By Sarah Sanchez

From shirts that show midriffs to bikini bottoms that only cover half of your bum – has anyone noticed the change in fashion trends? It seems like what’s “in,” is to show more skin.

It’s hard to talk to teens and young adults about going against the trend, but local youth pastor, Chris Kirish, at IgniteVPC, gave it a shot with a modesty-themed sermon last year.

Pastor Kirish talked about how bikinis were invented by French designer, Louis Reard, in 1946. Bathing suits at that time were more modest, only showing a small section of the midriff.   In fact, when the bikini was introduced, it was so scandalous that Reard couldn’t find a model to wear it.  He resorted to having an Exotic dancer being the first woman to ever wear a bikini in public.

Kirish went on to educate the students about a study that was done to determine what men thought of when they saw a woman in a bikini. Men in the study were hooked up to a machine and given a variety of pictures. When they saw women in bikinis or sexually-related clothing, the region of the brain associated with tool use lit up. Therefore, the conclusion of the study indicated that when women wear bikinis or sexually-related clothing, men see them as objects, not a person they can socialize with.

As a woman, I personally thought this study was eye opening on how important it is to dress modestly. Our youth looks up to us, whether we want them to or not. So if we’re wearing a bathing suit that looks like it could be underwear (or smaller than underwear), then our youth will do the same.

Getting a bad tan line in a modest bathing suit is the rising issue when this topic is discussed with women. But really, what’s more important: getting a good tan line (that you probably will be the only one seeing), or setting a good example to the youth in your life? Considering there are so many cute bathing suits and clothing that cover up, I believe that we can set a good example and still look (and feel) fabulous doing so.

Many believe this is a controversial issue, but personally, I believe that “Modest IS Hottest”.  Maybe our wardrobe should show where we stand.

By Sarah Sanchez

My family and I went to a baseball game together a few years ago. A talented singer sang the Star Spangled Banner beautifully, as usual. I’ve heard this song countless times before. I’ve done the Pledge of Allegiance every day since I started school. These songs were routine, just another part of the agenda when we attend a public event.

However, this baseball game was suddenly different because I happened to look over at my mom during the Star Spangled Banner song. There she was singing along to the song, smiling, and with tears in her eyes. I asked her why she was crying and she said she always cries during that song because she remembers the day she officially became a citizen of this great country. To this day, I still remember that day and that statement.

My mom was born in Mexico and she came to this country with her family when she was a young girl. Her family looked for a better life here in America and she said that’s what they received. She says she will always remember the day she became a citizen, where she waved the little flag they gave her and heard the Star Spangled Banner for the first time. She said the National Anthem reminds her of that day every time.

I was truly touched by that moment at the baseball game because it’s such a routine to hear that song for us natural born citizens. Some of us will sing along because we’ve heard the song so much, some will cheer after the singer hits that amazing high note, and some of us will clap because the singer actually sang the song well.

But what we don’t realize is that this song means more than just something to be played at a baseball game. This song is our national anthem. It represents our country and it represents the freedom we have that many around the world don’t. And it represents the many soldiers that have risked and lost their lives for that freedom.

We live in a great country, despite the flaws we may have. We live in a fortunate country with a lot of opportunity, despite that fact that most of us inherited that fortune by just being born here. So every time we hear that Star Spangled Banner song, it should be more than just a routine. We should sing that song with pride, listening to and meaning every single word. And it should remind us of how fortunate we are to live in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

