The Longest Note

"You can either complain the roses have thorns, 

or thank God the thorns have roses"

This week will mark the passage of a decade. In many ways this is my first real decade. So much has happened in my life since the dawning of the new millennium and unlike the '90s, I can remember all of it. I have grown up through all of it. The past four months have been especially significant. When I return to school next week, I will not be naive to the ways of life on my own. I have survived my first semester of college life (though at times it was admittedly a grudging effort). I have learned things about my life and myself that would have remained mysteries had I stayed home. I remember hearing older girls come home from BYU and talk about dealing with things they never thought they would have to. At the time I couldn't begin to comprehend what they meant, but I understand now, though the feelings in my case are far too complex to articulate. Or perhaps they are just too personal, too sacred to my soul to be cheapened at the will of a logical mind. 


Currently I am sitting in my comfortable room surrounded by my books and beautiful things that are small, tangible manifestations of who I am, of people and places that have made a difference in me over the decade. Among them are these treasures:

• A small box with a green bow. Inside, the box is filled with quotes about virtue, given to me on my birthday from a Young Women's president who meant it when she said she loved you. One thought that has stuck in my head is from George Bernard Shaw, "Better keep yourself clean and bright. You are the window through which you must see the world." Sage advice I have all but forgotten in life recently, and that I wish to strive for in the future.
• A plaque that has written on it the "ABC's of Love". This is a quiet souvenir from that 16th summer amidst the warm nights and fireflies of a small southern town. I have learned hard lessons on the heart from that moment in my life, and though I look back with a shake of my head on the year that followed, in the small, secret moments when I am completely honest with myself, I am not sure I would trade that week in for anything else. As I live on into the next year, I should try harder to heed the first hint from this list: Abandon Doubt. 
• Twinkle lights, a pink rubber duck, dried corsages, a candle that smells like summer and ribbons tied in bows. Simple pleasures that bring me simple joy.
• Shelves of books and a copy of "The Kiss" by Gustave Klimt. Both are here as a result of the hearts of good teachers, the kind of people I want to emulate in my own class room someday. These selfless educators reached beyond their tenure to instill in my heart a love of learning that has defined my path in life. If even one student remembers and is touched by me the way I remember and was touched by them, then I will have lived a successful life. Time will tell.
• Delicate and precious nic-nacs that serve no purpose other than beauty. Was it C.S. Lewis who said, "Art has no survival value, rather it is the thing that gives value to surviving."? Or something like that. These are a result of a mother who exposed me to loveliness in culture, food, movies, books, music and shopping. I smell the remnants of the Oscar de la Renta perfume she would wear when I was a little girl lingering on me from a date last night. It is a sophisticated, warm, beautiful scent I will remember all my life as the essence of my mother... especially when mixed with Olay facial cream.

A very large part of me would like very much to borough down in my closet until April when the trees start to bud and the hills are colored with grass an wild flowers and you can hear birds chirping on a morning clear from the rain that came in the night. I love seeing spring time. Because spring means summer and summer is what keeps me going once Christmas is over. As Daphne Loves Derby expressed in one of my favorite lines: 

I have been waiting,
For July to come around
I hear the Summer
Whispering the things to come

We have been waiting
For the sun to show it's face
Thank you sweet winter
But now we're desperate to move on

Yet despite this yearning I feel a strange excitement that only the promise of a new year can bring. I feel like this semester will be better than the last. I hope so. When people ask if I like BYU, I respond with much more enthusiasm that I really feel. It's not that I don't enjoy class, or the school overall. What I dread going back to is the bone chilling loneliness that comes as I sit alone in my tiny apartment, often on a Friday night, looking out onto a scene that could easily be a black and white photograph. It is the feeling of being trapped. Trapped by the cold, by my shyness, by my lack of transportation, by the mountains, by my dwindling bank account. Locked away from culture and the simple excitement that comes from wandering through a book store or sipping a mocha at a small cafe or eating something delectable you can get no place else. There is adventure in discovering these little nooks in life, and they are inexplicably unattainable to me. I hate that. Worse, I don't know how to fix it. But regardless, I am choosing to look on the next four months with optimism. Sometimes life surprises you, and I like surprises so bring 'em on.  

A seminary teacher described the next ten years of my life as the Decade of Decision." And the time for the big choices will come. I have driven myself crazy since August wondering why they weren't all coming at once, but as Victor Frankl said, "The last human freedom is the ability to choose one's attitude." For now, for right this moment and for all the moments to come over this semester and beyond, I choose to live. 

Live beautifully, live like a lady, live with elegance and grace. Live to enjoy Jazz one day and Country the next. Live to enjoy my guilty pleasures. Live to wear as many cardigans and pearls as I dang well please.  Live to take inspirations from others and make them my own. Live to try a little harder to be a little better. Live to serve. Live to smile.  Live to serve with a smile. Live to make it about them, whatever it is and whoever they are. Live to be Sarah. 

I used to be pretty good at that last part.