Embrace this Day

Every now and then you have a Sunday that is just exceptionally great. This week, we had a Sunday school lesson on agency. And it was incredible! I never really realized how important agency is. I guess I always knew it was important, but I'd never really thought about it before. In Moses 4:3, it says, "Wherefore, because that Satan rebelled against me, and sought to destroy the agency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, and also, that I should give unto him mine own power; by the power of mine Only Begotten, I caused that he should be cast down." Wow.

It was a great experience thinking about what influences my choices. And how I can utilize the gift of agency to better myself. Here is a great video the teacher shared with us. It is about six minutes, but is incredible, well worth your time watching it. It shares a great message on what to do with our lives and in what manner to live them.

Of Characters

My mom and I realized something over the Christmas break: that she likes books for their plot lines and I love them for their characterization and writing style. I love reading about a character whose traits fit perfectly. I think of characters as 3-D puzzles with unique curvature, outjuts and inlets, each their own shape. These characters have so many talents and weaknesses, fears and quirks, that you'd think all the descriptions of them would bulge out awkwardly and make a ragged outer surface on the container that couldn't contain. But, they don't. Somehow, they don't. The surfaces are smooth and the containers seem to have the ability to be all-encompassing. There is no limit to a person.

Once you know the character well enough, you know what makes him upset, what types of people he gets along with, what makes him nervous, and what his dreams are. There comes a point in the book when your response to his action is, "Oh, John, he would do that.." or "Of course that bothered him.." And you don't know this because you've seen him before. He's not a cookie-cutter character we see over and over again. Nor did you predict his action because it fulfilled something that needed to happen in the typical storyline and was therfore assigned to a character--any character--regardless of whether or not it's actually something the character would do. No, you can predict him because you understand him. Because looking at his traits you see hundreds rather than twenty. And they all connect and interconnect.

Your character John has some of the same components as does Huck Finn and Frodo Baggins and Scarlett O'Hara, but none of these characters have every one of his components. Someone may have a dominant personality that is very like the person John feels he needs to be and tries to be when Sarah is around. But the characters are still different. Nowhere in the world is there another like John.

Sometimes these different characteristics seem as if they could never describe the same person. But they end up doing just that, going into the same person. And they do so unexpectedly smoothly, like those smooth curves of the 3-D puzzle. They go together differently in John than anyone else. And their arrangement in John fits perfectly, just like their arrangement (amongst other descriptors) in Huck Finn fits perfectly.

Now, characters can be introduced in many ways, but they all fall under two main methods. The author can list traits flat out or can show you traits through events. An example of each is below. The two quotes were taken from Little Women, one of my favorite books of all time with perhaps the greatest character development of all time.

"Poor Meg seldom complained, but a sense of injustice made her feel bitter toward everyone sometimes, for she had not yet learned to know how rich she was in the blessings which alone can make life happy." (Little Women, p35)

"That night, when Beth played to Mr. Laurence in the twilight, Laurie, standing in the shadow of the curtain, listened to the little David, whose simple music always quieted his moody spirit, and watched the old man, who sat with his gray head on his hand, thinking tender thoughts of the dead child he had loved so much. Remembering the conversation of the afternoon, the boy said to himself, with the resolve to make the sacrifice cheerfully, 'I'll let my castle go, and stay with the dear old gentleman while he needs me, for I am all he has.'" (Little Women, p136)

The latter exerpt is one of my favorite passages; the imagery and characterization is so beautiful to me. So many things about the characters of Mr. Laurence and Laurie can be pulled from this. The two unwind from a long day by listening to Beth play; we know Beth is precious to Mr. Laurence because she reminds him of his child and that she is precious to Laurie because he loves each of the March girls; we also see that the music is a means of relaxation to the two, which, in the case of Laurie, who loves to play and compose, is no surprise, but in the case of Mr. Laurence, who seems to wish Laurie'd play less, is a surprise. Laurie standing hidden in the curtain, listening to "the little David" is not only a beautiful image, but shows a bit about his character and his relationship with his grandfather. We learn Laurie must feel strongly toward those with whom he discussed in order to want to change (March girls). Mr. Laurence's character and occasional harshness could be due to the death of his beloved daughter. . .

Obviously I prefer the second method. There is so much to deduce. And often times I can see more or less--or simply differently--than someone else. Therefore, the Laurie in my mind is different than the Laurie in yours. And, of course, my Laurie is based off of me--my experiences and my preferences--as is yours based off of you. So he means so much more to me than yours would to me. And he reminds me of me. And I LOVE that. That's why we read. To create our own.

You can give me the most boring story ever written and as long as I can fall in love with characters that are beautiful in their complexity and with a writing style that is effortless and artistic, I'll love it forever.

Welp, that's that...

There are No Ordinary People

There is a C.S. Lewis quote I LOVE. By far my favorite. I found it in high school when I was preparing a talk on charity and showed it to my Dad. We've loved it ever since. For Christmas, my Dad bought me Weight of Glory, the book it's from. I can't wait to read it and find more inspiration. Here is the quote; I've added the bolding and italics. Let me know what you think!

