It's Unfair in My Eyes

I know November is the month of “thanksgiving”, where we all write about what we are grateful for. I planned on doing such a thing and sharing it, but since starting a brand new job I’ve been a little swamped (“stressed” is a better word, but swamped works too). I would write about this particular topic any day of the week, of any month of any given year. It is something I think about almost constantly because I realize how unfair and imbalanced it is in this world.

I cannot help but write today of how grateful I am for my health and for a body that works properly every single day.

It hurts my heart to think of the men, women, and children in the world who do not have this incredible blessing and priviledge.

I think of this because the last 2 years has been heart wrenching for me. I have not lost any one in my family, but friends have lost loved ones to cancer and other forms of sickness. Young children, vibrant with life so bright it makes your eyes crinkle with a smile*. Young men, bold, courageous and positive even through “miles of clouded hell"**.

It always kills me to see such bright candles snuffed out and smoking before their wax begins to melt. Winds and howling rainstorms do their best to make their flames sputter and die out, and yet they burn hotter with the resistance.

I always wonder why some of us are given a clean bill of health, with minor accidents and very few (if any) life-shattering ailments, while others are riddled with disease, cancer, deformities, and complications. What makes those of us who are healthy so special? Did we miss a line in heaven, a line that required us to experience some sort of physical, mental, or spiritual ailment? Were we selfish and skipped that line? I surely hope not.

I do not know answers. But it is definitely on the top of my list to ask when I die and meet my Maker.

Today, I’m grateful for a healthy life. A life without complications. I suppose because I am so blessed, it is my duty to help the others who struggle, who hurt and suffer through their trials of physical, mental, spiritual and emotional duress.

*Visit Mille's 5K Princess Run Facebook Page. Join in on the fun next year! **Imagine Dragons- “It’s Time” dedicated to Tyler Robinson.     See the Tyler Robinson Foundation website here  

Welcome to Adulthood

Being a recent college graduate, I have realized that when I thought I was an “adult”…I really wasn’t. I remember after high school graduation we thought we were so grown up and knew all about being an “adult”.  

High school definition of adult: the ability to do whatever you want, when you want; legal status; legit access to all things grand in this world; no school (if you so choose); freedom.

Then we hit college (psst… high school doesn’t prepare you for college. Really. They lie to you). All of a sudden we are given freedom (cue heraldic angels singing in the background). Our teachers don’t care if we miss class because if we do, it is our decision because we are “adults”. They also do not give one hoot if you don’t turn in your assignments, because, once again, we choose whether or not to do so because we are “adults”. Some of us worked either full or part time during college and that created another decision for us to make as “adults”. Do we work and sleep? Or do we work, play, get no sleep and hate ourselves the next day? Such tough choices. 

College definition of adult: the realization that we don’t have as much freedom as we thought (there are things such as laws that can get you in trouble); college is easier but ten times harder than high school; we actually have to apply ourselves; application to either work or college, or both, is extremely more taxing than previously thought; being responsible is getting to class on time, getting papers turned in, and staying remotely social.

“And now we present to you…the Class of 2013!” (Applause, applause, applause, I live for the applause, applause… sorry, had to.) aaaaaaaaand…BAM! You’re an adult! Really? I thought we had already achieved the “adult status” in life. I became responsible, I turned in my papers on time (well, relatively…some due dates were ridiculously tight), and I had a job that I kept since high school. What more do you want?! Well, children, the adults want more of your soul. Yep. Forget the weekend parties or purely social functions. Forget sleeping in until 9 or 10. Just forget everything they told you in high school and college, because neither of those prepares you for what the real world really is. Okay, it isn’t really that bad, and your soul isn’t sucked out of you by a soul-starving dementor. You just get a slap in the face.

