I've been a little frazzled the past week or so - I hope I don't ever have to go so long between posting here, again. I know that having a successful blog requires regular posts about topics that go along a similar thread - so I'm hoping that I'll get that "thread" figured out sooner, rather than later. For now, what I seek to do with this web-site is to encourage. If that doesn't come across in some of the ramblings, I hope you'll remind me. But, sometimes encouragement comes from knowing that someone shares in a similar struggle as yourself. So, my writings may not all be sunshine and roses - but, I do hope that they remind you that you are not alone. And, beneath all of the different experiences we have - love can usually be found at the heart of it all. Love & Encouragement - that's what you'll find here. Oh, and some random acts of Hillary-ness. Like "Recess" - My experiment with recess for the past week or so has been a raging success! In fact, I've taken a few photos, and really plan to devote an entire post to sharing with you about my recesses, this past week - so more to come on that - but, seiously...ya'll better schedule some recess time on your calendar, right now - TODAY. I'm serious. It's that important. You'll also find me writing, from time to time, about my soul-searching that I tend to do. I like to read the bible - and I like to search my soul - always seeking to re-connect / commune with God. I like to feel like what I'm doing is in alignment with Him. Reading the bible, first thing in the morning - with a hot cup of tea or coffee - and the sunshine coming through the windows in my living room - that is the ideal way to begin every day. Usually, I'll just crack open my bible and read a bit - then write what I'm thinking / praying about in my journal. Sometimes, I'll have a book that I'll read along with my bible as a reference. Like, for Christmas, my Momma got me the Joyce Meyer's "100 Ways to Simplify Your Life" and I'll read a Chapter each morning - then look up the cooresponding verses in my bible - and spend a little time reading & thinking on them. This sort of resets my brain, calms my mind, and helps me to go into the day reminded of who I truly am - and who I truly belong to. It refreshes my faith - and drives away my fears. It's an excellent way to begin the day - in God's Word. Anyway, Stephanie encouraged me to check out this weekly bible study she's doing at Pine Forest Baptist Church on the book of Esther. It's a Beth Moore study series called "Esther: It's Tough Being a Woman" - and I went last week with four of my favorite women on this planet : Stephanie, Lauren, Ashley, and Elliott's Mom, Linda. We had such a great time - and I've really been enjoying reading and studying this book, so far. I wanted to share the trailer for the series with you, below. Hope you enjoy it. I'll post some recess stuff, next. :) And, I'll try to get more regular on the postings, too, guys. Thanks for reading, Hill

Welcome to the new HillaryBanks.com site! I am so excited to finally have a place to call "my own" - and to write and post as I see fit! I'll be developing and working on this as a "work in progress" - so, I'm sure you'll see lots of progression and stages as I share with you a little bit of everything that's brewing in my brain. For now, enjoy a few of my older blogs - which I've imported from MySpace. I'll be posting all new and fresh material here - so be sure to remember this site (or bookmark it). I plan to update it at least weekly - if not more. For now, In the spirit of all things 2009-Below is a video that I want to share:

To all my Oklahoma Friends -
If you live anywhere near campus - you should go to the Post Secret Event there on Wednesday. I SO wish I could go...I've been crusing the site for a year or so - every Sunday - and they never have an event near me!

PostSecret Events in December
University Oklahoma, OK
(Open to the Public)
12-3-08
www.postsecret.blogspot.com


If you haven't already heard of Post Secret, it is a fascinating social experiment that this guy name Frank started a few years ago. Essentially, he encourages people to send in their secrets on the back of a postcard, anonymously. He then publishes them on the web, every Sunday. Some of them make it into books, which he publishes every once in a while. I haven't bought myself a book, yet...but, I will someday!

Below, I'll post a few to show you what I mean. Warning: This stuff is addictive, and cathartic, sometimes disturbing, but almost always revealing.

Love you all,
Hill

The Invitation

It doesnt interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing.

It doesnt interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesnt interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by lifes betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
remember the limitations of being human.

It doesnt interest me if the story you are telling me 
is true.
I want to know if you can 
disappoint another 
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life 
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
Yes.

