- Do not use the following "bad" words:
a lot, stuff, nice, thing, things, got, gotten, you, your, yourself, weird, kinda, sorta, nice, something, very. - Towards is not a word.... it is toward. (Note: spell check thinks "towards" is a word.)
- Do not start sentences with "There is" or "There are...." BORING!!
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Green Sheet
In the fall of 1999 I was entering my Junior year of high school. I had a bomb ass English teacher named Mrs. Kerr, who handed out a green piece of paper that we were told to keep forever and ever, amen. I kept mine. This green sheet highlighted important grammatical rules to remember and never forget. Our lives depended on this green sheet. I knew I still had mine, but I officially found it in junk room #1 about 10 minutes ago. In honor of my bomb ass English teacher, I share some of her wisdom:
Lists
I have a junk room. Actually, I have 2 junk rooms. One is my old bedroom that is piling over with 10+ years of stuff I've been holding onto for God knows what. The other is a collection of boxes in the basement from when I moved home a year ago. I only confess this to announce that I'm cleaning out my closet. I'm throwing crap away, giving a second life to things I forgot about and donating the rest. It's been a strangely liberating task. I will never deny that I keep things. Things that meant something for a season gone and forgotten and mean nothing now. Things that I'm afraid of throwing away because I don't want to forget the memories. Turns out I have a great brain, and I've learned the greatest and most important moments in my life will never be forgotten - regardless of how many relics I stow away.
In cleaning out my old bedroom, I came across three lists I made during a class my second year of college. I don't remember the topic, but I remember making the lists. The first list is a list of ten things I would do (in order) if I found out I had six months to live. I wrote: visit all continents, do service, include the special people in my life in my travels, move back home, make amends, write letters to everyone (I didn't specify who 'everyone' was), spread the gospel, give stuff to Goodwill, work out, and play soccer with my old team. I'm mesmerized by how little this list would change today with all the changing and growing I've done in the six years that have passed since the list was penned. It validates my heart.
The second list was a list of five things I would like to accomplish in the next three years (2002-2005). The list read: healthy, school - BS in Psych, financially dependent, work out & get back in shape, and become more tolerant of differences. Turns out none of those things have happened. I, surprisingly, don't feel anything negative about the fact that none of these things happened. I do have a list of five incredible things that have happened that knocked the original list out of the ball park. They are: getting sober, reconciling familial relationships, building a relationship with Christ, becoming active in my church community, and rediscovering my heart. The irony is that these incredible things happened when I didn't have a clue that they needed to happen. It's beautiful how life works that way.
The last list was of lifetime goals, which I discovered were very superficial and indicative of where I was at in my life. I wrote this list almost an exact year before I entered treatment. I was a lost little girl whose only direction was whatever direction everyone else was going in. That's not to say I wouldn't still like to accomplish some of these goals. I'm just saying that they're not that important anymore because I've discovered the joy in the things in front of me. My goals in 2002 were: an LDS temple marriage, husband, children, move to the East Coast,6-figure salary, Grad school, complete a marathon, Psych degrees, own home, emotional baggage dropped, Dean's List, open a pet shelter in Logan, Utah, travel to Europe.
I'm throwing these lists away. They served their purpose years ago, but are now just pieces of paper. I don't even really want to write new lists. Today, I'm totally content with just being in today -- save for the 103-107 degree heat indices.
In cleaning out my old bedroom, I came across three lists I made during a class my second year of college. I don't remember the topic, but I remember making the lists. The first list is a list of ten things I would do (in order) if I found out I had six months to live. I wrote: visit all continents, do service, include the special people in my life in my travels, move back home, make amends, write letters to everyone (I didn't specify who 'everyone' was), spread the gospel, give stuff to Goodwill, work out, and play soccer with my old team. I'm mesmerized by how little this list would change today with all the changing and growing I've done in the six years that have passed since the list was penned. It validates my heart.
The second list was a list of five things I would like to accomplish in the next three years (2002-2005). The list read: healthy, school - BS in Psych, financially dependent, work out & get back in shape, and become more tolerant of differences. Turns out none of those things have happened. I, surprisingly, don't feel anything negative about the fact that none of these things happened. I do have a list of five incredible things that have happened that knocked the original list out of the ball park. They are: getting sober, reconciling familial relationships, building a relationship with Christ, becoming active in my church community, and rediscovering my heart. The irony is that these incredible things happened when I didn't have a clue that they needed to happen. It's beautiful how life works that way.
The last list was of lifetime goals, which I discovered were very superficial and indicative of where I was at in my life. I wrote this list almost an exact year before I entered treatment. I was a lost little girl whose only direction was whatever direction everyone else was going in. That's not to say I wouldn't still like to accomplish some of these goals. I'm just saying that they're not that important anymore because I've discovered the joy in the things in front of me. My goals in 2002 were: an LDS temple marriage, husband, children, move to the East Coast,6-figure salary, Grad school, complete a marathon, Psych degrees, own home, emotional baggage dropped, Dean's List, open a pet shelter in Logan, Utah, travel to Europe.
I'm throwing these lists away. They served their purpose years ago, but are now just pieces of paper. I don't even really want to write new lists. Today, I'm totally content with just being in today -- save for the 103-107 degree heat indices.
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