Snow Day

Mother Nature's signature move for South Dakota is a spring blizzard. Not wanting to disappoint, she delivered one to the state yesterday and last night. My office has a simple, amazing policy: if the Brookings School District cancels school for the day, then our offices are closed, regardless of SDSU's call.

In the 14 months I've worked for my organization, I've had roughly a week's worth of snow days - more than I ever had in elementary, high school or college. Pierre doesn't have a bus system; Brookings does, therefore more careful when the snow falls. Sometimes I question their decision, but never complain. This is the snowfall outside my apartment this morning:



Not too frightening, but I won't take my chances. Instead I'm going to warm up with a cup of coffee and these bright flowers I bought the other day.





I plan to spend the day writing non-blog things, watching a documentary, reading, designing blog items, messing around on the guitar and maybe enjoying some pasta and wine. It shall be a lovely day. For all of you that are working or attending classes, my condolences. Enjoy Mother Nature's bliss.

Cheers.

Confidence from a 17-year-old boy

“Just go talk to her.”

To my left was a group of high schools boys dressed in blue warm-up pants and pullovers. They are not talking about me, I reassured myself, I’m old and they don’t know me even though I know them.

Redirecting my attention to my notebook, I tried to make first-mile predictions. I was covering the Idaho State Cross Country meet and picked out specific points to watch the race and record places and times. I already watch the runners cross the first stretch and was waiting at the 1-mile mark to see how the lineup had changed in the five or six minutes since I last saw them.

The whispering boys had already raced and were waiting to cheer on their female teammates, who were aiming for their fifth state championship, the only female Idaho team to accomplish such a record. With plenty of time before the runners approached our spot, one of the boys approached me.

“You’re that reporter from the Journal, right?” he asked timidly.
“Yup,” I said as alarm spiked through my body. Usually when people preface a conversation with this question, it means they have something to complain about. I’d already been chewed out by one athlete this season and wasn’t really looking forward to another.
“That column you wrote last week …”
Crap. Here it comes.
“ … it was really good. The same thing happens at our school and you made a great point.”
Wait, what? He liked one of my columns? My columns are awful and never really make sense.
“Actually, I like everything you write. You’re my favorite reporter.”
I’m not sure what expression I wore at that moment, but I can bet it was utter shock.
He continued on about his plans to pursue a journalism career. Our encounter was cut short because the lead runner was coming over the hill. I thanked him, wished him luck and returned to my notebook.

That 17-year-old kid gave me a piece of hope. In the four months I’d been at the Journal, I felt like I hadn’t accomplished anything or even developed an understanding of my job. I assumed I was the worst reporter to write for the Journal; not just bad, but the worst. Nothing came really smooth and I doubted that I had written even one piece that someone could label as “really good.”

Yet, this kid admired me for just showing up and doing my best. And maybe my best actually contained talent. Regardless, I was able to go to the office that night with a bit more confidence. Plus, it was nice to brag a bit to Dan, Kellis and Tim, although the affection of 17-year-old cross country runners wasn’t something they craved.

Last week, my boss gave me a book, “Dream It. List It. Do It!” The book is mainly startup kit to creating life goals. It includes several lists of potential goals, quotes, how to accomplish certain goals and examples of people pursing their life lists. It’s kind of an amazing book and I carry it in purse so that I can pull it out if I have a moment of free-time. Example: I made my way through three sections while sitting in my car waiting for Melissa to change before our dinner date Friday.

Each time I read it, I make notes in the margins, circle certain goals and write in additional ideas as they come to me. One particular goal that stood out to me was “Making the most of my natural beauty, talents, and skills; sharing them with others, and nurturing these aspects of yourself.”

Once I read that, I immediately thought of that 17-year-old boy. No matter what I do on this Earth, it’s an absolute necessity that it allows me to help someone else. It occurred to me that my writing actually does or could help people. At the moment, I had my ultimate life goal: help people through my writing.

Now, how I am going to go about this? Don’t have clue, but it’s possible. Maybe it means writing a book or freelancing or producing heaps of news release each day or just maintaining this blog. Whatever the means, I now have an ultimate ending and I’m ready to work to get there. There something in my gut that makes me believe this is what I meant to do this on Earth.

I guess it’s time to go do it.