It doesnt interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesnt interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesnt interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone 
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By-Oriah: Mountian Dreamer

notoriously funny man george carlin checked out, yesterday. he was the first comedian i ever went to see, in person. that night, part of his routine was about being an athiest. i remember almost immediately feeling guilty for finding his brand of humor funny.

the truth was, though: a lot of what he said was so brutally truthful, it would make you laugh until your abs hurt.

personally, i hope he found his spiritual side in last years of his life. it helps me to sleep better to think that he did.

below, i've found an excerpt of one of his more tame stand up routines, about "stuff". seriously, with as much as i travel lately-this is my mindset, so often, in a nutshell: "what STUFF do i bring"

"Since every death diminishes us a little, we grieve - not so much for the death as for ourselves" - Lynn Caine

Every death does diminish us a little - taking away a portion of our heart, only to replace it with an aching void. It is this newly created space that seems to devour any happiness or joy I might encounter. Because as soon as I figure out that I'm partially enjoying myself, I am reminded that perhaps this moment could have been that much sweeter - if only "they" could be here with us.

Yesterday, at 3:55pm, my Grandma Ludie took her last and final breath.

And, I understand that to grieve is the most indulgent of self indulgent acts. It is the darkest pit of self-absorbed, self-pity. 

But, please-just indulge me. Let me be the first to admit: I am consumed with this loss.

I am so completely exhausted down in this pit of despair, that I can only offer you space to curl up next to me in this darkness. My arms hang limply at my sides, and the half-hearted smile I might have been able to muster earlier in the week, has crawled down my face-creating a frown...a grimace. The beat of my heart will assure you that, yes-I will continue to breathe. Though, my heart feels as if it is stuttering and stammering to keep pumping. 

Lately, it seems that every time I come home to visit, it is to bury someone I love. 

Last night, I cried out until I was sick. Even then, crouched on the ground and emptying my insides - I could not get rid of the sickening loneliness. The realization that death has severed another relationship. Instead, I just clawed at the ground - and shouted out to God.

"God, I know you hear me.

I know you can hear me....

Lord, you can hear me....

You hear me, right?"

*Stiffening Silence*

I know He never forsakes us, but is it possible that he turns his head, at times, just to allow us to learn something on our own? Because, I've never felt so alone or so misunderstood - as I have recently.

I can say I need help. I can say I'm afraid of where my mind is headed - and how it seems to be off the tracks and running - pulling me with it - but for some reason, people seem to shrug it off....

please, please don't shrug me off. 

When I was a little girl, and I'd become overwhelmed with whatever may have been on my mind - I'd go sit on the porch and sing. Usually, my dog Pokie would come and lay his head in my lap - and lick the tears from my face. He seemed to just KNOW that I needed him.

Even Pokie is gone, now.

I've been riding my Mom's bike every day since I've been here. I keep thinking that if I'll just keep moving, I can trick my body into feeling more alive. I still swing by Reed's house - even though I know he won't be there. Just seeing his "Probe Testarosa" in the driveway makes me smile. I love remembering him, always dressed to the nines, pulling into the driveway to whisk Heather away somewhere for the evening. I keep lifting my eyes, waiting for my own version of Reed to pull into the driveway. But, that hope dwindles day-by-day.

Sometimes, I get so exhausted from emotion-that I'll just go to sleep in the middle of the day. Last Saturday was one of those days, and I lay on the couch in my living room, and drifted to sleep. In my dream, Reed came through the back door of my house with a basketball under his arm. He sat down next to me on the ottoman near the couch, as I was still sleeping (in my dream). He pushed the hair away from my face, and he leaned over me and said, "Don't lose your hope, Hillary. Don't you lose your hope." 

"You are going to have everything you need."

Then, he pulled a moving photo out of his pocket, and he said, "I want to show you something." This photo had a small cottage / cabin in the woods, with a spring river running through the back side of the land. He said, "This is going to be your house." 

Then, he said, "You want to know something else? You're going to have your own little boy. You're going to name him 'Robin'-because he'll sing like a bird."

To that, I began to cry. Then, he got up, spinning the basketball on the end of his finger the way he used to do-and he looked over his shoulder outside at the basketball goal. 

On his way out the door, he stopped and he said, "Hillary, your spirit is not broken - it's just the grief you are dealing with." And, he walked on out the door.

When I woke up, the ottoman was still sitting beside me in the same way it was when Reed had sat on it. The sun was shining through the blinds at exactly the same angle, and I felt this warmth-this true belief that it was he who HAD come to visit me. 

