Cause and Effect of My Jerkiness

The other day, a chat:

Friend: hi

me: hi

Friend: how’s it go?

me: good it goes

Friend: good that is

🙂

me: how are you?

Friend: school is stressing me out

me: yeah

midterms, yay!

Friend: blah

me: you’ll do fine

Friend: I appreciate your vote of confidence, but I seriously doubt it

me: why?

Friend: I haven’t been putting in the time

me: why?

Friend: I get distracted and I don’t want to

me: so then you can’t really complain when deadlines come

i mean you do

you always do

but you know what you’re doing when you procrastinate

it’s not like science homework

i mean i should let you vent instead of giving you my opinion

so you should keep venting

Friend: no, you are right

I should quit [complaining] and just do it 🙂

me: working on a paper along the way is a lot less stressful, just fyi 🙂

you can try it next time

Friend: maybe I will 🙂

Then the next day, this blog post.

I mean, the friend doesn’t mention names, but I have a feeling her words are about me. And what I said did come out of nowhere, so I can see why it felt like an attack. I could try to come up with a reason I behaved this way. For instance, languages. I could have just told my friend I was looking at a bunch of foreign languages so that my friend could understand that I was trying to concentrate, but instead I lashed out with what she kindly called truth bombs.

She was way too kind for what I deserve. I kicked a soccer ball in her face. I remember one time in fifth grade our class was playing soccer during P.E. and a boy kicked a soccer ball in my face. It simultaneously shocked and hurt me, and I was angry and embarrassed. The game stopped and the teacher handed me the ball and told me I could throw the ball at the boy. Which I didn’t do. Because that would have been dumb. That teacher was a dork.

Just saying, I know how those hexagons and pentagons feel at close range and high impact.

I’m sorry.

On Facebook This Morning

I posted an article whose headline was: “Mormon stake president gets political at church, laments election results.”  Assumptions emerged and a few comments followed. Six.

  1. Oh dear. Stake president FAIL.
  2. I read some of his talk, but then just couldn’t read any more. So awful.
  3. The lines quoted in the second paragraph are the only ones from the talk that I found inappropriate. I don’t agree with his pessimistic viewpoint, but I think that headline is incredibly misleading.
  4. Abortion and using tax dollars to do so, same sex marriage, take God out of the Goverment, leagalization of pot, forces alighning to stop school prayer, but allowing the handing out of birth control etc…Yeah…that sounds like something I want to fight for. Jesus would stand right beside me right?! … Matthew 24:24 Have you read his entire talk…He is quoting past prophets…. and you are offended?!
  5. The Church has made a statement that it is politically neutral, so going against that by sharing your political viewpoints over the pulpit in church is always inappropriate, whether or not you think their political party is right or wrong. There’s nothing wrong with quoting prophets, unless you’re using them toward your own personal agenda. It’s unfortunate is all, because even though they shouldn’t take it personally, some of the church members will probably be offended and turn away 😦
  6. noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooope

The article doesn’t necessarily represent me or demonstrate that my testimony is crumbling. I hadn’t read the article when I posted it. I put it on my timeline to remind myself to read it later.

This afternoon, I read the article and the talk that the author referenced. Then I reread the comments from the Facebook thread. Then I reconsidered my initial responses to the comments.

1.

  • Before: This sounds like a heavily political talk.
  • After: The stake president could have left a few statements out and still have given a powerful talk.

2.

  • Before: This sounds like the stake president is ignoring any sort of neutrality in his talk.
  • After: The stake president could have left a few statements out and still have given a powerful talk.

3.

  • Before: I’ll have to read the second paragraph of the article and read through the talk.
  • After: These are the statements that the stake president could have left out. The headline made the talk sound way more politically charged than it felt to me.

4.

  • Before: Knowing my heart, Jesus would have talked to me in complete sentences and with a lot less interrobang. He probably also would have given me a hug. Basically, I find your typos offensive. Also, thanks for your condemnation.
  • After: The world does seem to be taking a turn for the worse, the divide between good and evil is definitely more distinct, and I understand the stake president’s frustration. He could have left out a few statements and still have given a powerful talk.

5.