By Michael Armijo

One day, my friend told me a story about a freshman in high school named David that touched me so deeply. This is what I call redemption:
David saw a kid named Ron walking home from school. It looked like Ron was carrying home all of his books, which was strange because classes aren’t all on the same day. He thought to himself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.” But he shrugged his shoulders and went on.
As he was walking, David saw a bunch of kids running toward Ron, knocking his books out of his arms and tripping him. Ron’s glasses went flying and landed in the grass. When David handed the glasses to him, he looked up he saw this terrible sadness in Ron’s eyes. Somehow he felt his pain.
David said, “Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.” Ron looked at him and lowly said, “thanks.” There was a slight smile on Ron’s face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. David helped him pick up his books, and as it turned out, Ron lived near David. They talked all the way home and Ron turned out to be a pretty cool kid.
Over the next four years, Ron and David became best friends. When they were seniors, they began to think about college. Ron decided on Georgetown, and David was going to Duke. They knew that they’d always be friends, and that the miles would never be a problem.
Ron became valedictorian of their class, and had to prepare a speech for graduation. David was so glad ihe didn’t have to get up there and speak.
On graduation day Ron looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. All the girls loved him. David was just jealous. He could see that Ron was nervous about his speech, so David smacked him on the back and said, “hey, big guy, you’ll be great!” He looked at David with one of those looks (that really grateful one) and smiled.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. “Graduation is a time to thank those who have helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach…but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I’m going to tell you a story.”
David looked at his friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day they met. Ron talked of the day he had cleaned out his locker. He talked of how he was distraught about his life. He talked about how lonely he was. So lonely, he had planned to kill himself that weekend. But he didn’t, because his new friend unknowingly stepped in. He showed kindness. He showed compassion. He showed, by his actions, that life is worth the struggle.
Ron looked hard at David and gave him a little smile. “Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.”
David heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told them about his weakest moment. He saw Ron’s mom and dad looking at him and smile with that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did David realize it’s depth.
It was then that David realized how important it is to never underestimate the power of one’s actions. With one small gesture you can change a person’s life. For the better, or for the worse.
The most compelling element about the story of Ron and David’s friendship is how it relates to so many lives. Personally, I’ve hoped that somewhere within my past that I’ve been a “David” to someone I’ve met. And what fills my spirit with more emotion is that I know I’ve felt like a “Ron” many times. What perplexes me even more is that I don’t know which role I’ve felt more often.
Someone once said “Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.” To so many, each day, this is true. I’ve always valued my friends with depth and sincerity. I’ve always believed in the importance of being friends, and the importance of having friends.
As the story continues, it emphasizes that there is no beginning or end. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. But today is a gift. This reminds me that giving the ultimate gift of friendship is what I call the inner spirit of your heart, that gives us the true feeling of redemption.

By Sarah Sanchez

In today’s society, doing things “faster” is always promoted. The latest phone is faster; Google Maps gives us the fastest route; the latest hard-drive is faster than the one befo’re; “get cash fast” emails are constantly sent; we want the weekend to come by faster; we want to know the quickest way to get promoted; we want work/school to end sooner, and on and on.  Basically, we are being told that faster is better.

We are so used to this lifestyle, that we don’t even realize how fast time is really going by. After my niece was born and I was an aunt for the first time in my life, I said, “I can’t wait until she gets older so I can play with her and watch her personality develop.” But now that she’s two and a half, I wish time would slow down. I can’t believe how fast she’s growing, and now I just want her to stop so I can enjoy her at this age. But I remember my first wish was that I wanted her to grow. Do you see the contradictions that we all come across in day to day life?

Society will always tell us to go faster, but I think we just need to take some time away from what society says – away from the busy routines – and just slow down to enjoy what’s happening in front of us.

When my husband and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary, we went on a cruise to Ensenada.  Here, we didn’t have cell phone reception or WIFI. We spent the weekend without phones and without social media. We spent this time talking with each other and enjoying each other’s company. When we came back, we had a new spark in our relationship, which we didn’t even know we needed.

My husband said that before we left, we were too caught up in our routine: work, dinner, sleep, and repeat. We were too caught up and focused on the future: house, future family, careers, etc. We needed time away from the world in order to gain a new perspective. We needed to slow down and appreciate the time we had with each other in the moment.

You may not have an opportunity to take a vacation, but you always have the opportunity to change your perspective. Instead of looking forward to tomorrow, take a moment to appreciate today. Stop, put the phone down, take a look around at your life and your loved ones, and enjoy the time right now. Then, cherish that moment, for these are the moments that make life worth living.

By Michael Armijo

I’ve always played the lotto with one intention: TO WIN! And when I thought about what I’d do with the money, I’ve always wanted to give my family careers, buy them all homes within the same block, and re-live all those days of sunshine that used to nurture my soul. It was a time and place I called HOME. But now that’s no longer an option.

I no longer feel that way anymore, mainly because I’ve realized why I’ve always wanted to do all of this. I one day realized what was truly motivating my yearning to help my family.

When I was in my 20’s our family would always get together. I think it was because my dad, the glue in the family tree, promoted that when you’re a family, that’s what we were supposed to do. We had to be friends, take care of one another, and love each other. There were no exceptions. But one day this entire philosophy died. Because my dad died.

Following those dark days after our loss, we soon fell apart as friends, and then as a family. We no longer speak, we no longer hang out, we no longer care for one another.  We never see one another. And when we do, we act like we care, but it’s obvious that we really don’t. We only call when we need or want something. We don’t even know where each other’s homes are anymore. My best friend of seven years told me last year: “I didn’t know you had a brother.” Subconsciously we’re allowing one another miss years of our lives.

In retrospect, I miss those days of love and friendship. I think that sometimes we did or said hurtful things to each other because we knew we were family. We always thought we’d be okay because we were supposed to love family to the end. We said or did whatever we wanted because we were supposed to love one another through thick and thin. Our poor judgment was always forgiven. All was forgotten. But now that’s not the circumstance anymore. We somehow came to the conclusion that we were no longer family. We somehow felt that we were no longer accountable for each other. We could no longer forgive, I guess there were just too many bad things that happened and those incidents somehow erased our blood line.

