A Paralysis of Paper

I have a bookshelf. I also have a lot of books. I also have lots of binders and folders and files with papers in them. During my culling of my closet, I also had a go at the bookshelves and ended up with one of these:

A box o' books for my favorite Julia who lives in Georgia.

I sent these to a girl who will probably have devoured these by now. Oddly enough, even after doing this, I still had no room in my bookcase. So I had another go at the bookshelves, attacking the worst of the offenders: papers...

PAPERSSSZZZ!!!!garbleblarghyblargh....

Fitting In With The EMZ Crew

So, I do Zumba now.

Early Morning Zumba, also known as EMZ, is exactly what it says on the tin. We meet at 5:30 a.m. five days a week. This makes it convenient for those of us who have to work. It's also a completely free community service offered to whoever wants to show up. Sinai Pauni founded EMZ back in 2010 as a way to practice teaching Zumba. It eventually evolved into the community it has now. None of the instructors are paid to come every morning, set up the music, and provide an entertaining workout for the day. EMZ has attracted lots of faithful followers who have just as much enthusiasm for the program as the instructors.

I'm the one with the Batgirl shirt.

I started attending EMZ about a week or so after I came home from my mission. I needed something to keep me on a schedule. Apparently waking up at 5, much earlier than I ever did on my mission, was exactly that thing. As an added bonus, I am losing weight, feeling healthier, and experiencing more energy than ever before. Exercise does tend to do that to you.

But some days I just really don't want to go to Zumba. And yet I go.

I don't really know why. I remember one morning getting out of bed and feeling so physically tired that I felt sick and unable to move my body. But I went anyway. Other mornings, sleep just feels so darn good and I do not want to get out of my warm, snuggly bed. But when my alarm goes off, and then the snooze alarm finally wakes me up, I get dressed and head out the door.

When first started going to Zumba, I felt out of place and self conscious as a white newcomer among a veteran crowd of women, at least half of whom are Polynesian, the other half Hispanic. I knew everyone would judge my dancing and ability to follow the instructors, which I messed up on a lot. Finding a place on the gym floor that no one had claimed proved doable, but somewhat difficult. I eventually settled at the middle of the free throw line on the right side of the gym.

What really set them apart from me and my family, though, didn't have anything to do with skin tone or cultural background. A culture had developed in those years before I started attending -- one where everyone came to class with an enthusiasm I just don't understand. They shout along with the songs, run up to the stage to participate with the instructors, and several come wearing matching shirts, costumes, or accessories. In short, they are just so freaking happy and I don't get it.

We didn't plan this.

Slowly, I'm coming to have more fun with going to Zumba. I haven't made any friends there yet, but I now go on stage when the instructors ask me to participate. I even jump into group pictures and wore a costume to the Halloween party. (Shoulder Angel from Studio C.) I'm still not as crazy as all the other attendees and volunteers, and I probably never will be. I don't feel the need to document my exercising with photos and videos that I immediately post on Facebook. But I also don't mind trying to have fun while I'm attempting to move my hips as fluidly as Sinai does.

I would liken this to coming to church every Sunday, and even beginning a habit of church attendance for new converts. It's weird walking into a new group of people that you don't know, but you intend to get to know. It will be impossible to just jump in like you know what you're doing already and not make mistakes. The only way to learn the rules to the established culture is to keep exposing yourself to them. That means you have to keep coming, even on those days that you really don't want to be there. Those days suck, but you have to push through it to get the real payoff that comes weeks later.

It's the happiness. Why are those Mormons, and the EMZ crew, so freaking happy? The same reason: Living the gospel brings true joy. Whether it's keeping the Sabbath day holy or living the Word of Wisdom, consistently working towards true principles brings lasting happiness, more than anything else that gives instant, fleeting gratification.

Wait, going to Zumba is part of the gospel? In Doctrine and Covenants 130: 20-21, it's explained that, "There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated -- And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated." Taking care of our bodies is a commandment from God. So [regular attendance to EMZ]+[consuming healthy food]=Blessings!

If you'd like to join us early in the morning, Monday through Friday, EMZ meets at the Stake Center at 961 W Fremont Ave. (1122 South), Salt Lake City, UT 84104.

And remember: For an easier time getting up in the morning, do not argue with the alarm clock. Snooze buttons kill.

K Thnks; Gimme

This year, I celebrated my first Thanksgiving home with my family. More importantly, I also celebrated my first time ever getting involved in Black Friday first hand in retail. I must say, I enjoyed the experience.

The Greatest Place on Earth

I began working at Deseret Book at the start of November, and for someone who just got home from her mission, it is the best ever job an RM could have ever. Not only am I working and on a regular schedule, but I'm also surrounded by the words of prophets, Apostles, great teachers, and fantastic authors, as well as Lion House rolls. Who wouldn't want to buy the entire store? My first book was The Continuous Atonement by Brad Wilcox. Please imagine me skipping home with joy to show off my new find.

