Possibly Insightful Ramblings

Every time I see someone reach out to another, my heart is touched. My faith in humanity increases. And I smile--I who neither gave nor the received the service. My day is brightened because I watch other people serve. Like that one day that a young woman I'll probably never speak to shifted the way that I look at service. I can't count the number of times since coming to Moscow that I've watched someone give up their seat on the metro to another person. A young man letting the babushka take his place. A woman giving up her seat for a child. But the time I will always remember took place on a crowded metro car. Suddenly, a young woman stood from her seat at the end of the wagon and set her purse on the seat to reserve it until she returned. I thought to myself that she must be standing up to look at the map near me to figure out where to get off. But she didn't. She walked past the map. And approached an insignificant babushka concealed behind a host of other people...

I walk the streets and feel this city. The metro walls too often confine and I need to touch the pavement in order to understand. This is my Moscow. It is not a government or a position or a single entity but a people a way of life a family. And for a brief moment they let me breathe their air take in the essence of what makes them Moscovites. And while the rain-laden clouds bend to embrace the ground, Moscow embraces me with its smells its sounds its history its vibrancy. And I live here. And I nearly grasp what it is to live here.

A few days ago, as I was sitting in my Moscovian dorm room eating my newest creation (which I will optimistically call Russian macaroni and cheese), I came across a phenomenal Ted Talk, "The power of introverts." Some of you have probably already seen it, but for those of you who haven't, you should probably fix that. Like, now. It will be 20 minutes well spent. Isn't that good? Yeah. That's what I thought. As I ate my macaroni and cheese that afternoon, Susan Cain got me all excited several times as she so effectively expressed what I've been thinking and feeling for the past months. And years. In a culture that caters to the strengths and personalities of extroverts, her thoughts are timely and much-needed. Because quiet people change the world, too. But like Susan Cain, I am a huge fan of extroverts. Our world needs them. I don't think everybody should become a bookworm like me who seeks to get out of social obligations as often as possible to be...

I don't know you, and you know me as nobody more than the girl sitting by the door, scribbling notes on the back of a receipt. I'll probably never see you again. And in fact, we're not even going to exchange any words on this metro ride, since you are caught up in your smart phones and inside jokes and flirtations. And why would you want to talk to a foreigner nearly twice your age anyway? But I want you to know you expanded my understanding of life. Because you and I--we are the same. In you I see that universal junior high existence. That desire to be loved, accepted, to be cool, to fit in, to understand life. The carefully masked excitement of a field trip with a couple dozen of your peers. The boys seeking to be tough to impress the girls, and the girls giggling in response. The quiet kid who gets up to give his seat to a girl. The bold little guy who steals that seat before a girl can get it. The two serious kids standing away from the rest of the group, deep in th...

I'm in Moscow. And Moscow has a stake. A stake of Zion. (And for those of you unfamiliar with that terminology, a stake  is a group of congregations in my church.) This weekend, the Moscow stake had the incredible privilege of hearing from Elder Bednar, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. And that was one of the most incredible experiences ever. On Saturday, I had the opportunity to gather with a couple dozen young women from the stake in Moscow to be instructed by Sister Bednar, Sister Bennett, and the wives of other church leaders. As we sat in a circle of sisters in that little (and well-hidden) meeting house in Moscow, I felt incredible love for my Russian sisters. I'd only met them a week or two ago, and some of them I still hadn't met as the meeting began. But as we discussed the Atonement, gratitude, and overcoming trials in our lives, my heart was full to overflowing with love for these precious daughters of God. I am so grateful that I get to be her...

As I traipsed around the streets of Moscow today, I passed a number of high school graduates. Most of them were dressed up, either in preparation for their dances going on tonight, or still in their best dress from graduation celebrations earlier today. The last day of school here in Russia and Ukraine is a much bigger affair than in America. Instead of merely handing out and signing yearbooks, sitting through a few classes where you don't actually learn anything, and saying goodbye to all of your friends as was my experience back home, Eastern Europe's "Last Bell" celebrations are quite something. The students put on programs and parades, and it's particularly ceremonious for those who are leaving the school. They ring a symbolic "last bell," and sometimes the students release balloons into the air, silently wishing for things and thinking about their future. As I observed some of these high school graduates tonight, wearing little bells on their lape...

As most of you know, I'm doing an internship/study abroad this summer in Moscow, Russia. Which means that for three months, I'll be living in one of the greatest cities in the world, studying Russian under a native professor, teaching English at an orphanage, and working at the Dostoevsky museum here. Basically it's going to be incredible. But this site you're reading isn't going to turn into an ordinary travel blog. You're not going to get daily or weekly updates on what I'm seeing or doing in Russia. (But Facebook might, so you can check there if you want more pictures.) No, here is still going to be my thoughts and reflections and ponderings on life, inspired by the seemingly mundane things that always happen, discussed in an attempt to capture the essence of life. And we're beginning with details. Details carefully planned by God to give His children to know that they are known. That they are loved. That they are cared about. Someone I'm a bi...