Facing Your Fears At Disneyland

The other day, I and six of my dear friends returned home from a roadtrip (supposed to be two words – “road trip” – but I like it better as one) to the happiest place on earth. Yes, Disneyland. And not only Disneyland, but also the beach, where there’s surfing and boogie boarding galore. And also Mexican food galore. Oh yah, babay.

But for now I’m just gonna focus on the Disneyland part...

FACING YOUR OWN FEARS

There was a point at the California Adventure park where we seven friends were attending the It’s Tough to Be a Bug 3D show (Disney/Pixar’s “A Bug’s Life”). We were sitting towards the back of the theatre with our goofy glasses on, enjoyin’ the bejeebers outta the production. Indeed, I personally was delighting in the show; it was lighthearted, fun, and well-done. BUT… Halfway into the show, I started to freak out a bit. SPOILER ALERT: It’s Tough to Be a Bug is a multisensory experience for any human being who chooses to delve into it. I won’t go into details deeper than that, but I will just say that a couple of the sensings are ones that I wasn’t particularly looking forward to having again in my lifetime. I had had them before, on a previous Disney expedition, and they left scars on my soul – miniscule scars – but scars, just the same.

But oh well, there I was, at that show again. Please remember to not get me wrong: I really like It’s Tough to Be a Bug, but the last time I watched it, I was much younger, and got scared a lot more easily by petty little things. Last Friday, I was almost positive that the select special effects wouldn’t be frightening to me, as they were in my childhood, but I wasn’t 100% sure. Sitting there on that 2014 afternoon, awaiting the specific dreaded instances, I knew I could choose between two distinct choices: avoid or “take it like a (wo)man.”

I was perched at one end of the line of us seven, but on the left end. The right side of the room was the only side at which you were permitted to exit the theatre. The right side of the line of us seven was where I was not, and so extreme evasion of the potentially-still-freaky sensings was not an option. Sorry, Charlie. Different portions of my brain and intelligence were debating whether or not I would decide to reposition my body, when the times of the sensings would arrive, in fashions that would allow my nerves to forgo allowing the sensings to attack. It would be cinchy to do.

But then some candlelight abruptly flickered inside of me. I quickly glanced down the line of my six friends (they looked so charming in their glasses – baha), and swiftly thought to myself, They’re not going to reposition their bodies. They’re going to endure every last special effect. They’re not going to be wimps. Don’t be a wimp, gurl. And so right then, right there, prior to the first strike, I chose to not be a wimp for the remainder of the presentation. I endured, and I ultimately learned that all of it was not as unnerving as I thought it possibly could be, and that facing my fears felt really, really good.

*Ironically this is coming from a girl who, as of last Friday, was apparently less scared of skydiving than she was of It’s Tough to Be a Bug show in the kiddie zone at Disneyland. Go figure. You may not be able to figure all day long.

DISCOVERING THAT OTHERS ACTUALLY HAD THE SAME FEARS AS YOU

After It’s Tough to Be a Bug, we seven bought churros and/or ice cream to joyously devour. We found a quaint short stone wall to rest upon. Our discussion zoomed in on what It’s Tough to Be a Bug was like. One of us (not me, but someone besides me) said that they were nervous about the _exact_same_special_effects_ that I was nervous about, but they ended up deciding to just deal with it. Just like me! If I’m reminiscing correctly, I think I extended my curled-up fist out towards that friend who had just spoken, and with exuberant jollity asked them to “pound it!” That was a golden moment for me.

HELPING OTHERS FACE THEIR FEARS

Another one of my six friends, Emily, asked me later that day if I would sit next to her on Space Mountain, so that she could hang on to my arm if she needed to. I happily obliged.

Upon the ride’s conclusion, Emily told me that finishing Space Mountain was a golden moment for her. I don’t know all that her heart was feeling as soon as she realized that she had conquered the daunting rollercoaster, but I have a pretty solid idea. She thanked me for being by her side as she faced her fear. It was an honor to be the one whose arm she requested to hang on to!