We, of course, have customers that feel the same. With products that uplift and enrich, who wouldn't feel the Spirit in our store?

With Black Friday looming in the near future earlier this week, I pondered on what our crowds would be like. I would be working from 7:30 to 3 that day, meaning I would have to sell our Doorbusters. Such amazing prices, such amazing products -- would there be a line at our doors before I even got to work? Would there be people fighting over the last copy of Reedeemer before the $9.99 price ended at noon? Would I have customers yelling at me because we ran out of Shadow Box Advent Calendars again?

Nope, nope, nope, and we didn't run out of anything important. Sure it was busy, but I had more fun working on Black Friday than I did trying to shop later that day.

Now, apart from our store being smaller than Walmart, I think the lack of insanity had to do with our most unique feature. This store is one of the few that has the Spirit in it. I don't just feel happy every day working at Deseret Book because I'm helping customers find products that they love. The greatest joy I feel is when I hear, "Can you help me find a gift for a [pick an age]-year-old who is getting baptized this weekend?" or, "I need a book that can help me understand the Book of Mormon." Our products aren't just about worldly happiness; they're about spiritual happiness and fulfillment.

Pictured: Not Deseret Book

Despite the true happiness that can be found here, I have no doubt that most people swarmed Walmart and Macy's on Black Friday, desperately searching for the scraps of temporary happiness found in getting a great deal on a TV or a pile of Christmas gifts. Maybe they don't know about Deseret Book. Maybe they love that rush of excitement over lasting peace. Maybe the meaning of Thanksgiving is being lost in the madness of ridiculous discounts.

Whatever the reason, I would hope that wherever one goes on Black Friday, they would not forget to be grateful for what they already have, even if they're shopping for more things for themselves or others.

And remember: One of the love languages is receiving or giving gifts. Don't feel bad if that's one of your favorite ways to show love. It's my favorite too.

A Closet Full of Clothes

I heard lots of things about what I would experience coming home from my mission.

• I would get depressed because as a Returned Missionary, people wouldn't treat me special like when I had that missionary tag on my shoulder.
• I wouldn't know what to do with myself, especially without a companion and a schedule.
• I would have a hard time adjusting to all the new media I would now be allowed to listen to. (i.e. movies, radio, TV, internet...)

Instead, I just spent six weeks watching entire seasons of The Legend of Korra, Doctor Who, Arrow, and Studio C. If that doesn't say that I know how to get back into my old swing of things, I don't know what does.

Like this, but with more knit sweaters and Batman shirts.

What I did not realize I would have trouble with was my room. I came home with three suitcases and a shoulder bag, all stuffed to the brim with my entire life over the last eighteen months, minus some things I had to leave behind: bath towel, tennis shoes, and a sewing machine among others. When I went to put away my modest supply of clothes that kept me warm for the last year and a half, I met a completely full closet.

I didn't just take a section of my clothes out of my closet to accompany me on my mission. I bought new things before I left so I could be properly attired in my new role as a servant of the Lord. While I spent those eighteen months as a missionary in a completely different area of the country I knew, I added to that wardrobe with some finds at thrift stores and Goodwill. Now, I faced the task of merging the wardrobe that I used to have with the clothes that I was so used to wearing. I seriously feel completely comfortable doing chores and going about town in a skirt and a button-down blouse.

You can have these.

I couldn't put the two together because there was no room for both the old and the new. I tried, but shoving clothes back and forth gets incredibly tiring. So I had to cull my old wardrobe. This shirt was too small; I never wore that skirt anyway; I hate this hoodie so much; why is this blazer even in here? I ended up with several large piles of clothes that I managed to drag all the way to Deseret Industries: Utah's version of Goodwill.

My closet still has way more clothes than a human needs in its lifetime, but all my mission clothes fit. And that's what I wanted. I wanted the me of my mission, as expressed by the clothes I wore, to fit inside the space that represented the rest of me. I can't get rid of my Batman shirts, or the somewhat faded spandex Japanese color-fest shirt, or the hoodies that represent the organizations I once belonged to. That was me before my mission, and that will be me for a long time coming. But I spent eighteen months getting rid of the parts of me that I don't like. It only fits that I would do the same with my clothes. Not that any of my old clothes were bad; they were just worn out and not as good as some of my new wardrobe.

One of the piles of old clothes that I want to get rid of is this habit of wasting an entire days just watching Youtube videos, entire seasons of a TV show in a single day, or whatever I can find on Netflix. I don't want to keep spending all my time playing hidden object games when I could be doing something useful like writing a book or reading my scriptures. In fact, that is another one of my old habits I want to burn with fire: not reading the scriptures like I'm supposed to. I thought that after eighteen months of daily scripture study, this would be the easiest thing to keep doing, but it's not. I've failed so hard at it!

Thankfully, I have just gotten a new job at Deseret Book. Not only is it a great environment to foster my love of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but with a schedule, I will more than likely use my time more effectively. I do intend to get myself back into shape in terms of being productive, because there's nothing more I hate than old!me.

