time with my children, and having one on one time with my husband.  Ok...so really I'm wearing black because that's all I could find that didn't need to be ironed, but the part about mourning is true.  I suppose I should be looking at the glass as half full and celebrating my new adventures ahead.  Sometimes I do, but right now I'm feeling a wee bit overwhelmed.  The weeks ahead look impossible.  I'm already feeling my two year old cling to my leg more, as if he knows what is about to happen.  He can sense that mom will be gone a lot and his life too will be different.

What have I gotten myself into?

it hurts

I hurt when my children hurt.  When they cry true tears of sadness, I cry too.   I ache inside when they feel lonely or afraid. I think that's what happens when hearts are linked.  When love is deep and souls are united.

I think there is nothing more heart wrenching than watching my children go through trials.  Sometimes it is when a five year old is frustrated because she can't tie her shoe.  Other times it is watching a 7 year old get left out when three is a crowd.  Whether those trials are big or small, sometimes all I can do as tell them I love them and watch them as they learn that while trials are hard, they make us stronger.

I once heard a friend say that our children should grow up knowing two things: 1. That they have a personal testimony of Jesus Christ, 2. That they know they are loved.  I hope that my children know these things, and as they are learning and growing their testimonies. That they know that I love them and God loves them and that those two things will never change.

 No one knows our children like we do.  No one else sees themselves when they look at my child.  But mothers do, and so do fathers.  We long to give them everything, teach them everything, and hope that when we fall short they will still find a way for themselves.

in awe

Have you ever judged someone harshly and then cringed at yourself for being so critical when you later find out that the person you so cruelly judged, is a simply amazing person?  And has that person become one of your dearest and closet friends?  I have.  She is.

A couple of days ago, my very organized week was turned upside down when we found out Q had to leave for an unexpected business trip.  Things that I needed to do were going to be very difficult without Q there to help with the kids.  So I called on this friend previously mentioned.  I told her the perdicament and she simply replied, "What do you need?  We will make it happen."  Not, "oh sorry, I'm too busy" or "I don't know...It's a school night" or any other imaginable excuse.  She offered to do things I would never have asked of her.  She was simply willing to serve with love.  Amazing.

She is not the only person in my life to do these selfless acts for my family.  I can't possibly count the times when friends or family have stepped up in my time of need.
--Need someone to watch your children in the middle of the night while you are in labor having a baby?  Happily.
--Drop everything to pick up your sick child from school so you don't have to wake your sleeping toddler?  Certainly.
--Listen to you cry about struggles in life?  With open arms.

I am continually in awe of the amazing people in my life.  I marvel at the goodness in their hearts.  And I wonder how I can become like them.

honesty

It seems like a lot of my thoughts stem from something I've read.  Reading is one of the great joys in life.  On this particular occasion I was reading a magazine with an article on eliminating stress, or at least I think that was what it was about.  The only thing I remember is it talked about being honest.  The author expressed that we should be honest about what our lives are really like.  Not in just the words we say, but in our actions.  Actions?  Huh...I had never really thought about actions being honest or dishonest.

Sometimes we put on appearances that things are different than they really are.  Maybe we pretend to have more money than we actually do by buying on credit.  Or when we have a party and our house is perfectly clean, not a fingerprint on the fridge, or dish in the sink or dust bunny behind the TV.  Is that a true representation of who we are?  I am particularly sensitive to this subject of housekeeping because I am such a terrible housekeeper.  I love having a clean organized house, but there seems to be so many other things I would rather be doing.  Inviting people over is at times the only way I actually get it clean.  The pressure of someone seeing my house a disaster is what motivates me to get it clean.  The author of the article suggested that when someone says, "I love your house" or "Your house looks great" that we reply by saying something something like, "Thanks it took me three days to clean it."  Ha ha, that's the truth.  Sometimes it does take me three days to clean my mess.

I love seeing how other people live.  And I love looking at homes.  Before we had children, Q and I used to go to real estate open houses just for fun.  So a few years ago when I went to a friend's home for the first time, she offered to show me her house, and I was delighted.  It is a modest home they had built several years prior.  As we came into the master suite, we went into the bathroom and she said, "please excuse the mess, but we live here."  Ahhh....those were the sweetest words I had ever heard, "we live here".  Of course her house isn't perfect, with a few clothes on the floor and things on the bathroom counter.  It was an eye opening moment for me.  Those words gave me permission to not be embarrassed that we LIVE in our home.  That kids make messes. That some days I leave my shoes and clothes lying on the ground at the foot of my bed because I was just too tired to put them away properly.  That the dishes don't always get done before I go to bed. And there is a constant mound of clean laundry that needs to be folded in the chair in my bedroom. Those words helped me realize that I don't have to be perfectly tidy to allow others into my home. What a relief.