  • Before: The Church has taken a politically neutral stance, and I can’t stop thinking of how I was accused of being offended in the last comment.
  • After: It’s a shame that people get offended either way because of a talk. In a leadership position you really have to make matters more about the Spirit and less about politics. In a leadership position, you often find it hard to separate your politics from church. I’ve definitely heard much worse from the pulpit.

6.

  • Before: I can tell you have something articulate and inspired to say.
  • After: Without even saying anything else, I know what you mean.

Two Sundays ago a guy gave a talk in Church and he said he’s majoring in communications and political science so that one day he can have his own conservative talk show like Brother Glenn Beck.

He went on to tell stories about Bible bashing on his mission. He brought up the scripture about casting your pearls before swine (Matthew 7:6). He kept saying, “Why NOT cast your pearls? You’ll never run out of pearls.”

He made it quite clear that he referred to those against whom he Bible-bashed as swine. And then he pretty blatantly compared pearls to ammunition. You’ll never run out of pearls. You’ll never run out of ammunition. You can just keep shooting at the swine.

His talk was about studying your scriptures with faith.

The aforementioned Matthew 24:24 is about being deceived by false Christs and false prophets. Much of the chapter uses apocalyptic language to describe the world before the Second Coming. I would guess that my friend, commenter #4, attributes the decline of morality in the world to these falsities.

I was bothered by the politics in both talks, not so much because I disagreed with them but because I knew there would be people in each congregation (and now among those who have read the article) who would cling to those few statements and use them as an excuse never to come back to church.

It’s definitely easier to say to hold strong in a church regardless of its imperfect members. But part of the reason the Church has a stance on political neutrality is to protect its imperfect members from themselves, to help us to use our hearts, to look past politics and into souls. Our souls are bigger and worth way more than the limits this fallen world puts on them.

There’s definitely a lot more to say. I’m tired.

Books in January

This past week I read a book by Paul Harding, Tinkers. January has started me off with some really good literature, and while I love mindless, stress-free reading, I love the way some books sharpen my mind. Whereas some books make me forget about the world, other books bring me back to reality. The reality of fiction. Tinkers is real.

The novel is a quiet, humble little book, only 191 pages. A few quotes:

— What is it like to be full of lightning? What is it like to be split open from the inside by lightning?

— And Howard, by accident of birth, tasted the raw stuff of the cosmos.

— Of course, Sabbatis is ancient only to me. My father is ancient, too, because both were men who passed from my life when I was young. My memories of them are atmospheres.

I’ve had an account on Goodreads since 2007 but just started using it within the past 8 months. It helps me keep track of the books I read and want to read. I enjoy reading friends’ reviews and looking at ratings and marveling at people’s range of preferences. Sometimes a book moves me enough to write more than 5 words about it. Here’s what I wrote for Tinkers:

“Reading Tinkers is like a dream where I eavesdrop on a conversation between W.S. Merwin, Marilynne Robinson, and Annie Dillard. And then sometimes they’re talking directly to me in whispers and screams. By mention of those authors in association with Paul Harding’s debut, you should then know that you must read Tinkers slowly, and with great care. Inhale deeply the language and float away on nuance. Straddle both the ethereal and the conscious, so that you can let the tears roll and then acknowledge them.”

Other books I read in January:

Chronic City, Jonathan Lethem: Eccentric characters and marijuana in New York City. It may sound typical, but this Lethem’s is a fun approach.

The Right Stuff, by Tom Wolfe: The history of the United States space program! Fast read. The press, machismo, wives’ perspectives.

Naked Pictures of Famous People, Jon Stewart: My thoughts on Goodreads: “Where were the naked pictures? THAT’s why I’m giving this book a score closer to a 3 instead of a 3.5. Young Jon Stewart’s satire. A lot of it is funny and relevant, historical and hysterical. Some of it is more cringeworthy, though. Which can make it more fun.”

The Black Dahlia, James Ellroy: This felt a lot like Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep. “Very noir: fast-paced, gruesome, and quite tragic. With a slight tease of hope at the end.”

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, Susan Cain: Reaffirming, validating. Emphasized the value of my inherent qualities as well the qualities I’ve worked hard to develop.

Blindness, José Saramago: One of the best books I have ever read. Not even kidding.

What are you reading? I want to know.