It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously—no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner—no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbour he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat—the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.

Longing for the Imagined

One of my favorite songs right now is "Liz On Top of the World" from the "Pride and Prejudice" soundtrack. The following is what the song sounds like to me, not what's actually going on in the movie. I love the high point of the song, which moans an ache of yearning that sounds as if it has, until this point, been suppressed. And now it is released and sings out its refrain. It's not a sadness, but a longing for something that can't be had. This something is so ideal, so perfect, so beautiful. You can't fully comprehend it; it is only an idea, a wish of a world and of a life that you can only gaze at through a foggy glass window. A window that is far in the distance; a distance that can never be crossed. Because that distance is the dichotomy between reality and things that will not be.

No, this isn't a sad post on my dreams that will never be. Nor are these the feelings the character feels as the song is playing. It's just what the song sounds like to me. I love listening to music--to gentle lyrics, to the sighs and moans of a violin, to the whispers of strings and the hopes of the winds--and hearing a story that only I can hear. That means one thing to me at one time, and something different at another. I love hearing a story that probably wasn't the story intended by the composer but speaks to me far more personally than his would have. Another beautiful longing song I'd recommend is "Rose Garden" from the "Becoming Jane" soundtrack. Oh, and "First Impressions" from the same is a great song as well. Yes, I love sad, beautiful songs :) "Liz On Top of the World" is below. I couldn't find "Rose Garden," or "First Impressions" but they're on iTunes. I bought "Rose Garden" and think I listened to it 40 times in less than a week!

PS There's a new Great Quote to the left. And... I haven't changed my room picture yet! Terrible.

A Happy, Smiley, Rainbow Day!

My freshman roommate, Kristin Long, and I used to wish each other a happy, smiley, rainbow day each morning as the other parted. I loved it!

Well, today was a happy, smiley, rainbow day. It was great! It was just one of those days where you're overwhelmingly happy and appreciative of how great life is. The main things on my mind right now that I just LOVE about life:

My French class and the French language

Short fingernails

Roommates, previous and current

Seeing old friends

Getting closer to new friends

Letters

Blogs

Families

Dreams and goals

Anatomy

Starting to dance again

People who are understanding

Conversations

Standards

Sore muscles

Humanity

The gospel

Thinking music

So today was great. And tomorrow will be as well :) I love life. Life loves me! And we both love you! Way to be so great!

Remodeling

My blog has been remodeled! I like the new background a lot. And the little details ( like the little border under every title). And you will notice there are new things on the left side! The quote will be changed every month or so. And I highly doubt I will change the bedroom picture every day. But I will try! There are also labels; I categorized the posts. So check it out! Welp, hope you like the new aesthetics! Because I like you.

My Dad

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is my dad's birthday, so I decided to write down some of my favorite attributes and memories about him.

My dad smells like sawdust and paint, stainer and lacquer thinner. His hair is soft and wavy, dark brown. His face, neck, and forearms are a reddish brown, darkened from many days in the sun. He works with wood, turning cabinets into works of exquisite art. His hands are dry and calloused, permanently stained, with deep cracks and cuts old and fresh, scars of wounds super-glued together. They are rough but held my five-year-old hands softly. He speaks in a gentle tone and is polite to those around him, perfectly mild-tempered. He makes faces in the mirror while getting ready and nudges me in the ribs with his elbow when he wants me to laugh at one of his jokes. Dad has never spent a lazy day. Every evening, after a long day of hard work, he walks up to the house, stomps the sawdust off his boots, shakes it out of his hair, and walks through the front door. A few hours later and he is sitting on the couch with his reading glasses, a red pencil, and his scriptures.

A few of my favorite memories with Dad:

He took me to the Nutcracker when I was in 2nd grade. My first exposure. I have no idea if he liked it or not, but I LOVED it and love that he was willing to spend time doing something he wouldn't particularly enjoy in order to spend alone time with me.

Dad and I used to play a hand game in church. He'd hold his palm open and I'd poke it with my forefinger and try to withdraw it before he caught it. If he caught me, it was my turn.

I remember one time my Dad got on me about how I wasn't spending me money very wisely. It was definitely something I needed to hear, and was delivered kindly (as always) but wasn't received humbly. A few hours later, he dropped me off at the airport for a tour I was going on and another few hours later I got off the plane with a message on my phone from my dad, telling me how great he thought I was and that he loved me. His voice was soft and I could hear he was sorry for things he didn't need to be sorry for. He said if he were told he could have ten girls guaranteed to be exactly like me, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He tells me that often and I know that he honestly means it.

One year while preparing a talk for church, I came across a C.S. Lewis quote on charity. I showed it to my dad and we've both loved it and quoted it ever since.

