In perpetuum

Loss

2011-12-16T20:17:00.002-05:00

There are some things people just don’t talk about. Social norms dictate they are too personal to discuss widely. This proscription is arbitrary, for while people may believe the issues to be divided on personal lines, they are not so clearly delineated. We talk about “personal” things all the time; some personal things are freely thrown about (much to some people’s chagrin) while other areas are banned precisely because they are personal. And so, I am led to believe that people don’t broach the topics because they are uncomfortable, either for themselves or supposedly for the person on the other end of the conversation.

But the silence on these issues can be devastating for a person experiencing something “too personal” to be discussed. Certainly, people have different ways of dealing with life’s events, but many – given the chance – would gladly benefit from a conversation about these personal issues. I do not deny their personal nature; I defy the idea that their personal nature precludes discussion.

Often, the simple act of discussing something difficult with another person reduces the burden we carry. Countless times while in conversation, I have discovered that what I viewed as a personal crisis was in fact a collectively experienced one. Knowing that my experience was shared with others quelled supposed insurmountable concerns and sadness. There is something in the telling, something in the receiving and relating that heals. How many times I’ve been soothed by those unassuming words, “Me too!” The shared identity: now I can relax. What I’m feeling is normal, or at least shared by enough people that it doesn’t spell disaster for me if I’m experiencing it.

Just one year ago, I had never heard of a single person who’d had a bad honeymoon. Honeymoons were a glorious time for a new couple. Right? Right? I remember lying in bed in Honduras so sick I could hardly move. (Why in the world did we go to Honduras on our honeymoon? Nobody will ever know.) I was convinced I was the only person who’d ever had a less than stellar honeymoon. Oh, but out of the woodworks came numberless honeymoon horrors… once I started to tell my story. Why hadn’t anybody told me before my honeymoon? I wouldn’t have felt so worried and distressed if I’d known somebody else had experienced what I was going through.

And so, I feel the need to share an experience, both for my own healing and hopefully for others’. A couple weeks ago, I had a miscarriage at 8 weeks. From the beginning, I had felt a very strong connection to this little child, and my worst fear was that I would miscarry. I had seen the fetus, the heartbeat; we had chosen a name. There was life, and suddenly, it was gone. The emptiness that prevails is overwhelming; incompleteness consumes the soul. Emotions destabilize, and I find myself abruptly transitioning from laughter to tears and back to mirth. Then creeps in the deadened heaviness – no longer weepy, just hollow – and I wish I could return to the freedom of tears, with their sweet release of emotion. They say that one in eight women have post-partum depression, and I wonder what the figures are for women who miscarry. All those rapid changes in hormones and no life to show for it.

Truly, a miscarriage has been one of my keenest trials, exacerbated by my worries about my upwardly mobile age. But through it all, I have oddly felt at peace. I was able to say with meaning, “Thy will be done” before I started to miscarry. While it does not lessen the acuity of the pain, or make restitution for the loss, it brings peace and calmness. I have been sustained through this process and feel I can trust that the Lord will indeed take care of me. Just today I read the scripture, “Know ye not that ye are in the hands of God?” I am in His hands, and I can trust not only that these experiences will be for my good, but that there is a reason in all things.

A round of love for everybody

2010-11-23T07:53:00.005-05:00

Love this.

Love him.

LOVE this.

3.3.2011 in SLC!

Oh, Baltimore

2010-08-27T09:32:00.002-04:00

If I were to love Baltimore, it would have to be for its quirks - you know, those things that make you chuckle and roll your eyes a bit as you say, "Oh, Baltimore." I had one of those moments this morning as I sat in my car with the window down searching for a parking spot. A complete stranger from down the block just starts yelling, "God bless you! God bless you!" I start swiveling around to figure out who he's talking to, and - finding myself the only potential recipient of such a blessing - finally look back at him from our distance with an incredulous, "who me?" face. Stranger: "Yes, you! God bless YOU! It's a wonderful day. Whoooeee, lady! You've got a sweet ride. Seriously, I love your ride." Still separated by a couple blocks, I yell my thanks right back at him. I have to attempt my thanks several times because they are punctuated by his repeated, "That's a beautiful car. I love your ride." Finally, my light turned and I drove off to his smiles and waves, all the while thinking to myself, "Oh, Baltimore."

Waiting for the locusts

2010-08-17T09:23:00.003-04:00

In the famous words of Mikale Clark, "If it's not one natural disaster, it's another." In the last 9 months, DC survived an earthquake, a hurricane, 2 Snowmaggedons with 5 feet plus of snow (where even Johns Hopkins closed for an entire week), crazy heat waves, a tornado, weeks without power, and flash floods. It has almost become the norm to be without power, and Pepco just might get the ax. Now we're just patiently awaiting the locusts. Bring 'em on.

