What is lasting?

What really has the capacity to weather the storms of life and pass from generation to generation?  It certainly causes one to wonder sometimes.

One of the themes of my life has become the preservation of memories.  I have a room devoted to the effort of maintaining photographs and life stories to be passed on to the next generation.  I have bookshelves filled to capacity with scrapbooks chronicling the lives of Brian and Ardith Haws and their posterity.

Are these efforts in vain?  Does it really matter?  Will these books ever be pulled from the shelves to come alive for future generations?

I guess the question really comes down to this:  Can we leave our mark on the world?  Do our lives and our stories matter enough to try and preserve them?

I read something that prompted these questions.  "But whatsoever things we write upon anything save it be upon plates (of precious metal) must perish and vanish away..."

So the things I write and send out into cyberspace surely don't qualify as having any lasting value.  Then why do it?  I do know that a few of you are reading my ramblings, and certainly more than have ever looked at the scrapbooks that are gathering dust on my shelves.

Which, then, are of more value?  Or are they equally fleeting?

The same scripture from above that spoke of things perishing and vanishing away, also spoke of the need to "write a few words...which shall give our children...a small degree of knowledge concerning us."  (Jacob 4:2, The Book of Mormon)

I will take the challenge to leave a few words to my future grandchildren so they might have at least a small degree of knowledge concerning me.  And as ever, I will try to preserve them in some lasting way.  But I suppose most of my efforts will probably rot in attics or basements 'til someone has the courage to haul them off to the landfill.

Perhaps therein lies the difference between "the small plates" and "the large plates".

What are my small plates?

Life is good...

for little Evelyn Haws!  She may be the most spoiled baby of all time.

How many 3-month-olds get to hang out on the beach in Hawaii?

And it took me 40 years to get to the Polynesian Cultural Center, but Evelyn gets to enjoy it with her Grandma and Grandpa Smith, surrounded by her little cousins.

Not a bad life.

I'm glad to see that Evelyn loves to travel, enjoys a fine meal now and then, thinks the beach is awesome, and loves to get dressed up.  She seems to be taking after her Grandma Haws pretty well.

And next month, it will be MY turn to spoil her rotten!

My life is spent...

sitting behind the piano.  And I guess that is great most of the time.  I love playing the piano.  I enjoy being able to help add music to church services and participate in musical numbers as an accompanist.

My only regret is that I miss the opportunity to sit and enjoy the vocalists to the fullest extent.  I can't see their faces and I don't usually hear the music to its full advantage.

Yesterday in Sacrament Meeting at the Singles Ward, my two lovely daughters sang a duet together.  I enjoyed rehearsing it with them.  I enjoyed helping them prepare for it. I enjoyed the convenience of having an "in-house" accompanist saving me the trouble of having to arrange for someone else.  I enjoyed the push it gave me to learn a rather difficult piece of music.

If only I could have watched their faces...

Not afraid to say...

THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES! 

So Brian and I took someone's tickets to the Portland Opera last night that they were unable to use.  I was really excited.  I have always wanted to go to the opera but have never dared bring up the subject for fear of blatant rejection.  My dear husband has been persuaded to try a lot of my interests, but I felt like maybe this one was too much of a stretch.

I envisioned an evening of clever sets, incredible costumes, and most importantly beautiful music that would sweep us up into the emotion of the story, leaving us exhausted from the experience.

Well, I'm not afraid to say it:  it was NONE  of those things.  It was dismal in all regards.  And it COULD  have been lovely.  It was a modern adaptation of the ancient Greek Tragedy, Orpheus and Eurydice, a story of sacrifice and eternal love.  The setting was some non-descript modern apartment with characters dressed in boring everyday clothes, aside from the Princess of Death who wore a fur coat.  Not kidding.  Pretty lame.

Where I was expecting amazing music, there was nothing memorable about it.  I think if I heard a soundtrack of it today I wouldn't be able to tell you it was from that opera. 