I am kind of scatter-brained and often make mistakes besides having the best of intentions and my dad knows that. Sometime within my first few weeks with a license, I scraped a car while trying to park. A friend and I were going to the movies at a particular theater with parking spots so thin that they (still!) make me shiver. Well, I called my dad and his voice was kind and he said he'd be there right away. I know I was all apologies and he reassured me that it was ok, that things like that happen. I know it was with complete sincerity. Once I got there, he told me to go in with my friend to the movie and that he'd put a note and info on the car for me and re-park the car. I have to admit, I've had more car issues and he is still, along with my mom, completely understanding and un-accusatory. They both laugh and relay driving incidents they'd had in their younger years.

On another driving note, I got my license on a Thursday, a day when both my parents worked. They carpooled the whole day so I could drive the car to school and dance practices. It may seem trivial, but they knew it meant a lot to me.

Any time I have a talk in church, I show my dad all my quotes and he sends me a few he likes.

I took the ACT when I was fifteen and had to go to a school three hours away to take it. My dad gave me his whole Saturday. After driving up, he drove around and found things to do during the hours I was taking my test. On the ride home, we found a cute little sandwich shop and had a great time together.

My dad's family has a family home video of him and all his sisters when they were young. The background music for the video was the Beatles. So to this day, when I hear the Beatles, I think of my dad and of what's important in life: family.

I'd like to point out a lack of a memory: I have NEVER IN MY LIFETIME heard my dad raise his voice. He's never had a temper, never sworn, never been angry.

When we lived in Texas, my dad would take my brothers and me around for a bike ride in the evenings. I never thought anything of it other than that it was a fun time with us kids and Dad. But now I suppose it was also for the benefit of my mom who was going to school full-time and waitressing on the weekends.

My dad loves reading Louis L'amour novels. Most years, I buy him a book for Christmas because it's sure to please. Well last year, I got him Louis L'amour's autobiography. My dad sent me an email a month ago telling me he'd finished the book and loved it. When I came home for Christmas he showed me some of his favorite parts and quotes.

When we were younger, my brothers, Dad, and I would play an amazing game. Dad'd be the ruler of the bed and my brothers and I would try to get on. He was so strong! But gentle. We NEVER won!

Younger years again: he'd lay one of us in his lap in the blue rocking chair and buzzzzzzz his fingers as bees around us. He wasn't allowed to touch us and we weren't allowed to laugh. Again, we NEVER won!

My dad doesn't critique me. He laughs at the state of my room, but that's about it. He sees me as perfect. Or at least, never says anything about me that would suggest that I was any less than perfect. He has an artistic eye, so always notices when someone's eye is bigger than the other or their nose is crooked or their ears are uneven etc. I remember asking him as a teenager what my facial feature flaws were and he said I didn't have any. And I don't think he's ever said anything about a need for improvement personality-wise either. Well, I know me and you know me and we know together that I am far from perfect. But Dad knew me even better and knew that in order for me to be the best I could be, he needed to tell me that I was already there, rather than how much further I had to go.

I was looking for Happy Birthday cards for dads in the BYU Bookstore and, while reading through them, started tearing up! In the middle of the bookstore! There were a lot of birthday cards to dads from daughters that expressed the beautiful bonds that develop between the two. Dad, I love what we have.

Happy Birthday. You are incredible. Thanks for being the perfect dad that Dallin needed, that Ty needed, and that I needed. Our family is so blessed. Much love,

Morgan

Demain, or Tomorrow

I took a French Literature class last year and LOVED it. My favorite reading, and current favorite poem, was written by Victor Hugo, Demain, dès l'aube. . . (Tomorrow, as Early as Dawn. . .) Hugo was a leading author of the French romantic style. These artists longed for the days of Napoleon, when the monarchy kept order and the institution of religion was respected. The majority of romantic writings longed for the past, but some looked to the future, l'avenir. Past and future were preferred to the present, which inflicted melancholy, weariness, and disillusionment upon the young French, a condition coined mal du siècle, literally maladie of the century, the "spiritual sickness" of the Romantic era (Professor Ceri Crossley, University of Birmingham). Nature, solitude, love lost, and introverted thoughts were the usual subjects of their works. Demain, dès l'aube. . ., composed of most Romantic symbols, is a well-known Romantic piece. Be sure to click on the video so you can listen to it in French while you're reading it. I highly recommend it. I'm a little biased, but I think it comes across most beautifully in French, especially when listened to, in addition to reading the poem. The translation is below the French text.


Demain, dès l'aube...

Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai par la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.


Tomorrow, as early as dawn, at the hour when the countryside becomes white,
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain.
I cannot stay far from you any longer.

I will walk eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Without seeing anything outside of me, without hearing any noise,
Alone, unknown, back curved, hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like the night.

I will not look at the gold of the evening which falls,
Nor the faraway sails descending towards Harfleur.
And when I arrive, I will put on your tomb
A green bouquet of holly and flowering heather.




Hugo wrote this in response to the death of his daughter. Tragic and so beautiful. Demain, dès l'aube . . . .

Tricksy Trees!

I love Cottonwood trees. Do you want to know why, my friends? Well, first of all, they're on our lot back home, along the creek. So it reminds me of my home and my family.

