What I've Learned (Prompt Entry #6)

An Unspoken Hunger was written by none other than the wise Terry Tempest Williams. The last chapter in the book is entitled, Redemption: For Wendell Berry. Williams is driving in the Great Basin in Oregon and sees a coyote. She stops the car and walks toward him. It is a hide hanging on a fence to scare other coyotes from the same fate. She calls it a crucifixion. She takes a minute to reflect on the animals she has seen and is seeing in front of her. Her gaze comes back to the hanging coyote.

"My eyes returned to Jesus Coyote, stiff on his cross, savior of our American rangelands. We can try and kill all that is native, string it up by its hind legs for all to see, but spirit howls and wildness endures. Anticipate resurrection."

I feel this paragraph encapsulates many of my feelings on nature and wilderness after this semester. I am anticipating a resurrection of nature because there has to be one. We have to take care of this world that we live in. We need to be aware of our surroundings, where things come from and our own personal impact on the earth and in society.

I am so grateful to have read the prophetic words of Carson finally. It was time for change back then, so we are all overdue in accepting our calls to action. Edward Abbey's relevantly snarky words are still resonating deep within me. It can be intimidating to think, What can I do? I am just one person. But for me, it is more what can't I do because I am one person. We can all do something big or small it doesn't matter. What matters is that we see through the smog of passivity and ignorance that have been holding us down for too long.

I feel that growing a relationship with my park throughout the semester is what everyone should do with the world. Grow an intimate relationship with the world so that you wouldn't want to see it harmed or taken advantage of. I am so grateful that I was "forced" to spend time in nature this summer.

I don't have all of the answers, but reading the works of a myriad of nature writers affirms to me that I am not alone. It tells me there are answers out there waiting to be found. It tells me that people want to help nature.

I am so grateful for this class. What a great experience I have had. I feel very empowered and motivated to learn more about this world we live in and strive become a personal answer.

Saying Goodbye to My Park (Place Entry #6)

I went to say goodbye to my park today. I guess it's more like a see you later. I still have a week left in Utah and I'm sure I will stop by this park before I go. I see it everyday, even if it's from a distance.

I have a hard time saying goodbye.

I'm walking through my park at 8:30 p.m. It is 86 degrees outside, at least that is what my phone is reporting back to me. It feels cooler than that. This summer hasn't been too hot in Utah. We have yet to reach the 100's which the last few years is unheard of. I am grateful.

I'm walking through patches of dried, hay yellow grass to get to my tree. The grass has been cut from it's roots and left to dry out in the sun. Even though the there are brown patches of deadened grass spotting the park, resembling sand traps on golf courses, the park is surprisingly still green. As I get closer to my tree the faint sounds of crickets becomes loud and surround sound.

I take a seat by my tree and look up at the gray sky. There are hints of pink delicately placed against the back drop. A cool summer breeze is my welcomed guest for the evening. I look across the park to the mountains in the distance. They are so green they appear blue. The brown stoned peaks are finally visible. They have been covered with snow for most of the summer.

This has been a crazy summer. I have learned so much about myself, especially with the alone time I get at my park. I am grateful for my park. I don't want to say goodbye. I don't want to say goodbye to my tree. I don't want to say goodbye to my view of the mountains. I don't want to say goodbye to the dry heat. I don't want to say goodbye the trees I've come to lean on. I don't want to say goodbye. Saying goodbye seems so final. I didn't want to say goodbye to Pittsburgh and so I didn't, I said, see you soon. I will see Pittsburgh soon and I am happy, but there is still a pit in my stomach when I think about saying goodbye to my park.

I have a hard time saying goodbye.

Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, TTW and Me (Prompt #5)

I was able to venture out from Salt Lake City, UT to Brigham City, UT (a little over an hour drive) Saturday, July 23rd. It was a great experience for me, not only because I was able to finally go to the place in which TTW speaks so eloquently of in her book, Refuge, but also because I was able to share this experience with my brother, Cody. Of everyone in my family, he knows me the best. He is my protector. He might not understand why I am the way I am, but he will always love me.

When Cody and I arrived at the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge at 8:30 AM, we both had the same thought--I can't believe that I've driven past this thousands of times and this is the first time I've stopped.