After all of these life changing incidents, I now believe that there are some places you can never visit again. It’s like being an aging rock star, or a former athlete. You have to somehow come to the realization that it’s over. Times have changed. Regardless of what you do, regardless of how you act or how much money you have, you can never go back to those days of glory. You can never re-live that time in your life, those emotions, or that love. It’s like the sun: you can gaze at it, remember its warmth, enjoy its rays of light, but you can never visit. You can never touch the sun, you can never go back in time, and I can never go home again.

By Michael Armijo

The hardest day of my life was a year ago in May. It was like every other morning with the exception that it was their anniversary. Mom and dad got up, went to brunch, went home, and then got into a little argument. My dad wanted somewhere to go to be by himself so he went to check on his rental property that was recently vacant.

I got home that night around 9 p.m. and found out my mother had called. Mom was wondering why dad wasn’t home yet, but it was like him to stay at his rental property and fix things. Mom wasn’t too worried, so I went to bed. A few hours later she called me again; “Your father still isn’t home yet, now I’m worried.” At a frantic pace, I went to his rental property and found his truck in the front of a darkened house. With a racing heart and fear to go in and find him, lying there, I called 911 for assistance.

LIFE MAKES A LEFT

I told the operator that I was afraid to enter the house by myself, I was afraid of what I might find. A sheriff deputy arrived and shined his flashlight on the front door. It was so dark at 2 am, I didn’t even notice the front door wide open. We walked inside and there was my daddy, lying in the hallway, lying on his side without movement.

I remember yelling; “He isn’t moving, why isn’t he moving?” The officer grabbed me and dragged me outside, calmed me down, and told me to wait while he checked what on was going on.

At that point I tried to convince myself he was asleep on the floor or just passed out. I was in complete denial that he would be gone – and gone forever – until the paramedics came. They ran into the house in the hopes of helping a victim survive, but three minutes later they walked out. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew one thing, I had to try to be responsible, I had to go home and tell my mom.

YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT

When I told my brother and sisters the news of our father, I received a different reaction from each. But the strongest reaction embedded in my memory is the one from my mom. I called my sisters to help me tell mom about dad, but they lived so far away they couldn’t be there for quite some time. I knew I couldn’t let my mom wait that long, she was waiting for me to bring my father home. I knocked on my neighbor’s door but they couldn’t hear me from their back bedroom. It was at that time I realized that no one was around and I was going to have to do this on my own, so be it.

It wasn’t the screaming or the crying that affected me so much; it was what my mother said. She was angry because she and my father had promised each other they’d leave this earth together. They made a pact. They had a deal. She was angry because he broke that pact. The deal was off. At that point I admired how strong their love was; I admired how much they really loved each other. So much so, they not only discussed how they’d be together, but how they’d leave together as well. I never knew this, and it saddens me that I had to find out about it this way. I guess sometimes regardless of what this life gives you, and regardless of how much you think you know, you find out that you never know what to expect.

A FIRST FOR EVERYTHING

Whoever said, “the hardest time after a death is the first year” was right. It’s been interesting and difficult. Death really does something to people; it really makes them change. You hear things you never thought you’d hear; you see things you never thought you’d see. That first Thanksgiving, that first Christmas. The first time one of your parents isn’t at your son’s sixth grade graduation or your daughter’s recital. Your kid’s birthday parties, your son’s little league games. You sit there enjoying yourself and then sense that something missing. The first time I felt stressed and dad wasn’t there to tell me; “it’ll all work out ok,” was my hardest. Dad wasn’t kidding when he told me; “there’s a first for everything.”

YOU NEVER KNOW

If there was one thing I’ve really had to push into my life is to enjoy it. If one of my children gets out of line or has done something wrong, I talk about it. I don’t scream and yell, and I don’t smack them. I never send them to bed on a bad note, and whenever I leave, I always give them a hug and a kiss (something my 12-year-old son tries to avoid, but I force it on him). I do this because my father and I had the worst relationship in the world. And then one day, for a reason only God may know, I confronted him with my feelings. We really opened up, laid it all on the table, and enjoyed ourselves. It took time for us to heal, but we worked on it, and in the end I had the fortunate opportunity to have a close and loving relationship with my dad. It was the fastest five years of my life.

We had fun, forgave each other, and told each other we loved each other. I am very fortunate to able to say that I don’t have any regrets about our friendship. I always wanted more from life but he always told me to “stop striving for bigger toys and invest yourself in love, because you never know, son, you just never know.”

