winter song.

Have you ever made a snow angel?

Sometimes my little brother and I would make snow angels. All it takes is laying on snow covered ground and moving your arms and legs up and down. Once you stop moving and look up at the gray sky, everything seems to be really still. That's my favorite part. The stillness. I love the way snow makes everything quiet. The smell of the cold air, the falling flakes that cover every last piece of earth, the quietness of it all: that's where the magic is for me.

I adore snow. And I miss my little brother. 

a full minute.

When it's bright outside and you're walking some place you've walked 1,027 times before do you ever close your eyes? You know, as you take those steps that are as familiar as the smell of grass. Or a cold glass of milk. Or any other small comfort that maybe you never thought of before. Sometimes I do it. Close my eyes as I walk. To feel the warmth on my eyelids from that strong sun of ours. And what can sometimes feel like the unsuspecting best part is when I open my eyes again. Everything, the whole world even, is brighter than it was before. And when that happens, that extra brightness, I smile to myself and feel less silly for having closed my eyes in the first place. Because I realize, in that moment, that small bit of darkness is all I really needed. It is all I really needed to brighten my world a little more. If only for a slight second.

And if you were to add up all the slight seconds. Maybe someday, if I keep closing my eyes sometimes while I walk on those bright days, I'll have a full minute of extra brightness. Imagine what I can do with that. A full minute of extra brightness? Something amazing, I think.

things to say.

It has been a while.
And lots has happened.
Lots, I tell you.
Good things. Surprising things. Happy things.

Life has happend, I guess you could say.

And I meant to write, really, I did.
I started many words, statements, paragraphs.
Put together, they might someday equal something great.

But sometimes I forget to have the time for things
like putting words together.
Which is something I miss.

So, for right now, the best I can come up with is this:


"it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were suppose to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic."

Because I just can't get it off my mind.
It is a quote from a favorite movie.
One that I have posted before.
And for some reason, it has made more sense to me in the past couple of months
than I ever thought it could.

This is all just to say:
I'm back.
And I'm planning on staying a while.

praising the insignificant.

Last night we went to look at the stars because it said stuff online about atmospheres and meteors and things falling and seeing lovely things and the sky .
But the sky was half-way covered with clouds.
The thick gray kind.
The thick gray kind that warm the city up.
The thick gray kind that prevent you from any sort of star seeing.
(it was almost like the smell of snow. almost. the snow is coming soon...and the thick gray clouds is how I know).

This morning I woke up really early, before any color was in the sky.
My dreams still close from sleep.
I sat in my living room and from the corner of my eye, that color began to show up.
It started out cool and slowly lit on fire.
"Red skies in morning, sailors fair warning"
repeated in my thoughts
as I sat there. Studying.
Or trying to.

And while sitting there I read something about "praising the insignificant."
How, in being an honest person, you give praise to what is seemingly insignificant.

That lingered in my thoughts (the ones full with red skies).

By praising the significant,
don't you give it significance?
By writing something down, complimenting it, noticing it,
don't you give that
thing
(whatever it may be)
power?
love?
worth?
meaning?


The sky set the leaves on fire. And my window was a picture of all that is significant.

you know those moments when

you don't really want to be there, but
you go
and then it turns cold and gray
and you kick yourself for going
because you're in a hurry
and someone tells you to paddle
and then that doesn't matter
and then you actually like it
and you forget for a little while
and the rain starts
and its those big round drops
and you keep paddling

and all of a sudden,
there's the magic.
The foggy kind. Sunshine, rain, and river included.
The kind that makes you not even realize how great it all is, because you were hit in the head with it. Out of no where. On a Monday.

Then it smiled at you through the raindrops.

While you were wearing a life jacket.

on the art of: loving me.

