Day 36: Evergreen

There is something extraordinary about rain that make you crave being near the ones you adore—people and creatures alike.  And for that, I love (and will always love) this rainy place. 

Day 35: Christmas Eve

I had almost forgot that I have a blog. 

It's been some time since I posted my last entry. It's a shame. There is so much good that I've let go unnoticed.

To recap, here is the concept of my blog:

"It's simple. Finding all that is wrong in the world is an easy task—one that we seem to constantly be tripping over. And as we're finding our way back to our feet, all we can see is the wrong that sent us falling. We keep our eyes glued to it. Afraid that if we look away it will strike again. But all the while that our eyes are glued to that which is wrong, we miss all that is right in the world. Our vision is tunneled and we neglect the beauty in our periphery.

The concept of my blog is simple. It is to, for a liberating moment, release my gaze from all that is wrong and focus in—even for the slightest moment—on that which is right. That which is good. That which is kind. To plant the tiniest seed of decency, nurture it with love and goodwill, and have hope that something beautiful will bloom. And when it does, that which is right in the world will become the focus of my gaze, sending that which is wrong to my periphery; a spot where I can see it just well enough that I need not stumble over it."

I have experienced, and continue to experience, so much good. Life is full of good— beautiful deeds, tender moments, and subtle reminders. Subtle reminders that, if we allow it, life is full of enchantment, amity, and love. Subtle reminders that, all is well if we let it be. 

As I reflect on the incessant good, something stands out. 

This is it..

This person is the epitome of finding all that is right in the world. Optimism is his second nature. His sprightliness and exuberance are fuel for good. He oozes with contagious happiness and charm. His sights are perpetually fixed on all things positive. His ability to find beauty in the ugliest of circumstances floors me— it's unreal. I am infinitely grateful that I get to spend all of my days with him. 

Day 34: First Midway, Then the World

It's a splendid thing, acknowledging the beauty.

Recognizing that which makes you infinitely happy.

Seeing the one who makes you breakout in a terribly dorky grin.

Surrounding yourself with the things that help you find peace.

Clinging to that which melts your heart.

Cherishing the endearing instants.

Appreciating those whom you adore.

Noticing the striking details so often overlooked

And sinking into the moments when all is right in the world. 

Day 33: All Dogs Go To Heaven

I miss you girl.

Having a companion as loyal as Taffy for the last 13 years is what's right in the world. 

Day 32: Grandpa Dean

Father's day got me thinking of things. Lots of things. One of these things was how amazing my grandfather is.

Grandpa Dean:

works hard
taught me how to hook a worn
taught me how to change a flat
loves snicker-doodles and apple pie
taught me how to cook a steak
has made me a more tolerant human
reminds me that good men exist
wears a button-up every day (even if he's working in his wood shop or the yard)
gives hugs that fix any problem
talks sense into me when I'm nonsensical
taught me how to back up a trailer (I never perfected it)
sat through graduations, volleyball games, and track meets
makes beautiful furniture
has helped me move in and out of houses
gives me advice that makes me cry it's so tender
encourages and nourishes my ambitions
is the ultimate handyman
still teases me about boys
talks smack when we play cards and pool
is an unbelievable human being
is protective
cooks a mean tenderloin
finds good in everyone
genuinely cares about his family
is the man


I hope I turn out like Grandpa Dean when I grow up. 

My grandpa is what's right in the world.

Day 31: My Head Might 'Splode

The past week was filled with silly amounts of fun. I can honestly say that at one point during the week I was afraid my head might 'splode due to the unthinkable good times being had by all.

Water slides were slid down. Fresh strawberry milkshakes were consumed. Rodeos were attended. Carnivals were visited. Pools were swam in. Mornings were spent running. Farmers' markets were graced by the presence of fantastic people. Diving boards were flipped off of. Good conversations were had. Dogs were cuddled.  Movies were watched. Friends were made. Dances were danced. Handstands were stood. Plans were made.

At the beginning of the summer, this lovely lady and I made a goal to have as much pure, unadulterated fun as we could possibly bear. So far, we've been rather successful.

 Good friends and good times are what's right in the world.

