I'm hooked. I finally tried a Spinning class this morning. I've wanted to try Spinning for a couple years now, but I've psyched myself out because of the crazy stories I'd heard (people passing out, throwing up, etc.). My friend Sara has been asking me to come for a few weeks now, and she and another friend Karen and I all went together this morning, and I LOVED IT!! Yes, it was intense, but since you control your own speed and resistance, you can go at your own pace, though there is an instructor there calling out "moves" (which I'm sure is not the right word -- I'm obviously new at this so I don't know the terminology). It was so motivating because you're in this funky studio with dimmed lights and music pumping; I did not, however, get as into it as the die-hard class member at the front of the room who tosses her perfectly styled little bob from side to side to the beat of the music. Karen, Sara and I (sorry -- no photos -- we were all pretty much dripping by the end!) all agreed that the workout goes super fast and leaves you feeling great (Though I have to admit my bum is sore from the seat. As nice of bikes as they are, the seat was not comfortable at all!). So I guess I've now officially jumped on the Pilates and Spinning bandwagons. Not sure what's next . . . maybe yoga?
Spinning . . . out of control!
I'm hooked. I finally tried a Spinning class this morning. I've wanted to try Spinning for a couple years now, but I've psyched myself out because of the crazy stories I'd heard (people passing out, throwing up, etc.). My friend Sara has been asking me to come for a few weeks now, and she and another friend Karen and I all went together this morning, and I LOVED IT!! Yes, it was intense, but since you control your own speed and resistance, you can go at your own pace, though there is an instructor there calling out "moves" (which I'm sure is not the right word -- I'm obviously new at this so I don't know the terminology). It was so motivating because you're in this funky studio with dimmed lights and music pumping; I did not, however, get as into it as the die-hard class member at the front of the room who tosses her perfectly styled little bob from side to side to the beat of the music. Karen, Sara and I (sorry -- no photos -- we were all pretty much dripping by the end!) all agreed that the workout goes super fast and leaves you feeling great (Though I have to admit my bum is sore from the seat. As nice of bikes as they are, the seat was not comfortable at all!). So I guess I've now officially jumped on the Pilates and Spinning bandwagons. Not sure what's next . . . maybe yoga?
Missing Bishop Teina
I'm often surprised by what makes me start missing someone or something. The other day it was Eliot's blessing certificate. Grant had set it out after he'd found it in an old binder, and one of the first things I noticed on it was Bishop "Teina's" signature ("Teina" is his first name, but most people called him that since his last name, which I won't even attempt to spell here, was too complicated for most of us non-Pacific Islanders to pronounce!). All it took was seeing Bishop Teina's signature to make me miss our old bishop and our old ward in Provo.
Before you go conjuring up in your head what it is I missed and start imagining a stereotypical Provo, Utah, LDS ward, let me stop you and assure you that this ward was nothing like what you are most likely imagining. It was, to this point in my life, the most unique ward I have ever had the privilege of attending. I could go on and on and list the characteristics that made that ward so unique, but, in all honesty, I don't have that kind of time, and you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you. It was that unique. It was a have-to-see-it-to-believe-it kind of place. I will say this -- so much of what I loved and miss about that ward, and so much of what I believe made that ward so unique had to do with Bishop Teina and his one-of-a-kind leadership style.
Bishop Teina with his wife, Ramona (left), Vernetta, our former
Relief Society president (right) and one of their friends
at a farewell luau for Vernetta's son in July of 2006
I don't really believe in idolizing individuals, but if there was ever someone who deserved to be put up on a pedestal, it's Bishop Teina. As I would tell my dad about the experiences we had while we attended that ward, he would tell me over and over again, "Monica, I hope you're writing this down." And I'm ashamed and even more importantly, so regretful, that I didn't. I'm afraid that most of the details of the experiences we had with Bishop Teina have all but faded, leaving me with a few distinct memories (which I'll share as best as I can remember them). But overall, my experiences and memories have fuzzed into an overall feeling, and that feeling is LOVE. But not just any kind of love. Pure, absolutely unconditional, nonjudgmental, gentle, happy, refreshing love. When I read the phrase in the scriptures that describes God as not being a respecter of persons, I think of Bishop Teina and how he loved people. The beauty and the magic of his love, from my perspective anyway, was that you could feel that you were so special to Bishop Teina, that he loved you individually, and yet you knew that he felt that way about everyone he knew (and probably those he didn't know, too!). And that feeling -- Godlike love -- was and is so reassuring, so pure, so perfect.
As for the experiences that led me to feel that kind of love, here are the few that I remember clearly:
One evening Bishop Teina had asked Grant, who was serving as one of Bishop Teina's counselors at the time (which is another story for another day), to meet with a woman whose mother had just passed away and help her make arrangements for the funeral. Because it was a single sister and Bishop wouldn't be able to meet Grant there until later, Grant asked me to accompany him. I did, and I'm so thankful to this day that I got to witness that sweet experience. Grant and I did the best we could to bring comfort to the sister and her family, and Grant carefully and kindly attended to the details of making funeral plans, but the whole course of the evening changed dramatically when Teina and his sweet wife arrived. In his humble and kind way, Bishop came in, talked kindly and happily with the family, then called his daughter and asked her to bring . . . his ukulele (told you his style was one-of-a-kind). And then, he did the perfect, most appropriate thing he could have done -- he sang with the family. He sang some hymns, but mostly he sang sweet songs like "You are My Sunshine" that brought smiles and comfort and peace to a home that so desperately needed those reassuring emotions. I left that home amazed and with a new understanding of what it means to "comfort those that stand in need of comfort" and "mourn with those that mourn." What I learned from Bishop Teina is that perhaps those Christian invitations mean to make people smile, to make them feel happy again, to sing with them and pray with them and just love them.
A much less dramatic example, yet just as sweet for me, was when Bishop greeted me in the chapel before sacrament meeting one Sunday and told me that he had something for me in his office. I had just assumed that he had some materials or paperwork that pertained to my calling, but my heart was touched again by his sweet kindness when Bishop grabbed a fresh, juicy orange off his desk and handed it to me. I was expecting at the time, and Grant must have mentioned that I was needing to have more Vitamin C in my diet (not sure why?), so bishop had set aside a "special" orange just for me. If I remember correctly (this is why Dad told me to write these things down as they were happening), he had been in California on business and had brought that fresh, California orange back with him.
One of the last memories I have of Bishop Teina was how he would "send people off" as they moved from the ward. It was a common practice for Bishop to pull out his beloved ukulele from behind the pulpit and, after the closing hymn and prayer were done, gather at the front of the chapel those who were leaving, along with some of the singers from the ward, and sing "Aloha Oe." We witnessed this sweet send-off several times, and he did the same for us when we left. Our last Sunday happened to be the day that Eliot was blessed, so the congregation was filled with not only our sweet ward family, but also my immediate and some extended family. It was a tearful but joyous goodbye, one that you don't see too often in wards outside of the Pacific islands. Unusual? Yes. One of the purest demonstrations of love I've ever witnessed? Absolutely.
As I've typed these experiences, a few others have come to mind. I'll write those down, too (I promise, Dad), but for sake of space here and because some are too personal and sacred to share, I'll jot them down in my personal journal. As a final thought, how grateful I am for the Bishop Teinas of my life -- the Christlike people who use the talents and gifts individual to them to bless the lives of others and who unselfishly show genuine love to everyone they meet. I truly aspire to be like him and his sweet wife. Aloha, Bishop Teina (we love you). "We love him, because he first loved us" 1 John 4:19.
Before you go conjuring up in your head what it is I missed and start imagining a stereotypical Provo, Utah, LDS ward, let me stop you and assure you that this ward was nothing like what you are most likely imagining. It was, to this point in my life, the most unique ward I have ever had the privilege of attending. I could go on and on and list the characteristics that made that ward so unique, but, in all honesty, I don't have that kind of time, and you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you. It was that unique. It was a have-to-see-it-to-believe-it kind of place. I will say this -- so much of what I loved and miss about that ward, and so much of what I believe made that ward so unique had to do with Bishop Teina and his one-of-a-kind leadership style.