SOME THINGS ARE FOREVER

There’s something about seeing your parents in enormous grief that does something to a person. They’re your safety net in life, they’re the one thing you can bet your life on who’ll always take you back if you failed out there in the world. They’re the ones that you knew would love you forever, regardless of what you’ve done or where you’ve been. When that gets destroyed or damaged, you come to the realization that you’re definitely, and I mean definitely, on your own. Life becomes this big “do or die” situation. Ready or not it’s time to grow up. You get kind of nervous that the encouraging source in your life is gone. The wisdom they provided turns into a distant whisper.

It’s kind of like when you were in school; you’d walk into the class and find you were having a pop quiz. You felt this panic overwhelm you, and you’d try your hardest to remember what the teacher told you the day before. You had no warning, no time to prepare, the test is here and it’s now. You never anticipated this coming; it never even entered your mind. All you can do now is hope you were paying attention all that time, all you could do was hope you were a good student. Teacher’s not going to give you any answers today; you are on your own.

A day will then come, when life tests you and your ability. After you feel confident you’ve passed that test you realize an important reality: just like the love you never knew that your parents shared, some things really are forever.

   Originally published in August of 1998, this is the very first “Our Life” ever printed in The Weekly News, and the reason why we started this newspaper. It was after writing this story that I decided how short life was, and how important it is to do what you believe in. This story helped me realize what we believe in. Michael can be reached at Michael@anapr.com.

By Michael Armijo

May Day is what alarms me. Not because of the significance in history, but the beginning of another “bad memory” time in life. May Day was a traditional day of celebration for laborers across the world, but can also be remembered as a distress call from someone in despair. For me, May Day wasn’t so kind.

ROUND ONE: A few years ago right before Cinco de Mayo, my buddy was going to the hospital. A simple surgery, not to last too long. Maybe a few days in the hospital. It was a “check” on something protruding from his kidney. Not life threatening, more like an exploratory procedure. Well, something went awry, and the laparoscopic procedure went to a surgery. All seemed fine until my dear friend was in deep pain.

Doctors thought of it as a reaction to a “first surgery,” that my friend had never been cut open so his pain was foreign to him. So they discounted his pain as “usual.” But there was nothing usual about what happened. It wasn’t until the morphine didn’t help that he ended up in ICU.

That night they did a CT Scan and found they had accidentally nicked his intestine, which led to his body becoming septic and he suffered from multiple organ failure. But the doctors were hopeful and he seemed to be recovering.

The next morning around 5 am I texted his wife “how’s mike doing?’ Her response was devastating. “He passed away.” I was in such disbelief that I had to go into my daughters room and ask her if I had been reading the text correctly. I thought maybe I misunderstood. I did not. He had passed and there was nothing we could do about it.

ROUND TWO: I remember eating a home made Cinco de Mayo dinner and then making a plate for my father to enjoy. I only lived a block away so I walked over there and gave it to him. He wasn’t feeling well, gestural intestinal problems left him with severe stomach pain. He was like a warrior in battle when it came to illnesses. So I wasn’t too worried. But what I didn’t know that this was the last time I would see him alive. The last time I had an opportunity to give him a hug. Of course I took the opportunity for granted and passed on the hug. Always thinking tomorrow will always be there.

The next day, my parents anniversary, they fought and he left. My mom called me late at night that he wasn’t there. So I proceeded to find him at his rental property in Artesia. After the police and the paramedics came, I was left to wonder why life ends so abruptly. And am I spared?

So May Day has a new meaning that each year I think about. I used to dwell on it and let it affect me. But as the years have passed, and the mistakes have taken their toll, I am left to accept the fact that life does change. It moves on. Sometimes it’s a sad day, but many times it’s a new beginning. It all depends on our outlook on life. It can be that we are looking for the next adventure within our lives or that we can sulk and dishonor the memory of those who have passed by being destructive with our emotions. Selfish with our actions. Self centered about our intentions. Harsh realities can sometimes allow us to redefine a time we can turn a call of distress to a time of celebration. Making it an enjoyable time I now call May Day.

By Michael Armijo

It was a story about a 9-year-old boy, Travis, whose mother died one day while at home. Without telling a soul, little 9 year-old Travis covered her body with a coat and placed sheets of notebook paper over her face. He then fixed his own meals – mostly frozen pizza, cereal, and soup – cut his own hair, and attended school without fail. He did this for over a month because he was afraid he’d be all alone if anyone found out his mother passed away. Her body was eventually discovered by family friends. Travis begged them not to call the police.

When I read that story I was very moved, to a point that I really wanted to write about it from my perspective. The feeling of loneliness, abandonment, the pain of being panicked at such a young age. Then a friend asked me why I sought out areas in life that are traumatic, emotional, or powerful. He asked me why I chose to focus on elements of life that are painful or disturbing. He asked why I sought to write about these emotions.

