on moving forward

i can hardly believe its been twelve years since the day
on this period of twenty four hours
this day that seems to come closer every year

though the memory of it slips farther away from our grasp
this day that stands at the crest of a new season
a coincidence i find not so fortuitous  

i think i speak for many of us when i say
we can feel the ground beneath us shifting
change...more markedly found between the lined pages of our notebooks
or between the margins of our books is underway

yet as i reflect on the effects of that day
and call to mind the chaos of that sunny morning
in juxtaposition with the stillness of this days murky cold dawn
i am made more aware of the constancy
of our nation than the change

the capacity that a body of individuals has to
soldier on when their counterparts will not
and the ability to retain a constancy in something that itself has changed
to hold on to some things in a world that hungers for and demands alteration

and though the men and women who gave up
more than we can even comprehend
that day deserve a recognition that is beyond words
i also commend the rest of us who have sought to build upon that
and make something of the loss

and while many things set before us this season look to
renovation and modification and new ways of being
can we all silently squeal for the new apple iphone
and hold our breaths as the election moves forward

i appreciate the fixedness of this nation
and the permanence of our values
the consistency of our perseverance
to compensate for the voids we have
both as a whole and as individuals

that most certainly deserves a tip of the hat
to many who may not be too long gone to reciprocate

© 2012 by Rachel Lowry. All rights reserved.

Link Off

I hope you having a great Memorial Day. What fun a link off this holiday affords:

—A song for those taking work off for the holiday.
—A little anecdote for those still in the office.
—Plan a memorial day party.
—Six influential literary contributors who died in 2011.
—Figment writers share their short stories on memorial day.
—How endearing is she? If only we could all start our mornings this way.
—The Semi-Great Gildersleeve reflects on the travesties of war.
—A Memorial Day poem by Longfellow at The Atlantic.
—These are all the rage for any event.
—Memorial day sales kick off with GAP.
—This book is spreading across blog posts like wildfire. I don't think it's because people like the office.
—I love everything about this chance collection. Give me some sandals, red-and-white stripes, and watch me go.
—Memorial Day will never be the same.
—Considering watching this today.

© 2012 by Rachel Lowry. All rights reserved. {photo via}

Link Off

If you're hung up on inspiration on what to do this Holiday, I'll link you up!

—Want to feel gorgeous on that hot date? Check out Joanna's latest post.

—Something for every stage of life

—Seven perfect Valentines Day ideas for singles

—What is Single's Awareness Day and how can you get involved

—What does she really want for Valentine's Day?

—The Legend of St. Valentine

—The myth of cupid

—Couples that have been together more than 50 years in Lauren Fleishman's New York photo series

—Chocolates and Munchables here, here and here

—Movies to see? The Vow, Valentine's Day, or the ultimate classic, You've Got Mail

—Build a fort! Always.

@ 2012 by Rachel Lowry. All Rights Reserved {photo Ruthanne Annaloro via 500px.com, photo source unknown - if you do know, please share}

2011 in review

Wake up, girl. Bury your head into the stark white covers of your large down bed, eye the pattern of the canopy above you. Dismissing the burnt sparklers and half empty Martinelli bottles on the floor around you, you catch your own eye in the mirror and find yourself staring back at this girl of {twenty four} years old for the first time. Today is your Birthday. You can't seem to relinquish the gaze, for you are facing the alternate version of the self you have known all your life. The paradox intrigues you. 

Charles Lamb once wrote, Every man hath one day, at least, in every year, which sets him upon revolving the lapse of time, as it affects his mortal duration. It is that which in an especial manner he termeth his. What is this strange intrigue of possession? It is the notion that this increment of space, sustained by moments and measured by numbers, can belong to me. Can hours be defined, categorized, bracketed? If so, I would place tags on the hours - that seemingly measurable space between {twenty three} and {twenty four}. One small leap between two neighboring numbers - and yet, so much falls between the decimal points. 

Twenty three was the year of conquest; not over others, but myself. This was the year I conjured the courage to lift the bedskirt and face my monsters, barefaced and brazen. Twenty three would be the year I would come to treat more often upon the unmarked terrain of inward identity to chisel away at and polish the concave regions of within and to find there an undiluted beauty. Twenty three was my stab at sophistication; elegance; poise - and all along a growing realization that elegance isn't exactly my savoir faire when battling my work computer and one can hardly pass as dignified when having awoken to a silent alarm clock two hours' late. And, once again, loving the contradiction. 

At twenty three, I graduated. Twenty three  was the year I picked up and moved to Salt Lake City. It was at twenty three that my sisters and I had one last summer together. Twenty three was the summer my sister and I spent a summer in San Diego. At twenty three I combatted forty-two plus hours in rush hour. At twenty three, I interned on Capitol Hill with Mark Shurtleff, learning this, this, this and this. Twenty three was the year of coffee shops and writing groups. At twenty three, I mastered the art of red velvet cake balls. I helped promote the invisible children movement and began my story in ink, as inspired by Tess, Holmes, and Anna.

© 2012 by Rachel Lowry. All rights reserved.