 If you are going to mention my looks, tell me I'm beautiful.
Not because I'm pretty, but because you like the way my hair looks when I've done nothing to it at all.
Or the way my eyes go kind of crazy sometimes. 
Don't say special words too frequently, but don't make me wonder either.
If I want to dance, dance with me.
Never tell me I'm perfect, and love my flaws as you do the good.
If I'm sad, turn on Sleepless in Seattle or Breakfast at Tiffany's.
I like the idea of doing nothing together.
Though, I'm keen on spontaneity too.
Take me on drives and let me be dj.
On road trips, I sing Wicked, you're welcome to join.
Don't ever take me too seriously. (And just laugh when I do it to myself)
Let me tell you stories or worthless facts or my literary ideas. Pretending to be interested is all I really need. 
I find nothing quite as romantic as just thinking about me. In the smallest of ways.  
You'll find out quickly there is nothing more important to me than my family.

I believe in magic, in romance and in the good sides of people.
And eventually I get around to being optimistic.

The song "She's Got a Way" melts my heart.
If you played it for me [with me in mind], I'd think seriously about  marrying you.

you are my sunshine.

I go to school. I read Jane Eyre in the sun. I listen to Songbird on repeat. And I ride my bike.

Dear Summer 2011,
I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. I feel like there is something different about you. The good kind of different. And I must say: you're exactly what I've been looking for.

yours,
molly jane

PS. Last night I fell asleep next to the river and under the stars. I woke up to mooing cows. On the drive home "Something Like That" came on the radio. Cheers to the first day of you.

a princess worth waiting for.

I just watched Tangled for the fourth time since I've been in Texas. (each time with different people)
One of my favorite bloggers posted this a couple of months ago and every time I see this part I look a little closer at the goodness of it.

"You okay?"
"Terrified."
"Why?"
"I've been looking out of a window for eighteen years, dreaming what it might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it's not everything I dreamed it would be?"
"It will be."
"And what if it is? What do I do then?"
"Well that's the good part I guess. You get to go find a new dream." 

Call me what you will: but oh am I a dreamer. That's why Tangled and I have the relationship we do, and I do take these words to heart.

PS. My favorite watching companion? 3 and 1/2 year old Kate. She's one of the prettiest girls you'll ever see, Rapunzel is her favorite princess, she sat practically on top of me the entire movie, made sure we paused it while we ate, kept telling me to turn it up because everyone was being too loud and told her mom she and I were best friends when they left. Love her.

because there was sunshine. (and the semester is over)

I love many things about summer. Especially since I've gone to BYU.
I love that for me, it starts in April. (Always in time for my birthday)
I love that I can read whatever my heart desires. (I even have an [unfinished] list)

**I've never read Jane Eyre but I feel like I should...

and rereading Harry Potter 7 seems appropriate??

Feel free to offer more suggestions.

There are certain things about Summertime that I just love. 

Sunglasses are probably my favorite accessory, to go along with bare feet and no makeup.
My mom and I like to sit on my driveway on beach chairs (and if we listen hard enough we can hear the waves...or at least we pretend to)
I like the way my skin smells after it has spent too much time in the sun and the way it looks as my freckles begin to pop out.
Being able to see the stars every night and gaze at them (without shivering) is the kind of magic I wait all year for.
Happy Hour at Sonic (Cranberry Limeade).
Bike rides up the canyon.
Reading outside in the sunshine.
Tubing down the ice cold river.
Driving around with the windows down.
Wearing sun dresses and jean shorts.

In the Spring air I can smell Summer.
And even though I love Winter (snow is kind of like family), I can't wait for the heat.

if you recite poetry to me, you'll be my hero.

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

My professor always whips out poetry and quotes
by whatever author we happen to be discussing at the time.
He does it from memory.
And not only that,
but the way he says each word,
each phrase,
is like it really means something.
Something real and good and magic.
Like if I don't let the words soak into my brain
I would miss something crucial
to my humanity.

I WHISPERED, 'I am too young.'

And then, 'I am old enough';

Wherefore I threw a penny

To find out if I might love.

'Go and love, go and love, young man,

If the lady be young and fair.'

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,

I am looped in the loops of her hair.

 

O love is the crooked thing,

There is nobody wise enough

To find out all that is in it,

For he would be thinking of love

Till the stars had run away

And the shadows eaten the moon.

Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,

One cannot begin it too soon. 

 

My friend asked me to day why I love English so much. 

I mumbled some incoherent and cheesey answer. 