OH, HOW WE NEED EACH OTHER

Anytime that I really stop to ponder the importance of friendship… the importance of having kindly circles of friends with whom you can grow and learn… circles in which you find safe havens of healing… circles in which you feel camaraderie and encouragement… circles in which you find joy in encouraging each other… all of that… Anytime that I ponder that, I thank God for my own friends (and amazing family!), and oftentimes I immediately remember a quote that originated from a wonderful lady named Marjorie Pay Hinckley—a quote that goes a little bit like this: “Oh, how we need each other… It is a sociological fact that […] we need deep and satisfying and loyal friendships with each other.”

I believe that to be true. Everyone needs good friends—friends who are brightly positive and uplifting. I can’t get over how blessed I feel by having that brand of friendship so prevalent in my life.

American Alison

Greetings to you, from me and my betta fish Euphrates, who presently sits next to me, and lives in a pineapple under the sea...

Just shy of 100 hours ago, I found myself standing up, singing aloud the United States of America’s national anthem. I wasn’t bursting out the tune in a big-time sports arena or stadium, surrounded by thousands of spectators. I was in a calm and quaint chapel. And I wasn’t singing solo. I was reverently harmonizing with dozens of friends from my church’s congregation.

I had sung this song, in this fashion, with my congregation, many times before. Usually around Independence Day. That’s one thing I really like about my religion: it emphasizes the importance of cherishing your country, honoring and sustaining its laws, and understanding that it is a beautiful earthly home that has been provided to you by a loving God.

Anyway, about that moment in the chapel, and about that song… Like I said, I had sung it a whole bunch of times, out loud alongside a crowd for multitudinous years. Let’s isolate a chunk of the past…say…five years of my life. When singing it in that first year of five, I had to do a quick double-take of myself upon the conclusion of the anthem’s final note: Alison, pardon me, but did you just get emotional? How come you almost cried just now?

And then each year after that just got more and more emotional. Annum by annum, Fourth of July by Fourth of July, the song increased exponentially in its specialness in my eyes (ears, whatever). A hundred hours ago, I noticed that it is quite possibly the most sacred hymn to me, of all the 341 hymns in my religion’s current hymnal (“The Star-Spangled Banner” is hymn #340). To me, its meaningfulness is amplified to its peak when all its verses are expressed by a peaceable union of souls – as is demonstrated by attenders of Sunday services in a holy and humble meetinghouse.

So why, for the love of Pete, is my nation’s anthem so doggone precious to me? Can I pinpoint what it is that I’m feeling when I’m singing it with my peeps? Possibly. Perhapsibly. Well...nah. I doubt my capability in this context. But I’ll try my hand at explaining, and maybe I’ll be able to adequately describe a fraction of the enormity of what was blissfully boiling in my heart 100 hours ago.

By the time we got to the last couple of lyrical lines, I started to choke on my own Eve’s apple and I couldn’t utter the words even though all the galaxies’ populations probably did depend on it. I muddled my way through the remainder of the song, which was the closing hymn, and as soon as I sat back down with everybody, following the final “home of the brave,” it was time for the benediction. We closed our eyes, bowed our heads, and clasped our hands or folded our arms, and gargantuan tears automatically began building up behind my eyelids. When the solemn “amen” gently resounded, all eyes flicked back open, and my watery monstrosities were like Iguazu Falls on the Argentine/Brazilian border.

A Kentucky Derby of thoroughbred thoughts was racing through my mind, thoughts of what being an American really means to me. First of all, it means a lot to me that I live in a land that is overflowing with people, in every nook n’ cranny, who all honor their country – even if it’s just silently within their own selves. They know and love that the United States are chock full of heaps of pure beauty, and they share a deep respect for all that USA’s society has gone through to become the stellar conglomeration that it is today. We really have gone through a lot during the past several centuries. Through thick and thin—through scary, hairy, peaceful, and triumphant situations—we, the American people of then and now, have been edified together by way of experience.

Together we pledged to be brave as we initially declared our independence, which wasn’t without its repercussions; we needed to continue in our valor. The need to mindfully, skillfully, and courageously continue in our defense of freedom has not been extinguished. It likely never will.

