New Year, New Me, New Year's Resolutions

I know people only keep their resolutions for like two days, but I still make them every year anyhow. Our family went to see Avatar today at the IMAX in 3D (amazing, by the way), and my marathon-runner brother-in-law, Jason, was commenting (while we were waiting in line for an hour before they let us go into the theatre) on how much he adores running the first couple days of January, because the streets and sidewalks are chalk-full of those who have resolved to get into shape and jog. Every year, however, by January 3, the streets are all but empty of the joggers.

Well, dear readers, I don't want to be like those January 3 joggers . . .

Since my childhood, I have been obsessed with making checklists. I get such a thrill when I can check things off of them, and I adore reviewing checklists from years past, to see what I've accomplished, areas in which I've been remiss, etc. I even enjoy making grocery lists, just because I so love checking the acquired items off said lists. Yes, it's the small things which give me a thrill. I'm going to publish this year's list and then I'm going to review it in December, to see how well I did. Plus, publishing my list makes me accountable, because I'll have to periodically report my progress. Where there are expectations, there are goals, where there are goals, there is often success. So, yeah, I'm a fan of making (and striving to keep!) New Year's resolutions.

1. Get a job.
I quit my amazing, wonderful, incredible job at Snell & Wilmer in order to move to Mexico with he who shall remain nameless in May of 2009. Unfortunately, neither Snell nor any other law firm in Phoenix is hiring legal secretaries. I would know, I've been applying/searching for jobs since mid-October. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with my future employment-wise. Banking? Air Traffic Control (ATC)? Stick to legal? I know I want something in Phoenix, because I hate commuting, and I have no plans to move--unless, of course, I go for ATC. I also know I want to work regular business hours, so that if, perchance, I'm blessed with the opportunity to ever date again, I can do so on weekends, as is the tradition when dating--unless, of course, I opt to do ATC. I'm fluent in Spanish, I have a BA, I'm good with people, I type 100 wpm. So what do you think? Any connections? Where should I apply? I want a career, I want upward mobility, I want financial stability, I want full benefits, I want vacation time, I want what every other unemployed American is currently seeking. Go figure.

2. Take piano lessons.

One of my best friends, Liz, has inspired me to again take up piano lessons. She's a virtuoso and is gearing up to get her master's in music. She talked to me the other day about taking lessons at her old studio, right down the street from my house. I would love to take one 30-minute piano lesson every week. So I'm going to! Once I have a job, of course, and am able to therefore afford to pay for the piano lessons. I used to practice the piano every single day, throughout all of high school and college--took private lessons, participated in two recitals per year at BYU. Since graduating, though, I'm afraid I've let my talents fall by the wayside. I look at my old recital pieces and I'm so upset with myself because I can no longer play them (honestly, I became fairly accomplished). Like all things in life, however, if you don't use it, you lose it! This year, I'm going to fall in love once again with practicing the piano. My shiny black upright has missed me dearly. It's time I give him some attention once again.

3. Keep the weight off.

The best thing about having one's heart broken, is that one loses lots of weight in the aftermath. I've lost 13 pounds and counting, and now fit into my old size 27 and even size 26 (holler!) jeans (as in the jeans I wore when I worked at Nordstrom and was climbing stairs for literally 8 hours a day, burning calories like mad, the same jeans I saved only to torture myself with how skinny I was when I was 25 years old, back before my metabolism decided to act its age). In a journal entry written in 2007, I wrote down that my goal weight was what I currently weigh; I even weigh less than the weight stated on my driver's license, which was totally a lie when it was issued back in May, you know, a "This is what I will weigh in the very near future" weight, so I didn't feel at all guilty about shaving off five or six pounds from my then-actual weight for my new driver's license (can't wait to get another one come March, because I so love frequenting government-run offices. I love, for example, the MVD! Love the Social Security Administration! Love changing my passport! Non-government agency bonus: can't wait to change my name on all my bank accounts and checks! Good times. No, great times.). So good for me. It took like three years, but better late than never. Divorce, it does a body good. (Hey, we're accentuating the positive here, new year, only good things! And hopefully sooner rather than later, the positivity will be served sans sarcasm since, let's be honest, sarcasm is never a positive thing. Baby steps.)

Okay, I know I just wrote that we're accentuating the positive, but just the same I'm following up with some bad news: none of my fabulous jeans purchased since 2006 (all of which are super cute and amazing) fit me--I mean, they fit, they just fall off of me, and never need to be unbuttoned to be pulled on and off, and sag like mad all over the place. Do I get them altered? Seriously, who knew a few pounds makes such a huge difference in clothing size?

