A quick turn of time.

I am hoping that I will be granted a time turner this Christmas, the long, spindly chain to wrap around my hand in its eternal rounds of loops and gold, the spinning sand piece and the constellations etched all about it. Not only is it an excellent dabbling of jewelry to enjoy it also serves as a doorstep into the past. I would love to re-walk the hot tar of Hillsdale again in blissful delight that is involved with you, my dear best friend, Libby Daniel. It seems yesterday, we all say that, but in all pure honesty it does. It feels like I just stepped out of that gold rimmed afternoon where we took photos against the dying Fall light. Do you remember that, Lib? We were practically drinking in the last rays of sunshine that evening. We just could not let it go and I think we were granted a little bit of a miracle that evening, I think the sunset took longer than it usually would. I think it hesitated near the horizon, at the rim of dusk, gazing down at these two girls and a sister and her friend who could not stop relishing in all of its glory. Its been a few years now, since I first met you in a small Sunday school classroom, immediately jumping onto the opportunity to have a new friend, a dissociated member to the cast of faces already on Hillsdale. I couldn't conceal my awe, I was in awe, it was this being of orange and sass that I could not look away from. None of us could. You wandered into our open arms. We have always seen the gold in you.
Dear Libby,
Hey girl. It's your birthday, uh-huh, it is. Nineteen. It feels a little older now that you are here actually. I feel as if I access bits and pieces more to my own age as everyone else reaches it. As if we are filling up a canteen, you are familiar with these as I well know, an aging canteen that is not empty but nowhere close to as full as it should be. Can you believe that we are nineteen? We, its always been a we too. Abercrombie and Liberatchi. Are we ready to keep on moving up? Of course, of course we are. Perhaps. But the beauty is that no matter what state we currently find ourselves in, its happening. It is an unexpected slide that we get to fall upon and then find our course, get our seating and figure out along the way. So here we go, fitting our wee bums (no matter what we tell ourselves) into this seat that we have found, yours is probably a pillow with embroidery and I am hoping mine was knitted for me. This will be fun, no? Yes, this is fun. I love you, soul friend. I love you so. Soulfully. See you so so so so soon. It's only a leap and skip away from each other now. Hawppiest Birrdayiest Day. I love you, again, I love you.
Love, Abs (you were first)

Muneribus

Kindness, a gift greater than any other. I have officially met kindness, he is not very tall, has hair whiter than my sweet Gma's, scrunches his nose frequently and laughs very, very often.

I have seen and met many people since arriving in this state of rainbows, monsoons, and aloha. It is exactly what it was promised it would be. And there is one who fully emulates the beauty of the Aloha spirit, but how did he come to be that way? How does any person reach the situation where we give freely and ask for nothing in return? It cannot simply be where we were raised, though soft Hawaiian days may have assisted in molding this boy, or those who raised us. Perhaps it is an innate gift endowed to us to bear each and every day. Like anything it must be that choice you make every morning when you arise and settle your feet upon the earth beneath you and choose kindness, we have to choose those type of things each morning with the sneaking rays of sun that slip through the cracks in the walls and through the slats of our windows.

Now since having shaken the very hand of kindness I have begun to feel a little change within me, a small urge to do things for others more often than I have before. One of the things I want the most is to make others happy, it cannot be too hard now can it? There is always the Cosmo approach to it, hit your head on something, throw out a few jokes, do a jig, and appreciate some old Charlie Chaplin techniques. Also the Mother Teresa approach: "We can do no great things: only small things with great love." I'm a firm believer of this one, my very favorite shirt that I have acquired over the years actually sports the Mother herself and that quote and this is, indeed, my own interpretation of that. Small kindnesses: a hug at the right time, listening intently and devotedly, a lovingly written note, a fist bump, holding a door open, all the small things that remain in our memories so fondly. Those things. And just loving is also enough, when you give that to others you would be surprised at how they grow. We all know what it feels like to be loved, loved in just the right way. And love changes for each person, there is, as F. Scott Fitzgerald once said, "There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice." Love is a kindness that anyone can share, and everyone can accept. We love as easily as we breathe but do not always share it as fluently. So what if we expressed that love as frequently and easily as we breathed? Just a thought. I may exercise it, an outpouring of love for those about me not held in but spread about to all that want a cuppa. So if you receive a letter or another form of communication from me soon know that your ears will be filled with love. And then last of all, the Piccadilly approach. Just kill 'em with kindness, be yourself, be authentic and those around you will respond to that in a positive fashion and fill in the space you have left for them to be them. Beautifully or Dastardly. Either way they are they. And that is a kindness in of itself.

So I want to thank kindness and kill 'em with small things and laughter. And maybe do some real school work. That'll do, that'll do.

Placing Happy

I feel inclined to place ten pieces of happiness out for inspection and to be followed with a few hallelujah's.

1. Today was one of those sublime mornings where all my good intentions to complete school work wafted away with each singing breeze and instead I sat cross-legged on my floor, lost in a laughing contest and conversation with an old friend over the telephone.

2. Whilst holding a class discussion in History today I got to discover my new classmates views of history and I was the one to prompt it out from them. I got a few funny looks but one girl gave me a reassuring foot pat and a "good job" and that was all I needed frankly. And Daniel went before me and covered the entire chapter, that cleared up a lot of stress. Anthropology majors are good people.