It didn't really help him to understand. 

(I don't like being put on the spot)

So. Even though he won't read this...

It is moments like these (the poetic, magical ones)

that make me love English the way I do.

Because I have inspiring teachers who help me to understand real life

like it isn't real

and also like it is.

Because studying English brings beauty into my life.

And helps me to see not just the black and the white 

but all shades of gray. And purple. And blue. And red. And green. And yellow. 

Because I feel like reading a good piece of literature 

brings out the goodness in people. 

And there are so many better reasons than this,

but in simple terms, 

it is magic to me. 

 

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”

Roald Dahl 

 

 This has nothing to do with my post. But my post is long. And this picture is also kind of magical.

poems by william butler yeats

miracles.

A few months ago I started reading Peace Like a River and on the third page of the book I read a few paragraphs that just stuck with me from the moment I saw them. I haven't been able to get the words out of my mind. I fell in love with them a little bit. (Sadly, I haven't had time to read more than a few chapter out of this book...) I have been needing to share it. So, please read.

"Let me say something about that word: miracle. For too long it's been used to characterize things or events that, though pleasant, are entirely normal. Peeping chicks at Easter time, spring generally, a clear sunrise after an overcast week--a miracle, people say, as if they've been educated from greeting cards. I'm sorry, but nope. Such things are worth our notice every day of the week, but to call them miracles evaporates the strength of the word.

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave--now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth.

...People fear miracles because they fear being changed--though ignoring them will change you also...No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here's what I saw. Here's how it went. Make of it what you will."

I like that this quote mentions Lazarus. His story happens to be my favorite miracle in the New Testament. I love Christ's compassion. The love he has for Mary and Martha. For Lazarus. He cares deeply for the situation and you can tell how much it hurts seeing his friends have to go through such pain. It's beautiful.

I have always been fascinated by miracles. The beauty of them. The sacredness of them. The way they are rare and humbling and divine. I think part of this may have to do with the struggle of my birth. I always loved it when my mom told the story when I was younger. I wasn't breathing when I came out. Extremely sick, saved by a man who just happened to be at the hospital at two in the morning and who just happened to see the emergency call for help (whatever the special light/code is at the hospital). He was the specific doctor I needed. He had the kind of skills that would rescue me.
In the story my mom tells, she never forgets the prayers that were said.

And how the nurses dubbed me Miracle Molly. Because, my life truly was a miracle.

Had the circumstances been slightly different in one way or another, I would not have made it.

I'm lucky. No. I'm blessed. To have a mom who tells me stories like this. Who points out the important parts of life. And who sees Heavenly Father in everything.

I adore the fact that the quote above talks about miracles in such a different way.

Fear of change. 


Make of it what you will. 

she's a married woman.

My best friend was married today. And this picture basically sums it all up.

I love her. 

(and Eric too)

As you can tell, he loves mine and Hayley's relationship (the stare down) 

Weddings are wonderful.

I love love.

The new Mr. and Mrs. Markus are perfectly happy and crazy in love.

(that's the way it should be).

look for it.

"I wish you a story with a happy ending...and the wisdom to look for it."

-my sassy girl
(if you haven't seen this movie, you should watch it)

happy thoughts

It really, really does.
And yes, I will be in LONDON for this premiere. Be jealous.
And yes, I will be leaving for LONDON in 53 days. Not bad at all.
Sorry Provo, I won't be missing you too much.

Does the trailer to this give you chills?? Me, it does.

Maybe the cutest thing ever? I forgot how awesome this movie is.

Hahahahahhaahaha. This is one of my favorite (if not my favorite) SNL skits. It always makes me laugh. Out loud. It never gets old. (That was for you Casey).

I know, I do lots of cool things with my time.

remember me.

"Whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it's very important that you do it. Because nobody else will. Like when someone comes into your life and half of you says you're nowhere near ready, but the other half says: make her yours forever."
.

"Love's involved with spending time together, but spending time apart, can lead to loving even more"
.

"If you could hear me, I would say that our finger prints don't fade from the lives we've touched."

quotes

to no home I'd ever known.

"it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were suppose to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic."

