Happiness

This is Declan, becoming Batman. This is me, becoming a Writer. Step 1 : Discover that you are a Writer This all started when I picked up Martha Beck's book Finding Your North Star. I'm almost done with it so it makes sense that I would find out what I was always meant to do. I have been a Piano Teacher, a 3rd Grade Teacher, a Substitute Teacher, an Essential Oils Educator and now I have discovered that my true JOY in life is writing. If that is the case, money, friends, events and life will all come because they follow JOY. This is what I was meant to do in life. If your deep JOY meets the world's deep NEED, then that is your passion. Step 2 : Write. Open your laptop, tablet, desktop or even your phone and write. Put down what it is you have in your heart. Lay it out there and see what happens. Step 3 : Share your writing. See how it effects people. See what happens. Good luck! You're Welcome!

This post is one that I found in my drafts section. It's an oldie but goodie. My First High School Crush There would be a few of them, but Gilbert was my first. He played the clarinet in the High School Band. I played the clarinet in the High School Band and we hit it off swimmingly. The first week of August was band camp- a hot, long, deathly torture of a week where we marched our positions in our field show over and over again in the hot desert heat. I got heat stroke and almost passed out a few times in the desert of California. It was during that week, that hell week for band-os that I began to know the boy who would be my best friend that year. He was Philipino- new and different- not like the white Mormon boys I had known before. He was Catholic and we had great gospel conversations in crowded band buses on the way to competitions. Everyone knew I liked him, was head over heels for him and yet, we never talked about it. Winter came and marching band transformed t...

Some people have a way with words. They are writers. They know how to captivate their audience- how to grab them, pull them in and keep them there, glued to their screens or books, until they release them to come for a breath of fresh air and a sigh of contentment. Like a wonderful, crispy, chewy chocolate chip cookie whose first bite has gotten your attention and whose last bite leaves you wanting more. I know that these writers follow a recipe to make their writing good as well adding a bit of natural talent as well. Oh, how I want to be a good writer. Not to really tell a good story but to be able to express my thoughts clearly and distinctly and leave the reader yearning for just one more bite.

I've wanted to be a writer for about ten years now. After I had three kids under three years old and all that that entailed, I felt like I should write everything down, let people know what that was like. It seemed a good way to get everything out of my head and on to the paper. I would write short stories- the time when the twins emptied the eggs out of the carton in a trail across the floor while I showered, the time it took 2 hours to put them down for a twenty minute nap, the time Ethan broke his leg with a toddler fracture and I had to carry him while carrying the baby in a baby backpack. Ah, those were the days !  Yep, these were stories that needed to heard and felt. Yet, instead of writing a book, I wrote it down in this blog. I vented my frustration when the kids were tiny, I was silent in midst of my depression, I was chatty while I was hyper, subdued when we lost our two babies and exultant when we had Declan. This blog has seen it all and while I haven...

The shooting in Connecticut happened almost a  week ago. I was subbing that day and being isolated in my little classroom I had heard nothing until Josh told me about it over the phone when I got home at 3 pm. I was devastated and cried in my room while my kiddos had their after school snack in the kitchen. It was too close to home for me- having spent the whole day at the school/having a 1st grader/knowing loss before and knowing how precious life really is. A few people shared some things online that really helped me, as did prayer and an understanding of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that He lives. He loves me. He loves us. He knows what is going on and He is here for us no matter what. And that comforts me. It truly does. I tried to write something about this on Sunday, but I had nothing. Nothing left to give. I was in mourning. I still am a little. But writing makes it just a teensiest better. In fact, a good measure better. Nothing Left to Give I have nothing ...

Liz Lemon Swindle Art Work at the Mesa Temple You have to excuse me for posting on here so much lately. You see, the mornings have been still and quiet, the dryer whirring in the background, lending the perfect atmosphere to a little bit of writing. And today I've been thinking about Faith. (If you feel like skipping this bit of wordage, please feel free.) And how we have to put ourselves into action to produce the kind of Faith that works wonders. That works Miracles actually. There are so many great examples in the scriptures of people who had GREAT faith- Noah and his arc building goodness, Moses and his willingness to give up a comfortable, stable life and lead his people to freedom, Abraham's faith to do whatever was needed to be done, Joseph Smith who time and time again choose goodness instead of hate, my Mother who was baptized and left her beautiful land in the East to come to the West and be with the Saints there, my Husband, who chose to marry me instead of run off i...