Collage

Sorry I haven't blogged in a few days. I've been busy with a project, but I promise to post soon. In the meantime, here is a collage I made as part of the time-consuming project. This collage represents who I am and who I want to be. Most of the art came from old Veer catalogues and other random magazines collecting dust in my apartment. I have to send the collage off, so I took this picture to remember it. Hope you like it.

P.S. Notice my byline at the top. I thought that was a pretty rad addition.

Oh, happy day

Many of my blog posts lately have been rather disheartening as I try to figure my life out. In reality, I'm an actually a happy person, even though my posts don't always reflect that. As a writer, it's natural to be inspired when emotion, whether positive or negative, is high. Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, even once said that depression is just part of the trade.

That being said, I'm going to shed more sunshine on this blog. I'm borrowing this great idea to show what makes me happy. Thanks, Jen! Hope this shows that I really do know how to smile :)

Things that made me happy today:
- Tea in my Dunder-Mifflin mug that Chris gave me
- Sitting cross legged
- Not wearing socks
- Random text messages from friends bored at work
- Bagpipes
- Noticing the weight I’ve lost from giving up beer for Lent
- "Don't need a reason" by Beth Orton
- Emails from my mom
- Amy allowing me to borrow her guitar so I can teach myself to play
- Micah's request for a life chat
- Blogging
- Emails from relatives
- The white building with red stairs across the alley
- The book Sherry gave me
- Playing spoons with seventh graders
- "In my life" by The Beatles
- Phone calls from Austria
- Having the same chat through a 40-minute long distance call that lasted three hours in Taco Johns
- Nachos
- "This I believe" on NPR
- Dreaming up ways to improve my blog
- Knowing that there are lovely people in this world that love and care enough to read this blog.

Cheers.

Banned

While on a business trip, I met a charming New Yorker who was employed in another city relatively close to mine at the time. On my last evening in the city, we spent the night at the bar of gin distillery exchanging questions about past and current lives. We lost track of time in sports, politics and journalism conversations. Although it was our second – and last – meeting, I was fascinated with the situation. Our beginnings are and our ending will be different, but for the moment we endedup in the same place as we chased dreams.

The New Yorker was immensely intrigued with South Dakota and solicited information about its people, monuments and way of life. Fondly, I answered his questions, commenting on how much I missed the people back in the Rushmore State. Thanks to Facebook, though, I was able to keep in touch relatively easy. He told me it had been nearly a year since he logged on to Facebook. How absurd, I thought, as he explained why. “I want to focus more on my relationships here. I want to focus on the people right in front of me,” he said. Still, I wasn’t convinced it was something I should practice.

Last week, I had a fight with social media. I found information that led me to believe that someone I trusted lied to me. However, it was an absolute assumption without any real truth behind it. Still, it really upset me and my mind ran constantly, dreaming up new theories. Without any real fact, I couldn’t approach the person. I had to take what the person did tell me at face value, and maybe be in a better position later to ask questions. Till then, I had to let it be.

The morning after the discovery, I remembered what the charming New Yorker told me that night in the yellow-lit bar. Maybe the best way to handle this situation is to focus on what is right in front of me, and not squabblings on the internet. Anytime that I usually spent on social media would be redirected to the people in front of me, and through that, I would be refreshed on what is important and what is not.

So, I went cold turkey and made no announcement of my decision. For seven days, I did not Facebook or Tweet. I did answer Twitter direct messages, but that is because those come to my phone and I can answer them like a text message.

The first few days were shamefully difficult. A friend in Austria had phoned me, and I missed it. The only way I knew to communicate back was Facebook, but it would have to wait. I regularly Tweet during Jacks’ basketball games and missed two during my absence. It was noticed by a few faithful followers. And a coworker thought I was ignoring her when I didn’t respond to a post about getting together this weekend.

After about the fourth day, it wasn’t so bad. I put more attention into my blog and called more friends to hear about their day over the phone instead of through Twitter.

My sabbatical ends tomorrow, and I feel that I’ve accomplished my goal. I’ve come to terms with the situation and have put it behind me. I’ve also feel more connected to life around me than I did a week ago. It's a great tool to stay connected with friends and family, but you can't let it distill real life, even when you find troubling information.

Still, we can't ignore social media's magnetism. The charming New Yorker eventually resumed life on Facebook, even requesting my friendship. It's just too darn fun to give up permanently.