I love the summertime when everyone is outside and you hear their loud voices down the street at the park. When it smells like hosewater and sprinklers, hot asphalt and trampolines, and everyone is smiling. When you can take the time to sit down for a moment in the outside air and bask in your contentment, in the golden sunlight, in the wildflowers, in the caress of the wind, in the hydrated thickness of the air, in the whispers of the trees. As you're laying in the soft, green grass, you see little white puffs of cotton float by. They drift nonchalantly along. To me, the air seems enchanted, magical as these breaths of white glide on the air currents.

And, oh, the leaves on those trees. When you listen closely, as you often can during those summer months, you will hear the wind caress the leaves. But it's not your usual 'wind rustling through the trees' sound. It is an enticing whisper, yes, but also a subdued energy, a tickle, as its leaves hush and laugh against one another. It's like a calm face with twinkling eyes. Eyes that twinkle not with curiosity, but with some secret they will playfully keep from you. These trees continue to charm and entice, lure and hypnotize, as they flash their leaves. I always find myself captivated. Because they sparkle. The leaves swivel at their stem and flash either side at you. And since one side is lighter than the other, you get a beautiful sparkling effect. Fascinating. Mesmerizing. Captivating. Ah! Clever tree! You got me again!

White Christmas

Oh, hey, snow...

You're back again. I'm.. glad to see you.. (happy thoughts, happy thoughts..) I realize I said some harsh things last year. I didn't mean them (little lies are ok..). But you were so wet. And so cold. And so wet. And you made me wear boots every single day. As well as a super thick coat that made me really hot whenever I was late to school. And you got kind of ugly as time wore on (no, be positive!). But that wasn't your fault. You are, really, very pretty.


I, Morgan LaRee Anderson, from this moment on, am going to appreciate the snow. No, I'm going to love it. Last year, I was not a fan. But life is a lot better when there's a constant presence of something you love rather than a constant presence of something you hate. So. You will never hear another anti-snow comment escape my lips again. In hopes of getting myself more excited for the white of the season, I am writing a few great things about the snow.

--It's very picturesque. A strong thematic element represented in many books and movies. "White Christmas," Little Women ( I know I'm obsessed..), others . . .
--It's pretty when it sparkles and when it coats everything.
--And I bought these waterproof boots that I love. So I will never be wet and miserable. And will love them and will never tire of them.
--The mountains look gorgeous-- harsh, cold, slate-colored mountain with bright white contrast.
--Skiing and snowboarding
--Some people like snow cones..
--I've always wanted to go snow-shoeing
--Polar bears and Eskimos are pretty cool. And they live in the snow.
--There's always some bizzare, never-to-happen-in-Provo chance of a snow day
--It snowed back home this year! Oh,land of perfection. If it happened there, I suppose it's ok
--Everything gets still, muffled quiet.
--Sledding and Snowmen!
--Snowflakes on eyelashes
--Sitting inside with a blanket, movie, and hot chocolate while it swirls snow outside
--The sound of it under your feet
--Theme and inspiration for great Christmas songs
--Igloos are cool
--Here are some pretty pictures of the snow and the great things that come with it. And my boots, sported by Jennifer Aniston. Yup, same pair.



Wow, that list was easier than I thought it'd be! Alright, here goes.

Cool Music Video

My roommate Cailey showed this to me. The whole thing is made with webcams. Or so it seems to be by someone non-tech-savvy like me. It gets cooler as it goes. Incredible!

Splendors of Fall

I am sitting in my California living room looking outside the window. The grass is wet and vivid green, the skies filled with whispy grey clouds, interspaced by round pearly ones, and the world serene and beautiful in its absence of the golden hue it takes when in the sun. I love Northern California. And I love it most when it's fall and when it's overcast. I guess good ol' NorCal loves me too because it gave me a present this morning--a rainy autumn day.

In light of the beauty, I am going to write a piece all about the lovely fall. But it is specific to the Granite Bay/Roseville/Loomis/Rocklin area, so parts of it may not make sense. (Burn days :) and Apple Hill)
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In Autumn, every person seems to be more cheerful, to have more energy; each is full of some excited anticipation. The earth seems to take a deep breath. It relaxes, as do its inhabitants, as it recovers from the steamy busyness of summer and prepares for the hustle and bustle of the cold, frantic winter. Although it is a lull, a time of reflection and refreshment, there is a certain eagerness and excitement to be found on the faces of passersby. When I walk from my house into a clear, dewy autumn morning, I feel as if I have also taken a deep breath, only straight into my soul where my insides are elated and ready to burst with utter contentment. And then I take that breath. As I breathe out a cloud of mist, a smile creeps onto my face and into my eyes. And I can’t get rid of it. That same feeling returns when I smell the dusty, light smoke of burning leaves in the country or see rosy noses and cheeks and bright eyes.

Trees lining the streets turn smokey red, dusty orange, crunchy brown, creamy yellow. The Wind scuttles the leaves across the streets.

I love driving with my windows rolled down; I can feel the cool air caressing my face. On autumn days, I go to get the mail, just so I can go outside for a walk. I love to feel the comfortable warmth of the sun on my cheeks. And the wind—whether it’s gentle or blustery.