It was at that point that I put my life into evaluation. His questions made me think about what I’ve felt and what I’ve been through. It reminded me of a time I had driven by an obstacle that stuck with me.

There was an old, enormous tree that sat in my friends’ neighborhood. One day it caught my eye and I thought to myself; “I never noticed that huge obstacle in front of me before.” Although it’s been there for many years and I’ve had to go around it each time I passed it, I just never really noticed it until now.

I never realized what an intrusion this tree has become because it turned into an everyday routine; going around it had become a part of my life. I felt as though my emotions were just like that tree; I’ve driven past them for years, always going around how I felt, but one day I noticed this tremendous obstruction in my life.

When I thought back, I used to wonder why it took so long to be a productive person, and many times I wondered why life was such a hassle for me. I’ve realized that I’ve had to go around this massive obstacle, over and over and over again. But one day I became fed up; so I decided I wasn’t going to go around this huge barrier anymore. I will now drive right through the “enormous tree.”

It was never my plan to have to deal with such an intrusion; it was never my plan to have to examine the landscape of my life. I thought I was supposed to follow the path that was laid out before me. But somewhere along the way, I developed a source of confidence that convinced me that the paths laid out before me were vulnerable to manipulation. I realized that I could change where I was going and how I was getting there. And I realized that I no longer had to be a slave to life’s barriers.

I believe that it’s these experiences and desires that take you to the lengths of your life, giving you freedom and confidence. But sometimes you end up in a stagnant period when you’re forced to reflect upon unhappy times. During this reflection, you sometimes feel resentful of the circumstances that were before you because you’ve realized that someone planted the seeds that grew into this enormous “tree” that prolonged the success you feel you deserved. Those seeds turned into something that has survived and grown into somewhat like an enormous size. When you realize what happened, you feel angry and resentful that the obstacles in your life were planted by the irresponsibility of others, and nurtured by your vulnerability and dysfunction.

Although you cannot change what happened in your life, you could sometimes get stuck on a place in your mind. You can get stuck in the realm of reiterating a time that was the most traumatic. It’s puzzling why we remember those horrible acts that have scarred our lives with darkness and pain. But as my dear friend asked me a simple question that I had to ask myself, “Why Remember?” After hearing those two words, I felt compelled to just let the darkness go and try to remember how great life really is, because I didn’t know why I should remember such horrid memories.

So as each beautiful and warm sunny day passes before me, I will try to realize: The enormous tree that stands between me and my goals of a successful life may have strong roots that lie beneath the hard and dense surface. But the momentum we carry within our own happiness can uproot this enormous and longstanding “tree.” Because we can only be grateful that the few years we’ve spent as a happy child have brought tears of joy to our lives. We should always be thankful for at least having THESE wonderful memories. And we must remember: when little Travis felt when his mommy passed away late last year, a few pieces of notebook paper may sometimes cover the face of a painful sight, but those few pieces of paper will never make the pain go away. It’s at that point we have to ask ourselves a very simple, yet innocent question: “Why Remember?”

By Michael Armijo

I believe in the old premonition that we all have a special purpose in this world, but I also believe that each of us holds a special talent. We all possess “special powers.”
It’s not fable-like, or something you’re “born with,” but more of a skill that we hold. A passion we’ve spent our lives preparing for and defining. Something we are really good at.
I believe we all have something special inside of us, something that we grew to love, were exposed to all our lives, or something we’ve spent countless hours doing. And now, after dedicating so many years to this passion, we’ve found ourselves experts at that one thing we do.
Whether it’s a simple job, or a defined art, it’s our dedication and desire that makes us great at what we do. And I believe that there is no job that is demeaning or unworthy, just as long as we take pride in it and embrace that we’re experts at it.
Not all of us can quite claim fame to a particular ability, because there are only some of us that have found a route, or a path, that has given us the freedom in our lives. And there are others who have not. That path has set us free of having to create self worth, experiencing self-pity, and feeling selfishness. We’ve learned our special purpose, and we’ve defined it. We’ve perfected our craft; we’ve polished our crystal ball.
And then there are the others. The ones who haven’t seen the light, developed the confidence, or haven’t found their special purpose. They still spend countless hours watching the time clock, bearer to their insecurities, prisoner to their past. They hold a special talent that they’re either too detached to realize or too insecure to pursue. I know that for a fact, because that described me years ago.
It’s too bad for those who haven’t yet felt their own light. It harbors inside them, it looks for opportunities to flourish. It wants to come out, like an eagle, and spread its wings, to fly and soar above the earth. But we often clip its wings and often discourage it from taking flight because we are fearful or sometimes allow obstacles to get in the way.
I’ve recognized my special place, my brilliance, on a dark and lonely day. I felt pain, and one day, at 13 years of age, I wrote about it. I was candid, I was open, and I was honest. It made me feel so powerful and gave me so much freedom that I realized my calling. So I continued and I practice. Today, it’s my living. Tomorrow it will be my survival for retirement.
I believe that when we explore the secrets we hold special to our heart, when we pursue the special interests we feel we’re good at and love to do, we find ourselves at a special place. A special place known to few, an arena that moves mountains, makes us soar like the birds in the sky. A place that gives us a feeling as though we’re as fearless as an ancient warrior, or a common-day hero. A place where we’re at our best, where we learn our calling, where we find ourselves. A place in our hearts and minds that is and always will be there once we gather the courage to seek it out within ourselves. A place we are so comfortable, so content, so adamant about being. Where we shine and feel the presence of how intelligent we are. Because when we feel it, we are only embracing what’s already there. We are embracing something deep inside us all, a place called “brilliance.”