Together we have trudged through economic swamps. Many of us have had our dog days of discouragement, during which we’ve wondered when we’ll step out on top again. The beautiful thing about that is that, while amid those times, many of us have also been encircled by genuinely good friends and family who continually encouraged us to keep our chins up. I’ve had that in my own life. I see it in others’ lives. It’s everywhere. Wonderful people who stick together are everywhere.

We’ve stuck together in instances when humanity was in danger. In those moments we’ve duly noted the urgency, and stepped up to fearlessly and faithfully help each other out, whether face-to-face or through prayer from afar. Often these are the moments during which we feel the greatest love for each other as fellow citizens and fellowman, and these are the moments to be remembered, in order to remember that love for one another is constantly important, twenty-four/seven.

Together we walk around smiling at each other, in lots of places at least. As simple of a characteristic that may seem on the surface, it’s one of my favorite traits among those who live here. Most every time you turn a corner of an American intersection (on the streets, in the mall, in the grocery store, wherever), the next person you see is likely someone who would be glad to have a brief smiling fest with you. I don’t think smiling is as huge a custom in other countries as it is in this one, and so it’s something that I consciously embrace.

Together we explore our own National Parks – for our own amusement, of course, but also for the thrill we get whenever we seize the chance to personally welcome foreign visitors to our stomping grounds, like when you find yourself sitting next to a married Dutch couple on a bus in Bryce Canyon, and you gleefully enter a conversation with them, A) because you get a kick out of listening to their accents, and B) because you’re excited to hear about what fun stuff they’ve done so far in America, and what things they’ve enjoyed the best.

It’s just a neat, neat place we’ve got here, folks. People from across the globe flock here, because they think it’s a superb destination. Loads of them even dream of living here, and loads of those loads load up their every droplet of courage into their buckets, travel here on their own, and strive to reach their chosen goals. That’s another one of my favorite things about this nation. Many of my favorite friends are those who have journeyed here from all quarters of the earth. These dear people are a big beauty factor that beautifies this land. We dwell in a melting pot indeed, and it is a very lovely melting pot. (By the way, this reminds me that I’d like to introduce you to Humans of New York, in case you’ve never heard of it before. Very cool.)

On a more personal note, I’m gonna start wrapping things up by declaring my gratitude to those who first got the ball rolling with our great country, the United States of America. Golly, those founding fathers were sure swell. I thank them for tirelessly constructing our fabulous Constitution, which has stood the test of time for hundreds of years, and has been the foundation for the life I’m living. No, like really, the Constitution seriously has so much to do with everything I’m filling up my days with. If there were no such thing as our Constitution, I’d question whether or not I’d be free to actively practice my religion, of which I am quite fond. I wonder if I would have been able to get my quality education and quality job. I’m not so sure I’d be permitted to embark on an entrepreneurial road, if that were my desired trail for travel. My favorite recreational activities: would even those be options on the table, had our country never housed the skeleton that it houses?

I’m even inclined to think that America’s heritage somehow correlates with the connection I feel with my ancestors, as well as family members who walk the planet with me now. My personal heritage is filled with terrific people who outwardly treasured this country. That attitude has trickled down to the generation just prior to mine, and that generation has transferred it to me and my generation. I plan to maintain that same attitude, and pass it forward to my posterity and my posterity’s peers. I plan to do it by keeping up with the following:

- My smiling

- My positivity

- My productivity

- My dedication to being a law-abiding citizen

- My respect for what America has endured

- My honor for what America stands for

- My remembrance of the divinity behind America’s origin

- My devotion to upholding the significance and sanctity of the family

- My sincere service to mankind and to God

I think it’s possibly the fattest-ever impossibility to uncover all of the ways that my close association with the United States of America has blessed my life. To those who mistakenly say that nothing good comes of the US of A, I plead with you to reevaluate. Hop in a time machine and study America’s history a little bit, or put your eye up to a microscope and look closely at all the tinier things that are awesomely indigenous to America. ‘Bet yer bottom dollar that you’ll swiftly discover just how wondrous your home really is.