The climate change brings about feelings of independence and contentment, and the events and activities that occur during autumn evoke feelings of love and happiness. There are so many activities to be done in the fall. Children visit pumpkin patches and carnivals. There they get their eager little faces painted or pick out plump orange pumpkins; they wave at scarecrows or ride on bumpy hay rides. Football season starts. Fans fill the stadium with rosy noses, scalding, steamy hot chocolate, beanies, warm blankets, noisy cowbells, and loud enthusiasm. Families visit Apple Hill. Children lie next to fireplaces and look through countless toy ads as they plan out their Christmas lists. Starbucks brings out its red holiday cups. Disneyland opens its spectacular fireworks and busy parade. And Mothers decorate their home with bright leaves, brown turkeys, cheery pilgrims, and spooky ghosts.

Halloween is a holiday that can be looked forward to for months. Sweet little children plan for months what they are going to be. I love handing out candy to all the Buzz Lightyears, “Sleeping Booty”s, ninjas, ghosts, witches, and Batmen. Halloween catches the essence of youth. The children can be whomever they want to be, and I love to see it and encourage them.

Every Thanksgiving, we spend the week with all six of my dad’s sisters and their families. We are spread all over California and Oregon and often times, Thanksgiving is the only time we see each other, aside from weddings. It is a time for people to relax without engagements or commitments. During this week, we stay up late just talking with one another, asking life’s puzzling questions and talking about whatever we want.

Fall is everything wonderful—Gentle wind and rain; cozy sweaters and warm scarves; the vivid fullness of life and family.

Happy Autumn!

Hm

I meant to publish this forever ago. It was written in to the Daily Universe:

Letter: American gridiron tackle football Wed 10/21/2009- 20:43

American gridiron tackle football is under attack, and I won’t stand for it. Tuesday’s “Prodigal sport” claimed the BYU rugby club team deserves as much attention and funding as the BYU football team. They cited the 2009 national championship team as proof that they deserve a place at the table next to Bronco and company. This is more than just a slap in the face to the BYU football team; it is a roundhouse kick to the American people, a wedgie to the Declaration of Independence, and a purple nurple to the Constitution!

Men fought and died to keep us out of the British empire, and the popularity of rugby in this country is disrespectful to those men. International rugby powerhouses include Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Wales and even England. What do those countries have in common? They are all part of the commonwealth. Why isn’t rugby popular in America? Why doesn’t the BYU athletic department add rugby to our line of already successful sports? There is neither interest nor money in rugby in America because we won that war.

American football may have roots in rugby, but with the invention of the forward pass, American football set itself apart as the greatest sport in the history of mankind. Putting rugby and American football on the same level is wrong and dishonors the 223 years of independence this great country has enjoyed. So enjoy rugby as a novelty, but do not mess with American gridiron tackle football.

Someone
Provo

Wow.

Great Short Film

Watch this! It won an award at the Cannes Lion Film Festival. I LOVE it! Thanks, Caye, for showing it to me!

Forever and For Always

My friend Melissa’s mom sings “Forever and For Always” by Shania Twain to her husband and daughters on a daily basis. Go listen to it. I think it is absolutely adorable. Like those precious elderly couples you see shuffling along, holding hands in the park. Aren't you excited for that victorious day you realize you've found someone you want to spent "forever and for always" with?

Here's a link to the song: Forever and For Always

Life is Beautiful and Led by Divine Hands and Heart

Wow. Life is beautiful. And I have so much to be grateful for.

This semester has been very difficult for me. I'm taking physics, which is very hard to comprehend and advanced french grammar, also difficult to understand. I'm working 15 hours at my regular job, and then 8 hours in the anatomy lab. I knew when I signed up that I was fully capable of doing it, but that I would need to stay on top of things (very un-Morgan, as those of you who know me are aware..) and would need a lot of help from Heavenly Father. Well, I fell behind and then struggled, unsuccessfully, to get back on top. I wasn't sleeping or exercising, wasn't taking time out for socializing or for increasing my spirituality. I kept falling asleep while doing my homework, so would wake up the next morning feeling terrible not only because I had failed to finish homework yet again, but because I hadn't washed my face, showered, read my scriptures, or said my prayers. Icky, icky times.
[I don't mean for this to be a pity Morgan. I'm pointing out the error in my perception. And I realize you all, as well as others, are going through much harder times than I was]

I still knew that life was a wonderful thing, but didn't love it quite as much as I had my whole life. Throughout high school, people told me I was the happiest person they knew. I didn't believe there was any such thing as a bad day. But this semester, that changed a little. People would ask how I was, how life was, and my answer was always "good" and it was always a lie; life was consumed solely by school and school was practically unbearable. I wasn't looking for the good things I had in my life or the good traits I was blessed with. Rather, I was focusing on that which I didn't have and that which I wasn't.