How could he have known that I am losing my hope? How could he have known how much I long for a family of my own? How much I desire to belong to a man, and to have that man love me for me? For all the quirks, and strangeness that is bundled up into this mess that I call "me"? 

I think that sometimes God will send us angels so we won't completely lose our hope.

Last night, Heather found me outside crying - I haven't cried in front of any of the family. And, she just sat with me. She just sat and sat so I wouldn't be alone. When she finally broke the silence to ask me what was wrong, I confided in her that I am beginning to lose hope. That all those dreams that I've held in my heart of hearts since I was a little girl, playing with my Barbie and Ken - they are slowly slipping away. That I'm starting to believe that love isn't part of my plan. That perhaps God won't allow me to have a love relationship because it distracts me too much from Him.

And, you know what she said, "Reed used to tell me not to lose my hope, Hillary. He told me to claim this verse: Jeremiah 29:11 'For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you. To give you life and a HOPE.'"

I can't tell you how many times, recently, I've cried out to God to take me, now. To end the heartache and disappointment that I have with myself. In fact, recently, my prayer has changed to one of simply asking God for forgiveness for all the ways I've wrecked my chance at life...and, to just basically ask Him if he'd just ERASE me-as though I never existed. 

I'm searching: 
For the place I belong.
For the sun.
For a reason to keep believing.

In that frame of mind, this speaks the most to me:
"It is neccessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live."
Alexandre Dumas Père

Go hug your mom. Call your grandma. Ask that old friend for forgiveness. If you Love someone... please tell them. They may need to hear that so desperately.
Release it all, because it is all so small in the grand scheme of things.

Until I can write something positive, I don't think I'll be writing again-
Until then, 
Hillary

my heart feels worn out and swollen, just like my eyes. it's that exhaustion you experience when you've cried for so long, you seem to have run out of emotion.

it's beautiful this morning. the sun is beaming through every slant-like opportunity to splash light onto the living room floor. i got a new rug last weekend. i'm so stoked about it, that it actually makes my heart speed up when i look at it. instead of a "boom-boom. boom-boom." it sorta intensifies into a "boom-bobba-boom-bobba-boom"...yeah, this rug totally excites me.
it's just that it's so...so...blue. 

and so BADASS! 

i have always enjoyed feathering my nest. i really like to explore the things that bring me joy. and, i like to remind myself of people and places and times in my life that represent experiencing true joy, or love, or excitement. and to try and lay things out in ways that surprise and delight my eyes. for instance, i like the imagery of a stack of books. there's an opportunity and an escape that lies within those pages. you can bet that there are books available within arms reach, in most every comfy seat in my house.

and, birds. there are little birds unexpectedly perched on the lamp next to you, or that stack of books over there. all different sorts of birds, but i especially like the really fat chested ones. they always make me laugh.

recently, a dove has taken to cooing its soft songs when i wake up in the morning, and when i go to sleep at night. i am so thankful for that sweet bird. i'll sit on the back porch and read, or lounge in the hammock and just listen. 

it is the quiet times, like this sunday morning, when i am more able to be truly present in the moment - and not projecting my mind into that meeting next week, or the flight i still need to book. 

my daily inner dialogue, and my personal time clock have been on nothing but business, deadlines, expectations, expenses, miscommunications, validation, and problems being reincarnated. it has been such a nasty brew of upsetting toxicity inside of my chest. at this point, it has begun to become difficult to breathe.

some things are imploding, some things are exploding, and some things are expiring. nothing, at this time, remains safe for me. my family, my career, my home, my relationships, my finances...all seem to be a part of this massive upheaval.

all of these things seem to be occurring somewhere outside of myself. as though i am at the center of this swirling storm, and the chaos and confusion are colliding about in a slow motion orchestrated opera outside of who i am. it is fascinating, and i stand in awe wondering where i will be left when my life finally rests in it's new shifted shape.

it is in this space that i observe this:
our homes are no more established than a swallow's nest. our imagined safety, and our barricades of items that somehow combine to define who we are and what we're about - they mean nothing in the eternal scheme of things. the stacks of books, the picture frames and kaleidoscopes, the pillows and the blankets...they are, in the simplest of terms, emotional clutter.

and, no amount of officially hung and/or framed photo can guarantee that the relationship it is glorifying will last. no, in my experience, the frames LONG outlast the relationships that they so lovingly capture.

i've got a lot of photos that i've kept in the frames. i mean...the picture frame itself sometime even becomes associated with somethign that you've lost...doesn't it? so, it's best to not be reminded of anything from the past right now. no, not anything at all.

well...i suppose i'm going to have to grab a hold of something slightly solid, that will make me want to wake up every morning and take on another day. so, for now i think that it'll be that lil' turquoise blue rug from Pier 1.

oh, and that dove in the back yard. we can't forget that dove.

