Sunday Afternoon

I'm sitting above the fast whining road
Everyone's moving, they will not be slowed
I'm sitting inside the vast college dorm
Everyone's grinding, cuz that is the norm

Where is the silence? Where is the peace?
This day is for rest! Relax my friends, please!
A day to delight in fam'ly and faith
A day of respite from a blistering pace.

I know because those are the things that I felt
When today in the chapel I broke and I knelt.
Prayed for Oh God, the Eternal Father above
To remember our promises, made out of love.

Then partook of the emblems so simple and pure
And shared with my friends, enjoying this cure
Direction, confidence, forgiveness and zeal
They burn in my heart, and I know that God's real.

And so I choose to make time for my God,
I know that I'm blessed against all the odds
I'll give time to my family, to service and prayer
It's an honor do so, for I know He's there

Climbing on Monday with my friend Sam

This year's annual Waltz and Shmaltz at Wellesley

Kevin and Sydney post-shmaltzing 

My new and decorated room!

The Waterfall Effect

I have this analogy that I use sometimes when I'm trying to describe how I feel. Mainly in moments where there's a lot to be felt. I first came up with it almost exactly one year ago, on the airplane when I was flying from New Zealand to Utah to report at the MTC.

I've heard a person's mood described as water before, calm and reflective or choppy and agitated. But sometimes there's just so many feelings rushing through you, so raw and powerful, that it can only really be described as a waterfall. And at that point, when someone asks you how you feel, you can try to stick a spoon under the waterfall to get a sample, but no matter how far in you put your spoon, when you pull it out all you have is a numb hand and an empty spoon.

I'm thinking about this again, because I've had some waterfall moments this week. As I mentioned, it's been exactly one year since I got home from my mission to Bulgaria. Maybe that's not a big deal for anyone else, but it sure is for me. As I was leaving my mission, I made myself goals for where I'd be in a year's time. I've lost the sheet of paper, but I remember the general feeling. I didn't even know where I'd be in a year! I had no idea what my plans were for that summer, what school I was going to attend, what I was going to study or with whom I'd be spending my time. Now I know. Here's a brief review of my year in pictures.

February I arrived home

   

    

March I did a once-in-lifetime roadtrip with the squad from high school

April I permanently moved out, visited Germany, checked out Harvard and ended up in Utah

May I moved to California with Danny and started selling pest control

June and July were spent working, exploring, and making lifelong friends

August I made the road trip back by myself (Danny was already on his mission) and flew out to the East Coast for a weeklong backpacking/canoeing trip before school started

September I started classes, ROTC, dating, and everything else that comes with college life

October and November I learned stuff

December I survived my first set of finals and made it back to New Zealand

 

And after one of the best summers of my life in New Zealand, I'm back at school again, still trying to learn stuff. Also trying to figure out summer plans. More updates on that next week probably. Unless anyone wants to throw some much needed advice in the comments? Jump School at the Air Force Academy or a Russian study abroad program in Kyrgyzstan? Work and study in Utah or go home to New Zealand? They're all too good to be true.

Maybe I don't have a good answer to how I feel now. But knowing that I thought the same thing throughout this year, and now look back with nothing but gratitude I can give a resounding amen to Trace Adkins...

"You're gonna miss this. You're gonna want this back. 

You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast. 

These are the good times, so take a good look around. 

You may not know it now, but you're gonna miss this."

Noisy

Noisy. It's one of those words. You know, the ones where if you say it enough times in a row you start to wonder whether it's actually a legit word or not? Is that really how it's spelled? What a weird combination of letters!

Noisy. Noisy. Noisy noisy noisy. Noisy noisy noisy noisy noisy noisy.

Am I right? Maybe? Okay, I realize you may very well think I'm crazy right about now. So we're just going to move on. I picked that title because a lot of the highlights of my week have revolved around making - or actively not making - noise.

On Monday night, Harvard played Boston College in the semifinal round of the Beanpot, a hockey tournament that's been going on here for almost 70 years. It's a big deal. Big enough that they played in TD Garden, which, Wikipedia just informed me, is the largest indoor sports arena in New England. And guess who sang the national anthem? That's right, we did! Under Construction, the a cappella group I sing with, was asked to open the game.

Pretty sweet, even though we ended up losing 2-1. I've been singing with Under Construction since last fall. We're "Harvard's Premiere Christian a cappella group" and the people I sing with and opportunities we've had to share our beliefs through music have been one of my favorite parts about Harvard so far. Here's some more pictures; like, follow and subscribe ;)

Other moments related to noise this week:

• Ward temple trip - silence
• Auditions for Harvard's cultural rhythms - noisy
• Standing at attention in this semester's ROTC opening ceremonies - silence
• First week back at our regular post-church LDSSA dinners - noisy
• Lots of grinding out the homework - silence
• Interfaith worship service with guest speaker Chaz Smith (the "watermeLONE guy") - noisy
• Visiting a Quaker "meeting of friends" this morning - silence

It's been another solid week. They just fly by. My quote this week is from my favorite country artist - name the song for bonus points ;)

When this world gets crazy
And tries to break me
And I had all I can stand
I can close my eyes
No matter where I am
And just be still

Free Solo

Wow. Wow wow wow. I impulse-bought tickets to watch the movie Free Solo at an Imax theatre last night, and it exceeded expectations. (Shout out to Coulson for joining me!) After reading Honnold's autobiography over break, it was captivating to watch him defy gravity in person on such a huge screen! Also, I felt super cool, understanding all his jargon about crimping, jugging, chossy rock and route beta ;)
I actually had my own chance to go climbing this week, Harvard students got free entry to a local climbing gym on Wednesday night! Really appreciated getting to know these two humans better, there are so many good people at this school. Also tried to go again at the campus gym yesterday, but it hasn't opened yet, so I took a lap on my bike up the frozen Charles instead.

This kind of ride also represents another aspect of my week, and second reason for the post title. It's been an adjustment going from a house/van full with my whole family, to living alone again. Not that I actually spend that much time alone, (even now, I'm sitting in our common room with my roommates and a few others watching the Super Bowl, and commiserating about classes starting for real tomorrow.) But I do sleep in a room by myself, and despite having heaps of incredible friends, I often end up needing to snag quick meals or study in the library by myself. However, despite the resemblance of that last sentence to Sid the sloth (link)...

...I quite enjoy it! Don't get me wrong, I'm a social person, and if I know I'm gonna be in the library for more than half an hour, I usually send out a few texts to invite other friends from the same classes to join me. But I also enjoy having time to listen to podcasts and my music, time to think and pray, and the solitude to do things in the most efficient way possible without worrying about other people keeping up. So in that sense, I guess I can see why Alex Honnold likes to free solo. In the words of some random famous person Google just told me about,

"In solitude the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself." -Laurence Sterne