About a week ago, I decided I was going to do well on my upcoming physics exam, no matter what it took. I knew I could get a B on it if I tried. If you had asked me the first week of class how I would score on the exams, I would have laughed and said there was no way I could ever comprehend physics and would therefore fail every exam. Well, after a week of returning home at 10:30 pm, a week of practically nothing else, a week of next to zero social activity, after a good handful of skipped classes (bad!) and a Halloween evening spent in the physics lab, I took my physics exam and got an 88%! Not super impressive to most of you, but to me, it means the whole world. I never thought it was possible. But it was. And had I studied a bit more, I know I could have gotten an A. An A! In physics! Now to most of you I'm sure that wouldn't be difficult, but it was difficult for me and I am so grateful for the help I had and cannot deny the divine hand that supplied it.

I returned home last night a new person. On the walk home, I realized life will always be beautiful when there is love, the gospel, knowledge of a Heavenly Father that loves, helps, and blesses you, and music. I know there are many others and that music is kind of superficial compared to the others listed, but these were the ones I was thinking of at the time. I came home and began and submitted a project that was due at midnight. I got up and washed my face. I said my prayers. I read my scriptures. And then I got into bed. And I opened the window. And I laid my head on my pillow. And I closed my eyes. And...... I couldn't fall asleep. So I sat and thought about HOW grateful I was. For everything. It was an incredible experience. The soft, cool wind caressed my skin and carried in the scent of a still night. I opened the window further and stared out the window. I looked down at the beautiful, quiet street. I don't know why, but it was SO BEAUTIFUL to me. I saw a few windows with lights on and prayed that they weren't stressed with late assignments, but rather having fun doing something they loved. I smelled the cool crisp Autumn air I love so much. I looked up at the beautiful sky, still light despite the late hour. And I just sat there, looking out the window, looking at the street, at the houses, at the mountains and the sky. I can't even tell you what thoughts I had over the long period. I was mainly just reveling in contentment, soaking it up with deep, calm breaths, a huge smile, and satisfied sighs.
I pondered the gospel a bit. Thought about Joseph Smith and Moroni and Mormon, mostly.
And then I thought about those things I was most grateful for at that moment, and other collected moments throughout that day:

--That Heavenly Father had woken me up that morning at THE EXACT moment I needed to wake up (and has done so more than ten times in this semester alone). The number of times proves that this is no coincidence. It is SUCH a miracle. No human body would naturally wake up so early when it is so deprived of sleep.
--The beautiful weather we've been having.
--The physics TAs who explain torque and centrifigal forces and Newton's second law in a way that makes sense to me. Some are so brilliant I just don't understand anything they're saying; we don't think on the same level. But Mary, Rich, Alex, Jeffrey, and Michael all explain it in a way I understand without making me feel dumb for calling them over multiple times for one problem.
--That the physics test was postponed. It was scheduled for Monday, but Prof. Magleby postponed it till Wednesday. I'm sure that was an answer to about 30 prayers :)
--That my vocal teacher didn't chastise me for forgetting my music. And that through him, my voice has improved so I am proud of it. No, I won't sing for you, but I enjoy singing to myself. Not because it sounds particularly beautiful, but because it's not bad and it's mine.
--That I can TA for anatomy, a subject which I love with all my heart and strengthens my faith.
--That a friend gave me a lot of Conference talks that I have been able to listen to on my iPod throughout the days of the past week.
--That I have fantastic co-workers that strive to make me feel included. Even during Star Wars and zombie discussions.
--That my current and past roommates think I'm funny and not weird! Well, maybe a little weird, but not outlandishly :)
--That I have a mind and a body that work.
--That I am a woman.
--That my mother loves me and supports me and sees strengths I can't.
--That my dad, for reasons I will never see, thinks higher about me than anyone else does and has more belief in me than I ever would.
--That something I have been praying for for years is beginning to happen. This is the greatest miracle.
--That Joseph Smith prayed in the grove and brought the gospel to Earth. That I know of its truth.
--That I can pray with questions and uncertainties. And that I know my creator is listening and responding with comfort, aide, blessings, and revelation.
-- That nothing tragic has happened in my life.
--That I know people who love me and that I know my Heavenly Father and Savior love me.

There are many other things I am grateful for, but these were the ones I pondered. I lay in bed and my heart rate quickened. I was excited for today. I couldn't wait to start a new day and do it the right way. I couldn't wait to get on top of everything and do what I need to be doing.

Well, life is beautiful. Hopefully I will never doubt that again. I love the beauty of this earth. I love the gospel. I love my family, and I love you. May you have an incredible day every day!

Conglomeration

Conglomeration. What a fun word. It sounds like what it means. Anyway, a conglomeration of thoughts:

--It is the greatest thing to see a leaf fall. It happened on my way to school this morning and it was great. It falls nonchalantly despite its special beauty.

--Fall fall fall fall fall. I love it. I love it. It's just the greatest. I will write a post on the wonder of Fall in Northern California. But fall in Utah is pretty great too. To the right is a picture of the most beautiful bush in the world, spread all over Provo and bursting into a brilliant red for the fall season. I love seeing these all over. Beautiful, beautiful!