I was definitely more excited about this adventure than Cody was because I had read, Refuge before, but also because Terry Tempest Williams is my hero. Her writing is incredible and the work that she does is admirable to say the very least. I wish to one day learn at her feet, but for today I will learn from her books and visiting a place that means so much to her. Cody enjoyed the birds, but he enjoyed giving them Disney cartoon character voices more. Which was helpful when our tour guides would talk to the one other guest in our group. He was an avid bird watcher. I guess it made sense to them to talk to him more.

I learned a lot on this trip, but the one thing that stood out to me most was that hunting and fishing is allowed on the refuge. The refuge is run by the U.S Fish and Wildlife Services. Not every bird is allowed to be hunted, only ducks, geese, tundra (whistling) swans and pheasants may be hunted and only in certain areas on the refuge. Fishing is allowed, but only in 3 locations. I am sure there is a "reason" or an explanation as to why they would allow hunting and fishing on a refuge, but I will never understand it. It all seems so counterintuitive to me.

As, I ponder this notion I wonder if this is how my family feels about me and my beliefs/actions. Does my family question why I want to write about how to make the Mormon Church better when I don't even attend church. Every time I bring a man home for them to meet, they question my attraction and affection. The other day I had an extended family member tell me that my actions were killing my mother. I wonder if they see my mother as the refuge and me as the hunter. It's just something that would be better if it wasn't around. I clearly have projection issues.

The refuge's co-mingling with the the hunters and fishermen reminded me of our earth. There is so much beauty around us and some things seem so counterintuitive to maintaining that beauty. In fact, sometimes it is plain destructive.

Perhaps I am the hunter or fisher on the refuge because I am out of place in Utah and its Mormon culture often mistaken as Mormon doctrine--especially by its Utah members. I am an outsider wanting to be inside, but only if the rules change not myself.

"What I do know, however, is that as a Mormon woman of the fifth generation of Latter-day Saints, I must question everything, even if it means losing my faith, even if it means becoming a member of a border tribe among my own people. Tolerating blind obedience in the name of patriotism or religion ultimately takes our lives." Terry Tempest Williams, Refuge

Technology Failure#2 (Place #5)

It is Saturday, July 30th. It is 2PM. Why the hell am I walking around this green in the middle, yellow around the edges park at 2PM? (I deserve to die from heat stroke or dehydration.) I am walking around this park because I have to--no, not for this class (although that is true) but because I had to get out that house so I could think. He text me last night.

When did my life become so drama filled?

I didn't get the text until this morning because my phone had died the night before. I couldn't be alone with my thoughts because I was hitting up the Farmer's Market. Plus, I was with Bran and Case and they would've been furious.

I needed my park today.

Walking the dusty yellowed trail to my new tree I sit down. I pull out my phone and before I could click on my notebook I am greeted with a sign that says, "15% of your battery remains. Charge Your Battery." Great. Hopefully it'll last until I go home.

I close my eyes and let all of my thoughts flood me. My logic: The faster I acknowledge these thoughts the faster I can push them out of my mind. Tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes. I don't want to cry anymore. I take a deep breath. This isn't working. I need to be able to focus on what is happening around me not what is happening in my head. I take another deep breath and begin to pray silently to myself.

My dear Heavenly Father I am so grateful for this beautiful world that we live in. I am grateful that thou allows me to still see the beauty in the world. I am grateful for the sounds of birds speaking with one another above me. I am grateful that I am in dry heat instead of humid heat. I am grateful for my family and friends. I ask thee to please be with me at this time. I need to be here in the moment. I need to be able to focus. I feel lately that my focus has been pulled in several directions, please help me to have focus. To be centered. Please take Him from my thoughts, or at least help me to do it. I love thee so very much. I am so grateful for thee and thy son. I am grateful for my mother in heaven as well as my mother here on earth. Please bless my friends and family with safety, and tell my family in heaven that I love them all and miss them terribly. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

I laid down.

Visions of Him and me whirled around in my mind. The dry grass crunches behind my shoulders and knees. I nestle myself deeper in the grass to get comfortable.

Listen.

The birds overhead are screaming at one another. At least it sounds that way to me when crows open their beaks. I squint open one eye and find the two culprits. A smile takes over my face. Crows are my favorite birds, next to mockingbirds of course. I wonder what they are talking about. Maybe they are fighting over who's tree it is. Laughing I sit up. I scan the park and notice the cement wall that I have walked by so many times. Today is the first time that I notice that it has been white washed. All of the dirty words or images have been covered in white. From a distance (or up close if you are not paying attention) you can't see the words. The bad or ugly has been covered as to not detract from the beauty of it's surroundings.