Kissing Poll

It’s February, there’s the 14th. I’m still trying to decide if I’m one of those people who embrace the obnoxiousness of Valentine’s Day.

Sometimes I keep my eye open during prayers. I may bow my head for the first few seconds during a group supplication, but then I start looking at people and their earnest faces. They’re really intent on listening to the words of the prayer and I’m impressed and inspired by the collective faith of the group.

Now sometimes I open my eyes during kisses.

I’m not comparing prayer to kisses. I’m just saying there are two examples of when I open my eyes when my eyes are supposed to be closed.

As with prayers (still not comparing), I used to keep my eyes closed during kisses. I’m talking about the romantic ones you see on tv and the movies where the people close their eyes for entire seconds before lips meet. And then their eyes stay closed after the kiss is over. And then the people look into each other’s eyes and smile.

I thought that’s how kissing was supposed to be.

Sometimes it’s that way, but then I discovered that I could open my eyes. And that makes it a different experience. It seems that the instant my lids shut my other senses heighten. As if I’m actually blind, and I can hear/taste/smell/feel everything to an exponentially elevated degree. But how would I know that if I didn’t also try kissing with my eyes open?

Granted, it’s nice to close my eyes and let myself get lost in the moment, to enjoy this physical bond that represents deeper emotions and attachments. But there’s something about keeping my eyes open. I like being able to watch Reilly’s closed eyes.

(Sorry, Reilly. [We are generally very against public displays of affection but this blog post seems to contradict that principle. But really, you’ve only seen us kissing in pictures. And at our wedding. And a quick peck when he drops me off for work. {It’s only ever quick pecks when we’re outside our home.} That’s it. And we don’t kiss on BYU campus because we’re having too much fun laughing at the collective slobber-swapping that goes on over there.])

With my eyes open during a kiss, I like being able to see Reilly enjoy the moment, to focus on the kiss itself, to epitomize present-mindedness. There’s something very Zen about kissing. At least the kind of kissing that I’m talking about. It makes me smile. With the smiling, there’s the sensing of the smile. With the sensing of the smile, there’s the desire to maintain the smile. Which prolongs the kiss. Which I don’t object to.

So . . . I’ve achieved my blush quota for today. Now it’s poll time! Don’t worry, voting is anonymous.

Friday Hodgepodge

Tears, people. And partial bafflement.

This morning a new post appeared on my reader from my friend Amy’s blog. On Fridays she tries to post a Special Needs Spotlight, but today she decided to feature a video about the beloved American gymnast who emancipated from her parents when she was 16, Dominique Moceanu. If you know Amy’s blog, you’ll have a deeper understanding of why she posted the video. It’s inspiring even outside of this context, but nonetheless, I’m grateful she shared this video:

Two books, by worthy prizewinners:

Yesterday I finished Blindness, by José Saramago. Toward the end of my commute to work I finished a particular heartbreaking scene and held back tears while making sure my fellow commuters didn’t see how distraught I was. On my commute home I read another scene that brought joyful tears to my eyes.

This morning I finished The One and Only Ivan, by Katherine Applegate. She won the Newbery Medal in 2012. This book also made me cry, also because of sad and happy moments.

Excellent writing about important issues. Call to action and most definitely to contemplation.

I highly recommend both novels.

The other day I observed a conversation where one person said to the other,

I don’t know what your political leanings are, but there is one side that does whatever they want, and then there’s the other side with principles.

As I observed this conversation, I realized I was the other person, and the one person was talking to me. Approximately 67 trillion assumptions bounced around in my head, attracting and repelling each other until an image formed — like the kind with a magnet and iron shavings — of a big question mark. I didn’t say anything, because there were stray thoughts circling this question mark, trying to find a niche but also seeming to defy the magnetic force. In this defiance, these stray thoughts kept my brow from furrowing; they allowed me to have mercy on the one person’s soul. And if all I wanted to say was, “Huh?” I know that the one person’s “principles” would have tried to replace my metal shavings with shavings made of soap. Because the one person stands on a box of soap. Which is fine. I respect the one person’s opinion and I won’t treat the one person like less of a human being. This kind of understanding and regard is a principle the one person and I have in common. So we’re actually on the same side.

But we’re so, so not.