So with that in mind, excuse me while I go do the dishes and pick up the living room because a friend will be here any minute.

little people

I think I've turned a corner in my life.  It's been coming on for a while.  Let me explain.  I used to not like other people's children...very much.  I know it sounds horrible.  Aren't women suppose to be the nurturing ones?  Don't get me wrong, I love my own children, I just didn't have a desire to be around other people's children for extended periods of time.  Two hours was my limit on babysitting.  After that I was constantly checking the clock, wondering when their parents would come.  

A few years ago, a friend told me how much her children loved their uncle.  And she appreciated how he would talk to each of them individually and make them feel special because he was genuinely interested in them.  Something changed in me on that day.  I realized that children, weren't just children, they were little people.  And if you took interest in them, they could become your friend, not just your friend's child.  So I gave it a try.  Amazingly it worked.  Once I began to see children as individuals, they became so much more interesting.  It became fun to learn about them and I began to enjoy their company.

Years have past since this initial trial and the children around me have become important in my life.  Today I spent the entire day with other people's children.  And at the end of the day I am happy.  Happy to know and influence such interesting little people.

memoirs

I have often thought about writing a book.  A novel is out of the question because it requires dialog, and I am no good at writing that.  But recently I have read books that are memoirs of the lives of women.  I thought these books were so fascinating.  I loved looking into other peoples lives and seeing how they live.  The craziness in their life, made me feel as though there were others who experienced hardship mixed in with the fun and good, just like mine.

So I thought about it.  Yes, I could write a memoir about my life.  My childhood was just crazy enough, and I turned out just normal enough that it might work.  Then I realized that if I were to write a book about my life, I would have to write ALL of it.  The good, the bad, and the truly horrible.  Which would mean talking about things that have never been talked about.  It would exploit the actions of all of us,  myself included, some known and some unknown. Honesty would mean my family would be offended and embarrassed and I could lose some very important people in my life if it were ever to be published.

I think that, at least for now, there are some things that should remain unspoken.

finding balance

I struggle between wanting to give my children everything and wanting them to learn the value of work.  I want them to know that life isn't free but sometimes just want to give them something special "just because".

I recently read the book, "Glass Castle" that depicted the amazing life of a family who lived on nothing.  Among other things, they ate moldy bread and canned ham with maggots and food from other people's trash.  They lived in a shack and as children the loved going to school because it meant they would be warm and dry and have at least one meal that day.   They considered everyday items like shoes, clothes, baths and food as luxuries.  My emotions were so conflicted between feeling sorry for them and having a great admiration for them that I would put the book down not knowing if their life, or my life was better?  While I realize that my life with its warm home and bountiful food to eat is probably more desirable, I wonder if the plentiful lifestyle is detrimental to my children's upbringing.  Are they learning anything from being given everything?  Do they understand that although they may not like the taste of their chicken enchilada dinner, that somewhere a child will go without dinner tonight?  That ice cream is a luxury and not a necessity?

I was particularly struck by my internal struggle when in the book, the parents have no presents for their children for Christmas so the father took each child aside and gave them each a chance to pick and name their very own star from the sky.  I compare that to our own Christmas, with presents overflowing from beneath the tree and stockings stuffed with sweets and gifts.  Our children were so excited to see the presents on Christmas morning and loved their new bicycles and toys and clothes.  Then a few days later we gathered with our friends at a fun function to find out that our children were the only children in our group of friends that did not get Nintendo DS's from Christmas.  How do I explain that Santa Claus gave them DS's but not us?  How do I explain to them that we are the "poor" ones in our group, when in fact we are not "poor" at all, but do not have quite as much as others?  I tried to explain that each family is different, that we all live with different budgets and different lifestyles, but to this day (two months later) I daily hear the complaint that they do not have these hand-held video games that everyone else seems to have.  How do I help them be happy with what they have, instead of yearning for what they do not?

How do I help MYSELF be happy with what I have instead of looking at others in envy?

I find solace in the fact that I even ask the question.  The day that my life becomes extreme and I give in to one side or the other is when I should start to worry.  I suppose that is what life is about, finding balance in all things.

our friends family

I love my family.  My parents, my siblings, my exteneded family.  But I have another family.   They are my "friends family".  We don't get to choose our family when we are placed hereon earth and sometimes our personalities do not mesh as well as we'd like.  But our friends are the family we choose.  The family we pick because we admire their qualities, like their personalities, and enjoy just being with them.  We love them as if they were our own families.  But they have families of their own, and at times they must do what is necessary to provide for and protect those families.