Thursday morning we woke up to continuous thunder and lightening like I've never heard before in my life. Deafening and continuous (although some people were miraculously able to sleep through it). And then the rains began; the heavens opened their mighty gut and gushed for 45 minutes. In that time, 4 feet of water collected in our front yard. I went to leave for work and could not even leave the door. Our cars were immersed in water and we all began to wonder if we had been magically transported to Pakistan overnight. My car story doesn't have a happy ending - I guess the engine didn't like getting soaked. But we won't dwell on that. Just thought you might want a couple pictures proof, even though these weren't at the highest point.

Keeping 'em open

2010-08-10T16:19:00.003-04:00

We live in a world of almost infinite opportunity. At every turn we are beset by new options, from the menu at a restaurant or list of careers to the people we befriend and date. Growing up in the old Land of Opportunity, we imbibe the adage "there's nothing you can't do." In so many ways, these opportunities enrich our lives, but I've also seen them wield their fair share of destruction. Too often we allow ourselves to become paralyzed by this vastness of opportunity, endlessly chasing after something simply because it is there. Just the mere awareness of an option can make it seem valuable and plausible. Sometimes we even start to dream about it becoming ours or integrating it into our lives. We fear losing something, even when it isn't necessarily a good option for us.

And it's only natural, I suppose. We humans have a potent aversion to loss, in whatever form it may come. Even the loss of something that is not technically "ours" is something our constitution avoids. We want to keep our options open, sometimes indefinitely, because quite frankly, the thought of loss is so painful to us that we do whatever we have to do to keep our doors from closing.

Dan Ariely of Predictably Irrational did an experiment where he asked people to click on a door to earn money. Each door would bring a varying profit, but it was their choice which door they continued to click. One group was allowed to revisit a door as frequently as they wanted, and they had 100 clicks total. Another group was allowed the 100 clicks, but if they left a door alone for 12 clicks, it would disappear forever. He found that participants in the 2nd scenario were harried, frantic, and made 15% less money than those in the 1st group. They would have made more money by simply choosing one door and sticking with it for the entirety of the experiment. But the presence of those options and the idea that they might disappear were enough to make participants act in illogical ways, chasing after doors that didn't present a good return on investment. In other words, they wanted to keep that door "alive" even though it wasn't benefiting them. They couldn't stand the idea of loss.

Ariely also tells the story of Xiang Yu, a Chinese commander who burned his army's own ships and destroyed all their cooking pots. Of course, his men were confused about why he would do such a seemingly crazy thing. His response was that without the pots and ships, they had no choice but to fight their way to victory or perish. He forced them to close some doors, to suffer a loss so that they were motivated to move forward.

Sometimes there will be somebody who burns our proverbial cooking pots or ships in order for us to move forward and close a door. More often, we are the ones that will have to take the initiative and make conscious decisions. There are some doors we need to close, and others we need to keep open. How do we forge ahead, consciously closing doors when expedient? And how do we decide when it is time to close a particular door?

Stewardship

2010-05-23T16:39:00.002-04:00

When I stopped eating sugar in January, I did it to be healthier, thinking that I understood the intentions behind my actions. But recently, in conversations with friends and my own gospel study, I discovered that I had underestimated my desires.

Of late, I have been thinking about what I eat in terms of my personal stewardship over my body. If my body is the "temple of God" and has been "bought with a price" I have a responsibility to maintain its sanctity by what goes into and out of it. We are told to "glorify God in [our] body" and that proper treatment and use of our body will lead to its sanctification.

We learn that the "natural man is an enemy to God." Thus, in this life we are to "bridle all [our] passions" and subject our carnal desires. This, in my opinion, is one of the principle purposes of fasting - to learn how to allow our Spirits to gain traction over our bodily desires, to practice the arts of self-mastery so that we can be more in-tune with the Lord's guidance of our lives. I also believe this is a major theme in the Word of Wisdom. The Word of Wisdom provides guidance that can facilitate self-mastery and strengthening of the spiritual. By helping us to bridle some of those passions, we are promised the blessings of wisdom, knowledge, strength, and divine protection. It is for our temporal salvation, "that every one of [us] should know how to possess [our] vessel in sanctification and honor."

Eating is tricky, because so often we do not immediately see the effects of what we do, or we don't tie food directly to how we feel. While we often focus on certain facets of the connection between the physical and spiritual, we often miss that connection when it comes to eating. But the virtues of patience and self-mastery can be so perfectly developed in making decisions about what we eat. We live in a society of self-indulgence, even hedonism at times. We want things, and we want them now. I am reminded of President Uchtdorf's talk on patience. We are becoming so unaccustomed to having to wait for anything or postpone pleasure, and this includes our eating habits. "He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls." But how often are we ceding our rule over our spirit to our temporary desires? Do you know how sweet a strawberry is when you eat no other sugar?