And remind me: I still need to ship Sis. Hillman a fork that I accidentally took home from Waycross, GA.

I Know I Don't Deserve This, But...

There are some days that I really don't deserve the blessings I'm asking for.

Two weeks before I came home, a miracle happened: Rebecca got baptized on September 7th, 2014! That wonderful baptism service did not go off without a hitch, though. The night before she was to be baptized, my companion and I got a call from her saying that the sister who volunteered to give a talk on the Gift of the Holy Ghost had suddenly gotten strep throat and would not make it.

No biggie. I told them I would be glad to give the talk instead.

So the next morning came, as did our regular study time. I had an hour to myself to study for that talk, and I didn't do that. Then we went to church, and I had some downtime before Sacrament Meeting, and I didn't write down any notes at that time either. I think I finally panicked during Relief Society, or in other words, one hour before the baptism.

And so I found myself praying for some help. It went something along the lines of, "Heavenly Father, I know I don't deserve this, but I really want to give a good talk for Rebecca's baptism, and the only way that will happen is with your help. That's the only way I've ever been able to give good talks."

Don't worry; the talk only had to be about five minutes, and I had some good material I stole, uh, borrowed from Preach My Gospel, so it went pretty well. I also know for sure that if I hadn't asked for help, I would have stood up there for five minutes stammering and making a fool of myself.

While we have to do all the work we can in order to get the blessings we most want, ocassionaly God has some mercy on us and forgives our mortal weaknesses. We are His children after all, and I saw for myself that He does want to bless us. I also learned for myself the importance of being prepared and not procrastinating, because I'm pretty sure Heavenly Father isn't going to let me get away with that again.

The Ten Commandments ... And a Few Others

Tithing, Word of Wisdom, Law of Chastity, Praying, Reading... Man, the missionaries sure teach a lot of commandments. Weren't there only supposed to be ten?

Not to worry! We can use the Ten Commandments, and our fingers like Primary Children, to remember them all.

1. No Other Gods

Just the one.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me. -- Exodus 20:3

We are commanded to worship God, our Father in heaven, and no one else. Not our money, not a celebrity, not our jobs. God is our priority. Everything Jesus  Christ did was done to glorify the Father; so it should be for us.

The way we worship god is to pray always to Him. Alma taught, "Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day."

"Those Girls are on Bikes in Dresses!"

Do you ever feel so self conscious and think that everyone thinks you're weird? As a Mormon, you may have experienced this as lots of people think it's funny that we don't drink tea or coffee, wear sleeveless shirts, watch Rated-R movies, or go out to lunch after church. Not to worry, I can help!*

Recently, my companion and I, as well as all other missionaries in my mission, have been instructed to purchase bicycles. And then use them. For Elders, this is all well and good. Everyone is already used to seeing the boys on bikes, dressed in white shirts and ties. What they are not used to seeing is this:

Skirts; they are not conducive to bike riding.

While we may look a tiny bit silly, I have not felt all that weird putting on a helmet and biking around town. I know for a fact that my lovely companion sure has. Sure, we get the occasional snickers and double takes and, "Those girls are on bikes in dresses!" remarks, but I have yet to be embarrassed. Of course, I have not turfed it yet while riding and made a complete fool out of myself. Currently, I am a partial fool. And I'm fine with that.

See, three years ago, I learned a great lesson about reducing your embarrassment. I had found myself able to get two helium filled balloons for free. So, I decided the best use of them would be to carry them around the University of Utah campus while I went to my normal class schedule from 9 to 5 the day before my 22nd birthday. They were lilac and teal and I loved them. Most mature adults don't carry around balloons; more often than not, I sold colorful balloons to small children. Naturally, I should have been shrinking into a ball of embarrassment.

I started my day by stopping at the Union Services Desk and picking up my balloons from my dear friend Kim. Then I took them to American Literature, each of my succeeding classes, and the lunchroom in the Marriott Library. Now while I fully expected many people to ask me, "Why do you have those balloons?" no one actually did until I was standing around in the lunchroom waiting for my pizza to cook. And when I said, "My birthday's tomorrow," he didn't really care. 

I think what made everyone around me act normal was the fact that I acted like it is a completely normal thing to have two balloons tied to your wrist. Maybe they did think I was weird, but I didn't feel like they did.

We can do the same thing in most any other situation. Our confidence is what gives us strength, and if we, "Cast not away therefore [our] confidence, which hath great recompense of reward," we'll be fine. (Hebrews 10:35) In fact, we'll see great results, especially if we keep our confidence in The Lord.

Why does the Lord want to be confident? Because the other option is to be afraid.

Don't do that.

Remember, if you get the high-float, they say the balloons will last longer, but you can't take them outside. That's no fun.

*In the case of legitimate Social Phobia or Anxiety, please see you nearest licensed therapist. LDS Family Services has some good ones.