My junior year of college I mapped out what I wanted to do when I graduated. I wanted to join the Peace Corps for a couple of years and then travel and become an ethnographer (someone who studies people/cultures in that particular culture’s element). I didn’t need to really look for a job in my home town because I was planning on leaving. I had an internship and a job with my City’s Mayor’s Office, and my part time job but other than that I didn’t spend time on networking. Well, two months into my senior year I was married (to an incredible man, I might add). Plans changed and suddenly, I realized my dad was right (yep, I said it). As adult as I thought I was, I still wasn’t up to par because I couldn’t see that plans don’t always work and you always need to prepare for, and expect, changes. 

Post-college adult: frantically searching for a job because you didn’t plan for the future because you thought you had everything planned out; lost; bereft; tearing your hair out; wondering when things got so expensive; your parents were right all along; dang, that BS certificate looks goooood on your wall.

I was stuck in a rut for months after graduation. Every company wanted experience. Three to five years of it. What?!  And my degree was so focused on cultural studies and people that my communication degree all of a sudden became detrimental to my search. Everyone wanted a communication graduate who could do PR work, write media campaigns or advertising. Uh….I can tell you what a person is feeling by watching them, or I can tell you how their relationship with that person is, or I can tell you how their particular culture and background forms who they are. I don’t do advertising.

Just as I realized my husband had married a child (he already has his dream job and is successful), I got job offers. So-and-so heard from so-and-so that I was good at such-and-such and voila! I had interviews.

While I may not have ended up where I wanted to after I graduated, I’m learning more about myself and what I can and cannot do because I was thrown into this adult world, flailing and protesting, without a life jacket. I’m still at my two jobs I’ve had for years, but I’m moving up in them and I love it. I realize more and more that being an “adult” does mean you are responsible, dependable, honest, and trustworthy. But it also means that you can take changes and fly with them. Being an adult isn’t just one thing, it is a million different things put together. Sure we have the certain freedom we wanted as teenagers, but what is more important is how we use that freedom.

Life’s definition of an adult: having attained full size and strength; grown up and mature….and may I add, using that full size and strength to keep learning, growing, and using the freedom of being an adult to better yourself and the lives of others.  

"I believe I owe all the best parts of my adulthood to embracing my imperfections and showcasing them." -Beth Ditto

"A child becomes an adult when he realizes that he has a right not only to be right but also to be wrong." -Thomas S. Szasz

Graduation and Injury

As I type this with one hand, I suddenly appreciate my left arm a lot more! The last few months have been filled with so many memories it is hard to pick just one or two to talk about! SO I’ll choose my favorites! (Thank goodness for spell-check because without it, this would be a mess of mistakes!)

In the first week of June I was able to walk in my University’s General Commencement ceremony with my husband. We graduated from the University together; I received my Bachelor’s of Science in Speech Communication while he achieved his Master’s Degree in Real Estate Development. It was so much fun! Although we had to sit with our separate colleges during the commencement, it was so much fun to look down and see him sitting there while we exchanged the typical text messages of “why are you so far away?” and “you sure do look handsome/beautiful in your gown” Cheesy, but hey, we’re still “newlyweds”! I do have to mention that he is an avid fan of the University that is mortal enemies with my favorite University, the one we graduated from. It was such a prime moment for me to rub in his face that he is now a Ute and cannot bash my team like he used to. Best part of graduation ever was seeing him throw up the “U”!!  



The other memorable event the past few weeks is why I am typing with one hand and two fingers….I hate mason jars. Yep. I said it. I. HATE. Mason. Jars. Despite the present craze of these thick glass containers, I do not want them in my house. I don’t care if they are cute, you can make candles/drinks/candy/pies/cupcakes/crafts in or with them. They are evil.
One shattered in my hand (no, I wasn’t canning—I don’t even like to cook). Seriously. These thick, made-to-be-indestructible jars can shatter from little pressure in the right places. One shattered and tore up my left wrist. A couple of sliced tendons, destroyed wrist flexors, and a nicked nerve. Lovely. So I am now wearing a hard splint and my poor husband has to take up the slack my left arm would normally do. I never realized how much I use my left arm/hand!! The worst part? When the doctor/surgeon had to cut off my wedding rings because my hand was getting chubbier by the second. 