Anyhow, as we women well-know, it's easier said than done to keep the weight off. Especially when your body was so used to weighing ten pounds more for so long. So how do I plan to keep the weight off? Let's assess the changes I've made which I must continue to embrace.

(1) Water is my beverage of choice (save at the movie theater, where I always order 3/4 diet, caffeine-free coke with 1/4 cherry coke so it tastes yummy, which is a shame since I've all but cut caffeine completely out of my diet; Diet Caffeine Free Dr. Pepper is AMAZING, by the way);

(2) Angel gets two LONG walks every day (sometimes I have to literally carry her home because she's too tuckered out from our adventures, poor little eight-pound dear);

(3) Every Saturday morning Brooktynn and I walk the canal all the way to Scottsdale Fashion Square (I relish my time with Brooktynn, she's my brilliant attorney friend, with whom I went to the Dominican Republic, who's so gorgeous she served the Temple Square mission, where, as we all know, only the most lovely sisters are sent; sorry, any single male readers, there's a ring on it);

(4) A HUGE blessing to being unemployed? I cannot afford to eat out with girlfriends (always with desserts, of course) as I did when I was single and gainfully employed in the past, so I'm no longer eating lots of delicious garbage from CPK, The Cheesecake Factory, Paradise Bakery, pretty much all the yummy places at Biltmore. I really think this was the biggest issue with putting on ten pounds after I quit my job at Nordstrom. I kept eating the same crap as before (Kona Grill, Z-Tejas, the Yardhouse, you know, all Scottsdale Fashion Square's restaurant food), but I was no longer exercising all day long. Now I eat at home, and make sure my fridge is always stocked with snap peas and sweet peppers from Costco, perfect for snacking while I read my books, watch my BBC movies, or play Pinochle on yahoo.com (the best is when Colter plays with me from Orem!); added bonus? not eating out is going to save me beaucoup bucks; and

(5) I'm on a better sleep schedule, up every morning at 8:30 (which, if you know me at all, you know this is a feat, since my circadian rhythms are definitely not set to awaken me before double-digits on the clock), so I'm more tired at night and thus refrain from snacking on delicious, salty garbage (I'm not at all into sweets, I'm a salty gal: chips, cheese and sunflower seeds are my weaknesses) until 1 or 2 a.m. Sometimes I even get up at 7:30 a.m.! You'd have to see it to believe it, I know. Emma can vouch for me, because I call her some mornings when I'm on walks with Angel.

So these are my main new year's resolutions: get a job, take piano lessons, maintain my current weight (by the way, I'm such a sucker, guys, I totally want the Reebok Easytones, darn those commercials touting 22% better gluteus maximus muscle activation--does anybody know if they actually work?).

Other resolutions are always the same, every blessed year:

read scriptures every day (is it cheating if I count reading the Ensign some nights?),

be prepared to participate and discuss the lesson in Gospel Doctrine every Sunday,

quit biting my finger nails (I do so well, and then I get super stressed and all of a sudden, they're all gone again, grrrrr, so disgusting, I know, sick, what grown up still bites her finger nails?! They're positively ghastly right now, so I'll have to go get the Kiss artificial nails at Walgreens to glue on before any job interviews, so I look like I'm a together, mature adult. Honestly. Self-control, Whitney! Carrie told me about this puke-flavored nail polish or something that parents buy their small children to kick their habit of nail biting. It worked on Parker when he used to suck his thumb. I'm going to give it a go and see how it works; I'll keep you posted.),

grow out my hair so it's long and luscious (I know, I know, I've been trying this one for four years, we'll see if this is the year it actually sticks; it's a shame, really, because my hair is actually super cute when it's stacked and short, as in strangers compliment me on it--all women, of course--but I know that 97.8% of men prefer women with long hair, and with two failed marriages in my closet (that's beyond embarrassing . . . it's terribly sad), I need all the help I can get in attracting the opposite sex when my last name is again restored to my maiden name come March. The long hair thing, by the way, is much to the chagrin of my mother, who prefers my hair in a blonde bob; sorry Mom, I'm going to try to grow it out long, even though it's KILLING me having it at this horrid in between stage),

read more literature so I can be more like my amazingly well-read mother, and

write more letters to my congress people (since it does no good to read the WSJ and listen to NPR and then complain to family and friends about how outraged I am with this or that, it's best to voice my views to those who actually make the laws: look up the contact information for your senators and representatives at http://www.congress.org/; you'll need your full nine-digit zip code, p.s.). By the way, has anybody yet read Ron Paul's End the Fed? Just wondering . . .