We have an amazing group of friends.  People we admire emensely.  It is always sad when one of them moves away so that they can provide for their family.  I admire those that are willing to do what is necessary to be provident providers.  Even if it means that we don't get to see them as often.

When I think about my Friends Family I am amazed at the goodness people have within them.  They are amazing examples goodness.  In each of my friends I find many qualities that I try to emulate.  Just by example they encourage me to be better than I am.

Thank you friends.

people vs things

When we ask someone what they value more: people or things, the spoken response is almost always "people".  But then I am always surprised when their actions speak otherwise.  I especially notice this when someone I love picks a thing over me.  It stings.  It makes my stomach ache and my heart weep.  I am offended.  But mostly I am disappointed.  Disappointed that someone I love chose IT over ME.  That things won out.  That I was not valued enough.  Then the question begs: Am I worthy enough to be valued?  Logically I know that I am of value.  That it is the person choosing things over people that are to blame.  But it still leaves me wondering.  Like a child who wonders if it was her fault that her parents divorced.  As she grows older, she knows the answer.  That it's not her, it's them.  But even as an adult the doubt lingers.  Could she have been better behaved, or smarter, or sweeter?  Would it have helped?  The answer is no.  Always no.  And yet, the question remains in her heart for a lifetime.

And then the real question comes.  "What would I have done in the same situation?"  And the real answer follows.  Thankfully I can often say "no",  and I can be confident that I would have chosen them over the thing.  But there are times when the truth is not so pretty, or so certain.  My integrity wavers and I don't always choose the noble or "right" way.  That's when the full circle moment happens.  Who have I hurt in my quest for things?  Who has felt the ache in their stomach and weeping in their heart because of my choices?  Who have I offended?

goodbye for now, old friend

I became in contact with an old friend again after many years via Facebook. A long time ago we were not just friends, but close and dear friends. Very quickly it became apparent that we had taken different paths in life.  I chose a family life based on faith and love and living honestly. While she also had a family, her life was lived in stark contrast to my own.  She hung with a "hard" crowd and her body began to reflect her lifestyle in all manner of images imprinted upon it.  She chose a life a partying, drugs, drinking and the like.  While she loved her children dearly, it wasn't enough to rid herself of her increasingly hardened lifestyle.  Two days ago I learned that she passed on from this life.  At 31 years of age, she left behind two beautiful children who now have no mother.  I do not know the details of her death, but my gut tells me is it was self inflicted.  And while she may not have intentionally ended her own life, her lifestyle took it from her.

I mourn the loss of her young life.  I mourn the memory of our childhood friendship, which remains vivid in my memory.  I mourn for the two precious children who will grow up with out a mother.  I mourn for her parents who I know loved her dearly.  I mourn that she never knew the truth about how an honest life makes one happy.  I am saddened that she felt emptiness within herself and ignorantly tried to fill with all the wrong things. I mourn for all that she will never experience. I mourn for my dear friend.

It is times like these that I am grateful for the knowledge of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  I find comfort in knowing that someone on the other side of the veil will teach her the truth. I pray that she will recognize truth and goodness when it comes before her. I have found solace in that someday she will be reunited with her children.

Good bye Suzanne, until we meet again.

a new year

Today is January 2, 2011.

There is so much that I want to accomplish this year.  So much to learn, to do, to strive for, to repent of.  It always seems like the new year is a good time to set goals.  Some years I am able to accomplish all or at least most of my goals, and then some years...well let's just say...life takes it's own course and goals have to be adjusted and modified to fit new circumstances.  None the less, goals are good to make and I think even better if you write them down.  Somehow the act of writing them down, makes them more real.

• Become physically stronger.  I have never in my life been over weight (thank you Illingsworth genes!), but I have not always been strong or fit.  I want to be strong, I want my soft places to become firm, my heart to beat strongly and my lungs to breath deeply with out that horrible burning sensation when I exert myself.  And if by doing so I happen to look fabulous in a bathing suit...all the better.
• Finish the pharmacy tech program and find a job in a pharmacy.
• Become financially secure.  By that I mean that I want to have a plan how to live within a budget and have a plan to get out of debt.  I know that this is a process and will not happen over night.  I also know that we will never be rich, and that is ok.  I only want to be financially healthy.
• Hawaii 4-0.  Ok, so this one is not practical and probably frivolous, but in some way, I feel it's necessary.  Q works so hard and never asks for much for himself, and this is something he really wants.  I want it too, so we will try our best to get there.

I look forward to the challenges these goals bring.  I look forward to sacrificing somethings so that we can fulfill these.  I think only through hard work and sacrifices can we really enjoy the blessings and accomplishments in life.