I responded to this ad on Craigslist last week.

This week, I have a new family member: Jack, aka "Cracker Jack", "JJacked Up", "Jigggity Jack", and my personal favorite "Jack Wack".

He is AWEsome! He fetches. He listens. He likes to snoooze. He walks perfectly on a leash. He’s POTTY trained! Duuuuuude, he’s a dream.

So, I’ve fostered him for a week-and I’m highly considering making it official.

So....without further ado- Meet Jack!

it snowed that Sunday. right after you left. big, wet flakes that land squarely on an out-thrust tongue, dust all surfaces like confection sugar, and melt immediately upon touching the ground.

it was beautiful.

i imagine you would have liked to have stood out there with me and mom, as we looked up at the sky, and the falling constellations of flakes. i tried to search for God's face up there...but, the snow kept landing on my lashes, and besides....i was blinking away tears. 

your bronchos played that day. and it snowed in denver, too. they lost by 3 points that night. for some reason, it just seemed appropriate, though. after all, we had lost you.

that night, i hardly slept. and, momma? well, momma didn't lay down the entire night i don't think. i could hear her bare feet trodding the wooden floor in the halls. her rhythmic pace was a comfort to me. it was comforting to feel the presence of someone who loves me so deeply and completely. and, from time to time, she'd peek in on me, to see if i was sleeping soundly. i kept my eyes closed tightly-partially hoping that in the morning, i'd awake, and this would just be another one of my strange dreams. i prayed and prayed that it all was just a vicious rumor. 

that was not the case.

i suppose the part that hurts the most is that i never sat you down and told you how i felt about you. and, i suppose the part that accompanies that is the realization that i probably never would have had this encounter with myself, if you hadn't left.

i don't understand why things happen the way they do. i choose to not think about the heartache you faced in life. instead, i want to take this time to just talk to you as i normally would. to tell you some of the things that i should've told you last christmas when we were playing Halo.

you are one of the most beautiful individuals i have ever known in my entire life.

i hope Nana Self was there to greet you. 

i went to your house last wednesday, and on thanksgiving, too. i didn't know you weren't there. i thought it was funny that both of your cars were there and you weren't answering the door. i just figured you were with your family. if i had known you were sick, i would have visited. i would have sent you my prayers. i would have told you stories to make you laugh (i think you know one in particular that always brought you to tears...that's STILL my most embarrasing moment, you know...)

i miss you so badly that, at times, it is difficult to breathe.

momma said that this is what you wanted. that you are where you always wanted to be. i agree. you are the lucky one. it is us, here, who have to suffer the loss of such a beautiful soul.

i always thought of you as my "big br-wudda 'weed", and i always will.

i can't seem to stop crying. i guess part of me hopes that at some point i will have cried it all out. but, it just seems so unfair. you were doing so much more with your life than someone like me....why was it you? why was it you? 

i want to thank you for always listening to me talk about boys, and my struggles and decisions with them. i want to thank you for reminding me of my worth, and for encouraging me to hold out for the man that God intends for me. i'm still holding out, Reed...i'm still holding on.

i want you to know that i understand the heartbreak you and i talked about. and that i know it more intimately, now, than i possibly ever have.

you, singlehandedly, fostered my belief that there are romantic men in this world, and that there are men who will buy you flowers, and sing you songs, and treat you like a princess. thank you for showing heather that sort of romance. i suppose now would be a good time to tell you that i used to lay in the hallway with my security blanket, and my ear up to heather's door, just so i could hear you when you climbed the TV tower to sing to her at night. 

harry connick jr will always remind me of you. 

