the ocean, the sky, and my favorite pair of eyes.

November 25, 2014

All of those things have one very important common factor; blue. I believe the majority of my life has been painted by various hues of blue. But recently the days of my existence have been brushed over with a variety of colors I've never really seen before. Red-- like blotchy, tear-stained cheeks, untimely frustrations, and tired eyes. Grey-- like rain kissed pavement, boredom, and the suitcases I've been so diligently packing. Yellow-- like sunshine and birthday balloons... 

They told me that the latest I'll be going back to my mission in Korea is December 18th. I may go earlier, but that's all dependent on the arrival of my visa. Which means I've only got a few weeks left here in America before saying goodbye again for another nine months. Absurd. I'd say I'm excited but I'm afraid that would be a bit of an understatement. 

I want to share my soul with the people I interact with; I want them to see that it's chipped and fraying in a few different places just because it's been well-used. I want them to see the way it changes colors along with my mood. I want them to see how it starts to glow when my heart whispers rumors of love into its very core. I want to share my soul with the people I interact with. But I suppose it's mostly just because I want others to share their souls with me. 

I'm leaving in a few weeks. But it's never too late to say, "Hello, my name is CaLea. My favorite color is blue and today I napped beneath a christmas tree and that made my happy." I guess that was my lame, half-attempt at a conversation starter. What's your name, what's your favorite color, and what made you happy today? The world is far more beautiful when people leave little fragments of their soul like glitter everywhere they go. 


welcome to my front porch.

November 21, 2014

Today my heart felt heavy; it intruded on my lung-space so I couldn't breathe and then my eyes started to leak-- I hate it when my eyes leak. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it makes me extra frustrated (which obviously doesn't help at all). At one point I even felt like throwing my hands in the air and exclaiming, "Okay, world. Ya got me. I'm done." 

But I didn't. 

Instead, I came home, put on my pajamas, curled up in a ball with my pillow pet, and then watched movies for hours. All by myself. And somehow I magically ended up with the most delectable chocolate cupcake in my possession so I went ahead and devoured that-- I'm assuming that contributed greatly to the healing therapy for my soul. 

I don't believe in "bad days," only bad moments. Because in every single day there's at least one thing-- no matter how little it may be-- that can make us smile. And if a day has one insignificant little detail in it that is good, then it can't be a bad DAY-- just a long day full of lots of unfortunate little things and a couple of good things. 

But let's be real, when those bad moments come, they don't mess around. Take, for instance, today, when I my cheeks ended up tear-stained and blotchy thanks to my temporary emotional breakdown. I just wallowed in silly misery and thought, "This sucks." And there wasn't really anything I could do in that moment except for just waiting it out. Emotions will do as they please, but those bad moments will pass. They always do. 

Feelings, they're the worst.
But the best.

Life is so ironic. 


to the boy;

November 20, 2014

//This goes out to the boy who always believed I could do great things and never hesitated to remind me how wonderful he thought I was. 

//This goes out to the boy who could always make me laugh because he acted like a brainless buffoon, a grandpa, or a deprived child.

//This goes out to the boy who, when I was acting like an insane person, endured it well and never had one bad thing to say to me or about me.

//This goes out to the boy whose eyes get so squinty when he smiles that he might as well close them.

//This goes out to the boy who hugged me through the bad days of high school and puberty.

//This goes out to the boy who thought he could put two different patterns of plaid together and get away with it. (He couldn't... but almost.)

//This goes out to the boy who stuck with me despite all my bratty attempts to push him away.

//This goes out to the boy who showed up the night my mom and big sister got in a horrible car accident. He turned on Phineas & Ferb, cracked some jokes, said a prayer with the younger siblings, did the dishes, and the held me until I fell asleep on the couch.

//This goes out to the boy who put up with my antics and claimed he wasn't "putting up" with anything at all.

//This goes out to the boy who honors his priesthood and enthusiastically steps up to the plate to do all that he is asked to do-- and he does it with a smile.

//This goes out to the boy who showed me that it's okay to trust and to care and to lean upon others and who proved to me that trusting doesn't always end up hurting us.

//This goes out to the boy who is an example to me every single day.

//This goes out to the boy who I haven't seen for over a year and a half and who I will not see for at least ten more months.

This goes out to the boy.


lend me your eyes, I can change what you see.