I am not advocating that everybody stop eating sugar - it is simply my personal decision based on my feelings of my stewardship over my body. But, I feel strongly about my need for self-mastery and temperance. I feel that what I eat has an influence on my ability to feel the Spirit and communicate with God. As I practice self-mastery, my spiritual tendencies are refined and I feel I am a better steward over what God has given me. "The same is a perfect man, able also to bridle the whole body."

Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler

2010-05-17T21:38:00.003-04:00

Milton alert! I feel privileged to report that we've got a veritable Office Space-inspired drama ensuing at my very own office. It started off innocuously enough. Our coworker came a knockin', asking if his interns could borrow staplers to do lit reviews. Why, who could turn down those cute little interns? And they needed those staplers for such a noble task (that much ennobled by our dislike of it).

Enter scene right: intern #1, with a penchant for walking in all circumstances upon his tiptoes and pasting a perpetually perplexed look upon his face. Also to be noted, a high-toned, low-volume manner of speaking.

Intern #1 walks to Big Intern Boss' office, perplexed at not finding him there. In his bewilderment, he happens to fortuitously turn around and lo... what does his eye fall on? A shiny (not red) stapler.

Complication: Said stapler is currently cohabiting with another coworker, who will certainly lay claim to the stapler.

Intern's solution: Lurk and maneuver body to size up the stapler from every angle until the owner of the stapler turns around to find him there.

Intern: "Um, I think that's my stapler."

Coworker #1: "Well, let's see... I'm pretty sure this is my stapler."

Intern: "No, see, I know that's my stapler."

Coworker #1: "When I started here, this stapler was in my office, so I think it's mine."

Coworker #2 intervenes: "Hi, Intern #1. Were you looking for a stapler? Because I put my stapler in your cube so that you could use it."

Intern: "Oh, really? I didn't see anything."

Coworker #2: "Yeah, I did. Do you want me to come and show you where I put it?"

*Intern and coworker #2 enter Intern's cube. Intern takes one look at the stapler and instantly responds, "Oh, no. See, that's not my stapler. My stapler had a sticker on the top. That's why I know Coworker #1 has my stapler. See, it's the sticker."

Coworker #2: "Well, this is a stapler and it works just fine, so how about you use this?"

Intern: "But she has my stapler."

I need you to need me

2010-04-27T13:08:00.002-04:00

I suppose that every guy has his weakness - that one thing that will make him fall madly, deeply in like with a girl. But, as I've been told ad infintum, the one ring that rules them all is being needed by a girl. A guy must feel that he is needed. Fair enough, I say. It makes perfect sense. But what I grapple with is chasing down that elusive, slim line demarcating the boundary between the overly dependent and overly independent.

We're told (and I strongly believe, I might add) that as women we should not sit around and wait for our Prince Charming to come along. We should be active, pursue our dreams, and find things that make us happy. We should act and not wait to be acted upon. In essence, we should live our lives to the fullest, seeking and finding joy in whatever stage we find ourselves.

But, as we do these things, we become increasingly independent. In fact, we acquire a necessary, learned independence. It is not necessarily that we want to do those things alone, but we must. We have to learn how to provide for ourselves and become self-sufficient. In that light, it was particularly striking to hear a man talk about this woman he was pursuing. He had doubts that she would ever be interested in him because he said, "Look at her. She's beautiful, educated, successful, well traveled, talented, and capable of doing anything she needs in her life. Where do I fit here? Why would she need me?" To this man, there was no chink in her armor. He couldn't see any entry point into her life because she was so self-sufficient. She appeared to fill any function he thought he might provide. She did not need protection, provisions, or fun. He was not needed - at least that is how he perceived it.

I think that often times women come off that way without intending to. We have to be independent, and most of us want to enjoy ourselves, wherever we are in life. So how do we provide for ourselves and pursue our dreams as we have to and want to, while still showing guys they are needed? I'm not talking about stroking pride or fostering inequitable relations between men and women. I think feeling needed is something essential for both women and men in a relationship. But how is that done? Where is that balance?

When "if-then" statements fail

2010-04-20T15:44:00.002-04:00

This is not an Onion article. I swear, this is a real news story: "Iranian cleric blames quakes on promiscuous women"
Highlights from the senior cleric include:

"Promiscuous women are responsible for earthquakes."
"Many women who do not dress modestly lead young men astray and spread adultery in society which increases earthquakes."
"What can we do to avoid being buried under the rubble? There is no other solution but to take refuge in religion and to adapt our lives to Islam's moral codes."

Wow.