--I am in love with my physiology professor. In love. He is hilarious, brilliant, and offers lots of extra credit :) He's really easy going and shows us funny videos in class. He showed this to us yesterday. Funniest commercial I have ever seen. It's 30 seconds. Watch it now!!



--Sunday, I super-glued my hands! No, I didn't glue them together, nor did I glue them to anything, but they were covered and I'm sure anyone who shook my hand at church thought I had some terrible skin disease. It's gone now, except for a small shiny patch on one of my fingernails.

--I was SO tired Tuesday morning when I woke up and wished for another hour of sleep. But was faithful to my education, so walked to campus. I walked into class and it was empty! I tried to remember him saying class was canceled, but couldn't remember. I shrugged my shoulders and went to the Wilk to read for physiology. An hour and 20 minutes later, I realized I had gone to class an hour early. I rushed to class, walked in a half hour late, got a mean glare from my professor, sat down, and laughed to myself. Does that ever happen this far into the semester?

--Do you ever have to sit facing a certain direction? I had a lot of homework to do, so walked to a remote corner in the Wilk. I wanted to sit facing the wall so I wouldn't be distracted and so no one would recognize me (I usually love to see all you lovelies on campus, but had a lot to do!). But I just couldn't do it! For some reason, I had to face north. Why, you ask? No idea.

--There is a perfectly delightful song. "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me" by Mel Carter. Go look it up now! I LOVE it! It's my current repeat song and will be playing at my wedding.

Welp, those are my thoughts today of funny things to show and share with you. Happy Thursday!

How To

Every now and then, we do something random for no reason other than a lack of reason not to. Why not?

Well, a few weeks ago, I did just that. The result? Much amusement. If you ask any co-worker of mine, he will tell you that I'll often emit a little chuckle when reading something on my computer. All thanks to the day I decided to add a HOW TO box to my igoogle.

I changed my email and therefore went about setting up a new igoogle page. I added a weather box, a to do list (which I like very much; I'd recommend it), news updates, a word of the day, places to see, and a few other applications. I also added a "How to of the Day" because I thought, "Why not?" In that moment I didn't appreciate the gravity of the situation. I didn't see its potential for free little package gifts of happiness.

I love these How To's of the day not because I actually take advantage of them, but because the actual activities themselves are amusing to me. Here is a list. I've only had about two weeks of how to's and this is just a snippet of the many gems I've gotten:

HOW TO:

Make towels more absorbant

Treat a bullet wound

Use a plethora of apples

Throw a boomerang correctly

Decorate a gift with plastic straws

Plan a Grand Canyon vacation

Raise an Alaskan Husky

Get rid of bats

Make gummi bears

Respect yourself

Use a dash in an English sentence (I actually looked at this one and, ironically, the grammar wasn't quite accurate..)

Fall safely

Make a charm ring

Oxidize silver with egg yolks

Tell if you're watching TV in HD



I hesitate to publish this tonight, in fear of missing some upcoming greats, but had to share. The How To's come from WikiHow. So great!

Thee v Thuh

Have you ever noticed things we do in speech that we were never taught? Not as in slang, but in technique.. Here's something:

It sounds awkward if people don't use thee and thuh appropriately. I'm sure you've noticed. People usually say 'the' with a long e (ee sound) proceeding vowels (with exceptions like mute h's (thee hour) or consonant-sounding-yet-vowel-beginning words (thuh university)). Thee early bird.. Thee apples.. Thee other day... And they usually say 'the' with a short e (uh sound) before consonants. Thuh world. Thuh girl. Thuh whole city.

If someone said "thuh entire field," there would be an awkward glottal sound..

My reason for this blog: try to do it the un-done way and see peoples' reactions :)

Dreams

Well, school has started and jostled me around a bit, but I am ready for the semester. Emotionally. And motivationally.. Although I doubt I am in any way ready intellectually for physics or advanced French grammar--which, I might add with much lack of enthusiasm, is full of return missionaries. Nor am I ready for the chemistry that decided to taint a class (physiology) I thought would be a comfort to my mind amidst its crueler fellows. I was sitting in physics the other day, never feeling stupider. Sometimes things are hard to grasp. But I don't even know what to grasp. I sit there and try to understand the concepts, but all my mind sees is its own version of what Physics World looks like: 8-dimensional curves and slopes rotating without foundations or connections. To those of you who never struggled in physics, or even struggled only slightly, I salute you. WOW, I salute you. You could do pretty much anything and I would still think you were smarter than 99.999% of the world.

But, there is a sun ray purpose in this post. It's called dreams. Dreams and hope.

My lovely apartment, located ten minutes from BYU, has a secret. A roof that is magical and wonderful. It will never witness mediocre happenings. Instead, every night we've been there, something magical has happened--we've dreamt. Tonight, three of us girls sat on the roof for hours discussing our future lives and our determinations to live better lives in the present.