November 18, 2014

I'm afraid of silly things like falling in love and being kidnapped from my bed in the middle of the night by a gorilla wearing armor. I'm afraid of the unexpected and the expected. I'm afraid of my hair in the morning and getting out of bed when the world is so cold. I'm afraid of getting stuck in the same little rut for longer than my attention span can last. I'm afraid of terrible radio commercials and cat-calling construction workers. I'm afraid of falling and not being caught. I'm afraid of sharing my feelings and vulnerability. I'm afraid of making the wrong decision and carrying the weight of regret. I'm afraid of the dark when I turn off the lights in my room each night. I'm always careful to not allow my feet to get too close to the "underneath" of my bed. I'm afraid of not being in control but I'm also afraid of being in control.

I'm afraid of lots of things.
But if fear didn't exist in this world, neither would heros.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can see the future almost as clearly as I see the present. But the thing about the future is the fact that it's always changing; sometimes I see myself with a faceless lover trampling through stubborn underbrush on a mountain somewhere in a foreign country-- other times I see myself in a hospital bed, disgruntled, yet smiling, as my faceless lover ever so gently places a baby in my arms and whispers, "Ours." I think I like the future because it's so... limitless. It holds the possibility of anything and everything I've ever wanted; which must be why I find it so thoroughly intriguing. 

I've been in limbo for a long time. But "long time" is about to come to an end. In just a matter of days I'll receive my travel plans and a new adventure will weave itself into the details of my life. I'm going back to Korea and I've been dreaming about this moment since the mention of "home" became a part of my life. I'm going back to Korea. Is this even real life?

But then again, what's "real life" anyway?


"Herro, How ah you?"

November 16, 2014

I've been spending all my time working for an art gallery that does shows at various costcos across the valley. Last night, as I was making my way down a grey highway and longing to be back in Seoul, I offered a simple and short prayer merely asking for an opportunity to converse with a Korean. My prayer was more like a silly request than a demand, and I wasn't entirely sure what sort of circumstances I was asking for, but I was sharing the feelings in my heart; I directed my pleas heavenward and hoped for the best.

It's funny because there I was, just organizing all the art in the bins, when I heard an explosion of "anyeonghasaeoh," (the Korean "hello") right behind me. I turned around just in time to see a group of them smiling and bowing to each other in a cheerful greeting. They all went separate ways before I even had a chance to spark up a conversation with one of them. But just seeing Koreans and hearing the Korean greeting phrase was all I needed to know that God hears my prayers-- no matter how silly they may seem.

About ten minutes later, one of the members of the korean greeting party, an old man who most-likely spoke very little english, walked past my booth. I turned to him and said, in Korean, "Hi! You speak Korean, right?" (Which was a silly question because I'd already heard him speaking Korean). And I think the fact that I was speaking to him in Korean when he was expecting english resulted in him not understanding what I said. So, in an awkward response (that I actually thoroughly enjoyed), he merely said, "How ah you?" Day = made. 

I've never been one to believe in coincidences because I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. We may not always know or understand why things happen the way that they do, but the one thing we can always know is that, when we strive to do our best every single day, in the end, it's all going to end up exactly the way it was always meant to end.

Which is pretty cool, if you ask me.
I believe in happily ever afters, happiness despite despair,
and new beginnings with every new tomorrow.


you told me i was like a dead sea.

November 13, 2014

"Well, twenty or so years ago a fateful cry was heard. Somewhere in Utah a little girl was brought into the world who was going to prove a lot harder to handle than originally expected. Her parents were, of course, overjoyed... at first, anyway. She was a bright little ball of sunshine MOST of the time, but you see, the problem was that there wasn't enough room in her tiny little body for her great big spirit... and there still isn't. As a result, she was and is prone to be a tad... strange. I mean, for such a potent, vastly and immeasurably great soul to be crammed into such a tiny, cute little body is almost begging for disaster. So I guess what I'm saying is that you, CaLea, should- by all accounts- be a complete disaster... but somehow instead you became a masterpiece. I suppose that's how most wonderful things come about- completely unexpected."