I Salute You

Everyone has a story, a place, a moment, a memory they remember every 11th. Mine? I had walked through the doorway of my eighth grade sewing class when I first knew something was wrong. 

My hand gripped my turquoise plastic backpack, wisps of my messy dirty-blonde hair falling upon my face, as I traipsed in to an empty chair next to my best friend. Her eyes were searching mine, her cheeks devoid of color. All I had to do is look up.

We watched. All we could do is watch as it happened on a tiny little screen that flickered with streams of static, which seemed to remind us of the distance between us and them, the distance which inhibited us from doing anything but watch as the streets diminished behind a cloud of dust and screams.  NYMag put a great article out, if you have a moment.

@ 2011 by Rachel Lowry. All Rights Reserved. Photographs via GMA's Instagram and Gothamist.com. 

Monday Quoe

3 Simple Rules in Life: 
1. If you do not go after what you want, you'll never have it.
2. If you do not ask, the answer will always be no.
3. If you do not step forward, you will always be in the same place.

(via welltraveledwoman)

Day threehundredsixtyfive: new years day {nyu/yîr/dey}

I anticipate the countdown of celebrants who become united in a moment as they shout the epic countdown. I watch the world count the seconds that, unbeknownst (and most likely of little significance) to them, also signals the birth of one girl among the throng of people. As I will be turning twenty three when the clock strikes midnight and the balloons fall from the ceiling, the last moments of my twenty second year will not (in the words of my man Eliot) go out with a whimper, but a bang.

Such festivities pose the question of how one measures a year. 360 times your head touches the pillow; 556,600 thoughts crossing your mind; 7,884,000 breaths; 56,200 sighs; 650,000 steps; 23,000 times your favorite songs comes on the radio.

What will you make possible this year? What boundaries will you transcend? What triumphs will you conquer? What talents will you master? What will you rise above? And how will you find what you're looking for?

© 2010 by Rachel Lowry. All rights reserved.

25 Christmas Challenges

Every year, Mom sends us a Christmas package, which includes Christmas challenges on a countdown to Christmas. It always helps me get into the true spirit of Christmas. I really love this idea, and found a neat one by rockstar blogger, naomi, this year. In concordance with her post, I'd like to extend the challenge to you. They're simple, but they sure make your day a little bit more festive and cheery. 25 christmas challenges:

• go out of your way-- befriend someone today that needs a friend and follow through to christmas
• tell someone you love them
• make a tree decoration that will remind you of Christ
• in your prayers today, give thanks for every blessing without asking for anything
• try to be as kind as possible to others today
• try not to quarrel with family members today
• do a good deed anonymously
• make goals for yourself-- seal a copy in an envelope to be opened in a year
• visit someone sick or lonely or sad
• do volunteer work for some worthy cause
• do something fun for a child or younger sibling
• try to forgive someone who has wronged you, be reconciled
• make a "give list" instead of a list of gifts you'd like
• improve yourself in some way to please the Savior
• quietly reflect and choose uplifting activities vs shopping
• phone or send a card to an old friend or family member
• listen to Handel's Messiah
• make a christmas treat for someone else
• be a calming influence today and control your temper
• accept the gift of forgiveness-- pray for some weakness and ask for help in repenting of it
• look at christmas lights... where does all light come from?
• sing carols
• do something nice for someone without their knowing it was you
• be the first to say hello to people all day
• ask someone to tell you about a past christmas

© 2010 by Rachel Lowry. All rights reserved. {via: cherrybam}

Luck /lək/ a force that brings good fortune or adversity; favoring chance

While the cynic may mock the lack of logic in luck (if any logic it contains), and the ingenuous may use it to hide behind, I myself hold the belief that luck is the stream of fortuitous happenings, grounded in unfaltering dedication.

Such happenings, for me, can only be described as God-given. Those moments when we have tapped into that divine realm, for even an flicker of a moment, makes me wonder if there's something so much larger than myself, waiting to be known; that I'm part of a grand scheme that I don't yet fully understand, but influence more than you realize. There are so many times when I am struck with the realization that the Lord bestows power upon me, or sends his angels at times when I most need it. Even more satisfying are those times when I become someone else's angel. I dare not deny that the Lord gives us so much more than we deserve.

How incredibly lucky am I. Can people share luck? If I could, I would splice it into a million shards, and sprinkle it across the globe. I am often prone to forgetfulness, but every once in a while, just at the right moment, I am hit with the striking realization that I have it.

Luck, I mean.

I love that I can arise each morning with a healthy body, dance out of bed, if I so desire. I love that my family has allowed me to experience the kind of love that I would freely die for. I love that the world is at my fingertips, just waiting to determine how I can leave my mark. I love that books are an integral and familiar part of me, and that over a million words are available to me with the click of a mouse. I love that the sound of the slide between chords on a guitar is so familiar to me. I love that I have so many truly amazing friends, who constantly inspire me to be better. I love that chocolate exists. I love the hope that Spring brings. I love how I wake up every morning and realize that reality is so much better than my dreams. I love that I have a best friend, who died for me so that I can live with him again. That's real luck.