I suppose maybe I wasn't adequately prepared to appreciate its subleties.  Perhaps being an opera novice I didn't know what to expect and shouldn't judge it against my preconceived notions.

Hogwash!  It was an auditorium full of people that had high expectations and I am convinced we were not the only ones to go home disappointed.  We may be the only ones not afraid to expose it for what it was.

Will I give opera another try?  We actually discussed that on our way home last night.  Absolutely yes.  But it will be one in which we research the production.  It will be one with clever sets, incredible costumes, and yes, most importantly, beautiful music that will sweep us up into the emotion of the story, leaving us exhausted from the experience.

Last night left us exhausted too.  But in the kind where you would give anything to be home in your bed!

It's time to...

regain control of my craft room.  Yikes!  I think the walls are going to come crashing down on me soon, and I will be found buried under the most beautiful pile of buttons and bows and pretty paper.

The problem is that my room has become the dumping ground of "stuff" that nobody knows what else to do with, you know the "I'll find a place for this later" kind of thing?  What used to be a place of sanctuary and creativity and renewal has now become just a source of frustration.

I am determined to reclaim that space, and return it to be my favorite place in the house.

Why would I blog about something like this?  So you can hold me accountable!

If I could go back...

to Athens, Greece, I WOULD!  I fell in love with the place.  Even though it is a modern city,  it feels a little like stepping into a timeless place, lost in history, where the ancient coexists effortlessly with the present.

It calls to mind the words of John Keats:  "A thing of beauty is a joy forever:  Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness."

So many beautiful sights that are courageously withstanding the test of time and the elements.

One of the highlights was certainly going up to the Acropolis to see the Parthenon.

It is the perfect vantage point for seeing many other significant landmarks such as the Dionysos and Odeon Theaters, the Ancient Agora, or marketplace, as well as the Plaka, which is the older area of the city located just down from the Acropolis.  We were able to spend time there, walking the narrow cobblestone streets, drinking in the authentic flavor of Greece, and being introduced to what has become a favorite cuisine.

Another highlight was Mars Hill, where the Apostle Paul preached his famous sermon on the Unknown God to a culture that had based its whole history on the worship and elevation of  some very flawed gods and goddesses. 

It was a day that was filled with history, beauty, and discovery that could have easily been stretched into a week.  Perhaps someday I will return to Athens and be able to get my fill of this amazing place.  One day only served to whet my appetite for more.

It's Not Easy...

Being Green.

Sometimes the most profound wisdom comes from the most unexpected places.  I think we could all learn a thing or two from Kermit the Frog.

Kermit battled with his color. "Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.  When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow, or gold, or something much more colorful like that."

 I believe we all battle something about ourselves that is a difficult fit. Certainly everyone has some challenge to bear that makes us different somehow, or draws unwanted attention, or finds us lacking in some way.

"It's not easy being green.  It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things, and people tend to pass you over 'cause you're not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water, or stars in the sky."

We usually come to uneasy terms with our challenges simply for survival's sake.  We find ways to accept our differences while still pining for what we feel must be a better way.  And usually it doesn't take much as a reminder to have our esteem plummet and yet again we find ourselves struggling with questions about who we are, what we are, why we are...

Kermit eventually comes to resolute terms with himself after some soul-searching and a pep talk, and calling to mind the positive things about the color green.

"But green's the color of Spring, and green can be cool, and friendly-like.

And green can be big like an ocean, or important like a mountain, or tall like a tree."

True peace comes only after acceptance of who we are.  And really, not just acceptance but truly embracing who we are.  Is it possible to look at ourselves with a new set of eyes and truly appreciate our own uniqueness?  Kermit did.

"When green is all there is to be, it can make you wonder why. 

But why wonder?  Why wonder?

I am green, and it'll do fine; it's beautiful!

And I think it's what I want to be."

My name is Ardith.  And it'll do fine; it's beautiful.

And I think it's what I want to be.