Because of this experience though, I have come to appreciate the fact that I have complete control and use of all my limbs. Up until now I haven’t had a reason to really think about how lucky I am to have arms that work properly and legs that do a lot of the grunt work as well. I cannot complain and not feel guilty. There are so many who are missing limbs who would take a flawed arm or leg over nothing. I am truly blessed because I have enjoyed so many pleasures in this life due to the fact I have all four of my limbs. I definitely won’t take them for granted anymore!

Morals/lessons of this entry: graduating from University is the BEST feeling in the world! Especially when you get to experience it with someone you love! Also, be careful with mason jars. You never know when one will attack you!

A Walk With Christ

This is a few days late, but I have finally found the time to share Easter experiences with you! 
As a kid, Easter Day is filled with candy, family, good food, bunnies, and maybe a stuffed chick or two. I don't think we truly understand the importance of such a day when we are little. As adults, our Easter Sunday is still filled with candy, family, and delicious foods (and a stuffed chick if you're my husband!). But the difference is in the feeling of the day. We focus more on the meaning of the day than the actions happening around us.



It was my first Easter as a married woman and it was incredibly fun! We may be adults, but we still hid Easter baskets for each other, spent time with each of our families (it's wonderful when you're immediate family and your in-laws live 5 minutes away from each other!), and reveled in the glorious sunshine and warm weather. Jeff and I talked about Christ and pondered about His life, death, and resurrection.Why? Well, I had the opportunity, per se, to take a walk with Christ through the last few moments of His life this week. It was eye-opening and heart wrenching. I have always felt that closeness with Him through tough times in my life, but it's different when you can sit, ponder, and feel that closeness when everything is going well.

For 8 days I opened an envelope and each "letter" had a scripture, thought, and a story. It made me think about the last few moments of His life and how He would have been feeling. How His mother felt watching her son suffer, how His friends had to stay back but support Him, and how those who did not believe before came to realize who was in their presence.
My favorite story was called "The Card Files". It's long, but I'm going to include it anyway. Maybe you'll see why it is my favorite (and why it made my cry so much that my husband was concerned!).
These made all the difference for my Easter Sunday this year. He is Risen! He is all-encompassing, all-loving. How incredible is that?

The Card Files

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room. There were no features except for the one wall covered by small index card files. These files stretched from floor to ceiling and went endlessly in both directions. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read, "Boys I Have Liked". I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realized that I recognized the names on each one. I then realized where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalogue system of my life. Here it was written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in every detail.

A sense of wonder and curiosity mixed with horror stirred within me as I began opening files and looking at their contents. Some brought joy and sweet memories, others brought a sense of shame and regret so intense that I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named, "Friends" was next to the one marked, "Friends I Have Betrayed". The titles ranged from the mundane, to the weird. "Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I Have Given", "Jokes I Have Laughed At", "People I Have Hurt", and many more. Some were almost funny in their exactness--"Things I Have Done In Anger" or "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents". Often, there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes, fewer than I had hoped. I was overwhelmed by the volume of life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my young life to write each of these thousands of millions of cards? 

Each card confirmed this truth because each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out a file marked, "Songs I Have Listened To", I realized the files grew to contain the contents. The cards were packed tightly, yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not at so much of the quality of music, but more by the amount of time I knew it represented. When I came to a file titled, "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out, inch by inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at the details. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

 A rage broke through me. "No one must see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them." In a frenzy, I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. I took it out and pounded it on the floor. Not a single card would come out. I desperately pulled out a card and tried to rip it, but it was as strong as steel. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a sigh, then I saw it, a box labeled, "People I Have Shared the Gospel With". The handles were brighter than those around it, newer and sadly, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to cry. Sobbing so deep it hurt my stomach. I fell on my knees and cried out in shame. The rows of shelves whirled around me. No one must ever know of this room! I must lock it up and hide the key. But as I pushed away the tears from my face, I saw Him.