Finally, and most importantly, my ultimate goal is to

4. Have an attitude of gratitude every day, in all that I do.

Thank you, Nancy, for sharing with me the Optimist Creed. It perfectly sums up my number 4:

The Optimist Creed

The following version, without the title "The Optimist Creed," is quoted from Science of Mind 71 (June 1998): 50.

Promise Yourself

To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.

To talk health, happiness, and prosperity to every person you meet.

To make all your friends feel that there is something worthwhile in them.

To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.

To think only of the best, to work only for the best and to expect only the best.

To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.

To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.

To wear a cheerful expression at all times and give a smile to every living creature you meet.

To give so much time to improving yourself that you have no time to criticize others.

To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud word, but in great deeds.

To live in the faith that the whole world is on your side, so long as you are true to the best that is in you.

I've never read or watched The Secret, and I don't believe in karma, but I do believe that we are champions of ourselves, and that Charles R. Swindoll said something very wise back in the day about attitude (I wish I had the actual reference; I briefly searched for it, but to no avail). So I'll close this entry with Chuck's words of wisdom:

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.”

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO MY FAMILY, FRIENDS & LOVED ONES.

Your continued support, prayers and love mean the world to me. I'm thankful for you.

P.S.

I hate posts without pictures. I haven't taken any pictures, though, since the Kelly Clarkson concert back in November. I'll be better, and I'll start snapping shots of this or that to jazz up my boring blog a bit.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

The end of 2009 brings with it the closing of a decade of learning experiences. Having been born in 1980, my twenties perfectly coincide with this past decade, and I believe that my twenties provided me with a lifetime of learning. I'm hoping that this next decade, i.e., my thirties, will be happier than my turbulent twenties. I hope to use the wisdom I've had to gain first-hand to begin anew in 2010, as I usher in my thirties. I've found myself of late repeating over and over again the words of John Greenleaf Whittier: "Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: 'It might have been!'" And while these words are very apropos at the moment, I'm also reminded of the following phrase: "This too shall pass." And the words of my mother's father, my Grandpa, that "[t]here's nothing like the next one to get you over the last one!"

I know that we each pass through countless trials in this mortal experience, as we learn to continually hold fast to the iron rod, even though we're surrounded by mists of darkness. The key is to not lose sight of our goal: eternal life with our families to whom we are sealed, living together in the presence of He who created us. I know that we each chose to come down here in the flesh in order to be tested and tried, that we may choose liberty (eternal life) over death (captivity). We chose free agency over a free pass in the preexistence, even though we knew the pains and agonies we would encounter and endure would be great. But is anything of value easily obtained? Do we appreciate anything which comes easily and without sacrifice, endurance, diligence, and constancy? Can we truly appreciate life's beautiful experiences without having also experienced life's hardships and duress?

I know that it is through life's many trials that we are refined, made stronger, purged of our impurities. I've often said that I would never trade my trials for anybody else's, for I know that I can handle my own burdens, but I do not know that I could endure my neighbor's.

The first decade of the 21st century brought with it many beautiful things to me and my family: three nieces, two nephews, my graduation from BYU in 2002, exciting trips to Europe and Latin America, and my gorgeous shih-tzu, Angel, my constant companion these past three years. It also brought with it the amazing opportunity to purchase and sell my first home, thus affording me the opportunity to pay cash for my current home (I was one of the lucky ones who bought and sold at exactly the right times). I'm blessed beyond measure to be in excellent health, completely debt-free and educated. And I couldn't ask for a more supportive, righteous, wonderful family, all of whom (of my immediate family) live right here in Phoenix. No, I'm not blind to my many blessings, my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, citizenship in the greatest country in the world, my true friends who have stood beside me and, when necessary, behind me to buoy me and lift my spirits when I've passed through my most difficult trials.

Unfortunately, my twenties also brought with them many learning experiences, which is to say many opportunities to be humbled by the refiner's fire. Who would have thought when I was graduating as valedictorian of my high school class in 1998, going to BYU on an academic scholarship, that I would end up twice divorced, and lose one-fifth of my immediate family to untimely death by 2009? I have been humbled beyond measure, I have learned first-hand of the power of the Atonement of Christ to comfort me when I am in need of more comfort than can be obtained from family or friends. I have turned to prayer, to scripture study (both modern and ancient), and to faith, for it is faith that replaces our fear of failure.