Day 30: Triplets

My contract at Eastmont Middle School ended as of June 7, 2011—A day that turned out to be sadder than necessary.  Middle school special education was going to be a thing of the past for me. As I was gathering the last few things from my desk—tokens that I've collected from the kiddos over the year—the teacher turned to the class and said, "Everyone be sure to thank Miss Megan when you say goodbye. It's her last day."

Up until this moment, I had been okay with it being my last day. I was sure that the copious amounts of high (behavior-problem-inducing) energy that comes during the last week of school was going to be enough to send me running out the doors as soon as my morning shift was over. But as soon as the teacher made a spectacle of my leaving, all bets were off. I went around to each of the kiddos, and gave them a high-five (hugs aren't allowed) and a mini chat, pointing out the outstanding progress they had made over the course of the school year.

I got to H.'s desk. H. is a quiet kiddo who, at all costs, keeps to himself. He's soft spoken but writes phenomenal stories of the adventures he goes on in his own imagination . He's a tiny thing, no taller than the file cabinets that are next to his desk and he's skinny.

"So why are you done?" he asked in his barely audible voice.

"H., you'll love this...I'm going to go work with newborn triplets now," I whispered in attempts to make my rounds less disruptive than they had already become.

"MISS MEGAN," he said in a whisper yell. "You remember that I'M a triplet, right?"

"And a mighty fine one, at that," I responded.

"I was the fist one born. I'm the oldest." 

" I bet your brothers both look up to you, H. I know that I do."

And with that, I put my hand out and waited for a high-five. I left it there for a few moments until it was obvious that I was left hanging. I wasn't surprised. H. is really sensitive to input. He hates touching things. He's created a safe cocoon and doesn't like when it is disturbed. 

"It's okay if you don't want to give me a high-five," I said. "I'm sure going to miss you bud."

I turned my back to him as I headed to the next student's desk. Just as I turned away, he got out of his seat and flung his arms around me.

"Thanks for being my friend, Miss Megan." 

It's an understatement to say that I lost it. 

And although I no longer work with my sweet triplet H., I have found myself snuggled up with another one. 

Baby G.

I think baby G. knows magic. He did this trick, within the first 10 minutes of knowing him, where he grimaced in his sleep. He followed it up with a groggy grin. And that was it, he got me hook like and sinker. He put a spell on me. I'm nuts about this little person. And to think that that there are two more coming to join the fun. I can hardly stand it!

Day 29: The Things I Find When I Procrastinate

Day 28: See for Yourself

I saw someone one campus today who had what I thought was the most fantastic beard. I clearly hadn't seen this one yet. 

Facial hair as fantastic as this man's is what's right in the world.

Day 27: Superman

An article that was recently written about my brother. I just love his guts.  

I'm about to get a little spiritual so all who are squeamish, look away. 

The fact that I get to wake up everyday and thank God that my brother is alive and healthy and happy is what's right in the world. 

Watching my brother fight for his life taught me how to live mine. 

This guy is my saving grace.

Day 26: Dear Siblings.

I think kids are fantastic. 

I sure wish I had nieces and nephews. Ahem. 

The day when I find out I'm going to be Aunt Meg will be what's right in the world. 

Day 25: Trevor is the MAN Part II: Send It!

From this...

To this...

In two and a half months. As Alyssa once taught me to say...SEND IT! 

(I'm not sure if it works in this context) 

Trevor's recovery is what's right in the world. 

Day 24: Trevor Is The MAN!

For a tiny second, I want you to imagine being 22 years old. What should be one's most independent time in life has become the polar opposite for Trevor. He gets to, at all hours of the day, have therapists, nurses, doctors, and aides tell him what to do.  I am in no way trying to discredit the work that the professionals are doing but can you even imagine a day where you were constantly hearing: do this, no you did that wrong try it this way, don't do that, stand up, sit down, point to the...., show me how you...., etc.

I can't.

Anytime I attempt doing so, I usually end up screaming.

Trevor has come up with an ingenious way of dealing with this. When he's had enough he simply starts of his defense with a dance which leads directly into Act II—my personal favorite—pretending like he's asleep. If you don't believe me, see for yourself. TREVOR IS THE MAN!