3. John, Paul, George & Ringo. They feature more in the daily than one would expect. I'll always love that Gringo Ringo.

4. Acknowledging how beautiful pregnant women are.

5. I was informed that there are 59 days until Friday the 13th. I get to return to my Valley on that day, and though that's not a piece of paradise like Hawaii there is no denying the adoration one has for home. Nothing fits quite the same as the place where your feet trod with such surety. Home is where I am with you? Utah, you have become a home.

6. Savages. Woman. Finding those whom you can raise your voice considerably with are a real gift actually.

7. The mountains that lace upwards behind campus. I cannot stop expecting to see a giant rear back it's excellent head with craggy eyebrows and tiny eyes from those hills. They are a fairy tale. It's everytime I begin to look at them my mind rushes to Spiderwick, Narnia, Atlantis and Land before Time all at once, there is to much childlike imagination running through the trees up there. It's just as grand when you enter in as well, give or take a few mosquitoes of course!

8. That cubism exists, that grizzly bears do not live out in Hawaii, that you can reserve silence and deserve it as well, that scripture power never ceases giving and that that imagination plays such a key role in the past. Say goodnight to the dwarfs of dreams.

9. I came into my dorm this morning after rushing out into the morning to Intercultural Communications with Pajama's strewn about my room, my room was unruly. And when I returned it had all been set into place again, what a sweet mercy, I felt tears prick in my eyes because I needed a little push and help and I didn't even know it. Still smiling to myself.

10. Music, and the fact that The Head and the Heart now have a new album out. Shake. Be still my soul, I have listened to it over and over. And I found Ben Howard, take a gander and listen to Keep Your Head UP. I'll keep this kid close.

urge

I have a whole garden full of urges to be able to write something stirring. Oh man, words must be the most ridiculous medium that there is. They, simply put, will not listen. Not matter how you push or prod, demand and require, they will not just yield to you something akin to Donne or Hemingway. I'll forgive them on a later date and for now just thank the heavens for language. I'll walk their paths, the paths of words. See where they connect and intermingle with one another. After all I was searching for was me.

I.

I kept asking myself why I needed to stand so rigidly. Why were my ankles keeping each other company and why were my heels fit so firmly to the floor.

Unresisting I felt all of it enter. The universe rang about in the echoes of the shower space. Calling to corners and to the passerby's. Asking the whole entire time the same question, be change? I needed to change. The breath of angels need to change. And so do I.

Because who sees who you truly are? You could ask the members of late night bathroom trips, or friends that belong only in your well-lit kitchen. You could look to past love's, future love's, even those who you can only pretend you got to love. (They always seem to be the most heart-felt ones about it all) You could peer into the carpet bag of magic tricks of your grandfathers, or shake out the dust in your aunt's music books. Scamper about searching for linen skirt of your mom's because it knew her so well, so perhaps it could accommodate you similarly? Continue looking, ask all of your acquaintances and keep checking with your friends. Who sees who you truly are? Can you even see you? There are layers of old coats and marbles on a few, some are dressed up in rag-time tunes. There are a few who can truly see you, who you truly show you. Family is a funny place to start. Greeting with plum hands and heavy scarves. But the path torn with the hopeful awaits hope. Peace peeks behind curtains. Keep a sharp eye out for the words you most need to circle over and over until they remain stalwart and alone on the page. Keep a kind eye out for those souls who beat like yours. Keep a hand out for the breath of angels. Swim in the ocean with the salt and heat all in your head and beneath your feet keep corals colleagues dart and spin away.

 

I stood even straighter, an Alice potion effect took place, I think I grew. My spine pulled towards the ceiling and I could feel the dust settle on the slick floor. And then I stilled, everything stilled, and a lightness expanded in my head. The same when alone in the ocean for the first time. I breathed a fresh new breath and shook off my old bones and stepped into my cadmium towel.

Orangication

I know now there are some who are made to smile, they cannot stop! No matter how hard they try, the smile cannot be wiped off with an eraser, napkins, sticks, stones, little rocks, serious words, or even those sad stories you hear on the radio. They try, geniuinely, and sadness is never a stranger but for some unexplainable reason, a smile cannot help but perk up the corners of their mouth, even their eyes cannot resist twinkling doggishly out at the world. No, it just doesn't happen. Sweet smilers.

Extraordinary Post Conditions

 

Who needs to beard yourself when you have the sea? There's sand and a breeze, I cannot fathom that the "sea could possibly just be a wetter version of the sky" (Regina Spektor line), a rhythm deep in the cavernous caves created by crabs, children are adorned only in sand, the sun becomes your very best friend (until he scornfully burns you when he gets jealous). But until that moment and even then still, all of it is sublime.
Just fine.

Take heart and look about I know that there is not one way possible that Hawaii could have risen out of the depths to be this majestic beauty, the queen of the ocean.

If not for our loving Heavenly Father, he knew what this land can do to a heart, to the skin, to the soul, to anybody from anywhere.

 

Pineapple and folding chairs.

Cheeky kids letting you know all about it.

"This is the place"