Prayers and positive thoughts needed

I have a favor to ask of all my readers. Please send prayers and positive thoughts to the Fargo-Moorehead area. My youngest brother, Jason, goes to school at Moorehead State and the area is expecting a severe flood. All surrounding high schools and colleges have cancelled classes Monday and Tuesday so that students can help fill sand bags.

Jason said the flood is not exepcted to hit his house. However, he lives in the basement and, if it did, all of his belongings would be lost. My family prays that doesn't happen, but you never know.

So, I ask that you please think about all the families and students in the Fargo-Moorehead area. I pray that when the river crests they are well prepared and can beat the flood.

Love you, J.

Jason and I

The Storm

My office window has a nice view of the western sky and I often lose my thoughts and concentration in the clouds and trees staring through that piece of glass. This evening, as I was finishing up some non-work related items, I got caught up in watching the storm clouds outside my window. Dark, smoke-like clouds sped through the sky, as if they were heading to a specific location and didn’t want to waste a moment of time getting there. The swift rain appeared to be more stream-like than drops. Then the sky flashed and a clunker of thunder followed seconds later.

Mother Nature's performance tonight reminded me of the countless storms I watched roll across the Missouri River from the comfort of a lifeguard chair. The thick gray sky would give the river a deep-blue sea appearance and the chlorinated pool a soft sparkle. We lifeguards carefully watched the clouds, hoping for that beam of lightening that allowed us to furiously blow our whistles and scream "Please clear the pool." As soon as all the patrons left, we dressed in sweatshirts and towels and struck up a game of cards or grabbed seats to watch the storm from the pool house. It was during those stormy days that my coworkers became life-long friends.

Every thunderstorm takes me back to those summers, like a love song to my first kiss. Life was carefree as a 17-year-old lifeguard, although I didn't feel that way at the time. My years at the Pierre City Pool are some of my fonder memories as a teenager, and lately, they proved to be great lessons and guidance in my mid-20s.

One relative memory comes from my last year at the pool. Rachel – who completed lifeguard training with me – and I were collectively watching two children and casually talking. We were discussing the next major event in our lives - going to college. Of course, I was Brookings bound with a degree already selected. Rachel also had decided on a field of study, but was headed further east to Valparaiso. We talked about leaving Pierre and our high school lives behind. We were both ready for bigger things.

Looking into the water, I saw my reflection. I glanced across the street at my elementary school, which hadn’t changed since the day I was a pony-tailed kindergartener. I breathed in the last moments of sunshine, and then that now-familiar feeling hit me. It was time. That summer, I decided right at that moment, would be my last at the pool.

The next spring, the internship I had counted on fell through and I didn't have a summer job. I already told the director I wasn’t coming back to the pool, but called her one weekday afternoon frantically begging for my position back. She said I would have to apply and interview like everyone else. So, I decided to drive back to Pierre for the weekend to interview.

The night before the interview I realized I couldn't do it. I told myself it was time to leave and I couldn't return. I had to move on to something else and every bone in my body told me so. Without a backup, I met with the director and withdrew my name from consideration.

It's not like me to make a rash decision without plan, but it wasn't rash. It was right. Still, I didn't have a job. Frightened that I wouldn't have an income for the summer, I focused on the faith that it will all work out. It was all that I could do to remain sane.

Less than a month later, I was offered an internship with the Pierre Capitol Journal. I always liked reporting, but that summer, I fell in love with reporting. That job was the beginning to most reporting jobs I've held since. No other job could've been more perfect for me at that time in my life.

Even though I still subbed at the pool in the evenings and on the weekends, it was a hard adjustment. Even my poor boyfriend at the time had to put up with a few breakdowns over how much I missed the pool. Still, I never regretted my decision.

Now, I find myself in a similar situation. I know that it is time to go, but I have no idea what I'll do next. It's such a scary place to be in. My next move consumes most of my thoughts, and until the storm and this post took away my attention this evening, I was busy making preparations for a different life.

Yet, I've been in this spot before and, as tonight's storm reminds, it will be OK. I might not find what I'm looking for right away, but when I do, it will be absolutely right. All I need to do is have faith and let the storm roll.

P.S.
Here are a few text messages I received from loved ones tonight(after I wrote this post mind you). They are quite fitting and proof that I'm very loved.

