claire white

i like this photo of my sister.
i think it feels like real real.

in other thoughts:

This message by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf from last LDS General Conference has really stuck with me; this line in particular:

"Isn't it true that we often get so busy?  And, sad to say, we even wear our busyness as a badge of honor, as though being busy, by itself, was an accomplishment or sign of a superior life."

guilty.  

I'm finding 18 credits & 3+ jobs harder to juggle than I had anticipated.  I suppose I knew it was a pretty lofty plan to begin with, but I think I grinned at the challenge, happy to be an example to who-knows-who of hard productive work 24/7.  In fact, I added more goals to the plan.  A new style blog, scheduled to launch october 1st (didn't happen).  More branding and marketing of my shop (didn't happen).  Promoting fall family photo shoots (didn't happen.....unless this counts?).  But with each goal I added to the list, I stood a little taller, a little prouder.  And the weight of that silly badge got bigger. 

I've worn that badge for too long, and with too much unwarranted pride. I think I came to this conclusion on my own before, but with guilt attached.  Guilt because as much as it looked as though I were living this "superior" busy life, I knew, inside, that what it really meant was half-arsing (excuse my french) everything I did.  

A mediocre student.  

A mediocre employee.  

A mediocre blogger.  

and in turn: a mediocre human being.  

wrong.

I suppose I don't know how to say in words how wrong that thinking is.  It just is.  wrong.  I'm not totally okay with not being an excellent student/employee/blogger.  I want to be excellent.  I want to be the best.  but best can be measured differently if I choose for it to.  I have to remind myself that I do have that choice.  I don't want to regret my life in the moment of living it.  And because of that, you make choices, you slow down, and you listen to that voice inside of you that helps you see what's most important.  Like visiting Papa Ned and Gma Jo.  And hearing the stories of their first car.  Or engaging in an impromptu class discussion that gets you completely off track and onto something better.  Or going to the temple after much too long a wait and feeling like everything was going to be ok.  Or taking enough time to think of someone else's situation that it brings you to tears and to your knees because you actually feel pain for them.  

I know I've said this before so many times in so many ways: but I want to be right here in the now.  Why is that so hard?  It should be hard to be in the past or in the future, but that stuff is easy.  It's the right now that is the hardest thing to grasp and understand.  But maybe I'm complicating it.  Like this rambling that I have no idea how to conclude.