By Marissa Mitchell

I used to think it was a shame when everything good that could happen, didn’t happen.

Meaning, every time that I had an opportunity or potential opportunity present itself before me, if I did not avail myself of it, well, that was a shame. It was a waste. It was something to bemoan and regret.

Oftentimes I’ve wished to split myself into ten different “me”s and act (or re-enact, if I have regrets) out scenarios, so that I could choose the best one, the better one. Which one leads to the happiest life? Which one brings long-lasting fulfillment? Which one gives the most joy? I choose that one.

Musing upon (perhaps imaginary) “lost” opportunities, or simply wondering “what if” something different would have happened, whether on the part of my own, another, or naturally, has eaten away many a moment in my life. Many a dream. Many a memory. Haunted by the “could have been”s is not a pleasant activity to frequently engage in, nor is the constant fretting over if “this” is the “right” decision or not.

Let’s get scientific. Every event, in quantum mechanics, exists as a wave function. The Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum mechanics is a mainstream interpretation – namely, that a function (i.e., event) only “collapses” once an observer (such as you or I) enters the scenario. Thus, one outcome is realized. And we, most evidently, have a say in those outcomes. We are the captains of our own ships.

On the other hand, the Many Worlds theory (not that I ascribe to this theory, but it is thought-provoking) states that since this wave function theoretically never collapses, every single possible outcome of any which event is actualized in a distinct reality parallel to our own. So, maybe, somewhere, we already have chosen that “other” path and are finding out exactly how it is turning out.

“Could have been” is an obsolete and useless term and way of thinking, I have come to find. It is only in the here and now that anything at all is realized, that anything of value is decided. The moments that we have shared with others are precious, and while the “what-if”s may haunt us, the river has run a course for a reason.

Perhaps we chose it that way.

By Marissa Mitchell

Looking at the way in which people are fettered to their phones, their computers, their watches, their iPads, their televisions, it’s a wonder that anyone would ever be able to stay present in the moment. Today, I spent most of my waking hours in front of some sort of screen, running around in a fossil-fuel operated mechanism between screened devices.

It is times like these that intermittently I will experience a pang of grief for our current state of “being” and for the generations to come. Will our children and grandchildren be chained to the pixeled and coded world, somewhere in limbo between the life of the living and virtual reality?

Not only mourning for future generations, I mourn for myself. For all the lost time caught in a fantasy world of nonexistence of…what exactly? It’s hard to explain. However, I know that in that world, I don’t really have to face my own. Or, I can become so consumed with work-related tasks that the meaning of life completely eludes me (as though I even knew what that was).

The “being present” aspect that so many yoga and meditative fads are espousing is not less meaningful for being supported by what many people would qualify as “odd” or “hippy” people. At the end of the movie A Dog’s Purpose, the dog finally finds out his life purpose: to “be here now.” Simple. That’s it.

When my dad, a hospice doctor, found out his entire medical company was switching to virtual records, he bemoaned the potential loss of his precious “patient cards,” paper cards on which he wrote down all of his patients’ important information, as well as special reminders for each. Though then I was inclined to think of him as old-fashioned, simply unwilling to change, now I can appreciate just how much the tactile feel a patient’s card prior to a visit can mean to him, how much that can really identify that patient, for him, and for them.

I mourn for the loss of the days when families, not having these things, were forced to interact with one another. So much of our time is spent in virtual hypnotism, this kind of surreal immersion, that our most wonderful moments with the ones we care about, or who we may even come to care about, are lost to us. But we chose it to be that way.

I am no different. But I want a change. I want to live in this system of a virtual world insomuch as I need it, but no more. That way, when I come to end of my days here, I will have so many moments that I can fondly look back on of my very own, I won’t be able to contain my joy for having had them.

