Discovering Kindred Spirits

Ever since I was little I've loved Anne of Green Gables. I love the books and I adored the movies. Honestly, if you had to pick one character to most represent me it would be Anne Shirley (with an 'e'). I've always identified with her funny ways and passionate feeling (especially her love of places with lots of scope for the imagination). Well, this last weekend I reconnected with this love and re-watched the movies. I had to squeeze it in between work shifts and late at night when I should have been sleeping, but I assure you it was well worth it. And it once again reminded me of the beautiful concept of Kindred Spirits. I, like Anne, used to think that Kindred Spirits were rare. But I have since learned otherwise. How wonderful to be able to say with Anne that, "Kindred Spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world." And now as I turn my life over to the consistent ebb and flow of change I find it my only comfort to know that "true friends are always together in Spirit." 

This last Sunday my Kindred Spirit, Sarah Anne Dodds, came home from BYU-Idaho. It was a lovely time to spend the day attending farewells, making cookies, and sitting together in church. We giggled and reminisced and felt no other joy than to be together.  Today we went to the temple just like we used to every Wednesday morning before school. We sat by the fountain and talked about the future, having already covered the bliss of the past. And true to tradition we returned to my house to make and delicious breakfast. But finding perfect contentment in reliving tradition and treasuring the past all the while barely containing our excitement for the future is not why Sarah is my Kindred Spirit. Sarah is not my Kindred Spirit because we find perpetual bliss in each other's successes and joys nor because we understand each other on a level untouched by others. It is not because of the unconditional love, acceptance, and need that seemed innately present in the other nor is she my Kindred Spirit because our experiences, beliefs, and very beings are so uncannily similar. It is not because she knew me better than anyone, nor is it that no sacrifice would be too great if it was needed of the other. I am certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that I could not be happy if Sarah were not apart of my life and that perhaps our children may play together while we take walks. She will be at my wedding and I hers, perhaps we will travel, and someday we'll once again reminisce, but this time on a front porch swing with the aroma of chocolate chip cookies wafting through the parlor, our grand-children playing in the yard. But not even this is why Sarah is my Kindred Spirit. 

Sarah is my Kindred Spirit simply because she always has been. I may not remember what happened before this life had begun it's course but I do know one thing . . . when I first met Sarah I wasn't meeting her for the first time. We simply picked up where we left off. What a glorious feeling to realize that though time may always move forward it never has to mean the end. One may simply pick up where they left off. The strands of a memory or the sensations of a past are enough to give meaning and hope that a brighter future may be sparked and ignited into a beautiful present.

Sarah is my Kindred Spirit and I daresay she always has been and always will be and I love her for it. 

So it seems to me (at least from my experience with Sarah) that Kindred Spirits are not made but rather discovered. If we keep our eyes and hearts open I'm sure we will find them, perhaps even in ourselves. For with a Kindred Spirit distance can not part nor hardship waver. A Kindred Spirit does not falter with change or grow weary with years. They do not simply exist in books or in the forever young characters of Anne Shirley and Diana Barry. They are all around us and it's time to start discovering . . . discovering Kindred Spirits. 

-Natalie Cherie

A Past Not Yet Gone

So a couple nights ago I decided to go on a little walk before the sunset. Without even really thinking about it I set off towards my old Elementary School, a path I've walked a thousand and a half times before. But a walk I could take backward and with my eyes closed suddenly became very nostalgic, as I realized that nothing seemed to have changed. The little wildflower garden next door was in bloom and the little path through the fences was just as weathered as always with leaves forever caught between the slats and the sidewalk and vines growing between the posts. The playground was just as bright and the swing sets sat peacefully still like a pencil sketch waiting for the children to play and squeal and once again bring life and color to the scene. And the sunset was like a painting as it decorated the sky and slipped behind the line of darkened trees. Nothing had changed...nothing but me. Yet somehow, I could still step back into a past not yet gone.

Oh, the solace that comes from a fixed point. A moment in time where we can always return. In a world where all pride themselves on consistent progression, constant change, and the struggle to not be left behind, it remains ever more precious and significant to find and keep those places that cannot be marred by the passage of time.

For Wallace Stegner in "Crossing to Safety," his fixed point was Baker Hill. Marcel Pagnol, a French filmmaker and writer, found his solace in the Hills of La Treille, France. And Anne of Avonlea would always return to her beloved Green Gables on Prince Edwards Island. It seems to me that we must each have one. A special spot where we can remember days gone by and rest from the racing world. A place, when all else changes, life move on, and friendships decay with distance, where we can return and find ourselves in the dusky twilight of a memory, the peace of a previous life, and the solace of a past not yet gone.

-Natalie Cherie

Happiest in the Rain

The missionaries stopped by on their P-Day and ended up
helping us move our TV, playing pickup sticks and of course
ending with a deep doctrinal discussion. A lovely rainy day.

 I've always loved the rain. Most of my childhood memories belong in Oregon where I felt happiest, and I was always happiest in the rain. I've now lived in Twin Falls for over 10 years and I've never lost my love of the rain. I love the feeling as it slides off my skin and streaks my hair. I love the smell of rain, as the dampness and vegetation mix to create a beautiful cleansing. I love the look as droplets touch every surface, window panes, street gutters, leaves, a pool surface, the tops of umbrellas. I love the sounds of splashing puddles and dripping water. And most of all I love dancing in the rain, singing in the rain, and feeling alive, at peace, and renewed in the rain.

This rainy morning I was coaching Sagebrush (the YMCA summer swim team)
and loving every minute of it! Juble found a butterfly and Lindsey and Abby were
definitely enjoying their woman cave. :)

-Natalie Cherie

The Feeling of Home

Yesterday was the 4th of July! It was a lovely day with a stake breakfast and lots of games. I played with Jason on the playground, took him to the Bounce House, and blew huge bubbles, then we ran around while I taught him to play Ultimate Frisbee. It was great fun! After sleeping and studying French I went to work and only had to stay for two hours cause business was so slow. And the highlight of the day, fireworks of course!

We went out to Burley and sat on a lovely golf course next to the river and watched the fireworks explode right over our heads. The set-off site was literally 100 yards away. It sounded like a hundred Calvary Horses charging the battlefield, with large cannons booming in the background. It looked as though the fireworks would fall on top of us, the streams of fiery light extinguishing at the last moment. Patriotic music seemed like whispers compared to the explosive sounds yet I was pleasantly surprised to hear EFY music coming across the speakers. I felt strangely nostalgic and was once again reminded of the feeling of home. 

-Natalie Cherie