The following is a video of Trevor pretending to be asleep during physical therapy.

On a more serious note, Trevor has proven to be the most resilient human being I've ever come in contact with.  If you think you should be considered in this category, I'd like you to go through two traumatic brain injuries, six brain surgeries and four plus months in a hospital and then come see me. All in favor of Trevor's continued and progressive recovery say aye. Any opposed...well you can go fly a kite.

Trevor, defying all odds, is what's right in the world. 

Day 23: Desert Rocks

I live in a state where things like this exist. Enough said. 

Utah deserts are what's right in the world.

Day 22: Meet Taffy

Twelve years ago while I was on a bike ride around the neighborhood with my best friend, I found this sweet little creature roaming the streets looking for food. I took her home and asked my parents if we could keep her. My inquiry was met with unanimous and astounding NO. In protest, I pulled one of the outdoor lounge chairs into the garage and spent a couple nights sleeping there with her since she wasn't allowed in the house. I made a few half-hearted attempts at finding her a new home, which failed. And so the story goes, we ended up keeping her. Who could resist a munchkin like this? She has been the best dog a human could possibly have and contuies to be so tweleve years later. Meet Taffy.

Taffy is what's right in the world.

Day 21: Can You Say That Your Mom Has...

Met Nicholas Kristof? I can.

About a month ago, I was doing my nightly laps between the cupboards and the refrigerator in my never-ending and desperate search for something sweet to eat, when my mom said—while still looking at her computer screen— "Hey Meg, guess who's coming to speak at my school?"

"I don't know, tell me." I replied, thinking that it couldn't be anyone important enough for me to take a legitimate break from my scavenging for sweets.

"Nicholas Kristof," she said. She knew she didn't need to say another word.

At first, I thought it was a joke. I thought that my mom had spit out his name just to grab my attention so she could tell me who would really be coming—someone, I imagined, much less exciting. I immediately stopped my pacing and looked over at her with a disbelieving half smirk. The kind that seems to beg the question: Are you telling the truth or are you setting me up for a good joke?

"No seriously, " she said. "And if I give a presentation about writing as a form of activism, I can meet him."

I choked on the imaginary sweets I was eating (which is code for I choked on my own spit but that's just too embarrassing to mention) and stared at her.

"Let me get this straight," pause. "You're telling me that you," I said as I waved a pointing finger at her. "You could meet Nicholas Kristof—THE Nicholas Kristof —if you give a presentation on activism?" 

"That's what I'm saying."

"We must be thinking of different Nicholas Kristofs," I said.

"I'm talking about the op-ed writer of the New York Times, who are you talking about?" she replied.

I couldn't believe it. What business would an intelligent, forward-thinking, passionate activist like himself have in the Salt Lake Valley? (So I was being a wee tough on the state of Utah at the moment but it was what I was thinking. I can't help it) But it was true, she wasn't bluffing. Had she been, I was prepared to congratulate her for a joke well played.

"Are you going to do it?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. Followed by a million reasons why she shouldn't or couldn't do it. I don't know what I would present. I'm not a good writer. What if I submit a proposal and it doesn't get accepted? Etc., etc. This continued for awhile.

"I think you should do it" I interrupted. 

"I'll think about it," she replied. And we all know what that means.

But wouldn't you know, she decided to give it a shot and submit a proposal. And you know what happened next? ...

She was picked to be a presenter at the conference. She would be presenting. She would be meeting someone I view as a superhero. This is typically the moment where one would celebrate—not my mom. She beat herself up for weeks. She stressed about it 24/7. She came up with every reason, under the moon, as to why it wasn't going to work out. But despite her attempts to sabotage any amount of confidence she had left, she did it. She cultivated a beautiful and creative idea, she presented and shared it at the conference, and she lived through it. 

I'm so glad she did it because not only did she get to meet one of the greatest human beings on this planet, but she created something wonderful that inspired a lot of people, myself included.

A quote from her presentation that stands out to me:
"If you think you're too small to make a difference, you haven't spent the night in bed with a mosquito."

My mom, looking her fears in the eyes and telling them to take a hike, is what's right in the world. My mom looking Nicholas Kristof in the eyes isn't too bad either.