I close my eyes again and cross my legs, my palms resting on my knees in the stereotypical meditation pose.

Our dear Heavenly Father. Thank You. In the name of Jesus Christ Amen.

I lie back down in my carved out grass angel bed and stare up at the cloudless sky. My phone beeps, vibrates and turns off.

It's better this way.

Lake Alturas (Prompt #4)

When I was very young (3 years old) my single mother with six mouths to feed between the ages of 3-11, often times need help from her family to take care of her children while she worked her three jobs.

I often believe that I was the luckiest of all of her children because I was the youngest. This meant that I didn't have school to bind me from being able to go on spontaneous nature adventures with my grandmother. Although, they weren't too spontaneous as she would have to ask my mom the night before. Plus, I knew they were coming because my grandmother would tell me to go pour soapy water all over a patch of dirt. Doing this made the worms come to the surface, thus making my job of collecting our bait for the next day's fishing expedition very easy.

Whenever we would go on our mini-excursions the majority of the time it was at Lake Alturas. It was about a 2 hour car ride from where we used to live in Idaho. My grandmother taught me how to fish, swim, hike, us the natural facilities, build a fire, put out a fire, make the perfect s'mores, listen to the woods, listen to the animals and just all and all she taught me to love and respect nature. It was something God had made for us and so we needed to keep it clean and treat it with respect the way we do with our bodies and our temples.

Whenever my family would go on family vacations every summer it was to Lake Alturas. It was cheap and when your a single mom with six kids, cheap is a necessity. My mom also would reiterate the teachings that my grandmother had already given to me when we would visit the lake.

Lake Alturas is where my love affair with nature and being a good steward of the world we live in began. It is where many of my favorite memories of my family were formed. My entire family still talks about the good times that were had at that lake. My entire family also has a loving relationship with nature and the rugged terrain of Idaho and Utah. I am so grateful for my grandmother who taught me to truly love this wonderful world we live in. I feel the closest to her whenever I go into the mountains. I also feel closer to my Father in Heaven when I am in the woods. I do not think that is a coincidence.

Technology Failure (Place #4)

Every week, at least once a week, I come to my park, the place where I go to meditate for this class. It seems ironic then that I would bring my phone. My phone, since AWP, has become my notebook--it helps that it has a notebook ap in it. I take my notes about the sights, sounds, smells--if I remember--but always how I'm feeling. This is great because I then have my notes when I get home, but for some reason it is difficult for me to transfer my information from one technological tool to the other.

For example. Today's date is August 2nd and yet I am writing this blog from my notes that I took on July 11th. I went to the park that day specifically because of the date, 7/11. I am not sure if there are any 7/11's in Pittsburgh, but in Utah they are big. They are big here for one reason, Slurpee's. I HATE SLURPEE'S. I have never liked Slurpee's. They're too sugary, too runny. I would rather have a Hawaiian Ice. And yet, as I'm wandering around my park all I could think was, "God, I wish I had a Slurpee right now." It was so incredibly hot. For some odd reason I thought it wouldn't be as hot at 6 o'clock at night, but I was wrong.

This park has become tainted to me every since I met Him here two weeks ago. I promised myself that I would never talk to him again and I broke my word.

I never break my word.

I snuck out of my house. Can you imagine a 29 year old sneaking out of the house. It wasn't even my parents house. I am staying with my best friend and his boyfriend and yet I knew they would be so angry with me for talking to Him that I snuck out of the house. That should've been my first sign to not do it. My second, should've been the climbing on top of a air conditioning unit to then pull myself up a 6-7 foot wall. I am sure this scenario was hilarious to anyone who was watching it from afar. Luckily, it was at 2 AM and most of Salt Lake City is tucked away in their beds at this time. I met him and we ended up kissing at my tree. The tree where I go to do my meditations.

I walked by that tree today. I couldn't stop.

I picked a new tree.

When we were done "talking" by my tree, I cried a little. I told him that I missed him, but that I still hated him for what he did. I hated that I didn't have my best friend in him anymore. I hated that when I finally will go back to Pittsburgh, I will not have that little piece of Utah with me that he encapsulated. He offered to walk me back to the wall and I told him I was fine.