No, please not here! Oh, anyone but Jesus! I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. In the moments that I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every single one? Finally, He turned and looked at me with pity in His eyes. But it wasn't the pity that angered me. I dropped my head and began to cry again. He didn't say a word, He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a card and one by one He began to sign His name over mine. "NO!", I shouted, rushing at Him. All I could find to say was, "No! No!", as I pulled the card from Him. His name should not be on those cards! But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive.

The name JESUS covered mine. He gently took the cards from my hand. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign all of the cards. I do not think I will ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next moment I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished". I stood up and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on the door. There are still cards to be written. 

I'm in Love! And I don't care who knows it!

Being married is fabulous. Seriously. It is so incredibly wonderful that I’m constantly on cloud nine (even if that cloud gets a little foggy and grey sometimes).

My boss is a marriage and relationship counselor and although my hunk of a man and I don’t need a counselor, we talk about relationships all time. I think that consists of the bulk of why I love my job-- my boss (weird, right?). Today we were discussing how marriages fall apart and some of the things couples could do to keep them together. She brought out this list and I absolutely love it! Sorry men, it’s basically focused on women.

Oh, and the best part? This list was created by a woman who had been married for over 50 years:)

10 Best Things You Can Do For Love

1. Don’t try to change what you fell for.
I see friends a year or so into their marriages and they aren’t happy. They thought that they could change their man (or woman) as the years went on. They fell for one person, but wanted another. Realize that if they don’t expect you to change, don’t expect them to change.

2. Be silly.
DO IT. Laugh, be crazy, have food fights, beat each other (lovingly) with pillows, play tag, hide from each other....do anything you can to keep the youth and the happiness alive. Besides, laughing adds years to your life---why not laugh with the love of your life? :)

3. Stop asking “Do I look fat?”

(my husband just laughs when I ask him this...still can’t decide if that means “yes” or “no” haha)

Men like a confident woman. Every time you ask him this you are either 1) looking for a compliment, or 2) you are seriously insecure. He married (or is dating) you! He loves you and he sees a beautiful woman. Jeff always says that I’m disrespecting what he loves, or that I’m offending his opinion when I put myself down. Interesting thought, huh?

4. Don’t nag!

Trick him into doing what you asked him to do hours ago....he’ll think it’s his idea and that is even better! Nagging makes him think you see him as being incapable of doing something on his own.

5. Don’t skimp out on pillow talk.

Ever. When we are sleepy, our defenses are down and we are more emotionally present and open. Some of my favorite memories are when Jeff and I are winding down for the night, we’ve thanked God for the day, and are just relaxing in bed. We share dreams, stories about our day, and how we feel about this or that. For some reason, less light allows someone to feel more open.

6. Compliment his skills in bed.

Seriously. Even something little like “You were great last night” can make him feel better.

Men are actually most loving when they feel manly, and nothing makes a man feel more manlier than being praised for his love-making skills. Keep it simple. And don’t wait for a response--just walk away. Don’t look for a return compliment because you gave the praise as a gift. Then watch how he’ll make an effort to be good to you after that.

7. Indulge in his passions.
If he comes home raving about a car, house, hobby, etc., ask him questions! My husband is obsessed with building homes and developing land. He’ll come home every day with a new idea or business venture and I love it! I indulge him in his passions, just like he indulges mine. It brings us closer.

8. Have a secret language.
Yeah, it sounds like elementary school, but trust me, it is worth it! It can be facial expressions, a look, hand squeezes, or a simple type of touch. Your “language” can communicate anything you need it to-- and get you out of sticky situations if you’re stuck talking to someone boring! My husband and I unknowingly started our own secret language in the first month we started dating. A hand squeeze or simple look has become very useful!

9. Get yourself in the mood.
Yes, ladies, I’m talking to you. We all know guys are almost always revved up and ready to go. As women, it may take us a little bit. Prepare yourself for sex. Get your motors running by thinking of your partner’s sexiest qualities, dream of your ideal sexual encounter, for at least 10 minutes every day.
My boss and I died laughing over this one. It is so relatable. She called men a microwave (easily and quickly heated) while women are more like ovens (it takes longer to heat up).

