Not in an elegant, poetic way, but more like...I'm exhausted trying to run around inside my head exasperatedly extinguishing fires just as more ignite. Reflected in that analogy is one of my greatest struggles--I am myself, but I also see myself extinguishing fires. I am also the one setting the fires.
And it turns out, I'm not really a very good firefighter. In times of crisis, I panic and end up paralyzed. I have a daunting paper to develop, and here I am writing in my blog instead, knowing full well that I am deliberately letting myself ignore that fire that is ablaze. Theoretically, I have trust and confidence. But why, so often in these moments, am I so afraid that I can't put it out? I worry so much about all fires, that I can't take care of them just as they come. I think I live under the false pretense that if I really think hard enough, I'll be able to put them all out once and for all. I know this is silly, and yet I'm pretty sure that's the paradigm I'm operating under.
Why is it so hard to let myself make mistakes? To just be where I am, instead of placing some unknown, abstract set of expectations on myself?
And then, on the other hand, why are there some things that maybe "shouldn't" be--by the more recognized moral structure--okay? Maybe even right?
Concretes perhaps? :) The dearth of writing here is just one evidence for how draining this semester has been. It's not that the workload is too difficult, per se, but that I question myself too often, which plants so much doubt. I question the meaning of this work--I want to help people. I want to know that what I do matters. So much of my mission, I think, was to teach me that I have to trust that what I do, the Lord can make holy. I oftentimes didn't get to see the fruits of my labor. Which always made me question whether what I did mattered. By the end, I think I began to trust. But does that same thing apply with my profession of choice? I think I want so badly for there to be a right answer for me, because that does happen for some. But for me--it just is. There are lessons to be learned regardless of my circumstance. I suppose these same internal struggles would present themselves if I were to change careers, or even were I to have the responsibility that I (think I) ultimately want. I love thinking--but is making a career of it the best idea? Also--here's a secret that I am afraid to reveal: I don't think like a business person. How am I supposed to eventually teach business students?! Why am I doing this?
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
The inner struggle
I have always loved this story (and various versions of it that I've heard/read). Also, it's on my sister's fridge.
(most sources give it the title "Two Wolves.")
An old Indian Grandfather said to his grandson who came to him with anger at a friend who had done him an injustice.
"Let me tell you a story. I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feeling many times."
He continued.
"There is a battle that goes on inside us all. It is as if there are two wolves battling inside each of us.
"One is Good.
"He is joy, peace, perseverance, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, empathy, generosity, truth, and faith.
"He does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. He saves all his energy for the right fight.
"The other wolf is Evil.
"He is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, and ego.
"The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is helpless anger, for his anger will change nothing.
"Sometimes, it is hard to live with these two wolves inside of us, for both will try and dominate our spirit."
The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes and asked,
"Which wolf wins, Grandfather?"
The Grandfather smiled and quietly said,
"The one you feed."
(I'm tired.)
(most sources give it the title "Two Wolves.")
An old Indian Grandfather said to his grandson who came to him with anger at a friend who had done him an injustice.
"Let me tell you a story. I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feeling many times."
He continued.
"There is a battle that goes on inside us all. It is as if there are two wolves battling inside each of us.
"One is Good.
"He is joy, peace, perseverance, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, empathy, generosity, truth, and faith.
"He does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. He saves all his energy for the right fight.
"The other wolf is Evil.
"He is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, and ego.
"The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is helpless anger, for his anger will change nothing.
"Sometimes, it is hard to live with these two wolves inside of us, for both will try and dominate our spirit."
The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes and asked,
"Which wolf wins, Grandfather?"
The Grandfather smiled and quietly said,
"The one you feed."
(I'm tired.)
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Moving in: Part I
Here are some before pictures...
Please take notice of all the natural light! And the fact that this apartment is more than three times the size of my last one. It's certainly not as convenient in terms of getting to school, but it's not like I have a bike anymore anyway! And it'll cost me a pretty penny or two more, for rent, more bills, and transportation, but as I'm settling in, I think it's worth it. And I can truly appreciate it now, too, (yes, mother) because I lived in a space smaller than my current living room for a year.
The entrance way:
The living room:
French doors into the kitchen! :)
The kitchen:
Door to the bedroom:
Of course nothing else is set up besides my shoes and clothes... :)
Bedroom:
Bathroom:
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
My ought-is problem
Just thinking...
While Hume articulates the is-ought problem, I think mine might actually be the opposite. The ought, I think, might be more real to me than the is. As much as I focus on and talk about process--how becoming is the point and part of life to be enjoyed and experienced, more than the final product--I am realizing just how much I stumble on and fight with what is because I cannot understand why things aren't as they ought to be, not realizing that what is has the potential to lead to what ought to be.
Still thinking this one through...
While Hume articulates the is-ought problem, I think mine might actually be the opposite. The ought, I think, might be more real to me than the is. As much as I focus on and talk about process--how becoming is the point and part of life to be enjoyed and experienced, more than the final product--I am realizing just how much I stumble on and fight with what is because I cannot understand why things aren't as they ought to be, not realizing that what is has the potential to lead to what ought to be.
Still thinking this one through...
Thursday, July 19, 2012
an update
Since I started writing at 750words.com, I kind of just stopped writing here. And actually, for the past month, I think I've just kind of stopped writing. I think this dearth might also be reflective of the fact that I have now transitioned into my life, where my normal state is much more introspective, and I was never really in the habit of exposing the inner musings of my soul via writing. I figure most people like stories and events, but I don't really have as many of those now that I'm back in my own skin. I mean, to me, this is what life is really about, but I guess that's kind of hard to write about for others, because I think it might be hard to follow along. Although I will be moving soon, which means new color schemes and more space!! So I'll be sure to update with that.
Otherwise, read on if you feel like discovering what I've been beginning to understand about myself. Probably the most revelatory experience lately has been reifying my conceptions of abstract vs. concrete by comparing it to others'. (First of all, can I just tell you how excited I am about the word reify? I think I have been looking for a word like that for so long. And I'm so happy it exists!) I completely (well, conceptually at least) understand why concrete generally refers to things that are physically tangible and describable. Why stories and actual events are the concrete things of life. But not for me. I have a really hard time trying to tell a story because I don't remember events as well as I remember ideas. I mean, sure, I can recount stories, but what catches most of my attention is the internal experience of it. To me, concrete is influence, change, affect, ideas, learning, growth. Those are the things that seem more tangible to me. Granted, they are not literally so, but those are the things that to me are constants that are, with the right eye, quite visible. Sure, sometimes I can be wrong. Sometimes I'm biased and I'll place emotions that might not be there. But the constant quest is to see more clearly and correctly. It doesn't seem so abstract to me to try to uncover the beginnings of an idea, to define knowledge and to understand how it is transferred and transformed, how an idea actually becomes knowledge. But a mechanism that turns to generate electricity? Totally abstract. Even though I can touch it and watch it move.
Being exposed to a group of local, urban high school students reminds me, too, that the thinking I take for granted is actually an invaluable resource. The way I view the world has brought me to the place where I am. I have influence. I can affect the direction of thought. It's kind of scary, but that potential also motivates me to make sure that I try to remain unbiased and open to new ideas, so thoughts can be guided by true principles, and not just by the way I'd like others to see the world.
The dual nature of man. That's another thing that keeps me up at night. I made a 2x2 in my head after Sunday School on Sunday and feel the need to share it. You might ask why it would even matter to do something like this, but...it just helps me understand more clearly. Along one dimension is the natural man versus the enlightened one. The other dimension contains heart and mind. There is a logic and a feeling of the natural man, and one of the enlightened or spiritual one. There are universal, neutral principles that can then be better understood in this light. For example, belief. The natural way is to prove through experiment and deduce through experience, whereas the way the gospel outlines requires faith, which is to first believe and then know. Maybe more on this later....I should probably work a little more.
Otherwise, read on if you feel like discovering what I've been beginning to understand about myself. Probably the most revelatory experience lately has been reifying my conceptions of abstract vs. concrete by comparing it to others'. (First of all, can I just tell you how excited I am about the word reify? I think I have been looking for a word like that for so long. And I'm so happy it exists!) I completely (well, conceptually at least) understand why concrete generally refers to things that are physically tangible and describable. Why stories and actual events are the concrete things of life. But not for me. I have a really hard time trying to tell a story because I don't remember events as well as I remember ideas. I mean, sure, I can recount stories, but what catches most of my attention is the internal experience of it. To me, concrete is influence, change, affect, ideas, learning, growth. Those are the things that seem more tangible to me. Granted, they are not literally so, but those are the things that to me are constants that are, with the right eye, quite visible. Sure, sometimes I can be wrong. Sometimes I'm biased and I'll place emotions that might not be there. But the constant quest is to see more clearly and correctly. It doesn't seem so abstract to me to try to uncover the beginnings of an idea, to define knowledge and to understand how it is transferred and transformed, how an idea actually becomes knowledge. But a mechanism that turns to generate electricity? Totally abstract. Even though I can touch it and watch it move.
Being exposed to a group of local, urban high school students reminds me, too, that the thinking I take for granted is actually an invaluable resource. The way I view the world has brought me to the place where I am. I have influence. I can affect the direction of thought. It's kind of scary, but that potential also motivates me to make sure that I try to remain unbiased and open to new ideas, so thoughts can be guided by true principles, and not just by the way I'd like others to see the world.
The dual nature of man. That's another thing that keeps me up at night. I made a 2x2 in my head after Sunday School on Sunday and feel the need to share it. You might ask why it would even matter to do something like this, but...it just helps me understand more clearly. Along one dimension is the natural man versus the enlightened one. The other dimension contains heart and mind. There is a logic and a feeling of the natural man, and one of the enlightened or spiritual one. There are universal, neutral principles that can then be better understood in this light. For example, belief. The natural way is to prove through experiment and deduce through experience, whereas the way the gospel outlines requires faith, which is to first believe and then know. Maybe more on this later....I should probably work a little more.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
just a day in the life...
(i'm post-dating this to the actual time of the blessed event.)
I found a little surprise when I got back from a LOVELY wedding in California! Well, more accurately, I smelled one...(I will say, I find it fascinating that, even without formal training or prior experience, the recognition of the smell of death is somehow innate.)
Maybe fleas are the worst, but this was definitely the grossest...
dead. mouse. under. the. fridge.
After trying to stay away from my apartment for a day, I decided it was time to scour the place to find the source of the horrible smell. Finally, after a lot of searching and sniffing (I felt like I was playing that hot/cold game...the smell is stronger over here! that means I'm closer...), I saw what looked to be a tail leading from under the fridge.
I pulled it out, using a plastic bag and a lot of napkins. (After prepping myself for a few minutes to be ready for what I was about to see.)
But even with all that, I could still feel that disgusting tail. It was wedged, so i had to squeeze and pull that rough tail. Worst thought at this moment was, "What if I rip the tail off the body?"
What I was not prepared for...
THERE WERE (BOT FLY?) LARVAE CRAWLING ALL OVER ITS BODY.
what's it like? Like this... (just not orange) TIMES FIFTEEN. (I didn't take this video. Just found it, so you would begin to understand. I won't even begin to describe the SMELL.)
Why?! Why. ;( :$
I found a little surprise when I got back from a LOVELY wedding in California! Well, more accurately, I smelled one...(I will say, I find it fascinating that, even without formal training or prior experience, the recognition of the smell of death is somehow innate.)
Maybe fleas are the worst, but this was definitely the grossest...
dead. mouse. under. the. fridge.
After trying to stay away from my apartment for a day, I decided it was time to scour the place to find the source of the horrible smell. Finally, after a lot of searching and sniffing (I felt like I was playing that hot/cold game...the smell is stronger over here! that means I'm closer...), I saw what looked to be a tail leading from under the fridge.
I pulled it out, using a plastic bag and a lot of napkins. (After prepping myself for a few minutes to be ready for what I was about to see.)
But even with all that, I could still feel that disgusting tail. It was wedged, so i had to squeeze and pull that rough tail. Worst thought at this moment was, "What if I rip the tail off the body?"
What I was not prepared for...
THERE WERE (BOT FLY?) LARVAE CRAWLING ALL OVER ITS BODY.
what's it like? Like this... (just not orange) TIMES FIFTEEN. (I didn't take this video. Just found it, so you would begin to understand. I won't even begin to describe the SMELL.)
Why?! Why. ;( :$
Friday, May 25, 2012
A clarification for mirnhoj
I'm pretty sure we've discussed this many times, John, but just to be clear ;)
I still believe that people can change. And that they do. And that it can be a really great thing. But I guess I will concede on the point that maybe people don't do it quite so quickly as I anticipate. I think being friends with me can be burdensome because of that--in fact, I think that that's why I am burdensome to myself. Because I expect a lot more out of me that I can sometimes produce. But, since this post is pretty much directed to you, and you expect an air of superiority from me, I will conclude by saying that at least I change faster than most. :) haha. [Partially to mostly] kidding. (The brackets here are used with their mathematical connotation, to represent a range, that my kiddingness falls somewhere between partial and mostly.) I am slowly coming to embrace just what a nerd I am. I thought I had, but I think I've actually been suppressing it for a while...at least with most people.
That's all.
I still believe that people can change. And that they do. And that it can be a really great thing. But I guess I will concede on the point that maybe people don't do it quite so quickly as I anticipate. I think being friends with me can be burdensome because of that--in fact, I think that that's why I am burdensome to myself. Because I expect a lot more out of me that I can sometimes produce. But, since this post is pretty much directed to you, and you expect an air of superiority from me, I will conclude by saying that at least I change faster than most. :) haha. [Partially to mostly] kidding. (The brackets here are used with their mathematical connotation, to represent a range, that my kiddingness falls somewhere between partial and mostly.) I am slowly coming to embrace just what a nerd I am. I thought I had, but I think I've actually been suppressing it for a while...at least with most people.
That's all.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Writing heals my soul.
I imagine most of you aren't interested in the specifics of what I'm researching (the guts that I think are interesting...or sometimes try to convince myself are interesting, for the sake of research :) ), but the topic I think is probably generally of interest. It's about how game mechanics are being added to tasks to make them more enjoyable, and thus done more regularly.
As I've been perusing dozens of apps and websites, etc., I've run across some pretty interesting ones, though in the end, I wonder how much they'd actually do for me. And then I found this one. 750 words. The point is just to get yourself writing--free writing. It's like blogging, but not, because I get to write the types of things I don't put here, or, quite frankly, anywhere out loud, because I haven't found anyone that really wants to listen, without all the drama of taking it personally, trying to give advice when I can't take it, etc. It's only been 3 days, but it's amazing. I feel cleansed. Because, as you may or may not know, I tend to think on the side of relatively a lot. :) And I think that contributes a great deal to my emotional extremities. But getting it out, having it written...it's better than just thinking it. My thoughts become more solid, even to myself. And I'm able to see my own errors and shortcomings. And somehow it's not overwhelming, but relieving. It's 750 words, because it takes more thought than a simple journal entry like, "Nothing new today." Or "PhD is hard." I don't know that I'm really motivated by the challenge of being put on the wall of shame if I don't do it everyday, but I think I am motivated by the potential to be 100%. Meaning doing it everyday. Even when it's hard. Even when I think there's nothing more to say. (Ha! Will there ever be a day?)
Anyway, I just wanted to share. Just in case someone else is in need of something similar.
Also, other cool things include the fact that there's a little bit of sentiment analysis going on. That means you can see how emotional your writing is, what you're concerned about, and your overall mindset. Whether you're focused on past, present, or future more. And whether I focus on myself or others more. So fascinating.
So I don't love that I'm more negative, but it's where I am right now, and I think I know it. But as I flush it out, I thought it'd be nice to see my progress out of it.
As I've been perusing dozens of apps and websites, etc., I've run across some pretty interesting ones, though in the end, I wonder how much they'd actually do for me. And then I found this one. 750 words. The point is just to get yourself writing--free writing. It's like blogging, but not, because I get to write the types of things I don't put here, or, quite frankly, anywhere out loud, because I haven't found anyone that really wants to listen, without all the drama of taking it personally, trying to give advice when I can't take it, etc. It's only been 3 days, but it's amazing. I feel cleansed. Because, as you may or may not know, I tend to think on the side of relatively a lot. :) And I think that contributes a great deal to my emotional extremities. But getting it out, having it written...it's better than just thinking it. My thoughts become more solid, even to myself. And I'm able to see my own errors and shortcomings. And somehow it's not overwhelming, but relieving. It's 750 words, because it takes more thought than a simple journal entry like, "Nothing new today." Or "PhD is hard." I don't know that I'm really motivated by the challenge of being put on the wall of shame if I don't do it everyday, but I think I am motivated by the potential to be 100%. Meaning doing it everyday. Even when it's hard. Even when I think there's nothing more to say. (Ha! Will there ever be a day?)
Anyway, I just wanted to share. Just in case someone else is in need of something similar.
Also, other cool things include the fact that there's a little bit of sentiment analysis going on. That means you can see how emotional your writing is, what you're concerned about, and your overall mindset. Whether you're focused on past, present, or future more. And whether I focus on myself or others more. So fascinating.
So I don't love that I'm more negative, but it's where I am right now, and I think I know it. But as I flush it out, I thought it'd be nice to see my progress out of it.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The doggies go to...
Boston Public Gardens.
Copley Square.
Anthropologie.
the Charles River.
the Freedom Trail.
the subway.
Yale.
the Philadelphia Art Museum.
Kelly Drive.
the Rodin Museum.
Logan Square.
Love Park (the JFK Plaza).
City Hall.
John F. Collins Park.
Independence Hall.
the Liberty Bell.
Princeton.
the Jackson Premium Outlets.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I never used to be a crier...
At least that's what I tell myself. Maybe these are all the tears that I never shed as a child. My sister left today, and I couldn't...can't...stop crying. I can't quite put my finger on it.
"Did you know that the people that seem the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you know that the people who exhibit the most kindness are usually the first to get mistreated? Did you know the ones who take care of others all the time are usually the ones that need it the most? Did you know the 3 hardest things to say are: I love you, I’m sorry and Help me?"
Anyway...
"Did you know that the people that seem the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you know that the people who exhibit the most kindness are usually the first to get mistreated? Did you know the ones who take care of others all the time are usually the ones that need it the most? Did you know the 3 hardest things to say are: I love you, I’m sorry and Help me?"
Anyway...
Monday, April 30, 2012
Like a child at home
I get it. Or at least, I'm getting in.
I really want to write this out so I don't forget what this feels like. After the anger, which is really just a lot of hurt, it really isn't about who did what wrong. Even though the strongest of strong temptations is to say that I am justified, that daggers have pierced my soul and wounded my delicate mind, even if that's true, I can put the pieces of my broken heart in God's hands. (Is there still a part of me that secretly hopes said culprit will find this and apologize? Of course. But the fact that I don't need that anymore (because a few days ago, that's all I thought would fix the problem), is the reason that I want to remember what I actually feel right now. Sure, I'd still like some resolve, because I just don't like when things don't have a finite ending. But maybe, even with words, they still wouldn't. But the thing is, now--unlike a few days ago, or yesterday even--I am actually in a state of mind where I could talk.) My mind and heart are aligned--where I've stopped creating unrealistic expectations in my mind and letting it go rapid fire, and my heart has caught up, has embraced what is.
I have never been good at being submissive, but I'm starting to. And not doing it begrudgingly, but willingly. So I finally get to feel what I think He has been promising me the whole time, if I would have just let Him in. I was leading choir on Sunday and explaining how the dynamic of the song needed to follow the meaning of the words. And as I described the chorus, I knew--No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home. I hate crying in public (but as a new friend reminded me, there's nothing wrong with crying; one day I hope I'll really be able to believe that...), but these tears felt so good. I have been a stranger to Him; I have felt apprehensive about being in His presence; but now, now I feel like a child. For the loneliness that I have felt in the deepest, deepest part of me for so long, it is finally being filled. And I guess it's not ironic, that at the same time, all the people who I have loved, and had felt so painfully separate from, seem so much more present. And almost like I love them all better. Because I am loved. And I have let Him love me. (It's frustrating, because words just don't capture what this feels like. Or just how intense a process it has been to let Him love me. But what else do I have but words to record this?) I realize, too, that I could not have asked for this sooner. I am stubborn, and until I was broken like this, I wouldn't have been able to choose submission in the hardest moments.
My computer hadn't been playing DVDs for the past month (maybe as another way, too, of making sure I stayed at least somewhat focused), but I came home Saturday night and was hurting. A lot. Not angry. Just hurt. And I prayed that God would just be with me as I watched Tangled til I fell asleep. I (pride myself on) never asking for things like this--usually I keep fighting it, thinking I can get through it, or try to fix the problem myself (usually by thinking about it, which makes things worse), or...probably other things--but that's when I felt most like a child. It was just something small. I needed to know that He was here. Now. Not that I could push myself, yet further, to keep believing in the one day that everything comes out in the wash. But that I could feel Him now. I think I can ask for that sometimes. And He came. And He stayed. There's still a part of me that feels like I'm taking advantage of Him; that I can't ask for things too often. And there probably is a reasonable limit. But right now, I feel surrounded by His embrace, and I know that even when I can't feel it like this, because sometimes He has to let go, the hope He has given me is no less real. I believe Him! I believe that He really will take care of me. This is the love I have looked everywhere for. This is the taste of Home. And why it's all worth it. Even if nothing turns out how I planned.
I really want to write this out so I don't forget what this feels like. After the anger, which is really just a lot of hurt, it really isn't about who did what wrong. Even though the strongest of strong temptations is to say that I am justified, that daggers have pierced my soul and wounded my delicate mind, even if that's true, I can put the pieces of my broken heart in God's hands. (Is there still a part of me that secretly hopes said culprit will find this and apologize? Of course. But the fact that I don't need that anymore (because a few days ago, that's all I thought would fix the problem), is the reason that I want to remember what I actually feel right now. Sure, I'd still like some resolve, because I just don't like when things don't have a finite ending. But maybe, even with words, they still wouldn't. But the thing is, now--unlike a few days ago, or yesterday even--I am actually in a state of mind where I could talk.) My mind and heart are aligned--where I've stopped creating unrealistic expectations in my mind and letting it go rapid fire, and my heart has caught up, has embraced what is.
I have never been good at being submissive, but I'm starting to. And not doing it begrudgingly, but willingly. So I finally get to feel what I think He has been promising me the whole time, if I would have just let Him in. I was leading choir on Sunday and explaining how the dynamic of the song needed to follow the meaning of the words. And as I described the chorus, I knew--No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home. I hate crying in public (but as a new friend reminded me, there's nothing wrong with crying; one day I hope I'll really be able to believe that...), but these tears felt so good. I have been a stranger to Him; I have felt apprehensive about being in His presence; but now, now I feel like a child. For the loneliness that I have felt in the deepest, deepest part of me for so long, it is finally being filled. And I guess it's not ironic, that at the same time, all the people who I have loved, and had felt so painfully separate from, seem so much more present. And almost like I love them all better. Because I am loved. And I have let Him love me. (It's frustrating, because words just don't capture what this feels like. Or just how intense a process it has been to let Him love me. But what else do I have but words to record this?) I realize, too, that I could not have asked for this sooner. I am stubborn, and until I was broken like this, I wouldn't have been able to choose submission in the hardest moments.
My computer hadn't been playing DVDs for the past month (maybe as another way, too, of making sure I stayed at least somewhat focused), but I came home Saturday night and was hurting. A lot. Not angry. Just hurt. And I prayed that God would just be with me as I watched Tangled til I fell asleep. I (pride myself on) never asking for things like this--usually I keep fighting it, thinking I can get through it, or try to fix the problem myself (usually by thinking about it, which makes things worse), or...probably other things--but that's when I felt most like a child. It was just something small. I needed to know that He was here. Now. Not that I could push myself, yet further, to keep believing in the one day that everything comes out in the wash. But that I could feel Him now. I think I can ask for that sometimes. And He came. And He stayed. There's still a part of me that feels like I'm taking advantage of Him; that I can't ask for things too often. And there probably is a reasonable limit. But right now, I feel surrounded by His embrace, and I know that even when I can't feel it like this, because sometimes He has to let go, the hope He has given me is no less real. I believe Him! I believe that He really will take care of me. This is the love I have looked everywhere for. This is the taste of Home. And why it's all worth it. Even if nothing turns out how I planned.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Choice and Accountability
So, I got to speak at church yesterday, and I actually kind of liked my talk (still don't like speaking though). So I'm just going to post it. Please appreciate that yes, I do, in fact, write my talks with footnotes.
What I love (and what sometimes
drives me crazy) about the gospel is how simple, and yet infinitely deep, it
is. In speaking about any topic, we could probably find it well summarized in a
sentence or two. In the Young Women pamphlet under Choice and Accountability, it clearly states, “I will choose good
over evil and will accept responsibility for my decisions.”[1]
While this is simple,
straightforward, and clear, what gets tricky is that simple is rarely the same
thing as easy, especially in the gospel.[2]
My favorite example of this is probably when Lehi explains the choice to us—we
are “free to choose liberty and eternal life…or…captivity and death.”[3]
I think we’d be hard pressed to find anyone who would openly declare his choice
to be captivity and death. And yet…
So, if I may, I am going to delve a
little deeper into the principles of choice and accountability, and discuss why
this principle is still kind of hard to live by; to do so, I have only my own
experience, but I trust that you will let the Spirit relay to you the
principles that are relevant to your own circumstances.
(As a disclaimer, I am more
theoretically- and abstractly-minded, which is probably going to shine through
here. So, more than following me completely, I hope that something I say will
spark an idea or thought in your mind that will then allow the Spirit to enter
in and teach you what is relevant for you.)
Choice
arises out of agency, which is “the power to think, choose, and act for
ourselves.”[4] In
order to even make a choice, though, we must be “enticed by the one or the
other.”[5]
As Lehi explains, there must be opposition. While the ultimate opposition is
between good and evil, choices also arise out of opposing ideas that are not
“opposites” in the strictest sense. For example, choosing a major isn’t
necessarily between art or science, but your choices oppose one another in the
sense that each appeals to you in a different way, and you cannot choose one
without excluding the others.
Sometimes this part, before I even
really get to the part of actually making
the choice, is the hardest, and where I get stuck the most. Sometimes I stay a
little longer than I know I should in the “valley of decision.”[6]
A lot of times, this happens because of fear, which appears in “divers ways and
means”[7]
that I think I ought not to go into here. I know sometimes I trick myself into
believing that in waiting, I can evade the accountability that is associated
with whatever choice I make—because choosing one means I am deliberately not choosing others. Sometimes this
means waiting so that ultimately, someone else will make the choice for me, or that eventually, by
circumstance, my options will be narrowed down to a pool of one; sometimes I
realize I want to be commanded in all
things.[8]
I think this is most obvious at the
cusp of commitment, and the more serious the decision, the more intense the
paralysis. I will spare you from relationship examples, though they are
plentiful, and stick with a simpler example. I am experiencing this currently
with my program—I am to select a topic which I will devote countless hours to
researching and writing about. Right now I have a few ideas in mind, but I
don’t know which idea paths will turn out to be duds, and which will be fruitful.
So probably the majority of the time when I complain about its being hard, the
hard is actually a result of my not being accountable for the fact that I am
exerting all of my energy to either stretch myself down all paths, or to stand
at the crossroads and choose nothing, rather than choosing one, accepting that
there are other paths I might have taken, and then proceed forward, without
regret.
The biggest problem in this
indecision (which I realized as I was writing this) is that God has no part in
it, beyond my wishing that He would just tell me what to do. Sharon G. Larsen
explained, “Sometimes we want freedom without consequences, to stay neutral,
undecided, uncommitted—it is in this atmosphere we become vulnerable to the
influence of Satan.”[9]
In these moments, I have forgotten or do not trust in God’s plan and am not
relying on the faith which He has previously granted me. If I am honest with
myself, I am subscribing to the belief that God has planned for only one way to
get through things, and if I make a mistake, Christ will not be there, with His
atoning sacrifice, to help me repair or to change. Now don’t get me wrong—there
are times and seasons for everything,[10]
including waiting[11];
even God, in His command to be not slothful, does not say that we do everything of our own free will, but many things.[12]
This is why it is crucial to do
things by the Spirit, for He will be the one to gently prod and ask, “How long
halt ye between two opinions?”[13]
when it is time to decide.
I have already taken up probably
half my time talking about this pre-choice stage, but I would like to spend
time talking about when we actually choose, as well. There are two, in
particular, which my thoughts keep coming back to (probably because they are
two of my favorite things to talk about). Again, they are pretty abstract
ideas, but I hope that you are paying attention more to the Spirit than the
construction of this talk.
Were I to boil down my own struggle
in choosing between liberty and eternal life and captivity and death, these are
the two things that, for me personally, are the hardest.
The first is love. I firmly believe
that love is a choice. I guess there is that part about falling in love, but that’s
not what I’m interested in (or qualified to) talk about. I think Marvin J.
Ashton summarized best what it means to choose to love. He states, “Perhaps the
greatest charity comes when we are kind to each other, when we don’t judge or
categorize someone else, when we simply give each other the benefit of the
doubt or remain quiet. Charity is accepting someone’s differences, weaknesses,
and shortcomings; having patience with someone who has let us down; or
resisting the impulse to become offended when someone doesn’t handle something
the way we might have hoped. Charity is refusing to take advantage of another’s
weakness and being willing to forgive someone who has hurt us. Charity is
expecting the best of each other.”[14]
I could talk about this for hours and hours, not because I am so capable of loving
like this, but because I want so much to be able to—to pick apart what it means
to be kind, how to stop judging, how to hope for someone to change and yet
still embrace the person they currently are. But I will save those thoughts for
another time, and summarize by saying that I think the principle of
accountability is an integral part of this choice to love—to love genuinely is
to love responsibly. Expecting the best of each other doesn’t mean a pat on the
back, a “good luck” for the future, and then we just move on our way. In love,
we are to bear one another’s burdens because we realize we are all headed to
the same place; we lift up the hands which hang down, even when it might be
inconvenient; we love, and we allow others to love us too.
I know that for the time being, we
are imperfect; I also know that many of you are much more innately loving than
I am, and so you might not have to face this choice as frequently as I do. But,
regardless of frequency, we will all have the choice to love presented to us, most
likely in small ways—when we are enticed by the one, to blame or to be
offended, to hold it against someone for hurting us, but also reminded to by
the other to forgive, whether by the light of Christ or by the Spirit—and we
must choose our response. I pray that we will have the strength to choose to
love. I know that these are the very acts that demonstrate to Heavenly Father
that we are choosing to yield to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, to put off
the natural man, and to become saints.[15]
However small these acts, these are the very ones that “prepare the solid
ground on which our edifice of faith is built.”[16]
They are slowly teaching and helping us to become more like Heavenly Father and
Jesus Christ, and refining us to become more fitted to live with Them and each
other for the eternities.[17]
The last choice is one I find
fascinatingly difficult and somewhat counterintuitive. It is to believe in and
to believe Christ, to accept Him as my Savior. It is counterintuitive to me
because, at least when I think of choice, I think that to choose successfully,
I must make these choices on my own. I think I have in my head sometimes this
notion that, in the end, I will show Christ what I have done and what I have
chosen, and He will, essentially, pass or fail me. But I am learning that this
is not His role in our lives. He, better than any other, offers His yoke to us[18];
a subtle but significant nuance in this is that He offers us His yoke, as we rest from ours. When we
choose to set aside our own wills, and choose to live in the way He has
directed—striving to follow His gospel, living His commandments, making and
keeping promises through covenants—we are slowly and steadily progressing
towards liberty and eternal life. It may seem strange, and again
counterintuitive and even burdensome at first, that this trek towards liberty
involves a yoke, but I KNOW that this
is where true freedom and joy are found. I know that His yoke is easy—not easy
as it is the opposite of hard, but as the opposite of uneasy. It can be, at
first, very uncomfortable, as any change is prone to be, but as our
relationship with the Savior grows, we will be released from so much of the
uneasiness about life—the anxiety, the restlessness, the fear that accompanies
us when we try to do things without Him. It can be difficult because the
rewards from following Him are often not immediate[19]
and because sometimes it is simply hard to hear His voice—but as we make this
deliberate choice to follow Him, placing our trust in Him by casting aside our
doubts and our fears (which, granted, is no easy task), we show Him that we are
willing to be accountable, responsible, for the choice to follow Him, and in
this our faith is increased. We choose Him and the work that accompanies the
salvation we desire and hope for,[20]
deliberately choosing to set aside other things, like fitting in, or receiving
others’ approval, or even the comfort of not having all your weakness exposed.
Though we are prone to wander, let us be a little better about choosing to give
our hearts to Him.[21]
Since I get to pick the hymns, I
picked this next one strategically.[22]
As we sing it, my prayer is that we each have the strength to make the choices
that will lead us back to Heavenly Father, that rather than choosing to see our
own path, we choose to let Him lead us forward, not asking for more than one
step at a time.
[1] http://www.lds.org/young-women/personal-progress/choice-and-accountability?lang=eng
[2]
Alma 37:44
[3] 2
Nephi 2:27
[4]
Sharon G. Larsen, Agency—A Blessing and a
Burden, November 1999 General Conference
[5] 2
Nephi 2:16
[6]
Joel 3:14
[7]
Mosiah 4:29
[8]
D&C 58:26
[9]
Sharon G. Larsen, Agency—A Blessing and a
Burden, November 1999 General Conference
[10]
Ecclesiastes 3:1
[11]
Henry B. Eyring, Mountains to Climb, April
2012 General Conference
[12]
D&C 58:27
[13] 1
Kings 18:21
[14]
Marvin J. Ashton, The Tongue Can Be a
Sharp Sword, April 1992 General Conference
[15]
Mosiah 3:19
[16]
Henry B. Eyring, Mountains to Climb,
April 2012 General Conference
[17] Dallin
H. Oaks, The Challenge to Become,
October 2000 General Conference
[18]
Matthew 11:28-30
[19]
Neal A. Maxwell, Lest Ye Be Weary and
Faint in Your Minds, April 1991 General Conference
[20]
Philippians 2:12
[21] Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing
[22] Lead, Kindly Light, Hymn 97
Friday, April 6, 2012
Strong opinions, weakly held
I think this is my new goal. To really understand what this means, and to actually implement it. This is what I need to keep me fueled--especially because I think I've finally decided that this is the career path I choose. No, I don't love all parts of it. Yes, it scares me like crazy when I allow myself to peek into the future I project, and the kind of character and confidence I need to be able to endure and be the kind of scholar/researcher/professor/person I want to be.
But, inspired by Karl Weick, I remember why I wanted to do this in the first place, and have a tiny spark of confidence that I might just have the opportunity to actually use my brain to make some small, but significant, difference? I've realized (from other contexts) that I've spent a lot of time hiding a lot of me, because I'm afraid that it'll scare people away. Particularly, this philosophical me. I mean, I think people know that I like philosophizing, but I hide a lot of it because I think sometimes it's just too much (which I will completely understand...sometimes it's too much for me, too). By that same token, I think I've always prided myself on my capacity to think; but I've always thought that was enough. Enter Karl Weick, who, in his papers, displays such an easy elegance in developing and expressing theory. I'm humbled by his disciplined imagination, and realize that that's what I want to have. It isn't enough that I just have all these ideas and theories about people and life and etc. and am so emotionally attached to them. The call is to "argue as if you are right and listen as if you are wrong," which leads to wonderfully passionate discussions, but without crossing the line into defending my position only because I wish to be right, or rather simply because I hate being wrong. Basically, I want to be better at being wrong. And to really have it ingrained in me that the goal is to understand--not to be right.
So what better outlet for philosophical musings--disciplined ones!--than academia? And not just for my own sake, but because I really, really believe that ideas are the beginnings of change. It is the least traceable cause--I can never know how something I have said or written has affected someone else, has altered their course, however slightly. But I can strengthen my trust that, so long as I think with an honest rigor, my ideas can mean change for good. However much others might laugh or mock the role of the academic, I will know that at least for me, I truly believe that we have our place. I don't think that all academics are convicted, or even want to be convicted in the way I am, or even that they should be (okay...that last one is kind of a lie. Right now, I think I really do wish that people would act with more confidence and conviction.), but I guess that's the whole point of this rant--I've figured out for me what I want. I feel like for the first time in a long time, this is me deciding to be true to myself. (Cheesy, I know. But you know what? I think I'm okay with that.)
But, inspired by Karl Weick, I remember why I wanted to do this in the first place, and have a tiny spark of confidence that I might just have the opportunity to actually use my brain to make some small, but significant, difference? I've realized (from other contexts) that I've spent a lot of time hiding a lot of me, because I'm afraid that it'll scare people away. Particularly, this philosophical me. I mean, I think people know that I like philosophizing, but I hide a lot of it because I think sometimes it's just too much (which I will completely understand...sometimes it's too much for me, too). By that same token, I think I've always prided myself on my capacity to think; but I've always thought that was enough. Enter Karl Weick, who, in his papers, displays such an easy elegance in developing and expressing theory. I'm humbled by his disciplined imagination, and realize that that's what I want to have. It isn't enough that I just have all these ideas and theories about people and life and etc. and am so emotionally attached to them. The call is to "argue as if you are right and listen as if you are wrong," which leads to wonderfully passionate discussions, but without crossing the line into defending my position only because I wish to be right, or rather simply because I hate being wrong. Basically, I want to be better at being wrong. And to really have it ingrained in me that the goal is to understand--not to be right.
So what better outlet for philosophical musings--disciplined ones!--than academia? And not just for my own sake, but because I really, really believe that ideas are the beginnings of change. It is the least traceable cause--I can never know how something I have said or written has affected someone else, has altered their course, however slightly. But I can strengthen my trust that, so long as I think with an honest rigor, my ideas can mean change for good. However much others might laugh or mock the role of the academic, I will know that at least for me, I truly believe that we have our place. I don't think that all academics are convicted, or even want to be convicted in the way I am, or even that they should be (okay...that last one is kind of a lie. Right now, I think I really do wish that people would act with more confidence and conviction.), but I guess that's the whole point of this rant--I've figured out for me what I want. I feel like for the first time in a long time, this is me deciding to be true to myself. (Cheesy, I know. But you know what? I think I'm okay with that.)
Friday, March 30, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
Paris holds the key to your heart
However ridiculous, that line from the song in Anastasia was running through my head while I walked through the city. I know I probably shouldn't have been roaming the streets of Paris alone for 3 hours in the middle of the night, asking strangers for directions...but I couldn't help myself! It was b. e. a. U. tiful. Must MUST go back.
Also, the Eiffel Tower sparkles! (I learned later that this happens on the hour)
And of course, here's a kitchen that I found while window shopping that I thought was pretty cool :)
Random, I know. And sorry again, that these are not awesome pictures. But you just have to go there to see it for yourself!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Spring Break
For the first time in...8 years, I had a spring break! So even though I should've stayed here and completed my 2 statistics midterms and a rough draft proposal, I decided to go to Israel. Sadly, pictures don't even come close to capturing the experience, driving and walking and touring over a thousand miles around Israel and Palestine. Trying to encapsulate the grandeur of the freshness and beauty of the Sea of Galilee from atop Mount Arbel, for example, just ends up looking like fog...
And how do you capture the feeling of walking along the Via Dolorosa? Or sitting by the Garden Tomb?
Or touching the waters at the Sea of Galilee?
Or walking through Hezekiah's tunnel and feeling the workmanship of 701 BC?
Or touching the Western Wall? Or hearing the story of Elijah condemn the gods of Baal from Mt. Carmel?
And stories of healing while sitting in Capernaum?
Or holding the Dome of the Rock in your hands? :)
So, enough of my incoherent bumblings. One day, I'll figure out what I mean, and then I'll be able to write about it so that you can actually make sense of it.
I also loved this contrast...church at the Jerusalem Center and church with the Bethlehem group. Coarse as I am, I need a lot of things stripped away before I can really feel the Spirit and remember the importance of the heart of the gospel, as I did in this tiny group of maybe 8-9 members.
Probably the thing I learned most was about Palestine and Israel. How things aren't so cut and dry, how people are still people and we fight because we're scared. I also learned that friends are great, especially because they put up with you even when you stress them out :) Thanks Breanne!!!
And how do you capture the feeling of walking along the Via Dolorosa? Or sitting by the Garden Tomb?
Or feeling the Dead Sea by your side?
Or walking along the Mediterranean Sea?
Or walking through Hezekiah's tunnel and feeling the workmanship of 701 BC?
Or touching the Western Wall? Or hearing the story of Elijah condemn the gods of Baal from Mt. Carmel?
And stories of healing while sitting in Capernaum?
Or holding the Dome of the Rock in your hands? :)
I can't really. To be honest, it definitely wasn't what I was expecting. (Don't ask me to explain what I was expecting--I probably couldn't do that either.) I never had some overwhelming "this is the place" feeling rush over me, no unforgettable witness from the Spirit that Jesus was here. But there were quiet ones, just intermittent, in random churches, at seemingly random moments, that resonated with a part of me that I think I don't know very well yet. I'm not trying to sound too cryptic or deep or weird--it's just that, I think I expected, in a place like this, to receive some great spiritual manifestations, to gain some kind of witness beyond that which I already have. But I'm realizing more and more that God just doesn't work with me like that. My mind is always miles ahead of where my heart has the capacity to reach (not that I'm even remotely good at retaining facts...I had to keep asking Breanne where we were, and what happened here or there...), but I think sometimes He gives me moments where it's the other way around, so that I can feel more than I understand...and unfortunately for you, that lack of understanding also leads to this really strange paragraph that also fails to capture my experience...
which makes me feel like this palm tree. I mean this partially in jest, but mostly seriously--which is why I had to stop and take a picture of this tree on our way back from Capernaum.
I also loved this contrast...church at the Jerusalem Center and church with the Bethlehem group. Coarse as I am, I need a lot of things stripped away before I can really feel the Spirit and remember the importance of the heart of the gospel, as I did in this tiny group of maybe 8-9 members.
Probably the thing I learned most was about Palestine and Israel. How things aren't so cut and dry, how people are still people and we fight because we're scared. I also learned that friends are great, especially because they put up with you even when you stress them out :) Thanks Breanne!!!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
So I'll remember later
(And also because the two of you who actually read this might be interested in the most eventful things of the past month+. Thanks friend(s)!) My apartment is so cold. I'm pretty sure when winter is over, I'll forget just how cold it was. So I'm writing this to remind myself. It's cold. The heating in my apartment is not awesome, so I bought a tiny little space heater, which heats up the immediate space beside me. I haven't gotten my electricity bill for the month yet, so I've tried really hard to use it sparingly, and in the meantime make use of every blanket that I own. I've been spending a lot of time on my bed...I've also almost seriously considered just sleeping at my office, because I have keys, and who would notice? And there's heat...
At least it snowed today! It's beautiful when it snows. (At least for day 1.)
Other random thoughts that I'd like to remember...
Matthew. I would really like to see him again. He's a homeless man I met outside the Wawa next to my house. In those 2 minutes, I had one of the most sinspiring moments, to meet someone so genuine, to reinspire hope in me, particularly the hope I have in the human race (per recent events like Anonymous, Occupy, etc.).
Also, a reminder of how academia has the potential for borifying things that are better in their originally clever form (so that I can not fall into this unattractive, but somehow common trap). Example: "This is much like a parent persuading a child to swallow a bitter pill by administering it with a sweetener to make it go down more easily." Hello. Pretty sure over a decade ago someone came up with a better way to say this. "A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down." Maybe that was even your inspiration. Why did you have to ruin it? You could've had a closing statement that left me singing...
How nice it feels to know that I'm doing a great job. With all the feedback from my professors, they have such confidence in me that I'm more than capable of excelling in this arena. Now I just need to find my own motivation...
And then maybe the FHE lesson over Christmas break from my dad, where it took him 30+ minutes to finally get to the point, which was to stutter out, in a broken way, that he loves me. :) (And remind me that sometimes he forgets that I'm not a boy, and that it is actually not so irrational for me to be sensitive.) Progress! Love my family :D
At least it snowed today! It's beautiful when it snows. (At least for day 1.)
Other random thoughts that I'd like to remember...
Matthew. I would really like to see him again. He's a homeless man I met outside the Wawa next to my house. In those 2 minutes, I had one of the most sinspiring moments, to meet someone so genuine, to reinspire hope in me, particularly the hope I have in the human race (per recent events like Anonymous, Occupy, etc.).
Also, a reminder of how academia has the potential for borifying things that are better in their originally clever form (so that I can not fall into this unattractive, but somehow common trap). Example: "This is much like a parent persuading a child to swallow a bitter pill by administering it with a sweetener to make it go down more easily." Hello. Pretty sure over a decade ago someone came up with a better way to say this. "A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down." Maybe that was even your inspiration. Why did you have to ruin it? You could've had a closing statement that left me singing...
How nice it feels to know that I'm doing a great job. With all the feedback from my professors, they have such confidence in me that I'm more than capable of excelling in this arena. Now I just need to find my own motivation...
And then maybe the FHE lesson over Christmas break from my dad, where it took him 30+ minutes to finally get to the point, which was to stutter out, in a broken way, that he loves me. :) (And remind me that sometimes he forgets that I'm not a boy, and that it is actually not so irrational for me to be sensitive.) Progress! Love my family :D
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