Last week, four of us made a two-week plan. We decided to return to the roof two weeks later and assess. Well, we planned to run every M,W,F, go to the temple every Tuesday, eat nothing sugary, say nothing bad about others, and read our scriptures every night before 8:00pm. It's hard and I've not followed it perfectly, but I love it. And am doing very well. Yay for new semesters and goals!

Rough Start

So it's Thursday of the first week of school. And what a week it's been. What a two/three weeks it's been. The last two weeks I spend in California were spent running around trying to buy anything I'd need out here, trying to tie up all the loose ends. I was usually working at the nursing home from 6:30a to 3:00p and then running over to Kiersten's for the evening so we could complete all the things we'd planned for the summer. The last three days I was home I had a schedule up to the minute I got in bed. It was crazy.
I, being (as I always will) Morgan LaRee Anderson, waited until midnight Tuesday night to pack my room. We were leaving Wednesday at 6:00a. I'd already packed up several boxes and sent them ahead with my aunt and it didn't look like I had much left. I did. And I slept for a half hour that night.
I got into Provo Wednesday evening and walked into the apt I will be living in for the next year. Cailey and her family were running all over trying to fix up this and that because their previous renters had moved out late and left a lot broken and dirty. We carried all my stuff up, got to work moving in, and helped the Gallachers with a few things. My parents went to their hotel and Cailey and I decided to paint the kitchen with the assistance of her friend Stephen. It was soon 2:00, painting was done, and we both decided we were in the mood to get to work on our rooms. At 4:00 I decided I was too tired to continue and went to bed. I woke up a few hours later to shop for the apartment with my parents before they headed home. That night, Cailey and I stayed up until 4:00 again. And the next few nights were around 2:00, 1:00.
So I started school with.. not much sleep. Classes have been fine so far. And work.. didn't come back as easily or quickly as I'd hoped. But, life is good and I'm happy. Nevertheless, Three-day-weekend, I welcome you!!

My New Year's Resolution Reminder

I've always been a big dreamer. I have huge dreams for life and many, many goals. I have a list of about eleven summer goals and quite the Bucket List (being a lover of lists as well as dreams, plans, and goals). BUT, I'm terrible at getting them done. I can even plan out little landmarks, objectives. I'm just really bad at getting stuff done, at using my time wisely. I'll always turn in a paper, read my assignments, etc., but I'll be a few minutes late to class because I started it an hour previous. And although I'd sworn to myself I'd never do it again, it had worked, I'd gotten a pretty good grade, and here I was, doing it again, a slave to my procrastination and laziness. But at the end of the class period, I've redirected myself with the goal to start all assignments earlier and have them done the day before they're due.

Well, with this goal setting comes MASSIVE New Year's Resolution Making. This past year, I made about 20 more goals than I could actually accomplish . . . But! I did one thing right: among the many lofty, well-meant, but ill-to-be-kept, goals, I made one main goal. And my main goal of this year was to leave everyone better than I found them. To make everyone feel like Morgan Anderson thought they were special. To find out what people love most about themselves and what I love most about them and point it out.

I had a nice littler reminder a few months ago.

This is the greatest movie, film, I've ever seen. A friend who knows me well showed it to me, knowing I'd love it. I did. It's exactly what I want to be and it's fifteen minutes that you won't regret spending.

Who wouldn't love knowing a Hugh Newman? Who'd like to be a Victoria--married to a Hugh Newman? Who wants to be a Hugh Newman? It's my new life goal. Be sure to let me know how I'm doing! Here's to accomplishing one of . . . many goals!

You're great! YOU are awesome! You have great cheekbones and a lovely laugh.

Thoughts for Grammar

The dog wagged it is tail. How many times have I thought this phrase? Hundreds. Thousands, maybe. (I've always been terrible with estimating numbers. Are there 80? 140? Or 200 people in this room? I couldn't tell you..) I'm sure you think it's an odd phrase. It isn't even grammatically correct. Well, it's all thanks to.. Mrs. Miracle. Or Mrs. Ferrill. Or Mrs. Reid. I don't remember when I was taught this life saving little reminder.

Once I learned my left and right, I knew the difference with little difficulty. I'm not one of those people you still see, extending their thumbs and pointer fingers to see which side shapes an 'L.' In fact, I never used that trick. I knew I was left-handed, so if the side in debate was on the side with the hand I wrote with, it was the left side. Logically.  And so I never had a hesitation in my left and right differentiation. Back to the point: although I had no difficulty with right v left, I did with it's v its. Until a brilliant teacher taught her class a brilliant trick.

Unlike many cases with the 's, the word 'it' does not get an apostrophe s when used possessively. The apostrophe s is, instead, used for the contraction: it is becomes it's. So, when looking at the phrase, The dog wagged it is tail, we see it is incorrect and, therefore, does not get the apostrophe s. So that phrase would be The dog wagged its tail. If we look at a phrase like I like the sun because it is hot, we see it is correct and, therefore, receives the apostrophe s. This phrase becomes I like the sun because it's hot.

Well, I can't really say why I decided to write this, let alone post it. Maybe I just wanted you to see one more extremely weird thing that makes Morgan Morgan.