i think you had the sweetest nose i've ever seen in my life. when i went to see you last week at the funeral home, i just had to touch it with my finger like i used to. i poked you right on the end of the nose and told you, "i love you, bubba." it was then that i realized, finally and completely, that you weren't there. that was just a shell-that your soul is somewhere else.

we made indoor s'mores the night of your funeral. just like you taught me to do...and, i toasted mine perfectly this time-just like you taught me. instead of catching it on fire and waving it around the way i used to do when you babysat me.

i ate some cookie-dough on sunday, too. it wasn't the same without you, though.

i am proud of all the things you did with your life. subseven was an AWEsome band with and AWEsome message. you witnessed to so many.

but, i still have an appreciation for depeche. after all, that's something i learned from you, too. in fact, heather and i listened to your tapes on the way to the airport...and she played the keyboard on the dash just like you used to do. we laughed a lot. we're helping each other heal. and, i want you to know that i'm going to be here for her just the way you were. you were her best friend, you know...and i'm not sure i can do the same job you did. but, i intend to do my best for her. she's being so brave.

i want to write a book for you. (maybe publish it in tandem with the one i wrote about your cat...remember that one? "booger's in the bathtub!" ha!) i want to sing a song. i want to share the impact you've had on me-but, i seem to be paralyzed with grief and fear.

this tangled up mess of words was all i could muster up...and believe me, i've been contemplating this for a WEEK, now. (i can't believe you've been gone a week.)

i wish i was more eloquent. i wish you were here now to hug.

i guess, what i really want to say is "thank you". 

thank you for saving our family (and i know you know what this means).

i miss you big brother.

i love you, reed.

until next time, (and, i'm sure they'll be a next time)
hillary

it rained tonight when you left.
i thought it was fitting, 
since it hasn't rained the entire 2 months i've been here...
that tonight would be the night.

driving home from the airport
i got lost in the loops and the turns
purposefully taking my time
leaving the place i knew you were.
knowing you were so near. 
nearer than you'll be for weeks.

sepulveda took me to lincoln, 
and the sweetheart within me decided
the venice canals at dusk might stop the burning sensation within my chest
might squelch the hot tears from burning down my cheeks.

as i drove over each arched bridge
overlooking the waterfront homes
and their paddle powered vehicles parked outside 
i paused to count the boats of blues and yellows, 
i wondered how much more complete this view would be, 
with your hand in mind, and the curve of your smile illuminating the darkening canal ways.

i didn't allow myself to stop.
a romantic setting has no place for a girl like me-
who is supposed to be part of a pair...and has instead shown up empty handed-to it's environment of beauty and acceptance. 
love and admiration.
in this moment, i am the one
who can only bring to romance's door
an aching heart, and a void-unfillable by anything other than you.

i bought myself a cookie
at our raw food cafe.
it's apple and cinnamon.
it's warm and inviting.
it's comforting me, and i devoured it. 
as the comfort subsided, that hollow empty feeling resurfaced.

i decided to head home.

walking to my car, the first fat drop of rain
tapped me on the back of the wrist.
"remember me?" it prodded.
as it began heckling me with quick moving droplets
and a cold, windy chill

i don't recall the drive home
save for the seat heater, and the uncontrollable chill of being alone
once again
alone
and pining.

by the time i parked, and was staring the ocean in the face-
looking down the hill from the traffic blurred street before me
i could see the orange and pink skyline
fading into the thick grey rainclouds that had formed.

as the rain began to synchronize it's rhythm, 
it beat down upon my head and shoulders, 
and i succumbed to it's supremacy in the moment.

let the rain come.
let my tears come.
let it all flow.
let it all go.

release.

i know you'll be back.
i know there will be a day when we no longer have to say goodbye.

until then, 
let it rain.
it matches my mood.
and it blends in with my tears.

no one takes the time to see my face, contorted as it loses the fight not to cry-
when the rain's curtains are shielding my face.

let it rain.
let it rain.
let it rain.

i welcome it.
and i turn my face upward to greet it's cleansing touch.

iloveyouandmissyoudesperately
i will strive, in this here and now-to let you feel my love surround you.

i will close my eyes, and let the rain soothe my mind, and i concentrate on sending love vibrations your way.

i hope you can feel me the way i feel you. i hope you can stand-arms open wide-looking up at the universe at large...and that you can feel my love showering down upon you. with it's freshness, and enthusiasm for life. especially life with you.

i love you
me