Roller Coaster

As many of you have heard, my family was literally a signature away from leaving our lovely Lehi home to move to Chicago, the other windy city. I suppose that now it's all over, I can give a quick synopsis of the details and behind the scenes.

So a few months ago, my father found this company in Chicago while looking for new jobs, like he had been doing for a while. At the same time he was also interviewing with Microsoft in Seattle, which he had high hopes for, but ultimately didn't go anywhere. I knew that he was interviewing with both companies, and I informed him that, if it came to it, I would rather live in Seattle than Chicago. He laughed and reassured me that it was still a ways down the road and I didn't need to worry about it now.

Well the last two weeks have been the most difficult my parents have had to face, because we had reached that way down the road with the Chicago company.

Two weeks ago Monday, my dad was flown out to Chicago by the company he had been interviewing with so that they could get the feel of him in person. Two days later, they extended an offer. At first glance, my dad was ecstatic! He had been searching for a new job for quite some time now, and had finally gotten a great offer from a company he had high hopes for! And to top it off, it was in Chicago!

...Oh wait. Chicago. That's out of state.

Since my dad had come out of college, he had always expected to move out of state and raise a family outside of Utah. Whether because he had grown up in Utah himself, or was just an adventurous guy, I don't know. But coming out of college, he landed an internship in the very city he was now being faced with returning to. So it's not like it would be completely foreign to them. But moving! The costs were just too high to even consider it. So he regretfully informed the company of his dilemma, and prepared to keep searching for new opportunities.

Then the company came back offering an extremely generous relocation package. Oh boy. What to do now? Que the soul searching. Over the period of about the next five days, my parents went back and forth with the decision of moving - some days yes, some days no - but weren't always on the same page. He had to give them their answer by Monday at noon, and tried hard to find an answer by then, but he couldn't get it.

Then Monday came. He went into work that day preparing to inform the company yet again that he would have to decline, but right before noon came, he and my mom had a talk on the phone, during which my mom said, "Go for it." And so with that, his opinion changed and he accepted their offer. Look out Chicago, here we come.

But wait, it doesn't end there. After accepting the offer, my mom was still very apprehensive. She didn't know why, but she just had a terrible feeling about the whole move, and couldn't shake it. So Tuesday became the final emotional drain pipe, and Wednesday morning my dad once more called them back. He informed them of all the goings on, and the tough situation we had been in. He regretfully and very respectfully told them how appreciative he was about their extreme kindness and flexibility, but that uprooting a family was just too much of a strain at this time, and that he had to once again decline.

So imagine our surprise later that day, when we heard that he had gotten another call from them at 5:00.

They still wanted him. He could work remote. And he accepted on the spot.

Well let me tell you, it has been two long weeks for our family, but we are counting our blessings, and are amazed at the incomprehensible miracles we have seen. God loves His children, but sometimes you have to take a step into the darkness before you come into light again. Sometimes a leap of faith is necessary to jump into His loving arms, and to know that everything is alright, and everything will be alright. And He will always guide you.

If We Saw The World Through A Pool

If we saw the world through a pool,
What kind of things would we see?
The shimmering splendor of Earth
Trapped in a rippling scene?

Would we find the things we had lost?
Would the beauty inside return?
Would seeing the planet anew
Again start to make it turn?

When you look inside of the pool,
Who is in there staring back?
What is in you that isn't in there,
And what has he that you lack?

How would we see those around us
Who dream much like you and I?
They see themselves in reflections,
And both persons there are tied.

Would we look past the imperfections
Of the earthly half that we see?
In the wind-blown waters of pools,
Who can truly see clearly?

If we saw the world through a pool,
We would never have to look far,
And how much better would we be,
If we could see things as they are?

~Trevor Howell

Potential

My life is no different than any of yours. I wake up every morning to go through same routines. I eat the same food as you do, and I associate with many of the same people as well.