Day 20: Get a Load of These Kids

In the last moments of my life, I hope I imagine some of the glorious spills Alyssa and I have taken on skis and I hope I'm laughing as hard as I do when it actually happens. It is literally impossible for me to use the words which are readily available to me to describe the amount of fun I have skiing with these goonies.

Spending the day skiing with two of your best friends is what's right in the world.

Day 19: The Few Good Ones

Tonight I went to my grandparent's house for an overdue and promised game night. It was so nice to sit with my grandparents and be reminded that there are genuinely good people in this world. I adore them more than it should be allowed.

In the middle of our game, my grandpa started singing some old time tongue twisting song that he must have learned in scouts growing up. He finished the song, that progresses to a break-neck tempo, and looked over at me. I was sitting there speechless, with my jaw on the floor, half chuckling. My grandpa, my grandma and I all simultaneously froze, looked at each other with a did-that-really-just-happen gaze, and broke out in a fit out laughter. One that left us all with tears streaming down rose red faces that were gasping for air through the strangling cachinnation. It was great! After we had recovered from the hilarity, all I could think to say was, "Grandpa, promise me you'll teach things like that to my kids."

"Are grand kids an eminent thing Meg?" he said jokingly.

"I'm afraid not grandpa. At least not from me. You see, I want children but I want to skip the whole husband part. There aren't any good ones anymore. They've quit making them like you."

And it couldn't be truer. My grandpa is amazing.  He's gentle.  He's hilarious. He's intelligent. He's compassionate. He's  grateful. He's brave. He's loyal. He means the world to me.

Sharing a special, and much needed moment, with my grandparents is what's right in the world.

Day 18: "I'm an athiest"

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but I LOVE MY JOB. Well, I love the kids I work with, this much is for sure.

I was sitting at my desk correcting papers—It's what I do when none of the students are having any problem behaviors that need to be worked through. They were all angels today. Every last one of them. I don't know what it was—maybe they ate something funny, maybe the teacher was bribing them with cash money, maybe God was having mercy on me—but it was fantastic.

So, I was correcting their social skills homework assignment. This particular assignment involved listing three important opinions that you have and explaining why you have them. Right of the bat, I knew this was going to be a fun one to correct because they were all going to get 100% and what sounds like more fun than reading papers about the important opinions of teenagers?

As I was correcting, I was laughing so hard that I had to relocate to the empty room across the hall to finish. Here are some of the highlights:

H. writes: "I don't like when people feel like they need to share their thoughts about religion. I'm an atheist. My brain just needs cold hard proof that isn't there. If you have a problem with that, you will just need to get over it."

H. also writes: "I love and know a lot about Colonel Sanders. I just think he's great. I don't understand why more people don't like him."

C. writes: "I don't like it when people make gross jokes about body parts. I mean really people, the joke about Uranus is so old. Find some new stuff, will ya?"

S. writes: "I like my mom and horses and Temple Grandin. Other than that, I don't really care."

N. writes: "Global warming is fake. Al Gore just makes things up. I think that the sun is the only thing warming the earth up."

M. writes: "I hate when N. thinks he knows so much about global warming. He thinks that it isn't real. I think that he is nuts." 


 D writes: "I don't like artichokes. I love videogames. I think girls are weird. That is all"

The kids I get to work with everyday are what's right in the world. I just adore my job. I hope you do too. 

Day 17: This time a year ago...

It wasn't uncommon to find me looking something like this several times a day.















Except, I'm not a man and I was never wearing a business suit.

So, I went to see one of these...




















Except my doctor's stethoscope wasn't quite so large.

He knew a bunch about these...

Except the pictures of mine never looked like Sherbet ice cream.

He ordered tests like these...


















Except, I looked like this for a WEEK.

Eventually he found one of these...




















Except it was in my brain.

A few months ago, after being virtually seizure free, I went in to have my check up MRI. And wouldn't you know...that dingleberry in my dome has shrunk to half its original size. Hooray! Yahoo! Neato!

So, thank you body. I think you're great.


Being seizure free and having super-tumor-shrinking powers is what's right in the world!