Oh, what a difference a word can make

2010-04-07T10:32:00.000-04:00

As I was reading through some proposals at work, a couple things made me laugh. Sometimes a few little letters can change so much.

"Started several not profitable companies for local citizens..."

On a person's CV:

"Arabic: Fluent

English: Unacceptable"

*Note: the "unacceptable English" proposal was not tied to the first quote, although maybe it should be...

Major faux pas

2010-03-31T08:28:00.002-04:00

I met this Arab guy today who told me he was going to NYC and asked me what he should do there. In my mind I started walking around NYC and was naming things he should do as I got there on my mental walking tour. I was so focused on envisioning the area and what there was to do in that area that I utterly forgot to think about who I was talking to. I mentioned the Statue of Liberty and then my imagined feet took me to Ground Zero. So I rattled that off, too, not thinking a wink. I stopped when I noticed his ironic look. He sputtered, "Yeah, I have no interest in going there at all." My friend sunk back into her chair and pretended she hadn't heard anything. To add salt to my open faux pas, I found out that he's Iraqi. Great, Heather. Really great. So, this is why Americans are so beloved around the world, eh?

Language confusion

2010-03-27T12:23:00.001-04:00

And the results are in. Number one sign you’ve been in a foreign country too long: When you finally get the chance to speak to a native English speaker, you’re still speaking in broken, almost unintelligible English. You might find yourself saying things like, “Oh, it too much hot in here,” or “Ben come?” On other occasions you just might substitute one key word for an entire sentence, leaving that word to be interpreted as it may: “Office?” And then, the confused and unmarred English speaker looks at you pityingly and nods or walks away.

Quote of the day

2010-03-21T12:21:00.001-04:00

“You know, you’re not black; you’re white. But, besides that you look exactly like an Ethiopian.”

Coffee

2010-03-17T17:23:00.003-04:00

Ethiopia. It's the country where coffee was invented. Coffee is Ethiopia's main source of income, by a long shot. Coffee is life in Ethiopia.

Now, imagine little old me trying to explain to a bunch of quizzical Ethiopians why I don't drink coffee.

The password is Ethiopia

2010-03-12T08:20:00.002-05:00

Oh, CVS. Every time I go there to pick up a prescription - no matter how long they've had to fill the prescription - it isn't ready. I've had to entirely quit myself of the assumption that when your doctor calls in a prescription it will be filled. So, I don't know why I was at all surprised this week when, upon approaching the pharmacist, we began the familiar haggling. "Sanders, you say? When did you drop it off? No, I don't see anything here. Are you sure your doctor called it in?" This is followed by staff receiving the novel inspiration to check their voice messages, which apparently have not been checked in days. Oh! There's that message where my doctor called in my prescription 2 days ago.

This week has been crazy busy and I really didn't feel like I wanted to spend more time driving all the 6 blocks (I know, I know) back to CVS. So, a little exasperated, I mentioned off-handedly, "It's just that I'm going to Ethiopia in a couple days and I really need this prescription before I go." Ethiopia?! All eyes snapped to me, people started smiling, and I began to receive profuse congratulations on my decision to travel to Ethiopia. Everybody stopped what they were doing, wanting to talk to me about Ethiopia and bless me for what I was doing. The pharmacist in the back pulled me aside and furtively said, "I can have your prescription ready in 10 minutes. Can you wait that long?"

So, if your pharmacy is anything like most of the pharmacies I've been to in DC, you might want to casually throw in the word "Ethiopia" without regard to the propriety of its use. You just never know what they might be willing to do when you mention that secret password.

Saturday gems

2010-02-25T12:53:00.012-05:00

I love Saturdays. For some many reasons. One is getting to go visit Juanita, who provides endless entertainment. Another is DC bucket list activities.

As a bucket list activity, we headed down to the National Building Museum. Though it was family engineering day, we didn't let our child lack stand in the way. Besides, I think that a group of 20-somethings qualifies for the nouveau family category. (We're oh-so-modern.) We found ourselves at a table-making station, surrounded by all the newspaper and tape you could ever want. So there we were, in the midst of half-hearted 8-year-olds and over zealous fathers, making a newspaper table to see how much weight it could hold. We really poured our souls into this table. JP even brought out his knife, so we knew it was serious business. We drew up schematic after schematic and divided into task forces. When we were ready to proudly present our table, we brought it up for its moment in time. The weighing guy looked at us incredulously, but with no kids to be found, he accepted our over-achieving table.

Weighing guy: "You realize that you're competing against 5th graders, right?"

Me: "Yeah, this is how we get our kicks. We are utterly unsuccessful in normal life, so we have to compete against kids to prove our worth."

John: "Has anybody's been able to hold all the weight yet, or will ours be the first?"