"Go after what you want. Take risks and go after the things you want in life."

"Don't just sit and watch things you want go by. Reach out and try and grab them. You won't know until you try."

"The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you."

Forgiveness

A gorgeous day, good friends and tremendous amounts of merriment. It’s a recipe for happiness, but it wouldn’t bake for me. Instead, my attitude was swallowed in self-destructing thoughts of the past and future.

Yesterday was a pretty big day in Brookings. All of Main Street shuts down, people from many of the surrounding states breakaway from their lives for a weekend in Brookings and the local saloons sell ungodly amounts of beer. It would’ve been a good day, if I hadn’t been so occupied with things I can’t control, things not relevant to my life that day. At one point in the day, one of my friends even said, “Heather, you just need to let all of this be.” Of course, she was right.

However, I didn’t feel much better this morning. My thoughts bounced back and forth and brought me to tears and my knees. Craving peace, I decided to skip church this morning to have a more intimate chat with God. I needed to sooth my restless mind and soul.

Grabbing a journal, a prayer book, my Bible and a blanket, I sought comfort in McCrory Gardens. The grass was still wet from the day change, so I planted myself on a stone walkway. Closing my eyes, I focused on the cool breeze that began to wash away the agitation. The birds’ song and passing cars played a melody strong enough for me to concentrate. And the sun’s brilliant rays beat sense, hope, peace, forgiveness and love into my blood.

The words that I spoke out loud weren’t scripted or preempted. In fact, I’m not sure where they came from, but it didn’t bother me. I pleaded to God. I didn’t want an unworthy situation to control me anymore. I hated not having a life direction. I desired strength and courage.

Then my eyes opened. The leaves were dancing for me, the barren trees swaying to a tune of comfort and the truth appeared. It wasn’t people or my environment that were defeating me, it was me.

I am the reason for my unhappiness. It’s me that puts up the road blocks, drains my optimism and constantly criticizes. To bring peace to my heart, I realized in the isolated park this morning, I needed to forgive myself. So, I did.

Through tears, I told myself it was OK to feel the way I did. It was OK to have doubts. It was OK to want something else. It was OK to be happy with what I have now. It is OK. I was letting go, refusing to let my troubles control me like this again. And I forgave myself for letting them do so in the first place.

Forgiveness is an elementary lesson, but one that always needs reminding. My attitude about myself will not change over night, but through forgiveness, I’ll get there. And eventually, I’ll find peace. Part of me already has.

“I don't know if I continue, even today, always liking myself. But what I learned to do many years ago was to forgive myself. It is very important for every human being to forgive herself or himself because if you live, you will make mistakes- it is inevitable. But once you do and you see the mistake, then you forgive yourself and say, 'well, if I'd known better I'd have done better,' that's all. So you say to people who you think you may have injured, 'I'm sorry,' and then you say to yourself, 'I'm sorry.' If we all hold on to the mistake, we can't see our own glory in the mirror because we have the mistake between our faces and the mirror; we can't see what we're capable of being. You can ask forgiveness of others, but in the end the real forgiveness is in one's own self. I think that young men and women are so caught by the way they see themselves. Now mind you. When a larger society sees them as unattractive, as threats, as too black or too white or too poor or too fat or too thin or too sexual or too asexual, that's rough. But you can overcome that. The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself. If we don't have that we never grow, we never learn, and sure as hell we should never teach.” - Maya Angelou

Not forgotten

One morning, as I was getting ready for work, I stopped for a moment to stare at a picture on my wall. It’s a framed map of Idaho that was given to me from my Pocatello friends when I moved back to South Dakota. Each of them had picked a particular spot of the potato state to sign and write well wishes.

I reread each of the messages, which I’ve done several times, and grew a bit sad. Most of them I hadn’t talk to in months and had no idea what was happening in their lives. Feeling very disconnected to the people who were prominent in such a significant time in my life, I wondered if they had forgot about me. Sighing, I turned around and headed to work.

That night, something sent me into a fit of anger and I was a mess. I let it be known to the Twitter world, and moments later Kate sent me a text message. She was concerned. I couldn’t talk at the time, so I promised an email later. Later, she tweeted me to see if I felt better. Thanks to her compassion and that of my other really amazing friends, I was. Sticking to my word, I wrote her a four-page email depicting the situation. It was good to get it all out, but it felt even more soothing to send it to Kate. She replied with a sweet email the next day, and just seeing her name in my gmail inbox was a gratifying.