How does this happen? Is it real? The magic part?

I feel as if I've been brainwashed into thinking things are supposed to go a certain way. But then, some people tell me that real life isn't like the movies. Others tell me it really does go that way. They say "you just know". "It just feels right". "Everything is so perfect".

Do you really 'just know'?

This stuff gets curiouser and curiouser to me.

Sometimes I feel as if I'll never know. I can hardly ever make up my mind as it is. But knowing something like that, with such surety?

Kind of big deal that is.

just sayin'

speckled with stars.

"It's lovely to live on a raft. We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened."

-The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

photo

a little fall of rain.

When I was five I used to watch Les Mis (the 10th anniversary concert edition) over and over again. I'd go over to my neighbors house and I would put on my own performances of Castle on a Cloud (I dreamed of being Cosette). Emily (my neighbor) fully encouraged this dream. With her encouragement I've dreamed of Broadway since childhood...too bad I never followed through. Ha ha ha. Cosette was my ultimate career goal, but Eponine was my favorite. How can you not just wanna cry when you hear this?? And On My Own. Oh dear. It is beautiful.

Plus you can't forget about Bring Him Home....if you've never seen the version I've been speaking of...do yourself a favor and watch it.

My little brother and his choir sang a medley from Les Miserables last night and all I wanna do is watch this. The whole thing. All I can think about is how in just a few short months I'll be able to revel in this beauty, the real live beauty, in London. How magical does that sound? Can't wait to cry...and be amazed.

I love my mom for teaching me to love this (because she loves it oh so much).

he knows me.

The past few weeks (due to a rs lesson...or a lot of thinking...or a love for life)

I have been in love with the idea that my Heavenly Father knows me.

He knows me so well.

He sends me people.

The best kind of people.

Sometimes I feel incredibly lucky to have such people in my life.

Then I realize...I'm not lucky.

I'm blessed.

I'm blessed, and He really does know me.

He watches out for me.

He knows I couldn't make it with out certain kinds of people.

So He sends them.

He sends them to me:

To stretch me.

To show me things.

To teach me how to love.

To teach me how to be loved.

To allow me happiness and fun.

To get me through the awful times.

I love these people. All of them.

Everyone seems to come in at the perfect time. Fitting in just right. Like another piece to my life.

I love how everything works out.

I love that Hayley and I used to meet in the double doors during recess to discuss our need for new friends. And how we used to be a packaged deal. And that regardless of boys, school, and time, we're still the best of friends.

I love that I met Rachel when I hated BYU and had no friends. And of course we met in the lunch line. I'm also happy she didn't get creeped out when we exchanged numbers to go on a road trip to St. George (thank you Vaughan and Caleb for being the connection to make this possible).

I love that I was heart broken when Whitney had to be the one leaving my new job and how it was the best thing ever when she came back. I'm pretty sure we were made for each other (as friends of course). And that she moved into Rachel's apartment.

I love that McKenzie just so happened to be Rachel's roomie and best friend. And as everyone is getting murrayed, we're going away. (thank you Nate for bringing us together {closer than before}}.

keep it forever.

Do you ever see something beautiful and you just wish so badly that you could lock it in your head and keep it forever? That your mind had it's own memory bank (like a digital camera) for pictures that you want to stay. For scenes you never want to forget. You could just snap it and memorize it in perfect clarity.

Photographs are brilliant for moments of nostalgia, but it wouldn't be nearly as wonderful as being in the moment again. You can only capture a small rectangle of what the world really looks like.

You can't absolutley know {or remember} what it smells like. Or what it sounds like. Or what it tastes like.

Right now I'm looking into a courtyard on campus. Snow is floating down so quietly. So peacefully. Nothing is sticking but still they fall. The large white snowflakes. Gliding and spiraling. Scattered and random.

I love that where I live has everything. I get cloudy gray mornings in the winter (that I find more beautiful than most give them credit for). Mountains loom over the city, giant and surreal. On cold mornings I see my breath as I walk to my first class.

I walk by a million different lovely scenes every day. Always hoping to absorb them all in, trying hard not to breathe out for fear of losing the magic.