Going back down the wall was not as easy as climbing up it. If I would've thought about it, it would've been my 3rd sign. I didn't really sleep that night. I kept thinking that we would get a knock on the door from the police because someone had called them believing someone was trying to break in.

I am sitting at my new tree, looking at my old tree. All I can smell is Him. All I can see is Him.

I want my park back.

African Elephants (Prompt #3)

You would think after getting a mockingbird tattoo last week that I would want to talk about mockingbirds. I got the tattoo because To Kill a Mockingbird is my favorite book. If I could write at least one book as eloquently and as poignant as Harper Lee did, my life would be complete. I did do a little bit of research about mockingbirds because I thought if it's going to be on my body permanently I should know more than I do about them. They sing...a lot. That's their personality. They also harass other birds who come into their territory.

I am a mockingbird.

A few weeks ago I did something that I vowed years ago that I would never do, I went to a zoo. I am a vegetarian, at least 95% of the time--working up to 100%. Mostly, I am vegetarian for health reasons, meat makes me sick. However, I do believe in animal rights and I believe zoos are damaging to animals and takes away from their inherent natural right of freedom. When we went to Hogle Zoo and came to the African Elephant and the newest baby African Elephant I was face to face with my hypocrisy. I have never seen an animal look so depressed. They were thin and sad. I turned to my mom almost in tears and stated my feelings and she agreed.

I will never go to a zoo again.

I did my research on African elephants.

African elephants are the largest land animals, even bigger than their relatives, Asian elephants. Their ears, although used as a cooling device, are shaped like the continent of Africa. The trunk is used for many things such as: smelling, breathing, drinking, communicating, eating and grabbing things. There are approximately 100,000 muscles in the trunk alone.

Like me, African elephants are vegetarians and as big as a house;) They also, don't sleep a lot--they are looking for food, while I am just sick from the food that I ate. African elephants are not easily domesticated, so why are they in a zoo again? In the wild they are able to live up to 70 years old.

I have always been fascinated with elephants. Perhaps, because they are so tall and I am so little (I'm 5'1", don't judge:) Perhaps, it's because of the saying, "An elephant never forgets." I always wanted to be an elephant with a great memory, forgetting nothing, you win a lot of arguments that way. You also lose a lot of boyfriends. Or maybe it is because as a child I remember feeling so sad for the elephants who were killed for their tusks that are made of ivory. I remember being truly devastated when I learned about this. Men killing, stealing from another animal the beauty that he/she possessed because it could be sold.

As a woman, I feel that I have been objectified for the beauty that appears on the outside. This objectification has felt, at times, that something within me has died. The African elephant is on the threatened list, which means that it is an endangered species. Women are objectified daily. We have to fight to keep our spirits from becoming extinct. I was drawn to the African elephant for a reason.

I am an African elephant.

Who Am I (Place #3)

It's hot. Summer has finally arrived. It is Wednesday, July 6th, 5:50 p.m. I'm sitting under my tree and wishing that the mountains to my east that are still covered in snow mind you, would send some of that cool air my way. Today is the first day, to me, that it felt like a Utah summer day. I mean, Snowbird (snowboarding/ski resort) didn't even close til yesterday. The 4th was the last day it was open. It is never open that late because Utah's weather quickly changes from winter to summer. This year is the first year in a long time that we have actually had a spring. I was grateful.

I'm sitting under this tree in high 90 degree weather wondering to myself, who am I?

I came to Utah for three reasons: to write, spend to spend as much time in the mountains and nature in general as possible and to see friends and family. I feel that I am always behind on the first and unable to write about the things that I wanted to write about in the first place. If it wasn't for this class I wouldn't see the outside of my office building or my house. And because of my job and my classes my family and friends are wondering why I even came back to Utah in the first place. On the plus side, I was given a raise and more hours:/

The sun at my back, warming it. I stare across the field onto the baseball fields--there are games going on. There are always games going on. There are games of Ultimate Frisbee going on as well. I wonder if people are watching me the way that I am watching them. I wonder if they feel sorry for me because I am all alone, without a team. Just me and my thoughts. I like being alone with my thoughts...most of the time.

