An Introduction

This undertaking of mine if far overdue. For the past year, I have felt impressed to begin detailing my experiences on a blog. No matter how avid my journaling habits, my words are no good sitting idly between pages only opened by me. As my resolve to start blogging solidified, so did two self-imposed roadblocks. I wish to elaborate on the mindsets that held me back for so long and how eventually they became my inspiration. First, I held to the impression that blogging was quintessential act of trendy teenage white girls. And as much as I embody the classic white girl, I didn't want my writing to. For me, blogging is an opportunity to pursue my interest in writing while recording experiences that might help people. Rather than an elaborate recap of my latest manicure or home-decorating revelation, I wanted share the insight and beauty that I've come to see saturates everyday life. But instead of trying to tackle all that, I did nothing. I let my attempt to defy the status quo lead to idleness.

Eventually, however, I accepted that my defiance was accomplishing a grand nothing. If blogging was something I wanted to do, why should I let a social stigma stop me? Maybe my identity as the archetype of a Utah white girl had potential. Maybe I could try and show that we are not just the products of our parent's religion as many wish to label us. I too had ideas and treasures I saw to be worth sharing.

With that last thought came the second roadblock: You are an 18 year old from a small town in Northern Utah, what could you possibly offer? I let famous quotations like, "How vain it is to sit down and write when you have not stood up to live," lull me into imagined security; I would write once I had things worth writing about. I would hold off a few more years until I had more life under my belt. That perspective crumbled during a session of Religion in Life at the Logan Institute. The speaker, I don't even remember who it was, challenged us to not diminish our potential for good on the basis of age. Give yourself a bit more credit.The Prophet Joseph Smith had a voice at fourteen. Captain Moroni lead an army at twenty-five. Benjamin Franklin wrote the Silence Dogood letters at fifteen. Alexander Hamilton published revolutionary political articles at seventeen. See where I'm going with this?

I openly and willingly acknowledge I'm not Captain Moroni or Benjamin Franklin material, but I do feel I have something to offer. My thoughts turn to my friends about to graduate high school. To my younger cousins and neighbor girls. To the wandering freshman I spent the past year with. To my future family. And of course to my five siblings. Perhaps some of my navigation notes can make their sailings a little smoother. Hence my theme for this blog: "Life must be understood backward. But...it must be lived forward." This comes from Christian philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, but I heard in an April 2016 conference talk. I hope that as I examine my 'backward' it will propel me into a more constructive, happy 'forward'. And anyone else who is in for the ride :)

For the first little while I am going to need to play catch-up. My first year away at school brought with it an ocean of new and a treasure chest of firsts. I want to remember every detail, good and scary, about my dorky freshman year self. There were too many golden days, crucial nights, and olive tree moments (I'll explain later) to simply gloss over it all. And besides, hindsight always provides the clearest lens on life. I will use journal entries, pictures, travel diaries--anything to keep this real. Authentic, genuine, raw; that is the goal. Yay :) Let's go :)