10. Keep the halo effect.
People let anger over one thing poison their whole view. Suddenly your partner is annoyingly different, unattractive, and selfish. Keep positive images and thoughts front and center.
Couples always let just one thing bother them, and then another problem evolves and eventually they pile up and your base is junk. Nothing halo-pretty about that.

Hopefully these 10 things keep the love alive in your life :)

Losing is Never Easy

“Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.” 
― Mitch Albom, For One More Day

We have all been there. The times when your world just got pushed out of whack with the news that someone you love, someone close to you, has just passed from this life onto the next. Now, I totally believe that there is a life after this one...whether that is Heaven, Hell, the Seven Layers that Dante discussed, or something greater....I can't see our existences just stopping.
But that doesn't make it any easier.
The past week or so has been filled with contemplation about death for me. Family members are really sick and in the hospital, grandparents are failing in their aging years, and friends' family members are being relieved of the pain of the cancer and illnesses that wrack their bodies.
This life is so short...cliche, yes, but true. I look back at the times where I have lost a friend or loved one and I wonder what I would have done differently. Would I have spent more time with them? Would I have said "I love you" more often, and showed them how much they meant to me? I don't have many regrets---but the ones I do have come from the fact that I failed to show how much someone meant to me. 
Don't do the same thing. This life is truly short and we never know when we will be passing on (and if you do, lucky you!), and we don't know when those we love will be taken from us. 
Knowing this, I spend a lot more time looking at the world around me. I am surrounded by gorgeous mountains, a valley filled with such diversity that it is almost breathtaking, and a sky that can be beautiful when cloudy or clear. I cherish the little time I have with family and friends more, and I try to make each interaction meaningful in some way. 
It only takes a second to lose someone. How will you spend that last second with them?

New Chapter!

So, hey everybody! If you’re reading this, you’re either a friend, family member, or my husband (love you all). I didn’t create this blog to go viral, to become famous, or to make a difference. I created this blog to write. To get the words out onto paper (or this case, a virtual piece of paper on a screen) that like to cram my head. It’s been a while since I have written anything! And I mean anything (besides a few letters to my brother and the pages my diary likes to keep secret), so I will apologize in advance.

I suppose I should address those who don’t know me… Hi, I’m Sophie. I’m a girl in her twenties, shoulder deep in college studies, and living in a city with a wonderful husband. Literature and reading is one of my favorite hobbies, along with dancing when I have the time, painting if I’m inspired, and the grande piano at my parent’s house…all could be called borderline obsessions. Pretty simple. I come from a family of 7, a couple dogs, a few guinea pigs, hamsters, a bunny, and numerous fishies (not all at the same time, though). I grew up in a large family so nothing really surprises me anymore and chaos is actually better for me.

        The title of this blog is “My Eyes Are Watching Life”, and for those of you who know me you know I adore literature. I was introduced to Zora Neale Hurston’s novel, “Their Eyes Were Watching God”, my Senior year of high school in AP English and it opened my own eyes about love, life, women (and men), God, and literature. I figured as Hurston had Janie’s life followed through her own life’s ups and downs, I could follow my own.
        Life is fantastic. It is beautiful. It has it’s ups and downs, but it is ever exciting! With the recent changes in my life (getting married is one, which was the best decision of my life!), I figured I could start a new hobby/habit/writing adventure. Changes equal new chapters.
This blog isn’t focusing on just one thing. It will encompass anything. Because life isn’t just one thing....that’d be incredibly dull. Can you imagine such a life? What if it focused on....a chair. And not the fancy kind. Well, okay, let’s make it fancy because that’d be less boring. An ornate chair, with the swirls and whorls and gold etchings with bronze and silver details.....pretty, but if that is all you focus on you’ll eventually get bored and wonder why you are even living. Mmhmmm, this blog will be a mess of features.
Ready? Because I am.