We are among the lucky ones of this world for many reasons, though. We have loving families, we have a warm shelter over our heads, and we are receiving an education. This may not seem like much, but if you think of the 1 billion people in China, or the children in the Middle East who are on a war front, or children in Africa who wonder each day if they will find something, anything to eat, then you start to appreciate what you've got a little more.

However, our potential is not limited to our circumstances. Of course, if you have never seen, or even know what a piano or a cello is, you aren't going to be a Mozart at it the moment you pick one up. That's the point of potential. It takes work and practice, and sometimes, the opportunity just never presents itself to start learning an instrument, for example. Potential's definition is: capable, or able of becoming; not: master at being.

Knowing this, we can strive to pursue any path to discover our potential. Sometimes, it's easy for us to see that our potential may not lie down a certain pathway. But sometimes, we can't be the judge for ourselves. For example, when I was still taking piano lessons, I was always asking my mom to let me quit. I would moan and pout and try to practice as little as possible, but my mom saw something I could have never seen as a nine-year old. She saw my potential. She knew that I couldn't just quit because she saw that I excelled in that area. Luckily, I never did quit, and I am so grateful for that, because look what has happened since:

One thing we need to understand about potential, is that it never comes quickly. It doesn't happen overnight, but it happens with years of work and practice. Potential is a goal, not a hole. (Haha I just made that up!) What I mean by that is, you work for goals, and you work to dig holes. But when you look back on your work, goals get you places in life, and holes just get you stuck. Your potential will never get you stuck in life, (unless you use it for illegal practices) but will always help you wherever you go, and even impress people along the way, saying, "Wow! Look at how much effort went into his/her talent."

However, it isn't just about us. We need to look out for those around us as well, because they have potential too. Believe it or not, those African kids I mentioned earlier have potential as well. They may not have your opportunities, or your resources, but they won't have the same potential as you, either. Maybe their potential is to be a leader, and they gain those traits throughout life. Maybe their potential is to look out for others, and they learn to do so by caring for their family and friends. But, like I said, you can't achieve your potential by yourself. Would I have ever come to my skill level in piano had it not been for my mom? No, in fact, I probably would have quit. We need to be that person in someone else's life who can see something in them that they may not be able to see. We need to be that person who says, "Come on, don't give up! Keep pushing through, because when you look back, you will surprise yourself at how far you've come."

On a last note, it's fun to reach for your potential once you've found it! Because along the way, you can show people how far you've come, because talents like yours are not meant to be only for you. Your talents can bless and help and inspire others to find their potential and grow their talents as well.

The goal I have been striving towards since last summer (2012) has finally been met, which was to release an EP on iTunes, and I am very proud of myself! If you haven't seen or heard, it would please me very much if you did. Thank you for reading my blog yet again, and have a wonderful day!

My Words

Hey guys :) (I always seem to start these posts with "Hey" or "Hey again" or "Hi." It's too mainstream. AHHHHHH!!!!)


...Anyways. If you have been a reader in the past, (or have gone and looked at my older posts) you may have seen my top ten list on words that I think should be words. Well, I enjoyed that so much that I think I'm going to keep doing that! Also because I have nothing better to post about. So here we go!

Words That Should Be Words

Volume 1

Shenga: (Shen-guh) verb - an alternate form of belly-dancing where one never actually even reveals the belly or any other body parts. The dancing is all done by jello in front of the abdominal area.

Nok: (Nock) noun - a large fish in a rediculously small lake.

Defarndo: (Dee-farn-doh) noun - an old man's name, more commonly found in Italy.

Hujujuju: (Hoo-joo-joo-joo) adjective - pertaining or referring to the mysterious aura surrounding drunk people.

Biguantionimrod: (Big-oo-an-ti-oh-nim-rod) noun - a rare breed of rock-fish that live on land, disguised as rocks. Found: everywhere.

Juhstenbeebrr: (Juh-stin-bee-ber) noun - impossible to define.