My husband filed for divorce on December 24, 2009, Christmas Eve, the one-year anniversary of our engagement. What a dichotomy these two Christmases presented: the former such great, incredible joy, the latter such profound disappointment. While I'm yet in the storm of divorce, I know that this too shall pass. I know that this trial, like the trial of my first marriage and subsequent divorce and the trial of losing my brother to a pulmonary embolism when he was only 34, will make me a stronger, more resolute, more service-oriented follower of Christ. For it has been said that adversity is the refiner's fire that bends iron, but tempers steel (James E. Faust). Because of my most recent heartache, I will be even more empathetic to those who pass through hardship and disappointment, a woman with greater wisdom and understanding as a result of the trials I endured while in my twenties.

There is a proverb which states that a wise man learns from the mistakes of others, a fool by his own. I am afraid that I am not yet a wise woman, for even still I have need to learn from my own mistakes. I am humiliated to have chosen twice to marry men who did not honor our temple covenants, who did not view marriage as eternal and sacred as do I. I am not without fault, I am not perfect, but I strive toward righteousness and I yearn for exaltation. I forgive them both, and I wish them happiness in the paths they have chosen to walk without me by their sides. There are yet great things awaiting me, if I but continue to hold fast to those things which I know to be true and of an eternal nature.

I've learned great lessons from life's adventures over the past decade. In family, I've learned how lost I would be without the knowledge of eternal families, eternal life, and the sealing ordinances of the Priesthood, by which that which is bound on earth is bound in heaven. There is no greater comfort than this knowledge: that my family, though separated by the veil from my brother at present, will be reunited and whole again at the end of this mortal sojourn if we but continually hold fast and endure to the end.

I've also learned lessons regarding the selection of an eternal companion. I will not discuss these lessons, as they're very personal to me. Perhaps in mortality I will not be blessed with another opportunity to marry. Perhaps I have squandered both my chances in being too naive and in confusing incredible courtships with love. But I will say this: it is better to be captain of one's self and single, than to be married to one who does not view temple marriage as a sacred covenant. The sorrow in divorce for me isn't in the loss of one's companion (for who would want to be married to one who chooses not to love or respect you anyhow?), but the sorrow is in the loss of the dream of what might have, nay, what should have been. The sorrow is in knowing that you, because of your broken sacred marriage, have let down and disappointed your Father in Heaven. The sorrow is in coming to grips with the fact that you cannot make choices for another, for we each have our free agency, and you cannot change a person's mind for him as to whether or not he should love you. The sorrow is in having to overcome the humiliation of having yet another failed marriage under your young, 29-year-old belt. The sorrow is in knowing that the most important decision we make in this life, i.e., the decision of whom we are sealed to, I made incorrectly not one time, but two. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

Yes, I learned lessons. Painful lessons. But lessons just the same. And it is thus that we are able to learn the principles that govern this world and the standards of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is thus that we learn wisdom beyond our years. It is thus that we are refined, and made worthy to take part of the Atonement of Christ so that when we are resurrected, we will be worthy to stand side-by-side with those who have gone before us, who have passed through more trials than any of us will ever experience.

Indeed, my twenties were for learning from my own mistakes, and for learning from those things which weren't mistakes at all, but inevitabilities of mortality, i.e., death. So here's to the dawning of a new decade. Here's to lessons learned from the past, to happiness and health for the present, and to the wisdom to make better decisions today and tomorrow. Here's to not relying on a time table for when I should have been married, when I should have had babies, when I should have done this or that. Here's to faith replacing fear, here's to finding happiness in serving others, here's to focusing on our blessings and replacing our anguish with an attitude of gratitude. Here's to no longer repeating over and over again, "It might have been!"

I'm grateful for the United States of America, for the freedoms we experience in this great, blessed land. I'm grateful for my eternal family. I'm grateful for my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know that we are led today by a true and living Prophet, President Thomas Monson. I know that it is through scripture study that we are made stronger and more able to bear this life's turbulence. I know that this life is a period of preparation, and that our trials bless us in bringing us closer to our goal of perfection, because it is through our trials that we are humbled and brought down upon our knees in order to receive strength from Heavenly Father to endure. And I know that as we endure life's lessons we are refined, and made stronger, akin to steel which has passed through the refiner's fire. I know that without the bad, we would not taste the good, for we wouldn't recognize the difference.

And thus ends 2009. Welcome, 2010. I do not regret the past decade, for I learned much wisdom. My prayer is that I can use said wisdom to make for a brighter, more successful, happier decade to come. After all, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.