Weighing guy: "Who do you think you are? Just because you're all adults, you think you have a market on strong newspaper tables? Of course others have withstood all the weight!"

Well, all right. Maybe he didn't say that. But his look said it all. Anyway, our pride was merited: our table held all the weight they could bring. In our excitement, we got a tad overconfident and told a 10-year-old boy to stand on it. Now the weighing guy's laughing.

FoodGawker

2010-02-25T12:53:00.010-05:00

I am in seriously deep smit with this food site. I could content myself just looking at the pictures, the colors, the unusual names. But, they've got recipes and food tips to boot. Sigh of smit.

Is it me... or is it you?

2010-02-20T23:37:00.002-05:00

Ah, there you are emptiness. We two are such handy co-conspirators. What force is it that keeps us knocking heads? Big parties, you say? Oh, yes. That's it.

Is it me? Am I the only one who feels empty and deflated after big parties? In theory, these big parties seem like great inventions: see anybody who's anybody in one place. Brilliant. But, once you start getting into the actual details, well, it all falls apart. Talking about inane things with person after person? Not brilliant. Trying to hold the attention of a person so over-stimulated that they can't keep their eyes on you? Again, not brilliant. Screaming at people just to be heard? Not brilliant, I say. I feel my hours meaningless and stale. But maybe that's not the point. I don't think anybody ever sat down and thought, "Hmm, now here's something meaningful: big parties." I don't believe that everything we do has to be uber meaningful, but I do think that as humans we crave meaningful interactions with our fellow beings.We desire something beyond the superficial, something to give purpose a footing. We seek discovery, intimacy, even vulnerability. And big parties just don't do that. Yet we follow after our fallen god.

But perhaps I assume too much. Perhaps I am among the few disenchanted. Either way, I have to ask myself: Why do I do it? Why do I keep returning to my folly? Isn't there a better way? I don't want to be stuck with co-pilot emptiness, but I choose it. I don't know if I go out of obligation, or just because I do genuinely want to see my friends, and I believe it might be different (always room for a little hope, non?). But, something's gotta change. I've got to find a better way. Who's with me?

Indistinguishable

2010-01-11T19:35:00.007-05:00

After many long years of oppression, redheads have finally had enough. Me and my posse of 3 are speaking out. And we are here to debunk some popular myths about redheads. We only have time for one tonight, but it's an important one. Redhead myth #1: All redheads must be related, regardless of the fact that they otherwise look nothing alike. Come on, people! We redheads have got to have at least one other distinguishing characteristic. I mean, does anybody even look beyond our fiery locks? There's more to us than a little ginger. So, next time, please take a closer look, and don't be so hasty to think we all look alike.

I am frequently told I look like celebrities, and I maintain that it is only because I have red hair, and so do they (or have had at some point in their illustrious careers). In order of look-alike frequency:

1. Lindsay Lohan

2. Melissa Joan Hart

3. Tina Fey

4. Christina Hendricks

Really? I look nothing like them... minus the hair color. I hope 2010 will bring a more discerning eye to my public. Meanwhile, we redheads will work working furiously to debunk the spurious myths surrounding us.

Games

2010-01-05T19:53:00.002-05:00

Pensive. Confused. That knot that only anxiety has the power to muster. Embarrassment of naivety exposed. Not even the cold wind can coax these worried feet to hasten their thoughtful, plodding steps. Didn't anybody care when I declared my abhorrence of politics? When I claimed abstention from their games? No, they jeer, you are a part of this. Everybody is a part of this; no exemptions. You can ignore them, but the politics will play you just the same. And the politics did play me. Played me, regurgitated me even as I spurned them. Must I play their game to beat them at it? Why can I not stand outside, act outside their realm? Why must their tentacles coil around every corner? Is there no choice? I want to clear a space for integrity, but it is so quickly overgrown. I want to trust another's intention, but I am made to calculate and question. I want to share my knowledge, but I am reprimanded by propriety and exclusivity. I want to say what I think; I do. And I am played, played, played.

The "m" word

2009-12-09T15:47:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure how it happens, but over the past couple of weeks I have found myself smack in the middle of marriage conversations with a surprising array of parents (including my own). It has been enlightening to hear parents' perspectives on why we young people aren't getting married as early or at all. Some ideas are backed by research, some are just musings, but all are fascinating to me, because they provide context for viewing my generation's desires and sacrifices. I think a few of their reasons are just off-track entirely. Others are viable reasons, but, based on my experience, are insufficient to explain a complete phenomenon.