I stood with a cold can of Hansen's soda in my hand, wanting it, hoping for it. It hit 102 an hour before at 8 am and yesterday the Valley had seen a record High of 117. All I needed was a cold drink. And all I had was a dollar. That's it. I had no idea how much the soda cost but I hoped that a dollar would be enough. I stood in line, a crumpled dollar in one hand, a cold soda in the other. The cashier at the end of the line told me that I had exactly enough. Phew! I purchased the soda and moved on with my day- driving through construction, ready to unpack some of the last remaining boxes from our latest move. While maneuvering between the orange cones and slow traffic, I wondered. What if the price of the soda was exactly what each person had? What if someone had a twenty dollar bill and really wanted that soda, just like me, and the cashier said "The price is exactly what you have."? What if someone had a quarter and again, that's how much the soda was? And I th...

to tell your hubby that you are expecting? I have a black onyx statue of a Mother and a Baby. I got this at Christmas time the first year I was married. We were married in August of that year and we weren't even trying for a baby. Ok. So maybe we were, but we hadn't told anyone, let alone our Parents. I opened the gift from my Mother and what was it? A Mother and Baby statue. I was touched. It was a little bold, but sweet in thought. Twelve days later we found out that we were expecting our first little one, due in September. Maybe my Mother knew what she was doing. Now we use the statue as a sign that I am expecting. The statue has appeared on the coffee table (Elizabeth), in a diaper bag (Ethan and Jonah), in an e-mail (Joseph Asher), in the front foyer (our Angel Rose) and as Josh's desktop background (another sweet angel). Where will it show up next? This is my blog. My name is Megan Abbott. ***I know that I have posted about this before, but it's been awhile, so I...

Josh, me and our four kids- almost nine years later! Nine years ago, in 2001, I had been off my mission for about ten months and was seriously dating a wonderful guy named Joshua Abbott. Ok, so yes, I did marry him, but pretend you don't know that yet. Josh had a roommate named Court and one day Court came into my apartment to visit with us and show us the ring he had just gotten for his girlfriend. These were the college days and everyone was getting married left and right (especially at BYU) so we were not surprised to find out that Court was planning to propose. He showed us the ring and right away I said "I love it!' The funny thing about that ring was that it was a $9 fake diamond ring he had bought at Wal-mart. I guess he didn't really know what she wanted, so he got a place holder ring. As it turned out, they got engaged and then broke it off and the ring was returned. Josh had finally decided to propose (after 4 months!) and asked his roomie for the ring as he ...

The Journey, by David Whyte Above the mountains the geese turn into the light again painting their black silhouettes on an open sky. Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that first, bright and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. Sometimes with the bones of the black sticks left when the fire has gone out someone has written something new in the ashes of your life. You are not leaving. Even as the light fades quickly. You are arriving. I love this poem. Ever since I was 14 or 15 I 've written poetry. I love it. It's like opening a shut window of your soul and letting everything out. After watching American Idol last night and seeing how each singer has been singing since they were little, I asked myself what have I done since I was younger? I have written. Stories. Poetry. And now- blogs. I am a writer. And proud of it. This is my blog. My name i...

Sunday. March 8th. 2009. I went online and enjoyed reading other's blogs today. Your blogs have sparked a creative fire in me- a warm glow of desire. The desire to write. Where better to write than in an on-line journal, only available to my close friends and family, on a private blog? So, hence the name change. No longer is this blog entitled "Pink Panda" after my favorite color and animal. It is now entitled "Happiness" and through the title change and content change, I hope to learn how to write. Let me know of any errors in grammar, punctuation, format, etc. that you find in the body of my work. I have a Bachelors Degree from BYU in Elementary Ed., but they sure didn't teach me the fine art of grammar- as you can plainly see. So, break out those old, dusty files in your head labeled "grammar" dated from one, five, ten, fifteen or even twenty or thirty years ago, and help edit my writing. I will be writing in this blog every night as part of a b...

Josh and I went out to eat and to a concert at the Visitor's Center for my birthday last Friday. Here is the temple, with the lights around it. Here is me. Josh doesn't like his picture being taken! Last night Josh and I celebrated my birthday a little early by opening gifts. I'll tell about those a little later- which were amazing by the way- but I wanted to write about this morning. After a nice evening I woke from a scary dream and within five minutes Jonah was crying with a bloody nose and Elizabeth was crying from a nightmare also. Phew, what a morning! Some mornings are just like that. You have to grit your teeth and bear it. Usually the afternoon is better. I hope so! I've decided that writing is soothing to me. It's one of those "self-nurturing" things people do, like taking a bath or walking on the beach. When I was depressed I gave up writing- in my journal and on this blog. Now that my chemicals are more in balance, I remember why I even started...