Casey asked me the other day if I was going to move back to Utah after grad school. I told him I didn't know. He then asked me if I wasn't going to come back to Utah because I would feel like I failed. I told him no. There are many reasons why I would love to come back to Utah, the main reasons being: my family/friends, the geography, the weather/seasons and it feels like home to me. At least it used to. The reasons that I wouldn't want to move back to Utah: because it feels small to me now, if I ever want to get married I couldn't live here because I have dated everyone here (at least that's how it feels) and I don't know if my writing would flourish here. I feel more confused than ever and I hate admitting that at 29.

When I am in Pittsburgh I feel that I am free to be me or at least who I think that I am. I feel that I do not have to be fake or walk on egg shells with what I am saying or believing. When I come back to Utah I have to watch what I say because this person is friends with this person and blah blah blah. I feel that I am constantly telling my family that I do not love them any less because of my beliefs. I want to please everyone, including myself, and I feel that I am failing miserably at times.

I just want to figure out who I am and what I want once and for all so that way I will not be swayed or pulled in directions that I don't want to go. I feel that I should have had this figured out before now, but I guess now is as good a time as any. I want to be firm as my mountains. They are beautifully solid.

I will become a mountain.

My Refuge (Prompt Entry #2)

As many of know, or have figured out, I love Terry Tempest Williams. To say that I admire her work would be an understatement. When I saw the prompt for "this" week (this is in quotes because I am obviously writing this after the week in which is was supposed to be written) I was intimidated. All that was running through my mind was Refuge and needless to say, I was greatly intimidated. I wanted to write something that would evoke everyone who read it to say, "that sounds a lot like TTW." I thought about it all week and the more I thought about it the more I psyched myself out. There is no way I can write like TTW. She is so lyrical and wise in her writing. My tone is very conversational. Although music plays a very big part of my life, my writing lacks a definite rhythm. So, I just have to do it. Besides the fact that my grade depends on it, it is a great exercise. So... here it goes.

God's country. Isolation and a landscape of grit were just what the Mormons were looking for. A land that no one else wanted meant religious freedom and community-building without persecution. It was an environment perfectly suited for a people unafraid of what only their hands could yield. They were a people motivated by the dream of Zion. They had found their Dead Sea and the River Jordan. The Great Basin desert was familiar to them if not by sight, at least by story. Refuge--Terry Tempest Williams

My single mother moved her and her six children to Utah when I was 5 years old. It was to get away from her own battle with persecution and to make a better life for herself and her children. We were not a rich family by any means and so we spent a lot of our time in the Wasatch Mountains. Depending on which hike you wanted to go on you could be hiking within 5 minutes. It was wonderful to have mountains so close to us. They grounded me. They gave me direction. We had many picnics, parties and cookouts in these mountains. When I began driving these mountains were where I came with friends when ditching school or for a night of ghost stories. They also became my place for solace and to think.

Mormons believe that our first prophet, Joseph Smith, saw God and His son, Jesus Christ, in the Sacred Grove. It was in nature. I was raised with this belief. I was also raised with the belief of Mother Nature and of a Heavenly Mother. To me it makes sense that Heavenly Mother was there in the Sacred Grove, even if she wasn't seen. These beliefs instilled in me at such a young age made the idea of God being in nature, natural. The idea that I could be closer to God in nature was just a given.

Because God is in nature, He is in my mountains. He was there when my sister and I would go for our morning runs through the trails behind the Bountiful Temple. He was there when I learned how to cross country ski. He was there when I was walking an unknown trail by myself, lost in contemplation of whether or not Pittsburgh was where I was supposed to go to school.

He was in the creeks and the leaves. He was in the earth and flowers. He was in the roots and the rocks. He was in the Aspen and the Ponderosa Pines. He was there.

My involvement with the Mormon Church has been like the mountains that I grew up in, filled with ridges and peaks, hidden trails and shallow creek beds. Whether I am active or not, what no one seems to understand, no matter how hard I try to explain, is that just like God and Nature have always been there for me--never leaving me, I too, have never and will never leave them. I will always believe in God and I will always believe in Nature. My family doesn't understand that I can still believe in God without going to church. It is hard for them to believe that I still believe, almost as hard to believe that a 14 year old boy saw God and His Son. My mom worries that I am missing out on blessings that I would be receiving if I only would come back to church. I believe that I am blessed everyday that I get to wake up and see snow capped mountains outside of my window. I have found answers to questions when abiding in Nature, in my mountains. I have felt loved, of worth. I have felt a call to fight for Nature and her life. I am pulled to Nature and I do not think it is a coincidence. I have found my spirituality through Nature.