Kate and I


The next day, I was still a bit upset, but trying my best not to think about it. My phone began to buzz and I leaped up from desk when I saw the name on the caller ID. It was Dan. We hadn’t spoke in months and much has changed since then: he left the paper, moved to Washington and proposed to a lovely girl from Spokane. We didn’t talk for long, but caught each other up on life as he reminded me that he’s moving back to Minnesota this summer. We talked a bit about sports and bantered like usual. He even made a cat analogy. I smiled for an hour after we hung up.

Dan and I


It’s incredible how God will give us just what we need when we need it. My newest friend and I were just discussing that sometimes you can go for months without speaking to a friend, but that doesn’t mean the friendship has died. If they are real friends, you can pick up at any moment. Kate and Dan are real friends, and our lives may never align again, but I’ll never forget the impact they had on my life, in Idaho and South Dakota. I always consider them friends, and would do anything to help them.

In truth, they haven’t forgotten about me and hopefully will never. I shouldn’t have been so crazy to think such a foolish thing.

(Oh, and South Dakota friends, don’t worry. I’ve been working on a great post about you all and it will be up soon. Kisses.)

A note worth sharing

A dear friend told me something that I thought could probably go in some book of the world’s greatest quotes about friendships or a $14.95 Hallmark gift book. He is a beautiful writer and his talent shines in this statement. I hope that there are people you feel this way about and that feel this way about you. I do; it’s my greatest blessing. Because I love him so, I had to share this with you.

“Remember, it’s a small world, and if it’s meant to be, the world is even smaller. I’m meant to be your friend, and the world is so small that I AM always there for you.”

Now, go tell that to someone you love.

The Pink Skirt

A bad evening led to a sleepless night, and when I woke up this morning, I needed something stronger than coffee to get me through day. Maybe a hefty helping of self esteem could do the trick. Smashed in between sweatshirts and dress pants, hung my piece of hope for the day.

One day while grabbing an assortment of groceries and household items, a bright pink fabric shouted out as I hurried past it. I actually did walk by, but decided to turn back and see what this pink was about. It was a simple cotton skirt, mostly solid with three stripes of varying shades of pink lining the bottom. I don’t buy new clothes very often, but decided just to see how much this elegant skirt would set me back. $7.00. I took it home that night.

There is something about wearing a skirt that puts me in a good mood, but this particular pink skirt just makes me giddy. I feel gorgeous, feminine and graceful when I wear it. It goes well with black tights in the winter or my white legs in the summer. Pair it with a black silk top or white nit blouse. Not much can take away the appeal of skirt.

After last night, I needed to feel beautiful and this skirt never fails. People notice the skirt and usually comment on its loveliness, even though I’ve worn it before. Even walking in this skirt is better than walking in most of my other clothes. It’s just that good.

The skirt can’t solve my problems, but it can brighten a situation. Sure, that is corny, but life is hard, so why not absorb the sparkling spots? I’ve decided that I would rather fight life’s battles in this pink skirt than anything I own. The power of $7.00

May the Luck of the Irish be with you

Ah, to be Irish. In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I wanted to share with you my favorite Irish blessings. Have a wonderful St. Patrick's Day and remember to keep the luck of the Irish with you at all times.


May joy and peace surround you,
contentment latch your door,
and happiness be with you now
and bless you evermore.

May God grant you always,
A sunbeam to warm you,
A moonbeam to charm you,
A sheltering Angel so nothing can harm you,
Laughter to cheer you,
Faithful friends near you,
And whenever you pray, Heaven to hear you.

May the road rise up to meet you,
May the wind be ever at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields,
And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

May we live in peace without weeping,
May our joy outline the lives we touch without ceasing,
And may our love fill the world, angel wings tenderly beating.

Hearts of Space

Sometimes, it only takes a small, simple thing to remind of us of who we really are.

The last year or so has been a journey of self realization, and at one point, I thought I had myself figured out. But I lost sight of that glimpse and have struggled the last few months trying to find me buried beneath constant thoughts and doubts.