There's something peaceful and quiet about snowfall. It's as if it has this unmatchable super power that can hush the entire earth. It's shy, unlike the sun, and timid, unlike the rain. But it's beautiful like the trees that catch fire every year as soon as autumn begins to dance. Isn't it funny how falling in love is both the most terrifying and freeing sensation in this realm of existence? Merely holding someone's hand can send shudders of goosebumps all the way up and down your arms. When I'm not thinking about anything at all, my thoughts always tend to wander towards daydreams of moments I have not yet lived and nightmares of moments I can't seem to forget. Which is why, I suppose, I alwasy keep myself busy. One of my favorite things to do is merely smile at strangers; you never quite know what sort of a reaction you will get. I'm beginning to understand more and more every day. It's not about fighting your way through life. Instead, it's all about loving your way through life. When my eyeballs feel heavy all I want to do is curl up next to the fire and fall asleep listening to Christmas music. I think one  thing that I look forward to in marriage is the acquisition of a designated cuddle buddy. I like snow as long as I don't have to drive in it. Leggings are my best friends. But also wool socks and footie pajamas. Next week is November 21st and that's kind of a big deal for me. I want a pet husky. I'd probably name him after a Lord of the Rings character. Have you ever just  started writing without any sort of direction and then you just sort of end up somewhere like the end of this paragraph?


autumn is getting sleepy but winter wants to play.

November 12, 2014

My days have begun to run out of light earlier than I'd like and the golden leaves that autumn used to decorate the earth's surface are beginning to sparkle with frost. And just like that, another season is dozing into oblivion while the next gently rubs the sleep from its eyes. 

Sometimes I let my mind wander back to seasons that have long since passed and forward to seasons that have yet to come. I can't decide which I like thinking about more; when I pull out old dusty memories from their hiding place inside my skull it feels almost as if I've traveled back in time to fleeting moments when my heart was warmed by kind words and when my lips were warmed by hot cocoa. And when I close my eyes and let my imagination create hypothetical outcomes of unknown and adventurous tomorrows, I always end up biting my lip in a weak attempt to tame my growing excitement. 

Life is a peculiar thing that is ornamented with magical moments. It's almost like a christmas tree-- it's this grand, beautiful, breathtaking vision, but it's made up entirely of minor and seemingly insignificant details. I think we forget that it's the little things in life that make great things so great;

Singing Korean hyms with a toothless and tiny old woman as we stroll down a busy walkway and she lovingly pats my bum. A romantic summer picnic bathed in moonlight that was interrupted by the city's sprinkler system. My soccer team storming the field when we stood victorious at the end of a the championship game. Holding my nephew for the first time as his little hand wraps its fingers around my own. Pulling up to the Provo MTC with the knowledge that it was time to begin a new adventure all on my own. Shaking hands with an apostle of the Lord. Hearing the words, "I love you." and not being afraid. Overlooking the entire valley from the very top of mount timpanogos. Laying in a hopsital bed in Korea at three o'clock in the morning with my name tag still pinned to my chest...

When I look back upon all the life I've already lived, all I see is moments. I don't remember every moment from start to finish, but I remember the moments in which I felt, breathed, hurt, smiled, laughed, dreamed, danced, tripped, screamed, cried, served-- LIVED. And so, I am entirely made up of moments. 

Some happy, some sad, but in the end they're all just moments. 
And each moment is just one little stroke of the masterpiece my life is becoming.


Hi, I'm twenty.

November 9, 2014

I've officially bid adieu to my teenage years and welcomed in the arrival of my twenties. Not going to lie-- I was sitting on my couch on the eve of my birthday and I couldn't seem to shake the feeling of utter terror due to the sudden recognition of the death of my so-called "teen years." Yes, I will always be a kid at heart, but the fact that I've somehow managed to reach the phase of life in which some of the greatest decisions must be made caused my heart to go into cardiac arrest. I'm (kind of sort of) freaking out. Heck, my dad even freaked out.

Dad: "So how old are ya?"
Mom: "Dale, she's twenty."
Dad: *with wide eyes* "What the heck?"

Jill and I were talking about it, and we decided that the "twenties" time period of a human being's life is the most difficult. Why? Because it's the time of life in which you must decide where you want to go to school, what you want to study, who you want to marry, where you want to live, when you want to start having babies-- SO MANY DECISIONS. I'm the kind of girl that has a hard time deciding where I want to go out and eat, let alone making critical, life-changing decisions. I'm doomed.

But all things aside, I had a good birthday. I once-again received a Costco-sized box of fruit snacks.. (I think I sense the beginning of a life-long tradition.) My big sister gave me an adult ninja turtle onsie complete with a removable cape. And my cute mom got me the nicest down coat and wool socks for those cold winter days on the streets of Korea. Oh, and she also managed to find a "dressy" snuggie. Like, I basically wore a blanket to church yesterday and it was great.

But the best present of all? The knowledge that I will be returning to Korea at the end of the month! I'm doing my best to wait patiently but holy hannah I'm getting anxious. SO, I'm doing my best to keep myself busy.

Being twenty is weird.
Being in America is weird.
But hey, whateva whateva.