For The Beauty Of The Earth Hymn

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the beauty of each hour
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon and stars of light,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth, and friends above,
Pleasures pure and undefiled,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For each perfect gift of thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of heaven,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For thy Church which evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering up on every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

It's Raining. It's Pouring. (Place #2)

So this is what happens when you decide to procrastinate the day of your blog entry. The day is filled with monsoon like rains. Yes, it's true. I decided to go to my place on Father's Day because I don't live near my father and I don't really celebrate it. Instead, I decided to go to the park before meeting my friends for brunch. Needless to say it was a good thing that I didn't shower beforehand.

Sadly, this might be the only time during the summer that I will have the park, at least my section of it, to myself.

The rain when I began my place meditation was more of a light drizzle. Utah, is not known for its rain. Usually if it rains during the summer months it only lasts for minutes. Today was an exception to the rule and I can hear the feint prayers of gratitude for the moisture with every drop that hits the ground.

I love the smell of the earth when it is wet. Actually, I love the smell of the earth as it begins to receive its gift from the heavens. The smell automatically makes me want to dig around the roots of the tree I'm sitting under for a small rock to suck on. When I was young growing up in Small Town, Idaho I would always suck on rocks in weather like this. The rain would bounce off of the red sand that cradled the road. The smell of the sand beginning to make clay mixed with the hot steam coming off of the road is the most enticing smell to me. I would stop and find a nicely sand coated rock and stick it in my mouth. When the flavor was gone I would throw the rock on the ground sprinkle sand on top of it and place it back on my tongue where it belonged.

As I sit underneath my tree and smell the freshly moistened grass and leaves and soil I smile. It is the first time I am genuinely happy this week. I am happy because I was able to focus my attention onto something else besides the present. This has been a rough couple of months for me filed with everything including a clichéd broken heart. The broken heart followed me from Pennsylvania and has been a constant companion wherever I go. Today was the first day, I feel, that I was able to not think about for at least a good five minutes. That, pathetic as it may seem, is five more minutes than I had yesterday.

The rain is starting to pour now. I can hear the birds, I wish I knew what kind of birds they were, up above me gossiping away. I wonder if they think that I am ridiculous for being outside when I could be inside a warm house. Maybe they are chastising me like my own mother would be doing if she saw me right now without a jacket on, only a hoodie to keep me warm. I envision them telling me that I'm going to catch a cold. Using me as an example for their own children as what not to do.

As I begin to walk home from the park, I take my hoodie off of my head and just let the cold rain hit me. I stand in the middle of the field whispering my own thanks for the moisture that we are receiving, but more than that I am thanking Him for giving me those precious five minutes. Those precious five minutes that I was able to experience out in the open.

I am coughing now, but I am smiling.

There Is No Place Like Home (Prompt #1)

When Brandon told me that he was gay I thought my life was over. I loved him. He loved me as well, just not the way that I wanted or needed. I was 18. I didn't handle it very well.

This past week Brandon and I were watching our daily dose of Will and Grace, when, yet again, it was reinforced how much we are like these infamous TV characters. The episode in particular that we watched, ironically, was the episode where Will came out to Grace, and she didn't handle it at all. Fortunately for Brandon and I, there was forgiveness on both of our parts and we have been friends for over 14 years now. Wherever Brandon is, is where I feel my home is.

Actually, wherever Brandon and his fiance Casey are, is where my home is. They are like the happy parents that I never had growing up. My mom and dad divorced when I was two. According to a therapist I saw on TV (it was free leave me alone) the reason none of my relationships have lasted past two years is because of my parents divorce. Because I know that, I should be able to move past it. Brandon and Casey recently celebrated their eight year anniversary. I tell them all of the time that they cannot split up because I would be devastated. It would be a divorce that I would remember.

My mom is my best friend. Brandon is my best friend. I tell each of them things that I would never tell the other person. Wherever my mom is, is where I feel my home is.