Tonight, my soul was restless. I was working on a design project and watching a movie, but I couldn’t feel comfortable. The movie I was watching was terrible (P.S. Don’t rent Pineapple Express.) and I couldn’t force out the creativity for my design project. I felt useless, bored and bleak.

Not really in a socializing mood, I reluctantly picked up the phone when a friend called. He was on his way to Brookings and said that the founding Hearts of Space members were planning on a comeback party tonight and invited me to attend.

Hearts of Space is a tradition a few friends started last summer. NPR broadcasts a show on Sunday evenings called “Hearts of Space.” The music is a bit tricked out, but suspiciously soothing. Someone heard the show and decided that a fire in a parking lot, hot dogs, beer and friends was the best way to enjoy this music. Thus began Hearts of Space parties.

Basically, a group of us just gather around a radio and a fire and conversate on any topic and enjoy the sweet sounds space-age music. The police have been called a few times and obscure phone messages once trumped the music, but each party brings something special about it.

Because of South Dakota’s particularly snowy winter, the parties have been put on hold. We tried one in doors in the fall, but it wasn’t the same. On the first reasonably nice Sunday, it was time to resume the parties.

Only five of us showed up for this particular party, but we were all reminded of the glory we missed the last several months. As we joked around the glowing orange fire, I was calmed. A piece of me that had been missing was suddenly found. Something felt so right to be with those friends and in that moment. It was the perfect remedy to my earlier restlessness.

No matter what this week brings, all is well right now. I’m peaceful, thanks to Hearts of Space.

A Saturday-afternoon run

My body lay nestled in a warm ball of fleece blankets on my plush couch. Slowly, I started to reach consciousness as the urge started to flow through my body. I knew the feeling would come this day; it was just a matter of when.

The sun warmed Brookings to 52 degrees today, perfect running weather. I spent a good portion of the day hanging out with my mother and brother. We ate, shopped, shopped and ate again. She had only come for the day, so when she left, I decided it was nap time. The week wore me out a bit and I haven’t been sleeping well, so I took the opportunity to just relax and rest my eyes. That run would come later, if it at all, I assured myself.

Deeply, I fell away from reality and into a comfortable place. My nap allowed me to finally shutoff my continually streaming thoughts. It would’ve been easy to sleep the night away, but my body had other ideas.

About two hours later, it was time for that run. I changed my clothes, put on my running shoes and grabbed my iPod.

The first few steps felt freeing. It wasn’t too hot or too cold. The slightly brisk air provided my ideal running temperature. Experience runners say that you can predict the type of run you’ll have in those first few steps, and I smiled knowing I would be in for a good one.

However, my attitude changed after a block or two. My thoughts started racing again and life worries trumped peaceful weather. I keep telling myself that I need to leave Brookings, but what the hell have I done about it? Nothing. I just bitch and all these things I say I will do never happen. My ideas never go beyond ideas.

As I continued to beat myself up over my faults, I realized I hadn’t really gotten very far in run; just a few blocks is all. Something would have to change in order for me to go through this run, so I gave myself a break and started thinking about other things.

I looped around campus and was reminded of the person I used to be when I was a student. A girl who didn’t take no for an answer and believed in herself. One who dreamed big dreams, and although she hasn’t accomplished many of them yet, she wasn’t afraid.

Just before the midway point, a sharp pain struck the back of my knee. It was enough to make me stop and prop myself against a tree for a few minutes. The pain lingered and I was carried away in “what ifs.” “What if I tore something?” “What if I have to have surgery? I can’t afford that.” “What if I can’t run again?” “What if I can’t do this marathon?”

Finally, I put an end to the maddening thoughts and restarted my run. The first few steps hurt, but the sting worked itself out. I was back into the groove and lost track of where I was. Less than ten blocks away from my final destination, as song came across my iPod that forced me to increase speed. The beat was good, but the lyrics reminded me to be that fearless girl. The song spoke of someone being true to themselves and no one else. Although I’ve heard this song several times, I realized something upon this listen.

“I’m Heather Mangan and I can do anything that I want,” I said confidently to myself.

All these negative thoughts and doubts need to be hushed, because I am a good person with some talent. I have the ability to do great things, I just need to believe in myself. The “what ifs” could no longer rule, just assurance.

