Be Still My Soul

Well, after returning from a much-needed weekend in Seattle, I have just a couple things to say.

1. I love my boyfriend. Yep, it's blog official love.

2. I love Seattle.

I was honestly surprised at how fantastic it felt to be back in Washington. When I left, I was grateful for my time there but relieved to return to the land of mountains and sunshine. I didn't feel like my connection with the city was that deep. I appreciated Seattle, but it was a stopover, a happy footnote in the Adventures of Cat. But oh, how wrong I was. As soon as the plane dipped over the water, I was amazed. I could breathe again. My shoulders relaxed. My heart was lighter. True, a lot of that might have to do with the incredible company I had this weekend, but for the first time in a long time I felt calm. Relaxed. At peace.

I don't feel at peace in Provo. I can't feel at peace in Provo. From my first moment back in Utah Valley, my stomach tightened and my esophagus closed off. A constant tension developed between my shoulder blades, and I can't seem to shake this ever-present feeling that my being here is wrong. I'm not comfortable in my old stomping grounds. Every nook and cranny of this place holds haunting memories of last year, memories that make me full of hate and anger and nausea. Memories I would give anything to completely obliterate so they no longer infect my soul.

Don't worry. I'm working on it.

Add that personal angst to the burdens of student teaching, and the last month has been anything but a cake walk. In short, I needed this weekend. I needed it very badly. Every single moment was perfection. From my first foray into Canada, to the over abundance of delicious breakfast foods, to long walks and quiet conversation, this trip was everything I could have hoped for.

And now I have new faith. Faith that I can endure these next few months. For whenever I get soul sick, whenever the heartache and thousand natural shocks of this woeful existence start bearing down on me, I have a healthy store of memories and dreams to feast on. Memories of bridges and trees and cliff-sides. Steak tacos and jazz in the streets. Gelato and ocean views. Church meetings that lift my spirit and inspire me towards good. Lessons that preach of charity, lessons that strengthen my belief. Mysterious cemeteries with broken stones. Watching movies and finally breathing easy, finally being able to relax.

All of this was set against a background of held hands and constant love. Yes, I might whine and bemoan my sorry lot sometimes, but no longer. Now I have something to remember. How amazing this life is, a life that can be so difficult but offers such blessings in the midst of darkness.