Bishop Teina with his wife, Ramona (left), Vernetta, our formerRelief Society president (right) and one of their friends
at a farewell luau for Vernetta's son in July of 2006
As for the experiences that led me to feel that kind of love, here are the few that I remember clearly:
One evening Bishop Teina had asked Grant, who was serving as one of Bishop Teina's counselors at the time (which is another story for another day), to meet with a woman whose mother had just passed away and help her make arrangements for the funeral. Because it was a single sister and Bishop wouldn't be able to meet Grant there until later, Grant asked me to accompany him. I did, and I'm so thankful to this day that I got to witness that sweet experience. Grant and I did the best we could to bring comfort to the sister and her family, and Grant carefully and kindly attended to the details of making funeral plans, but the whole course of the evening changed dramatically when Teina and his sweet wife arrived. In his humble and kind way, Bishop came in, talked kindly and happily with the family, then called his daughter and asked her to bring . . . his ukulele (told you his style was one-of-a-kind). And then, he did the perfect, most appropriate thing he could have done -- he sang with the family. He sang some hymns, but mostly he sang sweet songs like "You are My Sunshine" that brought smiles and comfort and peace to a home that so desperately needed those reassuring emotions. I left that home amazed and with a new understanding of what it means to "comfort those that stand in need of comfort" and "mourn with those that mourn." What I learned from Bishop Teina is that perhaps those Christian invitations mean to make people smile, to make them feel happy again, to sing with them and pray with them and just love them.
A much less dramatic example, yet just as sweet for me, was when Bishop greeted me in the chapel before sacrament meeting one Sunday and told me that he had something for me in his office. I had just assumed that he had some materials or paperwork that pertained to my calling, but my heart was touched again by his sweet kindness when Bishop grabbed a fresh, juicy orange off his desk and handed it to me. I was expecting at the time, and Grant must have mentioned that I was needing to have more Vitamin C in my diet (not sure why?), so bishop had set aside a "special" orange just for me. If I remember correctly (this is why Dad told me to write these things down as they were happening), he had been in California on business and had brought that fresh, California orange back with him.
One of the last memories I have of Bishop Teina was how he would "send people off" as they moved from the ward. It was a common practice for Bishop to pull out his beloved ukulele from behind the pulpit and, after the closing hymn and prayer were done, gather at the front of the chapel those who were leaving, along with some of the singers from the ward, and sing "Aloha Oe." We witnessed this sweet send-off several times, and he did the same for us when we left. Our last Sunday happened to be the day that Eliot was blessed, so the congregation was filled with not only our sweet ward family, but also my immediate and some extended family. It was a tearful but joyous goodbye, one that you don't see too often in wards outside of the Pacific islands. Unusual? Yes. One of the purest demonstrations of love I've ever witnessed? Absolutely.
As I've typed these experiences, a few others have come to mind. I'll write those down, too (I promise, Dad), but for sake of space here and because some are too personal and sacred to share, I'll jot them down in my personal journal. As a final thought, how grateful I am for the Bishop Teinas of my life -- the Christlike people who use the talents and gifts individual to them to bless the lives of others and who unselfishly show genuine love to everyone they meet. I truly aspire to be like him and his sweet wife. Aloha, Bishop Teina (we love you). "We love him, because he first loved us" 1 John 4:19.
Simple Joys
I was recently encouraged to make a list of my simple joys -- the little things in life that make me happy, and, as this person put it, "if you lost it all, the things that would still bring you joy." I'm sure this list will grow over time, but off the cuff, here are some of my simple joys:
- Hugging Grant and having him rest his chin on my head
- Eliot's slobbery kisses (which he now gives me voluntarily, and which he gives to the picture of Jesus on one of his books -- melts my heart!)
- The smell of newborn babies
- Sitting at the kitchen counter at my parents' house and talking with my mom
- The McEuen girls' "sister hug"
- Playing "Steal the Bacon" with my nieces and nephews
- The smell of the pine trees in Flagstaff, Arizona, and hearing them sway and creak in the wind
- Remembering Grandpa's laugh
- Climbing into a bed with fresh, clean sheets
- The smell of home-baked bread
- Watching "It's a Wonderful Life" at Christmas time with Grant
- Eating a just-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookie
- Taking Eliot to get his picture taken
- Wave running and barbecues at my in-laws' during the summer
- The look on Grant's face at Disneyland
- Listening to Don Williams while floating down Lake Powell on the houseboat . . . miss those days!