My mom raised her six children by herself. She is a saint and did the best she could with what she had and then proceeded to do even more. She has taught me what it means to unconditionally love someone. She has taught me the true meaning of Christ-like love. She has taught me how to love everyone for who they are. She has taught me the true meaning of family. My family is very close.

I have two families. My biological family and my family which is made up of my dear friends.

Luckily, Bran and Case live in Utah, approximately 25 minutes away from my mom. I don't know what I would do if Bran and Case ever moved. Although my mom's house is my touchstone, Case and Bran are my home. They are my guts, they are my insides. Plus, they have a guest bedroom for me to stay in when I am home:)

I have lived in Utah, before I moved to Pittsburgh for grad school, for roughly 22 years. I have grown up with Great Salt Lake to the west of me and fun hikes through the Wasatch Mountains mere minutes to the East of me. Utah's religion/religious culture is a direct result of the geography. When Brigham Young, 2nd prophet of the LDS church said, "This is the place" when gazing down upon the Salt Lake Valley, the Mormons believed that this was the place God had set apart for them. In the King James Version of the Bible in Matthew 5:14-16 it says, "Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven." If you have ever been to Salt Lake City, or even just Utah in general, you would be amazed by the beauty of the landscapes, but also by how clean the city is. There is a pride in the cleanliness of the city. It is one of the reasons why I love the city. Unfortunately, there is also--at times--an air of holier-than-thou-ness the resides over the city, like the inversion (smog). Although, I believe that the religion teaches to love everyone, I feel that the culture breeds more of keeping those not of the religion to be outsiders. It is very sad and disheartening.

I want to take a look more closely at the geography of Utah and see if there is a way that I can utilize it to help me turn the culture on it's ear. I love Utah, it is my home state. It is what I know. It is home to my homes. It shows love to my mom and otherness to my friends. I need it to love and house them both.

My Spot (Place Entry #1)

Brandon, is my very best friend in the entire world. We have been friends since the first time he rejected me; I was 16. I am turning 30 this September and cannot believe the ride our relationship has been on. I am so grateful for his love and support...especially this summer. He and his boyfriend of eight years, Casey, are letting me stay with them in their beautiful condo. They have an English Cockerspaniel, Serena, who is a diva. So many divas under one roof:)

Brandon and Casey have lived in this condo for 5 of those years I believe. It is located in Holladay, which is still considered Salt Lake City. I have been to this condo, stayed at this condo and even house sat this condo a lot during those 5 years. In order to do all of those things I had to drive past Big Cottonwood Regional Park, which is actually just across the street. It is a good sized park, with 4 softball fields, soccer fields, a volleyball court, a large pavilion and much more. Even though this park is so beautiful I would have never known had it not been for Serena. I went to take her for a walk at the park and fell in love.

Before I took Serena on this serendipitous walk, my plan was to venture up to the nearby mountains and find a spot there, or even Sugar House park, which has been "my" park forever. However, lack of car (still trying to find the right one to purchase) made those plans basically impossible.

I took Serena out for a walk because I needed to clear my head. So much has been happening in such a short period of time. I had reached a breaking point, where I didn't want to think anymore, or feel anymore. Unfortunately those things don't really happen when you are walking alone with a dog and no Ipod to even keep your brain busy. I made her walk forever on pavement, avoiding the park at all costs. I just didn't want to go in there. I didn't want to feel and I knew if I went in there I would feel something.

I was right.

I felt so bad for making Serena walk where I wanted to walk and was worried about her little paws that I gave in and took her to the park on our way back home. I took her off her leash and she let loose. She would run about 100 feet and then stop, look at me and smile, and then take off running again. She was so happy and I couldn't help, but laugh at this wonderful display of pure joy.

I decided to walk on the outskirts of the park where there was a hint of a trail. It was so calm and peaceful on that "trail". There were some soccer games going on, but I could barely hear them. I was focused on the trees and the green grass. I was focused on a dog that was sliding on her back down the hill. It was fantastic.

This park will be my spot. This is where I will come to ponder and meditate. To release any negativity and find the positivity. This is where I will find some pieces of me that I feel I have either misplaced or perhaps have been mistreated by someone. It is my job to find them and put them together in a new way.

This place will help me to do that.

Mentor

“If you know wilderness in the way that you know love, you would be unwilling to let it go. We are talking about the body of the beloved, not real estate.” Terry Tempest Williams