Yesterday during our first Regional Reconnect our Team Leader, Belkis, lead us in an interesting exercise. Our task was to write a poem. A poem about where we come from. She provided a few guidelines and told us to pull inspiration from foods, sights, sounds, smells, sayings, and people from our past.
Belkis brought up the point that before we can fully understand or figure out where we're going (or want to go) in life, we have to understand who we are, and where we come from. My first reaction to this exercise was to laugh, as you'll always catch me saying "I don't remember anything from when I was little! Ask me what my third grade teachers name was, just watch, I wont remember it!" Yet as I sat there brainstorming, the most random memories started popping up.
I'm the kind of person who will be 7 pages and 3 hours into one journal entry, because after a good day, I'm convinced that I have to write down every little thing, so that not one detail is forgotten. But sitting there surrounded by 10 other fellows, the memories and thoughts that came to mind weren't those of "Perfect days." They were abstract things that popped up out of nowhere. Little things of which no journal entry was ever dedicated to, but somehow my subconscious decided for me that it was something worth remembering.
So much of our lives is dedicated to photographing, posting, or writing about things we hope to remember. Yet despite our efforts, memories will always be forgotten, photographs will be accidentally deleted, social media platforms soon abandoned, and journals possibly lost. So it was nice to take a moment to dig deep, open that little black box that we all hold within our hearts, and let the memories trickle out. Some good, some bad, some so strange you question how you even remember them, and some so happy that it's obvious why you keep them tucked away.
If you have a second I highly recommend jotting down an few of your own thoughts. Where you come from is incredibly important, no matter where you are in life! So without further ado, here's mine:
WHERE I AM FROM . . . WHERE I AM GOING
I am from … The sun glistening on soft dew and sparkling off sharp frost.
I am from … The sting of scratched ankles when walking, and breaking through deep snow.
I am from … The sounds of slamming doors and holes kicked through walls.
I am from … Deviled eggs and rice with a side of goop.
I am from … Long road trips and eating grapes in the back of an old motor home.
I am from … Kadee threatening to use the untiled shower downstairs.
I am from … Christmas Eve pajamas, and Christmas morning orange rolls.
I am from … "We are Daughters of our Heavenly Father who loves us, and we love Him."
I am from … The 13 Articles of Faith.
I am from … The smog and smell of no burn days in late February.
I am from … "I cant find the Little Dipper!"
I am from … Kenny Chesney, Tim McGraw, and dairy cows.
I am from … County fair honey butter scones.
I am from … Loosing long games of Clue, LIFE, and Monopoly.
I am from … Sitting around the table waiting for more pomegranate seeds.
I am from … Praying every morning and night.
I am from … Otter Pops and spitting up canned corn.
I am from … Hiding Q-Tips around the house and spilling nail polish on my carpet.
I am from … Cuddles with my Mom, Salt Lake City drives with my Mom, and "Kara can we please go to the movies" —with my Mom.
I am from … Play sleeping, bobby pins in outlets and Cotopaxi with my sister.
I am from … Hamburger patties with ketchup and microwaved green beans.
I am from … I Love You-s
And Thank You-s
And I'm Sorry-s
And Super Smash Bro Marathons.