Heliobeliomeliocrakakaelio: (He-lee-oh-bee-lee-oh-me-lee-oh-crack-uh-crack-uh-ee-lee-oh) verb - to break every bone in one's, or another's, body by hitting them with an iced over water balloon.

And that does it for volume one's new words! Tune in next time for more words! Thank you, and goodnight.

My Personal Narrative

Alright folks, I think it's high time for another entry, don't you? ;) So for my English class at school we were given the assignment to write a personal narrative about a story in our life.

I chose to write about a traumatic experience I had as a child that involves a steep hill, rocks, and two children on bicyles (one of which was me, if you hadn't guessed). If you want to spend three minutes reading it, here you go. BADABING.

Personal Narrative

            It was a hot summer day, the kind of day that you find yourself wishing for winter just so it would cool down. A gentle breeze was blowing the leaves on the trees back and forth, and I enjoyed listening to them rustle. It was just enough to tease me that I might in fact cool down, but of course I didn’t. So instead of relying on the breeze to refresh me, I had an ice cold lemonade in my hand. I looked forward to every gulp because it chilled my throat and restored my faith in summer.

            It was back when I lived in my old neighborhood; the one where my block only had ten houses. Back when I only went to school for half of a day, and when I was as wild as the wind and as carefree as any kid would be at seven years old. It was the time when we played Ghost in the Graveyard every night, but were still home for our 8 o’ clock bed-time.

            I loved that time.

            I was sitting in front of my house with my lemonade when I saw Chris coming over. Chris lived two doors down from my house, and he was one of the many kids my age on the block.

            “Hey Chris.” I said.

            “Hey, wanna play?” Chris smiled. I knew that he had been pretty bored lately, and so I said yes. “So… What do you want to do?” he asked.

            “Why don’t we ride bikes?” I suggested. That was always a popular activity in our neighborhood, and Chris enthusiastically agreed.

            We rode around our block about ten times. Racing, chasing, doing “stunts,” etc. But of course, us being kids, we soon got bored because of our short attention span. We needed something new. Something extravagant. Something… awesome. And that’s when we knew what we would do.

            The Hill.

            Now before I go on, I have to explain a few things. First of all, this wasn't just any hill. This was The Hill. It was a winding road that went up on about a 45 degree slant, had houses along each curve, and was extremely dangerous for two seven year old boys on their very own “two-wheels.” For some reason, all the kids in the neighborhood, including me, chanted, “We’re going down the Cherry Falls, we’re going down the Cherry Falls!” every time we drove down it. Why we called it the Cherry Falls, I still have no idea. Its’ shorter nickname was “The Squiggly Hill,” and the Squiggly-Cherry-Falls-Hill was what we were going to conquer that day. Oh yes, and one more thing. Since we were seven years old and knew that we were invincible, weren’t wearing any helmets.

            After arriving at the top of the hill, we looked at each other as if to say, “I am so ready for this!” But, right before going down, we simultaneously decided that we probably shouldn’t be riding in the middle of the street. After all, that was dangerous. So once we had made that decision, we went over to the left sidewalk and prepped for take-off.

            Five…Four…Three…Race you to the bottom! And we were off.

            Looking back, I realize that the second most stupid thing we did that day, besides not wearing a helmet, was peddling downhill. But oh man, were we flying! It was such a thrilling ride. We became the wind as we weaved down the Squiggly Hill, practically soaring on our bicycles. Yes, we were Speed itself. That is, until Chris hit a crack in the sidewalk.

            All I remember from that moment on is blurred. I can see Chris tumbling over the front of his bicycle. I can see him lying face down on that big rock. I remember a lady running out of her house to help him up, and I remember accidentally running into her back and flying off my bike as well. I remember sitting dazed on the sidewalk while the lady carried Chris into her house. I don’t remember Chris ever screaming. I think he might have passed out. There was blood everywhere, and I was still sitting with my bike a few feet from me on the sidewalk. Surprisingly, I only walked away with a few scratches. I must not have landed on my head like Chris did.