And so I sit here stumped, trying to explain what seems to be inexplicable. I just don't get it. I often hear that young people just don't want to get married. That, to me, is glib and unrepresentative. Everything I have seen tells me that desire is there. In fact, it is so much there that anxiety and bitterness can start to run the show. In my experience, and we're talking Mormons and non-Mormons alike, I have been hard pressed to find somebody lacking the desire for marriage. That sentiment is definitely out there, but has been rare enough for me to discount it as a reason for explaining a broad phenomenon.

I have also heard that my generation just isn't willing to make the sacrifices that are necessary to commit to and maintain a marriage. Again, I think that may be true to a certain extent, but that aversion to sacrifices is not widespread enough to be a significant reason. Perhaps others have found it otherwise, and I would love to hear about it. Perhaps I associate with such high quality people (true!) that I miss the reality of the situation.

Other reasons for delayed and absent marriage include addiction to video games, pornography, increasing education levels among women, ease of materialism, selfishness, pride, lack of understanding about marriage, fear of failure, unrealistic expectations, negative feedback from friends and family, and on and on. The reasons behind this complexity surely cannot be explained by one reason, or even two. Even so, I feel consistently baffled by the fact that so many wonderful people who intensely desire to get married, are still single.

It makes me wonder whether it's not the marriage part that people have a problem with, but what leads up to a marriage: in a word, courtship. Is courtship a dying art? Is courtship still necessary in these times? Do we have unrealistic expectations when it comes to dating and courting? Do we shrug people off too early in the game? Are we too set on what we think we want and need, that we don't open ourselves to new possibilities? Are people getting asked out? I think it's pretty clear that our perception of love has been completely skewed by the media. We often believe that is not affecting us, but I think it may have more impact than we want to admit. Do we secretly hope and believe that love will be like in the movies? Do we not appreciate the work that goes into any relationship? Do we over-emphasize a first date? Are we too prideful to take a chance on somebody if we don't immediately feel something for them?

I am really grappling with this. If anybody is still reading this blog (since I never post...), PLEASE let me know what you think.

Living proof

2009-11-19T10:11:00.000-05:00

Blessed reversal

2009-11-14T16:51:00.006-05:00

You know, usually when you find yourself absent from a meeting or planning session, you can expect those present to assign you the most unpalatable task. It's almost an axiom, something you build your world on. Last week, my roommates stepped right over this bedrock and bucked the tradition.

When I was traveling, my roommates decided to make motivational sticker charts. In my absence, not only did I not get relegated the worst task, I got the best task of them all (Oh, saintly roommates!). While they are stuck in the doldrums of no sugar and waking up before 7, I on the other hand...

... Well, you can see I will be happily engaged.

Behavior change

2009-10-07T20:27:00.002-04:00

It's strange how difficult it can be to change a behavior, even when it comes to changing a good behavior to a bad one. I work in behavior change, and supposedly understand some ways to make people adopt new behaviors. Yet, I still have a time of it trying to change myself.

Here I stand, post-birthday gifts, with a lovely ipod touch. It's real nice and perdy, and in theory, I think it could be useful if used sparingly. But I just can't get myself to use it. Perhaps it's because I resisted it and felt a strong moral opposition to it, and then finally caved. Perhaps it's a feeling of guilt. I don't know, but it's like a sense of awkwardness creeps over me, like I don't know how to use it, and I just put it aside. It's like I have to alter my whole world view to start making an ipod part of it. I have to make room for the ipod, but I feel ambivalent toward it. It has to be something you consciously think about, and I just don't. I forget completely that I even own it, and it sits on my bedside table. I see it when I go to bed and wonder, what is it I'm supposed to do with this here thing? Strange, isn't it?

Office dweller

2009-10-06T12:32:00.005-04:00

I am not made for the office. The office breaks me. Breaks me slowly, but breaks me the same. It shows, perhaps not to the outside world, but to me. Things that used to astonish and grate at integrity become part of the accepted undertone of the office . Things I swore I'd always do, no matter what the circumstance, well. Immune to weather, hands smooth - not calloused, conversations removed from the converser, eyes glazed with computer, limbs unused and wasting, parceled work and play, sunshineless cells, world revolving around a world.

Really, I cannot accept that I am the only one who feels this way. I don't think man is made for the office. Man wants to create, to use hands, to connect with the land, to be part of something larger. And yet so many of us are caught in this fabricated world that is office life. I don't want to find myself old and softened by office living. But what to do?

"I'm off to the subway
I must not be late.
Going to work in tall buildings.

Now when I retire
and my life is my own
I made all the payments
it's time to go home
and wonder what happened
betwixt and between
when I went to work in tall buildings"

-Tall Buildings, John Hartford

Herbal love

2009-09-26T16:45:00.002-04:00

All my love is directed in the herbal direction this week. And the proud owner of that love? Tarragon, ladies and gents. Why is it that I am only now learning how amazing tarragon is? How it complements every dish? I think I have hoisted tarragon to the dizzying heights at which I hold Nutella. Even cardboard would taste good with tarragon. So, watch out if you happen to be supping with me in the upcoming weeks; you might get a little more tarragon than you can handle.

