con·science

the sense of what is right and wrong that governs somebody's thoughts and actions, urging him or her to do right rather than wrong

maybe it’s a little green cricket dressed smartly in a top-hat. maybe it’s two little characters lingering on the shoulders. one wears a white robe with a halo, the other carries red pitch fork and has horns. maybe it’s just human instinct.

in my opinion it’s light. the light of a higher being helping to inspire either happiness and comfort, or conflict and guilt in each of us. every human is born with a natural sense of what’s right and what’s wrong. different cultures may instill different values dependent upon social norms. as years go on, many people grow up, and certain values will change. consciences may become numb from so much neglect, while others will still remain strong, influencing characters for the better.

the question is, do we listen to this influence? from the insignificant choice of which jeans to wear to the influential decision of whether or not to study, a variety of choices need to be made each day.  luckily, we have a guide. “it works according to our faith and diligence…”

I was blessed enough to have some experiences a weekend ago that forced me to exercise my agency. choosing "the right" suddenly became harder than it had ever been. what really is right? do I know? who am I and what am I doing with my life anyway? 

sometimes...you choose before you think. and sometimes that's ok. you choose on impulse because ultimately it doesn't matter. and sometimes you leap before you look because you're scared to look or listen. I didn't take time to listen, I blindly stepped forward, shunning the little green cricket in a top hat. I'm sure he was whispering, "Megan, Megan...think! you have a brain and you have me. listen, Megan. Megan..." but somewhere inside, I already knew the consequences. so I shut my eyes and walked on, choosing my own path.

admittedly, my eternal progression didn't come to a halt. my heart was just a little wounded and confusion littered my thoughts for a few days. I became ever more aware of that light within. the flame flickered a little bit in my moment of disregard, however, I kindled with more care than ever before.

so maybe, all I want to say is listen to that cricket.
weigh the options presented by the characters on either shoulder.
feel that light.
 pay attention to your feelings and let them be guided by that Spirit.
He's watching out for you, and He can see the big picture, so His opinion will always be superior.

tears

crying seems to serve countless purposes.

we cry when we experience physical pain.
losing a loved one makes us cry.
too much stress brings tears.
lack of sleep; the same.
sometimes we cry out of joy.
eyes well up when the Spirit is especially strong.
that salty water can even just refresh the eyes.
we know crying will invoke pity.
when life gets hard, tears express frustration.

but true sobbing? it seems to only come when the heart aches. when the pain is deep inside the soul. love hurts; and it makes us cry. those warm droplets seem to express the pain better than any words; written or spoken.

and yet, we still bother to love. at the risk of getting hurt. is it worth it? often, the argument to go on loving would seem irrational. and maybe that's what love is. irrational. no matter how ridiculous it may seem from the outside, we seek it regardless.

pain throws your heart to the ground...
but I know the heart of life is good ♥

in love, we find happiness and fulfillment. it brings out the best in us. the sun shines down on us and smiles surface so much easier! we desire more to serve those we love because we know it will make them happy. but when it could end up hurting so badly? why keep up?

because "men are that they might have joy!" rejoice. love anyway. celebrate the wonderful gem of love. yes, it's ok to cry when it hurts, but remember why you loved.
be grateful for the capacity to love.
       and to cry.
love to that full capacity.
       and cry your hardest when you need to.

good thing I got sick.

ironic, right? who in their right mind blesses the day they fell ill with a head-cold? I do. I've discovered so many wonderful things through my sickness. sitting in my room for the past 36 hours made me very aware of a few things.

1. getting smacked across the face by a wake up call isn't always very fun. but sometimes, if a lifestyle needs tweaking, an incapacitating cold might be necessary to point that out.

2. certain people are strategically placed for a reason. sometimes it's best to simply sit back and be grateful for dear friends. and if it brings tears, let the tears come.

3. God's power on Earth is real. He desires to bless His children if they will only allow Him to reach into their lives.

4. there is no one more special than a mommy. she knows precisely what to say and how to take care of her children.

I know that I know how to take care of my body. I just have to step up and do it.
My friends are the best. They visit me, and play card games with me, and give me hugs despite the slight risk.
Thank goodness for the worthy men that hold the priesthood and utilize that power to bless my life.
I love my mommy and  I'm so grateful for her constant care, even one hundred miles away.

I'm just grateful. So grateful that someone who knows better than I do is watching out for me, always.

brains for breakfast

I feel awkward about starting the blog; posting a real post. I don't know where to start.
so. I'm going to start in the middle. right now, today.
zombies. that's what I've been thinking about.

the prowl began Monday morning. you think I'm kidding. I'm not. ok. so they're not real zombies. about eight-hundred people signed up to play an epic game of tag. humans armed with nerf guns fought off brain-hungry zombies looking to tag them.

a sudden change overcame campus. no, brains weren't really being eaten. astounding things started happening, however. the first encounter I had changed my status to zombie. that's what happens. you don't exactly get a second chance. I started running, realizing that this zombie was desperate to tag me. I was just another number to him. a statistic that no one would ever look at. kill number 3? 4? who knows. he was so intent on getting to me and once he did tag me, he smugly demanded my identity so he could claim the victory. c'est la vie. or rather ... c'est la mort. and so began my life as a zombie.

how is this a blessing anyway? well I promise it's there. secretly. I began to notice how little things can alter a friendship in a blink of an eye. suddenly, I wasn't invited to dinner because I was considered a "threat." in the game. I was a threat. real conversations ceased, because all we knew how to talk about was the game. story after story. each encounter had to sound more exciting than the last. I hated that. the adrenaline of running away exhilarated everyone. a new drug. (we don't even do drugs...) having died early, I simply sat back and watched my friends die off, one by one caught by the growing horde of zombies. I became an apathetic zombie, sickened by the serious comments about how one friend intended to kill another. real friendship didn't cease but the different dimensions of friends were certainly confusing... it's so interesting how a simple game can have such an astounding psychological effect!

I'm just grateful for real life. how sweet it is to be blessed with a real personality, with real friends, and my own train of thoughts and motivations. I am me and I wouldn't want it any differently. I know it's all fake, but the realities of it are a little frightening; they're intriguing.

why should I start a blog?

why now?

my new life has begun.
because everyone else is doing it.
my hands ache to write and my mind to think.
it sounds fun.
because the more I write the better my ideas get.
use up brain space
to creatively express myself.
just to say I have one.

because.
isn't that enough? just because.

and so, here it is. my blog. (: