Simplifying My Life
October 7, 2010 at 4:47 am (Uncategorized)
Wow. I survived the last two weeks. After staying home all weekend and experiencing the spiritual feast of the (LDS) General Conference, I actually woke up happy! I was excited to go to school! It’s been great.
I went to Karate practice on Monday and it was intense. Lots of drills, lots of sweat, and we finished up with sparring sessions. I can usually get through all the other stuff without falling over, but the intense effort required for sparring leaves me huffing and puffing like a blowfish. For a person who only exercises about twice a week, sparring is HARD. And lucky me, I got to do four sessions in a row and the last session was with my instructor. Even before we started I knew I was in trouble. I realized I had to conserve my strength. So instead of tensing up and worrying about every little punch and kick, I made a conscious decision to stay relaxed so I could save enough energy for the last sparring session.
Surprisingly, I made it. I didn’t fall over and I wasn’t huffing and puffing like a blowfish. I even landed a sweet punch on my instructor’s face (he was ecstatic). Afterwards, I realized that was what Elder Uchtdorf was talking about in General Conference on Saturday. When you hit turbulence in your life, don’t tense up and stress out, relax. Take it slow, conserve your energy and get through it one step at a time. It makes so much sense—don’t worry, don’t freak out, and you’ll make it through. I like that a lot better than trying to increase my pace, to add more items to my to-do list and pile more responsibilities on top of myself.
For me it also means choosing not to worry about all the little incidents in my life. If my first class went badly—it’s okay. I’ll fix it before the next class. If I didn’t finish all the grading in one day, it’s okay, I can work on it tomorrow. As long as I am doing what I am supposed to (fulfilling my duties, taking care of my family, and serving God) I don’t need to waste energy worrying about everything. As long as I am sincerely and actively following God, it will be OKAY.
Life feels a lot better when I think about it in that way.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Every Journey Begins...
Holy cow, it’s been a long time! Time for me to repent. Here’s your next serving of philosophical goodness:
Life before death.
Strength before Weakness.
Journey before destination.
These are the words quoted in Brandon Sanderson’s new epic fantasy The Way of Kings. A monster book that is over 1,000 pages long, it holds surprising wisdom in its pages. At one point in the book, one of the main characters is studying the ancient tome named The Way of Kings, which illustrates the strict Codes of conduct required of righteous kings.
The author tells a story about when he decided to leave behind his retinue and escort and travel to a distant city by foot. Although a powerful king, he travels in the clothes of a beggar, depending on others for help and sustenance. He walks barefoot over rocks and hills, finally arriving at his destination weeks later. At first, no one recognizes him at the city gates, but when they realize his true identity, he is whisked away to be bathed, examined, and scolded for his foolish journey. The others in the king’s traveling party arrived quickly and easily, while the king’s feet were covered with calluses. Although they all arrived in the same place, the others remained unchanged by their journey. They were exactly the same as before. Just as arrogant, just as ignorant to a poor way of life. In contrast, the king saw many things on his way, developed strength and saw his people as they truly lived instead of through the veil of bowing, praise, and obedience.
The king considered his journey, and realized that the destination itself had no effect on the people who traveled there. It was the JOURNEY that made the difference. What mattered was how they went, not where they were going. It was the journey that changed the man, not the arrival.
When this story is compared with life and its journey to death, it made so much sense. Everyone is headed for the same fate—death. Every man on this earth will die, whether young, old, rich, or poor. The fate is the same for all. But it is how we live, our journey, that makes the difference. Will we live following the world and taking the easy path? Or will we struggle for what is right and stand strong for what we believe? It is the journey that counts. The journey that changes us into better men. If two people are headed to work, perhaps one man is in a hurry and curses every car who gets in his way. When he arrives at work he is irritable and does nothing but spread negativity. But maybe the other man, who left at the same time, is polite on the road, exercises patience, and decides to think of pleasant things as he waits in the heavy traffic. He arrives at work relieved but cheerful. He spreads his positive attitude and makes his workplace brighter. Same destination. Completely different results.
This story helped me realize that the day to day routines are more important than I thought. What does it matter if I die tomorrow? As long as I have been diligent in my duties, obeyed the commandments day after day after day, I have nothing to fear and nothing to regret. My journey will have made me a better person and I will be able to rejoice in my triumph. This story tells me why the little things are important.
Life before death.
Strength before Weakness.
Journey before destination.
These are the words quoted in Brandon Sanderson’s new epic fantasy The Way of Kings. A monster book that is over 1,000 pages long, it holds surprising wisdom in its pages. At one point in the book, one of the main characters is studying the ancient tome named The Way of Kings, which illustrates the strict Codes of conduct required of righteous kings.
The author tells a story about when he decided to leave behind his retinue and escort and travel to a distant city by foot. Although a powerful king, he travels in the clothes of a beggar, depending on others for help and sustenance. He walks barefoot over rocks and hills, finally arriving at his destination weeks later. At first, no one recognizes him at the city gates, but when they realize his true identity, he is whisked away to be bathed, examined, and scolded for his foolish journey. The others in the king’s traveling party arrived quickly and easily, while the king’s feet were covered with calluses. Although they all arrived in the same place, the others remained unchanged by their journey. They were exactly the same as before. Just as arrogant, just as ignorant to a poor way of life. In contrast, the king saw many things on his way, developed strength and saw his people as they truly lived instead of through the veil of bowing, praise, and obedience.
The king considered his journey, and realized that the destination itself had no effect on the people who traveled there. It was the JOURNEY that made the difference. What mattered was how they went, not where they were going. It was the journey that changed the man, not the arrival.
When this story is compared with life and its journey to death, it made so much sense. Everyone is headed for the same fate—death. Every man on this earth will die, whether young, old, rich, or poor. The fate is the same for all. But it is how we live, our journey, that makes the difference. Will we live following the world and taking the easy path? Or will we struggle for what is right and stand strong for what we believe? It is the journey that counts. The journey that changes us into better men. If two people are headed to work, perhaps one man is in a hurry and curses every car who gets in his way. When he arrives at work he is irritable and does nothing but spread negativity. But maybe the other man, who left at the same time, is polite on the road, exercises patience, and decides to think of pleasant things as he waits in the heavy traffic. He arrives at work relieved but cheerful. He spreads his positive attitude and makes his workplace brighter. Same destination. Completely different results.
This story helped me realize that the day to day routines are more important than I thought. What does it matter if I die tomorrow? As long as I have been diligent in my duties, obeyed the commandments day after day after day, I have nothing to fear and nothing to regret. My journey will have made me a better person and I will be able to rejoice in my triumph. This story tells me why the little things are important.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Week of "__LL"
This past week has been the worst week of my entire life. Bar none. (Exaggeration in this blog post is intentional.) Last weekend, I had a great time going around the State Fair with my family from 12:00 to 9:00. But little did I know, that I had managed to catch the flu and walking around for nine hours straight was NOT good for my health that day. So I missed church and skipped a day of school. But I wasn’t deathbed sick, I just didn’t have enough energy to teach. So I figured that Monday was a good day to finish writing the big walkaway test for first term. (I volunteered to do first term. Yes, I am an idiot. Any other questions?)
Well, I saw problems in the test items right away, mainly because our department had added extra items to the core and I knew we wouldn’t have enough time to teach it all. So I emailed some suggestions to the department head and he basically said, NO to everything. I felt like I’d hit a brick wall. So I spent that entire day trying to get a better understanding of the core, emailing suggestions to my department head, and talking to other teachers and experts to figure out what should really be on that stupid test. So, one full day and I wrote maybe three test questions.
So, day two of the week I don’t feel sick enough to stay home, and wonder of wonders—it’s parent teacher conference! I’m exhausted after a day of teaching on low energy levels, I’m eagerly anticipating the 45 minute break I get before the parents show up, and what do you know, a parent ambushes me in the hall and I have to get a flu shot in the office. I show up a half hour late in the cafeteria and have a steady stream of concerned, worried parents right up until 7:45. Three hours and forty-five minutes. Teaching is draining, but I think talking with parents is almost more so.
The next morning at school, I feel worse than I did the day before. In addition, that stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test is still hanging over my head like an anvil. I also figured out that morning that I have no idea what my students are doing for the rest of the week and realize that I should be hitting the persuasive writing unit and I have no idea how to organize it this year.
So, I manage to squeak by with a few impromptu lessons, and thank the stars my department head doesn’t say anything to me about the stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test. I think I actually taught some good concepts, but Friday was a gift from heaven and I finally got to go to the temple and get my spiritual buckets refilled.
Holy cow, what a week of torture. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d actually had energy and if that stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test wasn’t hovering over my tired, battered, fuzzed with flu head.
I’m so glad that week is over. I think I’ll be able to finish the walkaway test next week, I should have better energy, and hopefully I’ll have some time to plan out my persuasive writing unit before the district-wide writing test hits. My grandma said that you can survive anything for a week. I just proved her right. And without the spiritual strength of the temple, I’d probably be a shriveled up piece of jerky by now.
Well, I saw problems in the test items right away, mainly because our department had added extra items to the core and I knew we wouldn’t have enough time to teach it all. So I emailed some suggestions to the department head and he basically said, NO to everything. I felt like I’d hit a brick wall. So I spent that entire day trying to get a better understanding of the core, emailing suggestions to my department head, and talking to other teachers and experts to figure out what should really be on that stupid test. So, one full day and I wrote maybe three test questions.
So, day two of the week I don’t feel sick enough to stay home, and wonder of wonders—it’s parent teacher conference! I’m exhausted after a day of teaching on low energy levels, I’m eagerly anticipating the 45 minute break I get before the parents show up, and what do you know, a parent ambushes me in the hall and I have to get a flu shot in the office. I show up a half hour late in the cafeteria and have a steady stream of concerned, worried parents right up until 7:45. Three hours and forty-five minutes. Teaching is draining, but I think talking with parents is almost more so.
The next morning at school, I feel worse than I did the day before. In addition, that stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test is still hanging over my head like an anvil. I also figured out that morning that I have no idea what my students are doing for the rest of the week and realize that I should be hitting the persuasive writing unit and I have no idea how to organize it this year.
So, I manage to squeak by with a few impromptu lessons, and thank the stars my department head doesn’t say anything to me about the stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test. I think I actually taught some good concepts, but Friday was a gift from heaven and I finally got to go to the temple and get my spiritual buckets refilled.
Holy cow, what a week of torture. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d actually had energy and if that stupid, frustrating, demon-spawned walkaway test wasn’t hovering over my tired, battered, fuzzed with flu head.
I’m so glad that week is over. I think I’ll be able to finish the walkaway test next week, I should have better energy, and hopefully I’ll have some time to plan out my persuasive writing unit before the district-wide writing test hits. My grandma said that you can survive anything for a week. I just proved her right. And without the spiritual strength of the temple, I’d probably be a shriveled up piece of jerky by now.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Fancy Schmancy Quotes About Time
Personally, I love quotes. Quotes hold so much meaning in so few words. Last year I was searching for a cool quote to put on a giant clock. I wasn't too excited about the "love at home" and "Families are Forever" sayings (maybe because I'm single). I wanted something different and something that meant more to me. I came up with these two:
Time discovers truth.
-Seneca
Life, if lived well, is long enough.
-Seneca
Seneca, a Roman philosopher, had quotes that really touched me and contained mountains of truth in his sayings. If you live your life well, it doesn't matter how long or short it is. In the process of time, all truths will be revealed. We just have to be patient.
I found a lot more quotes about time and life that I liked on the internet. Here's the list of quotes that didn't make the cut:
We say we waste time, but that is impossible. We waste ourselves.”
-Alice Bloch
You may delay, but time will not.
-Benjamin Franklin
| To achieve great things, two things are needed; a plan, and not quite enough time.” |
| Leonard Bernstein quotes (American Conductor, Composer and Pianist. 1918-1990 |
Jef Raskin, interviewed in Doctor Dobb's Journal
Bill Watterson (1958 - ), cartoonist, "Calvin and Hobbes"
|
|
The time is always right to do what is right.”
--Martin Luther King Jr.
Time heals what reason cannot.
--Seneca
“The heart is great which shows moderation in the midst of prosperity.”
--Seneca
“He is most powerful who has power over himself”
--Seneca
Many things have fallen only to rise higher.
Seneca
No one can wear a mask for very long.
Seneca
Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed
Will Rogers (1879 - 1935), New York TImes, Apr. 29, 1930
The human race is faced with a cruel choice: work or daytime television.
There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes. 
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Arguing with the World
Lately, I’ve been thinking that it would be really cool to go to film school. I love movies, and would love to create them. But I worry that when in a film class, I will be subjected to material that I would never watch by choice. Material that is far below my standards and that will destroy my efforts to stay clean. I’ve wondered how I would explain my position to my professors, what words I would use to beg them to let me watch something else. This is an imagined conversation with a professor who can’t understand why I don’t want to watch a movie with sex scenes or that has demeaning sexual innuendo:
Sir, in my religion we are taught that physical intimacy between husband and wife is incredibly sacred. It is God’s way of gifting us with his own power of creation. Think of it! We believe that God created the heavens and the earth and he has given us that same power in our children. The power to give life, and to raise his sons and daughters as righteous members of his kingdom.
Because creation is such a powerful gift, God has commanded that we use it responsibly and with great care. In my religion, we are taught that physical intimacy must only happen between two people bonded as husband and wife. We are to practice complete abstinence before marriage, and complete fidelity afterwards.
If the power to give life is misused, it will have terrible consequences and is a mockery of God’s gift.
Sir, considering all these things I have been taught, how can I go and watch a sitcom where sex is treated like a cheap rag, something to be thrown around to satisfy desires, simply a way to get what you want. It astonishes me how sex is now as cheap as a penny, almost worthless. How can I treat physical intimacy as a sacred thing when the whole world screams at me to use it for personal gain and self indulgence?
No. I will not stand for this. I am a child of God, with a divine destiny and a divine heritage. God has seen fit to give me the gift of life and the gift of a physical body. I am precious in his sight, and I will treat myself as such. My body is not something to be thrown around to satisfy vile pleasures. I am more than that, a precious daughter who has a right to the full blessings of heaven if I but follow God’s commandments. I respect his will and his love by promising to use his gifts correctly.
So you tell me—how can I possibly watch something so demeaning to my divine identity? Something that tells me I am worth no more than my carnal pleasures, that I am nothing more than an animal. How can I watch Television shows that constantly tell me that bodies are cheap, that my life is nothing more than a quest to satisfy my sensual desires?
I say NO. I am more than that. I am of noble birth, and I refuse to fill my head with such despicable lies. I promise to watch worthy, uplifting entertainment that reminds me who I am, that encourages me to be good, that tells me I am worth something.
No sir, I will not watch such things.
Sir, in my religion we are taught that physical intimacy between husband and wife is incredibly sacred. It is God’s way of gifting us with his own power of creation. Think of it! We believe that God created the heavens and the earth and he has given us that same power in our children. The power to give life, and to raise his sons and daughters as righteous members of his kingdom.
Because creation is such a powerful gift, God has commanded that we use it responsibly and with great care. In my religion, we are taught that physical intimacy must only happen between two people bonded as husband and wife. We are to practice complete abstinence before marriage, and complete fidelity afterwards.
If the power to give life is misused, it will have terrible consequences and is a mockery of God’s gift.
Sir, considering all these things I have been taught, how can I go and watch a sitcom where sex is treated like a cheap rag, something to be thrown around to satisfy desires, simply a way to get what you want. It astonishes me how sex is now as cheap as a penny, almost worthless. How can I treat physical intimacy as a sacred thing when the whole world screams at me to use it for personal gain and self indulgence?
No. I will not stand for this. I am a child of God, with a divine destiny and a divine heritage. God has seen fit to give me the gift of life and the gift of a physical body. I am precious in his sight, and I will treat myself as such. My body is not something to be thrown around to satisfy vile pleasures. I am more than that, a precious daughter who has a right to the full blessings of heaven if I but follow God’s commandments. I respect his will and his love by promising to use his gifts correctly.
So you tell me—how can I possibly watch something so demeaning to my divine identity? Something that tells me I am worth no more than my carnal pleasures, that I am nothing more than an animal. How can I watch Television shows that constantly tell me that bodies are cheap, that my life is nothing more than a quest to satisfy my sensual desires?
I say NO. I am more than that. I am of noble birth, and I refuse to fill my head with such despicable lies. I promise to watch worthy, uplifting entertainment that reminds me who I am, that encourages me to be good, that tells me I am worth something.
No sir, I will not watch such things.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Testimonies (Religious Topic)
Gosh, this is embarrassing.
Today was Testimony Meeting at my church. This happens the first Sunday of every month. Instead of having speakers during Sacrament Meeting, the members are invited to the podium to give their testimonies of the gospel. To say what they know is right in front of the congregation. Ever since I was a kid, a comment from one of my friends persuaded me that I needed to bear my testimony every month. That compulsion has stayed with me for years. Every Testimony Meeting comes with the inevitable conflict: “I should bear my testimony!” “No, you bore it last month. Give other people a chance.” “But, I think maybe that God wants me to bear it today.” “You don’t have anything to say. No stories, no special experiences. Give someone else the chance.” “But, I want to.” “Sit down, you bore it last month, you don’t have to. You’ve fulfilled your requirement.”
And so I sit there, miserable with inner conflict as people come and go from the podium. The same thing happened today, and I realized that I felt embarrassed and ashamed because I was worried about what other people would think—‘Oh, there she is again. Why does she get up so often? Is there something wrong with her?’
I thought, well, my friends Commodore and Maggie bear their testimonies every month and they are some of the most fantastic people that I know. It must be okay for me to be like them, since I admire them so much. I thought of other people in my church who bore their testimonies often, and realized that they were all people that I respected and admired. How could I be ashamed to be like people that I respected so much?
So, I got up and bore my testimony of the power of bearing testimonies. I admitted my embarrassment about bearing my testimony so often, and then mentioned that the people who did do it every month were people that I admired. Why should I be ashamed? I testified that there is a great power in bearing testimony. To say what you believe out loud, and to say it in front of other people takes great courage. My friend Paul bears testimony every month even though it scares him to death. How brave he is! He does it anyway. The courage that lets him proclaim his belief also proves his dedication to God. He follows God even when it is uncomfortable.
What a blessing it is, to have opportunities to bear our testimonies in church. An opportunity to show God our dedication with courage and confidence. A chance to just say it out loud. Saying it out loud makes it real, makes it true. Why should I ever be ashamed to make my testimony stronger? Druing Relief Society at the end of church, we were given another opportunity to share testimonies, and I did it again! I felt embarrassed again, but I had to say what was in my heart, and I was glad. Sharing my testimony was a happy thing, and I did it because I was excited about the gospel. Why should I ever be ashamed of loving the gospel? Why should I let fear of man stop me from celebrating and praising my God?
Today was Testimony Meeting at my church. This happens the first Sunday of every month. Instead of having speakers during Sacrament Meeting, the members are invited to the podium to give their testimonies of the gospel. To say what they know is right in front of the congregation. Ever since I was a kid, a comment from one of my friends persuaded me that I needed to bear my testimony every month. That compulsion has stayed with me for years. Every Testimony Meeting comes with the inevitable conflict: “I should bear my testimony!” “No, you bore it last month. Give other people a chance.” “But, I think maybe that God wants me to bear it today.” “You don’t have anything to say. No stories, no special experiences. Give someone else the chance.” “But, I want to.” “Sit down, you bore it last month, you don’t have to. You’ve fulfilled your requirement.”
And so I sit there, miserable with inner conflict as people come and go from the podium. The same thing happened today, and I realized that I felt embarrassed and ashamed because I was worried about what other people would think—‘Oh, there she is again. Why does she get up so often? Is there something wrong with her?’
I thought, well, my friends Commodore and Maggie bear their testimonies every month and they are some of the most fantastic people that I know. It must be okay for me to be like them, since I admire them so much. I thought of other people in my church who bore their testimonies often, and realized that they were all people that I respected and admired. How could I be ashamed to be like people that I respected so much?
So, I got up and bore my testimony of the power of bearing testimonies. I admitted my embarrassment about bearing my testimony so often, and then mentioned that the people who did do it every month were people that I admired. Why should I be ashamed? I testified that there is a great power in bearing testimony. To say what you believe out loud, and to say it in front of other people takes great courage. My friend Paul bears testimony every month even though it scares him to death. How brave he is! He does it anyway. The courage that lets him proclaim his belief also proves his dedication to God. He follows God even when it is uncomfortable.
What a blessing it is, to have opportunities to bear our testimonies in church. An opportunity to show God our dedication with courage and confidence. A chance to just say it out loud. Saying it out loud makes it real, makes it true. Why should I ever be ashamed to make my testimony stronger? Druing Relief Society at the end of church, we were given another opportunity to share testimonies, and I did it again! I felt embarrassed again, but I had to say what was in my heart, and I was glad. Sharing my testimony was a happy thing, and I did it because I was excited about the gospel. Why should I ever be ashamed of loving the gospel? Why should I let fear of man stop me from celebrating and praising my God?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
The Value of Boredom
Another quote from Wise Child by Monica Furlong, pg 57
When I had finished my astronomy, I turned unwillingly to the herb beds.
"I thought if you were educated you didn't have to do boring things," I had said to Juniper the day before.
"There are people who think like that," Juniper had said. "Such a pity. Boredom is so valuable." I could not imagine what she meant.
Now that I think about it, if I didn't get so bored during the summer, I wouldn't be so happy to go back to school. If I never got bored, I'd never want to work. What would be the point?
When I had finished my astronomy, I turned unwillingly to the herb beds.
"I thought if you were educated you didn't have to do boring things," I had said to Juniper the day before.
"There are people who think like that," Juniper had said. "Such a pity. Boredom is so valuable." I could not imagine what she meant.
Now that I think about it, if I didn't get so bored during the summer, I wouldn't be so happy to go back to school. If I never got bored, I'd never want to work. What would be the point?
Icky, Horrible, Hateful Work
Quote from the book Wise Child by Monica Furlong pg 36-37
After breakfast Juniper began to wash up the dishes, and she asked me to sweep the floor. I fetched the broomstick to humor her, but I thought I'd better have the housework problem out with her right away.
"I don't like cleaning or dusting or cooking or doing dishes, or any of those things," I explained to her. "And I don't usually do it. I find it boring, you see."
"Everyone has to do those things," she said.
"Rich people don't," I pointed out.
Juniper laughed, as she often did at things I said in those early days, but at once became quite serious.
"They miss a lot of fun," she said. "But quite apart from that--keeping yourself clean, preparing the food you are going to eat, clearing it away afterward--that's what life's about, Wise Child. When people forget that, or lose touch with it, then they lose touch with other important things as well."
"Men don't do those things."
"Exactly. Also, as you clean the house up, it gives you time to tidy yourself up inside--you'll see."
After breakfast Juniper began to wash up the dishes, and she asked me to sweep the floor. I fetched the broomstick to humor her, but I thought I'd better have the housework problem out with her right away.
"I don't like cleaning or dusting or cooking or doing dishes, or any of those things," I explained to her. "And I don't usually do it. I find it boring, you see."
"Everyone has to do those things," she said.
"Rich people don't," I pointed out.
Juniper laughed, as she often did at things I said in those early days, but at once became quite serious.
"They miss a lot of fun," she said. "But quite apart from that--keeping yourself clean, preparing the food you are going to eat, clearing it away afterward--that's what life's about, Wise Child. When people forget that, or lose touch with it, then they lose touch with other important things as well."
"Men don't do those things."
"Exactly. Also, as you clean the house up, it gives you time to tidy yourself up inside--you'll see."
Sunday, April 4, 2010
How Bad Can I Be?
I drive a lot. It takes me twenty minutes to get to school every day (forty minute round trip) and once a week I drive to the city, which takes me fifty minutes. Since I’m not big on listening to the radio and I don’t have a CD player in my car, I end up thinking. A lot.
After the work day is over, I feel exhausted and drained so I watch some video on the internet to “renew” my strength before I start on my paperwork. But so often, a quick fifteen minutes of TV turns into an hour, two hours, even three hours.
Every time I “mess up,” I leave school hating myself. But the funny thing is that as I drive home, all I’m doing is trying to figure out exactly how badly I messed up. Yes, it was a little bit wrong, but at least I only watched TV for an hour. Or, Yeah, I needed a break, I was brain fried and without TV I wouldn’t have been able to do any work at all—fiddlesticks!! It seems that every time I feel guilty I waste all my time trying to figure out exactly how much scolding I deserve. But all I’m really doing is trying to justify my actions, make them seem ok when they aren’t. It doesn’t matter if I watched TV for a half hour or three hours. It’s still wrong. The whole attitude is wrong. Jon Bytheway named it, “How bad can I be?” Or, “How good am I ‘sposed to be?” Both attitudes are miles away from the correct attitude—“I will do what is right.” What am I doing trying to figure out ‘Oh, I was a little bit bad’ or ‘I only did it for a short time, it’s okay. I’m still a good person.’ It’s all an avoidance technique because I’m still not doing what I know is right.
Why am I wasting time and energy justifying actions that I know are wrong? I just need to decide to do the right thing and spend my time and energy doing things that will build me up instead of tear me down. I hate guilt. Doing the right thing is so much easier and feels so much better.
After the work day is over, I feel exhausted and drained so I watch some video on the internet to “renew” my strength before I start on my paperwork. But so often, a quick fifteen minutes of TV turns into an hour, two hours, even three hours.
Every time I “mess up,” I leave school hating myself. But the funny thing is that as I drive home, all I’m doing is trying to figure out exactly how badly I messed up. Yes, it was a little bit wrong, but at least I only watched TV for an hour. Or, Yeah, I needed a break, I was brain fried and without TV I wouldn’t have been able to do any work at all—fiddlesticks!! It seems that every time I feel guilty I waste all my time trying to figure out exactly how much scolding I deserve. But all I’m really doing is trying to justify my actions, make them seem ok when they aren’t. It doesn’t matter if I watched TV for a half hour or three hours. It’s still wrong. The whole attitude is wrong. Jon Bytheway named it, “How bad can I be?” Or, “How good am I ‘sposed to be?” Both attitudes are miles away from the correct attitude—“I will do what is right.” What am I doing trying to figure out ‘Oh, I was a little bit bad’ or ‘I only did it for a short time, it’s okay. I’m still a good person.’ It’s all an avoidance technique because I’m still not doing what I know is right.
Why am I wasting time and energy justifying actions that I know are wrong? I just need to decide to do the right thing and spend my time and energy doing things that will build me up instead of tear me down. I hate guilt. Doing the right thing is so much easier and feels so much better.
Everybody's a Nerd
I met a guy last week and we were talking about writing and I was talking about how I write for fun and he said, “So, you’re basically a nerdy girl.” And I replied, “Yes. I love being a nerd! It’s so much fun!” Writing and reading are my passions, so I love doing anything associated with them—including essay writing and analyzing the plot structures of Saturday morning cartoons. In fact, I love analyzing the themes in Star Trek episodes and figuring out why the villain was lame in the new Percy Jackson film. I talk about depth, character, and subplots. I talk about writing business letters to my favorite cereal company. Am I a nerd? Most definitely YES! And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
As I thought about that phrase, ‘so you’re a nerdy girl?’ some more, I told my sister, “Everybody’s a nerd!” Some people are nerds about hunting or fishing. Some people are nerds about football and college rivalries. Some people are nerds about motocross racing. How do you spot a nerd? You mention a certain topic and suddenly they are talking your ear off about that subject and asking your opinion on the competition last week and who you think will win the championship next month. They start speaking a different language about full backs and hole shots and draw weights on compound bows. Nerds love that nerdy language.
Unfortunately, being a “nerd” in our society is often the same thing as being a “loser.” They are seen as socially awkward, totally lacking in common sense and too obsessed with their passion to notice the world around them (such as, current fashion trends?). But what about those men who watch football all the time? Or people who spend every weekend on four wheelers? They aren’t seen as “losers,” but they are just as committed to their passions as the computer geeks. For some reason, if you are a nerd about sports or outdoorsman stuff, you’re cool. But if you’re a nerd about English, science, or anything academic and “boring,” the world sees you as a socially handicapped “loser.” Which is kind of funny since the computer “losers” are having just as much fun as the four wheelers, and are probably making more money. Bill Gates is a case in point.
Be careful in how you judge a nerd. Just because a person likes to read doesn’t mean they don't have any fashion sense. Just because someone plays basketball doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy poetry, too.
But seriously, being a nerd is fantastic fun! Find your passion, stick to it, and have a blast!!
As I thought about that phrase, ‘so you’re a nerdy girl?’ some more, I told my sister, “Everybody’s a nerd!” Some people are nerds about hunting or fishing. Some people are nerds about football and college rivalries. Some people are nerds about motocross racing. How do you spot a nerd? You mention a certain topic and suddenly they are talking your ear off about that subject and asking your opinion on the competition last week and who you think will win the championship next month. They start speaking a different language about full backs and hole shots and draw weights on compound bows. Nerds love that nerdy language.
Unfortunately, being a “nerd” in our society is often the same thing as being a “loser.” They are seen as socially awkward, totally lacking in common sense and too obsessed with their passion to notice the world around them (such as, current fashion trends?). But what about those men who watch football all the time? Or people who spend every weekend on four wheelers? They aren’t seen as “losers,” but they are just as committed to their passions as the computer geeks. For some reason, if you are a nerd about sports or outdoorsman stuff, you’re cool. But if you’re a nerd about English, science, or anything academic and “boring,” the world sees you as a socially handicapped “loser.” Which is kind of funny since the computer “losers” are having just as much fun as the four wheelers, and are probably making more money. Bill Gates is a case in point.
Be careful in how you judge a nerd. Just because a person likes to read doesn’t mean they don't have any fashion sense. Just because someone plays basketball doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy poetry, too.
But seriously, being a nerd is fantastic fun! Find your passion, stick to it, and have a blast!!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Glory of Silence
I have a poster on my wall that says, "The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence." I love silence. To stand alone, on top of a hill (or a parking lot) and do. . .nothing. To do nothing but stare off into the immensity of space and let its wonder and magnificence wash over me like a sweet wave is. . . marvelous. It is only when I am separated from the world by a wall of silence that I can truly hear my soul. But the silence doesn't feel like a wall, it feels like freedom--freedom from the noise of the world, freedom from the judgments and expectations of others, freedom from my own self criticism.
In those moments of silence the world fades away and I am left with. . .myself. Just me. And in that moment, as I stare at the beauty of the stars and merge with the heart of the wind, I am enough. The world makes me forget, but the silence makes me remember.
I love silence.
In those moments of silence the world fades away and I am left with. . .myself. Just me. And in that moment, as I stare at the beauty of the stars and merge with the heart of the wind, I am enough. The world makes me forget, but the silence makes me remember.
I love silence.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Search For Happiness
I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately, and where it comes from. Someone told me that all joy comes from knowing God. I recoiled at that statement, thinking, “No, happiness comes from ME.” I believe that the source of all good things is God, including joy. But joy is not something handed to us on a silver platter simply because we admit that God exists. My joy depends on me—my thoughts, my actions, and my attitude.
In the gospel, we are told that if we do certain things, we will have joy. Last month, I knew I’d been keeping all the commandments, but I was also miserable. I talked to a lot of people, trying to figure out what to do. When I talked with my neighbor, he asked me to list all the things I had to do every week. It was a lot, but he pointed out to me, “You never once mentioned your family responsibilities.” I was shocked and humbled. This started a period of serious reflection on my priorities in life. I realized that I was basing my self worth on how many tasks I was accomplishing every day—school, writing, grading papers, cleaning house, exercising…etc. As a result, I saw myself as flawed because I could never finish everything. Or at least, no matter how many tasks I piled on myself, I still wasn’t happy. When my neighbor said that comment about family, I remembered the thought I’d had the week before: “No matter how many tasks I accomplish, they’re all worthless if I’m not happy.” It changed to, “No matter what I accomplish in this life, it’s all worthless if I’m neglecting my family.”
I decided from then on that the thing I wanted most in the world was to be happy. To be happy for the right reasons. The ability to be happy no matter how dark the storm clouds overhead and no matter how many responsibilities piled on top of me.
As I reflected and studied, I learned that one of the key components to happiness was to have my priorities in the right order. Family is very important to me, but I wasn’t acting like it. After that talk with my neighbor, I decided to make sure that I called my family at least once a week. I also decided to not worry so much about how many tasks I was doing every day—to base my sense of worth on something else.
Those two changes made a HUGE difference. My life was still hectic, but I wasn’t stressed. I didn’t worry all the time, I didn’t give myself expectations that I couldn’t fulfill, and the pressure lifted. I was free from my misery.
For more information on happiness and priorities, please refer to Stephen Covey’s book Seven Habits of Highly Successful People.
In the gospel, we are told that if we do certain things, we will have joy. Last month, I knew I’d been keeping all the commandments, but I was also miserable. I talked to a lot of people, trying to figure out what to do. When I talked with my neighbor, he asked me to list all the things I had to do every week. It was a lot, but he pointed out to me, “You never once mentioned your family responsibilities.” I was shocked and humbled. This started a period of serious reflection on my priorities in life. I realized that I was basing my self worth on how many tasks I was accomplishing every day—school, writing, grading papers, cleaning house, exercising…etc. As a result, I saw myself as flawed because I could never finish everything. Or at least, no matter how many tasks I piled on myself, I still wasn’t happy. When my neighbor said that comment about family, I remembered the thought I’d had the week before: “No matter how many tasks I accomplish, they’re all worthless if I’m not happy.” It changed to, “No matter what I accomplish in this life, it’s all worthless if I’m neglecting my family.”
I decided from then on that the thing I wanted most in the world was to be happy. To be happy for the right reasons. The ability to be happy no matter how dark the storm clouds overhead and no matter how many responsibilities piled on top of me.
As I reflected and studied, I learned that one of the key components to happiness was to have my priorities in the right order. Family is very important to me, but I wasn’t acting like it. After that talk with my neighbor, I decided to make sure that I called my family at least once a week. I also decided to not worry so much about how many tasks I was doing every day—to base my sense of worth on something else.
Those two changes made a HUGE difference. My life was still hectic, but I wasn’t stressed. I didn’t worry all the time, I didn’t give myself expectations that I couldn’t fulfill, and the pressure lifted. I was free from my misery.
For more information on happiness and priorities, please refer to Stephen Covey’s book Seven Habits of Highly Successful People.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Everyone Starts at Zero
Yesterday I went to SLC with a friend and ended up watching the LDS Church’s movie called “Joseph Smith the Prophet of the Restoration.” Joseph Smith is one of their most famous prophets and is credited with starting the Church and translating The Book of Mormon in the 1800’s. The movie not only showed his efforts to establish the LDS church, but it also showed his childhood and teenage years. I wondered why they put so much emphasis on his childhood. Why was that important? As I watched, I realized that even Jesus Christ, the savior of mankind, entered this world as a baby and had to learn about the world as he grew, just like everybody else.
It seemed so poignant to me, to know that all famous people in history, from Einstein to Genghis Khan, from Alexander the Great to Abraham Lincoln, had to experience childhood before they became what they were. All had to be the little kid who wondered when he’d be old enough to reach the high shelves and old enough to do adult activities and old enough to own a horse and go where they wanted to go, just like me. Perhaps there is a universal law, that in order for someone to become anything, they must experience life as a child first. All must face growing up, the turbulent times of uncertainty as a teenager, and all must figure out what the world is and who they are before they can become a man and change the world. They have to learn about the world on their own, and decide their place in it. Everyone starts at “zero,” just like me.
It seemed so poignant to me, to know that all famous people in history, from Einstein to Genghis Khan, from Alexander the Great to Abraham Lincoln, had to experience childhood before they became what they were. All had to be the little kid who wondered when he’d be old enough to reach the high shelves and old enough to do adult activities and old enough to own a horse and go where they wanted to go, just like me. Perhaps there is a universal law, that in order for someone to become anything, they must experience life as a child first. All must face growing up, the turbulent times of uncertainty as a teenager, and all must figure out what the world is and who they are before they can become a man and change the world. They have to learn about the world on their own, and decide their place in it. Everyone starts at “zero,” just like me.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Miracle of Work
I’ve been caught up a bit in the monotony of my job. I work extremely hard, but I don’t always enjoy it. Not to mention when work is overwhelming. While thinking about happiness, stress, and my job, I realized that I wasn’t working for money. Or at least, money wasn’t what I received as payment. I thought, “I’m not earning money, I’m earning food for my table. I’m earning rent. The gas in my car, Mom’s utility bill, my internet service, all the DVDs on my shelf, the books I buy every month. My hard, monotonous work earns Jack’s (pet bird) food, my toilet paper and toothpaste, my tithing, my clothing, my electricity and heat, my nice coat, Christmas presents for my family, my wonderful netbook and my jumpdrives, my music, my pens, my computer speakers. My job earns my livelihood. It means that I can visit my family on the weekends because I can pay for the gas. It means that I can take karate lessons and advance in rank. It means that I can go to activities and bring potluck. It means that I can read the Ensign and the Writer’s Digest.
Work has done so much for me. Yes, it can be frustrating and boring and hard, but that’s okay because all the effort I put into my work is payment for all the other things in my life. By the sweat of my brow, I’m earning a place to live, a savings account (graduate school), friends and parties and karate lessons and books and food and shelter and clothing and my emergency kit and my technology and my cell phone service which enables me to communicate with everyone I know.
My job is so much more than I ever thought it was. It pays for everything! It pays for my lifestyle and enables me to do thousands of things in my life. Wow. I forget that all that stress, frustration, and boredom actually means something. It actually earns something valuable. David O. Mckay said that work is a blessing. I finally understand what he means.
Work has done so much for me. Yes, it can be frustrating and boring and hard, but that’s okay because all the effort I put into my work is payment for all the other things in my life. By the sweat of my brow, I’m earning a place to live, a savings account (graduate school), friends and parties and karate lessons and books and food and shelter and clothing and my emergency kit and my technology and my cell phone service which enables me to communicate with everyone I know.
My job is so much more than I ever thought it was. It pays for everything! It pays for my lifestyle and enables me to do thousands of things in my life. Wow. I forget that all that stress, frustration, and boredom actually means something. It actually earns something valuable. David O. Mckay said that work is a blessing. I finally understand what he means.
My first blog!
Welcome to my first blog! So here goes--I just had a wonderful time at a sci-fi/fantasy writer's symposium at BYU. In fact, because of that symposium, this blog exists. The panel on blogging convinced me that I didn't have to wait until I had "time" before I started writing my own blog. Why do people think that more "time" will fix their problems? You make time for what is important to you. Thus, my decision to make time for writing a blog. Here I'll be talking about writing, teaching school, and musing about life in general. I love to get philosophical about the little things in life (blame my college class on personal essays). Enjoy!
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