Synergistically bad

2009-09-25T13:21:00.012-04:00

With this financial crisis, I have - along with millions of others - wondered how we got ourselves into this mess. How did we lose control? How did we blind ourselves to the consequences of our actions? Some of my answers lie in the make-up of the entities we have raised: Created by man, morphing machinery beholden to The Man, growing larger than man, controlled not by man but by some synergistic other. Often, in creating these entities, we cede our agency to something larger than we ourselves can control, something mercurial that does not abide the laws we originally intended. Lackeys of this, our great creation, we run around believing we are fulfilling our desires, only to discover we have been duped by the monster we have been feeding. We may suddenly find ourselves apologetic at the actions we are performing; but, no longer the bosses, we watch in horror. Some grow to accept what they must do to maintain the machine of their own creation, despite the stark differences between intention and actuality. Others may rage against it, but feel confused as to how to stop the engine of something they should - but do not - control.

I think of The Grapes of Wrath, the owners coming to boot the tenants off the land: "We’re sorry. It’s not us. It’s the monster. The bank isn’t like a man."

"Yes, but the bank is only made of men."
"No, you’re wrong there—quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It
happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it.
The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It's the monster. Men made it, but they can't control it."

How is it that we can create something and then lose total control over it? Is it possible to create something that builds up the creator, rather than building itself up? Likewise, is it possible to continue unscathed by what we create, continue to see things as they are, and not as this creation views them? Can we continue in our authenticity, doggedly pushing what we believe the entity should be? Can we keep the end user in mind? Or will this new-fangled, evolutionary entity "goggle [our] mind, muzzle [our] speech, goggle [our] perception,

muzzle [our] protest" until we no longer recognize the realities and physicality behind our actions? Will we allow ourselves to reach the point where we "eat what [we] did not raise" because we are so disconnected with the repercussions of our creations? Can we, as insinuated in The Grapes of Wrath passage below, remain intimately involved, wise stewards rather than absentee landlords?

"Funny thing how it is. If a man owns a little property, that property is him, it's part of him, and it's like him. If he owns property only so he can walk on it and handle it and be sad when it isn't doing well, and feel fine when the rain falls on it, that property is him, and some way he's bigger because he owns it. Even if he isn't successful he’s big with his property. That is so.

"But let a man get property he doesn’t see, or can’t take time to get his fingers in, or can’t be there to walk on it—why, then the property is the man. He can't do what he wants, he can't think what he wants. The property is the man, stronger than he is. And he is small, not big. Only his possessions are big—and he's the servant of his property. That is so, too."

Most importantly, do we have the integrity and bravery to admit when we have created a bad thing? Do we possess the courage to forge ahead and try again?

Takin' a lift

2009-09-14T19:07:00.004-04:00

The elevator and I spent some gooood quality time today. The first thing you should know about my office is that the only stairs in the building are emergency stairs that set an alarm off if you use them, therefore rendering them virtually unusable. So, after work I unassumingly stepped onto the elevator trying to get to my floor. I pressed "3" and waited. Nothing. Pressed it again. Now that may have been my cue to get off the elevator and wait for another one, but I persisted. After multiple attempts and the best baffled looks I could summon, I finally stepped off the elevator to try and catch another one. But, no matter how many times I tried to convince another elevator to come, I ended up with ELEVATOR #6. So, it's you and me, 6. Let's try this again. This time when I got on, the elevator started going up, which - although my number still didn't light up - I thought was progress. Oh, I am so easily mislead. I rode up to floor 6, picked up a dude, and headed back down, desperately swiping my badge and pressing "3" in a rapid-fire motion the whole way down. When we got to the lobby and I didn't budge, the guy looked at me strangely and reluctantly got off. This time, I made my way back up to 6, picked some more people up who didn't know what a ride they were in for. The elevator strolled up and down; 6, lobby, 6, lobby, 6, lobby... without ever opening its doors. We rode like this, 3 strangers, for an entire 5 minutes, nervously twittering. When we were finally spit out halfway above the lobby, we called it good. Despite my newly forged bonds with Elevator 6, I abandoned her and found another more trustworthy companion.

Pursuit

2009-08-30T22:10:00.003-04:00

As we get older, many people's questioning shifts from the what to the how. The looming, nebulous question of what to do with our lives begins to crystallize, and we are left staggering under the weight of how to pursue those passions. What is the venue? Where is the path? What are the channels? For some people, the way seems clear, but for the rest of us, our exposure in life shows us there are multitudinous means to a singular end. We may want to abolish illiteracy, for example, but what is the best way to do it? And not just what is the best way, but what is our best way, given our strengths and capabilities? Should we become teachers, or administrators? Tutors on the side? Politicians? Advocates?