By Michael Armijo

“I am not insane.  I am angry.  I killed because people like me are mistreated every day.  I did this to show society push us and we will push back.”  This statement came from a note a boy wrote in Mississippi after he went to school and open fire killing two classmates with a rifle.  “Never in a million years did I think this would’ve happened here,” a  Kentucky resident said after another student open fire into an unsuspecting teacher.  Now these communities are struggling to find out why this happened and whether it could have been prevented.  Will we find ourselves saying the same some day?  How do we go about preventing this type of tragedy from happening here in our community?  Is anyone exempt from tragedy?

The recent shootings at schools and recent incidents involving students and children are on the increase and alarming.  I believe that none of us are exempt from tragedy, and I feel we need to prevent such tragedy, or at least try.

I believe the parents of these children are very much responsible for the actions of these kids.  As a parent of two children, a seven-year-old and a twelve-year-old, I am willing to take responsibility for my own.  I did not have a perfect childhood nor was I a perfect father.  But I’ve taken the time and effort to recognize how my parenting skills are and I’ve spent the last eight years trying to better myself.  Education, stronger health habits, counseling, and even forgiveness.  I’ve been there and done that.  Although I do not profess omniscience, I do know where my heart is and where my head should be.

As we’ve stated in our mission statement, this paper was designed to be a pro-positive publication that promotes education, communication, positive reinforcement, understanding, care and awareness.  We are not a forum for political power nor do we have a quest to be rich or famous.  We don’t want to change the world, we just want to change your outlook on life.  We just want to help.

In the last five months of 1997, there were four shootings, ten dead, and twenty-two wounded.  In each attack, a boy under the age of 16 was charged.  Child perpetrators that have lashed out at society by killing others didn’t develop this type of anger over night and they certainly weren’t born with it.  As a community we need to remember that it does take a village to raise a child.  I think it’s time to start watering the garden so that we can still stop and smell the roses. (originally written in Jan 1998. How much have we, as a society, changed since then?)

By Sarah Sanchez

I have a friend who gave an analogy to explain her depression to me. She said that some days she felt like she was standing on a ledge, barely holding on. She said that sometimes she felt like letting go of that ledge, but as she “let go” she felt others still “holding” on to her. Her point was that when she felt like giving up, she had someone who still believed in her and wouldn’t let her give up.

How many times have we felt a depression like this? How many times have we wanted to take the easy way out and give up? With the stress of finances, relationships, work, family, and busy schedules, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and defeated. It’s easy to feel like giving up and not want to get up in the morning. It’s easy to feel like we’re ready to let go of the ledge.

But as we let go of that ledge, we can feel the others that are still holding on to us. Maybe it’s our friends or maybe it’s our family that’s still holding on. Or maybe it’s just one person in our life who we have impacted enough to still believe in us. All it takes is one person: one person who hasn’t given up on us, one person to keep going for, one person who’s worth living for, and one person who will keep holding on to us. But, will we keep holding on for them?

We have the power to be that one person in a loved one’s life. We have the tools to show unconditional love to those around us and to maybe change a life enough for someone to keep getting up in the morning.

But the big question is: are you that one person who is capable of impacting someone else’s life? Or are you the person who needs to get down from the ledge?

By Michael Armijo

When I sat at my desk I felt this uneasy queasiness overwhelm me. It was a nauseating feeling as though someone had kicked me in the stomach, and although the beating was over, I could still feel the soreness. It lingered as long as my failure to act lingered. I knew I had to march into that office and begin my new quest of pursuing my dream. But I just couldn’t do it that day, so I waited. And then I waited. Soon, the wait went from hours, to days, to weeks, then months. Until finally it went on for years…… I was too fearful to leave. Too afraid to pursue a career I’ve always dreamt about.

How many times have you heard or felt: “I just can’t do it, I’m too afraid.” How many times have you heard or said: “maybe someday, but not right now.” Or the worst feeling I’ve felt: “I just can’t love again because I’m afraid of being hurt.” Every time I hear those phrases I have to ask “when did i become so fearful I just couldn’t make a move?”

I’m a firm believer in: “you can do whatever you want in life and you can have whatever you desire. You can be wherever you want to be.” A single emotion can hold many of us back (and has held me back many times), when fear interferes with a goal. A desire. A passion. A dream. When fear takes hold of those things from your mind and cheats your heart. It can take things from your family as well.

My father claimed he was a cautious man, he did things what he SAID was out of caution. I believe it was completely out of fear. He set out to do many things but he never did, although he had the means to do so. He acted like a pauper, but he died with almost a million dollars in property.

You see, we have the confidence inside us, the confidence we’re born with. It’s a confidence we deserve. I believe when we carry this and our ability, we become whatever we want to become. But when fear overwhelms us it starts to take control. You don’t take chances, you don’t roll the dice, you let fear overpower and overcome that birth given confidence. This is the time when you have hit a low in your life. This is a time when you paralyze yourself. A time you are actually standing still. Because this is the time when fear has become your master.