Before I realized it, I was home. I don’t remember the last part of myself because I was planning exciting things, and dreaming without doubt. I looked at myself in the glass door as I entered my apartment. I took a big breath and smiled. Life really will be OK.

Patience

Anyone who knows me knows that patience is not a virtue I posses. In fact, I could be one of the least patient people in this world. I’m very much a plan-and-let’s-get-it-done kind of girl.

Patience, though, is a gift and those that do have it can concur more than us restless souls can. My patience is being tested in several major ways right now, and goodness, does it sting. Each new day is a battle with time and faith. No struggle is easy and I must constantly rely on everything inside to get over something that would be easily conquered with a decent amount of patience.

Tonight, I prayed for patience and trust. With a bit of patience, I believe my attitude would be quite different than the current one I show the world. And trust really coincides with patience. You can’t have one without the other.

I decided to post a few of my favorite quotes about patience to inspire myself, as well as others who lack a little p in their world. May we all have the patience it takes to overcome and achieve what is in our hearts.

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions” – Rainer Marie Rilke

“All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope” - Alexandre Dumas Père

“Let nothing disturb thee; Let nothing dismay thee; All thing pass; God never changes. Patience attains All that it strives for. He who has God Finds he lacks nothing:God alone suffices.” - St. Teresa of Avila

“The keys to patience are acceptance and faith. Accept things as they are, and look realistically at the world around you. Have faith in yourself and in the direction you have chosen.” - Ralph Marston

Dancing

Today, the South Dakota State University women’s basketball team made history. But that is far from a new habit for the Jackrabbits.

According to one ESPN writer, the Jackrabbits are the story of the season. For five impatient years, SDSU waited its turn to matter. Moving to Division I was more than the appropriate move for SDSU, but there were growing pains. Still are, but in the Jacks’ first year of eligibility, they destroyed any lingering doubt.

The women’s basketball team literally turned the national spotlight on SDSU. When the Jacks first made the move, just to see ‘SD State’ roll across the bottom of the screen on ESPN was a delight. This year, though, the national media caught on to the Jackrabbits’ story. ESPN started the season with a profile before the Cancun tournament, The New York Times sent its nearest reporter to the NDSU game and The USA Today featured Jenn Warkenthien on its sports front a few weeks ago.

The Jacks pounded through opponents this season, losing only two of their 30 games. They beat Wisconsin, Missouri, Gonzaga, Utah, Oregon, Minnesota and each team in the Summit League. The climbed to 14 in the ESPN/USA Today Poll and 17 in the AP Poll.

And, today, in their first attempt, the Jacks won the Summit League Championship Tournament, earning a berth to the NCAA Tournament.

After a week’s vacation, I skipped work today (with my supervisor’s permission, of course) to watch the championship game against Oakland University. I wanted to see history. The Jacks had a shaky first half, trailing by 14 at the break, but came back with vigor, their normal style of play, to win 79-69.

As the clock whaled out, joy settled in my heart. I was sitting in the arena with some of my best friends, watching my alma mater become something I always knew they could be, the greatest. But then another feeling struck my stomach, one I felt before.

The last time that particular feeling came was minutes, maybe even seconds, after the Jackrabbit football team came back to beat NDSU in the Fargo Dome in the Dakota Marker Championship.

In both instances, I reveled in both wins, but saw them as indicators of a new life beyond SDSU.

Everything I am today is because of that university and the way it shaped me. My job, my friends, my passions, my opinions all commenced at SDSU. For a safe choice, it was one of the best I ever made.

Yet, it may be time to leave. My job, as it is related to SDSU, is more satisfying than any job I could imagine two years out of college. I love being part of making it a better university, but there comes a time when you have to let go of what you love.

It’s hard to explain that feeling in the arena today. At the moment, I had all that I wanted, but it was as if the Jacks win said “OK, now you can go.”

The Jackrabbits transition to Division I came with trials and tribulations that only the athletes and coaches can truly understand. But maybe it’s symbol of what I would endure if I left and followed my destiny.

Setbacks and hurdles would appear, but the right amount of determination, courage and patience can overcome them. But I can win the big game, too. I know I can.

I might be trying too hard to link Jackrabbit’s success to my own life, but I strongly believe parallels exist.

No matter what comes about in my life, at the end of this day, my team – The Jackrabbits – are on top. And that is all I need to sleep well tonight.