            I remember being told later that day that Chris’ mom had freaked out when she heard what had happened to us, but strangely enough, I don’t remember my mom’s reaction. I’m sure I was grounded. Chris’ mom had called an ambulance the moment she heard about our accident, but apparently the ambulance was a little too slow getting there, and so she drove Chris to the hospital herself, putting towels down in the back seat where he was so that the blood didn’t get in the car.

            A week or so later I was standing on the street corner waiting for something. I don’t remember what it was, but that’s when I saw Chris again. He was walking up the street toward me, and he didn’t look too different except for his bruised face. When he got closer however, I saw that there was a little more than just some black and blue.

            “Hey, Chris! …What’s up?”

            “Hey man,” he replied.

            “So, how many stitches did you get?” I asked.

            “Thirteen,” he replied.

            He told me a while later, once he had had enough time to laugh about the experience himself, that his forehead had apparently been gashed so deep that the doctors could see his skull.

            Since that time, I have never ridden back down the Squiggly Hill on my bike. Even though I wasn’t injured, the story will definitely stay with me forever.

This Is What We Do

We go day to day Thinking.

Addressing, speaking.

Anything we believe,

We know we can achieve.

The world around us passes,

And we look on.

We go day to day Wondering.

Finding, pondering.

The things that we find,

Are never left behind.

As the world around us changes,

We stand firm.

We go day to day Dreaming.

Hoping, bringing.

The light that we shine

Illuminates the minds

Of the people in

The world around us.

We go day to day Growing

Planting, sowing.

We assist the weak

Who struggle to speak

In a world around us

That is much too loud.

We go day to day Smiling.

Trying, winding.

The cogs that turn on

In the gears far beyond

The world around us

That spins too fast.

We go day to day Hearing.

Standing, nearing.

Our hearts listen for

The tear drop on the floor.

The world around us cries,

But we can help.

We go day to day Living.

Soothing, giving.

Our parents taught us

Now we will teach them,

The world around us has

Innumerable Gems.

We go day to day Knowing.

Teaching, flowing.

Experiences we've had

To help others avoid the bad

In a world around us

Where the black turns to grey.

We Think,

We Wonder,

We Dream,

We Grow.

We Smile,

We Hear,

We Live,

We Know.

This Is What We Do.

~Trevor Howell

Hey. It's been a while.

Well, welcome back faithful blog readers. (Laugh)

It's been a while! Where have I been? Well lately my life has been the high school musical, just like it always has been twice a year. (Not High School Musical, THE high school musical.)

Unfortunately I have nothing to post, and so I devote the next five minutes to writing whatever comes to the top of my head. Then I'm off to eat some turkey.

Ready... Set... GO.

Lava lamps are what drive, not cow dung. Simmering soufle of brown substances are fed to me on a silver platter in the middle of a very large dining hall.
Uh.
So Scungilli, we meet at last. FOR THE LAST TIME. ~Bszheeew waaaahw mwaaooow~
Proceed to cliff face. Enjoy the view but don't pick the weeds.
RAMALAMALAMA KADINGIDDY DINGADONG. TOGETHER FO-EVAH LIKE SHUUWAHP BUDOO LABBY YIPPIDY BANG DI BANG.
Now that we are on the subject of music I will have to ramp up the bass. Prepare to take flight. No seriously. I'd hold on to something.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWW
So. How did you enjoy that? Ok well eat my beanloaf. I make a beanloaf nice. BEEEAAANLOOOOAF. NICE.
I love Pokemon. Especially Dragonite. He boss man. So is Gyrados. And... and... Oh look, a talking squirill. Make way folks, I'm coming through.



Whew! Ok. I'm done. Well I don't really know what just happened there, but I have a feeling when I read back on this post in like, a year, I will probably either die of hystaria, or imagine how freak-like I must have been to write something like that.

BIE.