Friends—the best ones make you reexamine yourself.

By Julia Rohrabaugh

I remember getting this call from my mother telling me my friend had died. He was so close he was like a brother. He had been in so many childhood memories; he’s one of the people that made home what it was. I expected him to be in my brother’s wedding, to teach my kids how to rope, and be ready for a long chat every time I came home. Suddenly he was just gone. As I received this news everything around me went silent, I couldn’t stop myself from screaming, and tears began flowing down my face; the entire world was just me and my mom on the phone. I couldn’t hold myself up and started for the ground, but instead of hitting the chilled concrete, someone’s arms caught me and held me. I didn’t hear her come outside, but she must have heard something. She didn’t know what was going on, but she saw me in pain and just held me.

That moment always comes to my mind when I start to worry about something like paying bills, finding a job, or fighting with my sister. I was frustrated when I realized I was never going to get the memory out of my head. It’s only been a few months though, and now I am so thankful I still have it. I realized that this memory gives me a better perspective of my life. First, because it would take an incredible event to make me feel worse than I did after my mom called that day; but also because it reminds me of how I made it through that day and days after.

I had overthought friendship and love my entire life. Real love is actually very simple. We need people because life is just too difficult to get through alone. We need someone to share the hard times with, someone to listen, someone to say the honest truth because they want to see us be become better than we are. We need someone who understands, someone who makes us feel less alone, who makes us feel like our thoughts aren’t as silly as we fear. We need someone who believes in us—someone who reminds us of what we are capable of doing.

We all deserve someone, but to have this person, we also need to be this person. We need to be someone’s person. We just need to care.

If Not Today Than When? 

By Michael Armijo

I’ve learned many things about life from people who have passed away. For example:  I had a friend who always did something each weekend. He was always somewhere. During football season my Sunday excitement was to call him and ask: “where are you?”  He’d always respond with an event or a sports bar that I’ve never heard of or someplace that I would admire. I had another friend who would always reach for the stars and push himself to the limit. He would continue to pursue bigger dreams and expect himself to step up and reach for things other people didn’t have the ability to do. He passed away living in the city he loved and with the family that cherished. I had another friend who was fairly fearful of change. I used to encourage him constantly to reach for things that he felt he didn’t deserve but to first feel as though he deserved those things. He reached for some things but he was too fearful to reach for others. But his priority was to love his family and take care of them and be a good father. So the things I felt he deserved were different than what he felt he wanted out of life. He passed away with a loving family around him.

Now what hurts more, although his death is many years in the past, is the death of my father. He was deprived but still made a living. he pursued what he thought was the responsible thing and his philosophies were mild and simple. He reached for security and safety. Unfortunately, he could only talk about the things he wanted. He spoke of doing things he desired to do, always falling short of his goals Out of fear. He passed before his time and he passed willingly, as he felt he was done here on earth.

So I’ve learned that there are no limits in life. I’ve learned that if you want something you will get it only if you really want it. I’ve learned that the only limits there are in life are the limits we place upon ourselves. And I’ve learned that the only things we will ever get are the things we try to reach for today, and not to wait for tomorrow. Because tomorrow just may never come. Tomorrow didn’t come for my father and for my friends.

So today, as I travel 50 miles away from my home for the first of many one-hour singing  lessons, I am proud. Because these are lessons that I put off all my life out of fear that I may not be able to sing. I postponed because I constantly try to convince myself that “I don’t have enough time.” But today I am fearless. I choose to no longer wait for life to come to me but instead for me to go to life. I pride myself for no longer suffering from the losses I’ve incurred, but instead I choose to learn from them.

Today I choose to chase my dreams, today I choose not to wait, and today I choose to be fearless. Because today I ask a simple yet serious question: “If not today then when?

 By Julia Rohrabaugh

Children are taught graffiti is vandalism. The beauties of graffiti and the possibility for it to be an encouraging tool is washed out by its more common occurrences of destruction. Exploring new places, specifically the urban scene, awakens people to the power of street art. When they’re taking a morning commute every day on the bus in downtown LA, staring listlessly outside the window, bored and unexcited about heading to work. The urban landscape seems barren at times, when the stores are closed and gated, and people are tucked away in their job offices or home nooks. However, in this monochromatic scene with dull paint chipping away at the curbs, cars parked on the street and in between, there is a painted box on the corner of somewhere and 6^th street. There is a white face on the side with sunglasses on, and when the bus stops at a red light just close enough, the rider can read: “Thieve the world; dispense only the good,” signed by Megzany.

This quote seen by probably thousands of people every day, causing hundreds to ponder the meaning, tens to tell their friends about it, and changes maybe one. Influencing people every day, or maybe only every week, nevertheless with words on a utility box. How come this isn’t what children are taught?