- Buying Christmas presents for Eliot
- The sound of laughing with my mom and sisters
- Any homemade dinner by my mom -- even if I use the exact same recipe, it never tastes as good as Mom's
- Decorating for Christmas while listening to Christmas music
- My mother-in-law's pie crust (and the pie that goes in it, obviously!)
- Watching Eliot sleep
- A freshly cleaned bathroom
- Sunlight trickling through Oregon pine trees (it doesn't happen too often, but when it does, it's beautiful!)
- My nephew Nate's power hugs
- Seeing Eliot with his Nanny and Ampy and Grandma and Grandpa
- Grant's huge, contagious smile
- Fresh-squeezed orange juice and/or Hna. Dupont's fresh-squeezed guava juice
- Getting a hand-written card or letter in the mail, especially from my mom (who has the most perfect handwriting I've ever seen!)
- The smell of rain (and I'm in the perfect place for that, now aren't I?!)
- Hearing Eliot laugh
- The memory of holding Eliot for the first time -- the sweetest and most sacred moment of my life
Third Time's a Charm . . . Bracelet!
It's time to put away the bling. I'm not a huge jewelry person, but I do have some staples that I wear (or more appropriately, wore) somewhat regularly. Besides my wedding ring, I usually wear a plain silver band on my right hand (given to me by a girl I taught on my mission), a simple silver necklace/pendant, and my Eliot bracelet, shown in this picture:
My Eliot bracelet was one of my favorite gifts I received when Eliot was born. It was given to me by (get ready for this) my sister's sister-in-law, who does amazing bead work. It's truly a "charm" bracelet -- filled with all kinds of sentimental details. Besides spelling out Eliot's name in sterling silver "block" letters, it has pearl beads to signify Eliot's birth month (June) and a charm with the birthstones for Grant's and my birth months. It's super sweet and one of my favorite pieces of jewelry to wear. Or at least is was.
At Christmas time, I accidentally broke the clasp in the process of building a snowman in my in-laws' front yard. I never found the clasp but worried that it would turn up when my father-in-law was snow-blowing the front walk (no sign of it yet ... phew). So, I tucked it away until my cousin Becky, who also makes bracelets, could help me fix it.
I was so pleased the other day to finally get to wear my Eliot bracelet again. No sooner had I gotten used to the feel of the beads dangling around my wrist, though, when Eliot gave my bracelet a solid tug, and the other end of the bracelet snapped apart, beads popping off around us on the carpet (at least we salvaged all the beads!). So, I guess I'll take it home with me this summer and get Beck to help me fix it (again) or maybe I'll have a friend show me how to re-string my bracelet, since, knowing my luck, the bracelet may get broken yet again.
Or maybe, like so many of the young moms out there (who are apparently much wiser than I am!), I'll just put the "bling" away for a while. Maybe I can make teething ring bracelets and pacifier pedants the new craze?!
My Eliot bracelet was one of my favorite gifts I received when Eliot was born. It was given to me by (get ready for this) my sister's sister-in-law, who does amazing bead work. It's truly a "charm" bracelet -- filled with all kinds of sentimental details. Besides spelling out Eliot's name in sterling silver "block" letters, it has pearl beads to signify Eliot's birth month (June) and a charm with the birthstones for Grant's and my birth months. It's super sweet and one of my favorite pieces of jewelry to wear. Or at least is was.At Christmas time, I accidentally broke the clasp in the process of building a snowman in my in-laws' front yard. I never found the clasp but worried that it would turn up when my father-in-law was snow-blowing the front walk (no sign of it yet ... phew). So, I tucked it away until my cousin Becky, who also makes bracelets, could help me fix it.
I was so pleased the other day to finally get to wear my Eliot bracelet again. No sooner had I gotten used to the feel of the beads dangling around my wrist, though, when Eliot gave my bracelet a solid tug, and the other end of the bracelet snapped apart, beads popping off around us on the carpet (at least we salvaged all the beads!). So, I guess I'll take it home with me this summer and get Beck to help me fix it (again) or maybe I'll have a friend show me how to re-string my bracelet, since, knowing my luck, the bracelet may get broken yet again.
Or maybe, like so many of the young moms out there (who are apparently much wiser than I am!), I'll just put the "bling" away for a while. Maybe I can make teething ring bracelets and pacifier pedants the new craze?!
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