My angst du jour, or perhaps du année is inequities. Life situations lately have left me in tears trying to reconcile why I have so much and others have so little. I suppose juxtaposing the passing of Ted Kennedy - somebody who indefatigably fought to elevate the depressed and abolish inequities - and watching the Pursuit of Happyness only heightened my angst. Senator Kennedy found the channel that, for him, was the best way to make the impact he desired. Yet I am still getting caught in my riling, impassioned over a subject, but feeling helpless to make any difference. Senator Kennedy used his power to help the powerless, a reminder of the nobility possessed by those who refuse to abuse their power. Yet his path is not my path.

I think of an unassuming Bolivian woman who grew up in a mining community and became a strong advocate for miners and Bolivians. The laudability of her efforts, in my mind, comes more from the fact that she never forgot her roots. As she grew in fame and had opportunities to be treated as the high and mighty, she never let her mind wander from her people and purpose. She would ask, "If my people can't stay in a fancy hotel, how can I allow myself such luxury?" "How can I justify having these luxuries when people I love do not enjoy the same?" The solidarity she felt with her people would not allow her to renege on her values, no matter what she was offered. Her philosophy was simple: if they can't have it, then I won't. While her example has always been compelling, I'm not sure that denying ourselves something we have been given is necessarily a long-term solution. But I'm left wondering, what can I do to show my commitment, my passion, to see results I care about? How can I pursue this in a way that complements my natural talents? I feel so lost.

Latest and greatest in contraception

2009-05-09T12:36:00.002-04:00

The other day, we were doing a community workshop on women's empowerment. It was the family planning day, so we were talking about what kinds of modern birth control methods were available in their community. Things were going pretty much as expected when one woman spoke up. She started listing some of the usual methods "pills, implants... and of course, one of the most effective methods is a husband's death." Yep, I'm pretty sure that'll do it. Pretty much 100% effective. I can just see the campaign now. Latest and greatest in birth control: death. Pretty novel.

More American than TV

2009-04-22T22:02:00.000-04:00

Inevitably, when I tell people that I don't have a TV, they look at me like I've just told them that I killed my own mother. The next sure question is, "What do you do with all your free time?" That question always gets me. I look at them as if they are equally crazy and ask, "What free time?" Seriously, I have no idea how people have time to watch TV.

"Leave 'Em Wanting More"

2009-03-30T20:46:00.002-04:00

This week, my mom gave Mikale a sweet, unassuming gift of cherry lip balm. Little did she know the package contained scandalous kissing tips. With tips like these, we're all going to become brazen hussies:

"Pull back and look down, then look into his eyes. If he liked the kiss you'll most likely kiss again. Look at his lips, he will get the signal you want more!"

And, a thought in parting from the Ladies Home Journal (1948): "It takes a lot of experience for a girl to kiss like a beginner."

Thanks, mom!

Plants after my heart

2009-03-29T18:38:00.005-04:00

So, I don't own a home. Nor do I have any plans to own one in the near future. But that doesn't stop me from daydreaming about the landscape I will have. There are 3 plants that absolutely must be a part of my home: a Mimosa tree, a Teacup Magnolia tree and Forsythia. And, while I'm at it, I might as well include that my house needs to be within a 10 minute walking distance from a lake. Oh, and I'll be needing a few fruit trees.

A little something

2009-03-23T22:49:00.002-04:00

Do you ever feel like something is lacking in your life? Like something is missing - that you're searching for some unknown thing that will make you whole? (Sounds like the beginning of a convert's testimony.) I've been experiencing this feeling the past week. I feel like I'm waiting for something, needing something. I feel dissatisfied, discontent, like I want to get away. Yet at the same time I feel happy overall. It's like something is askew or an intense feeling of hidden frustration. With something. What is that something?

Another suitor for the Civic

2009-03-19T18:53:00.002-04:00

We'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but it is futile to deny what is so blatantly true. I'll just say it, then: each of us in the Belvedere Mansion grows increasingly jealous by the day. The object of our jealousy is no less than Claire's 1996 black, radio-less, tail-pipe-dragging, battery-less, air-condition-free Honda Civic. Yes, it's a sad state to be in (for us, not the car).

Civic has sat in our driveway for months, neglected, unwanted, decomposing before our eyes. Yet in a Mahana-like turn of events, suddenly Civic has become desperately wanted, even coveted. Without even the advantage of Craig's list marketing, Civic has managed to muster up several suitors in just 2 days. Men have been checkin her out something fierce. She has experienced aggressive courting, men fighting over her, offers of love affairs, and ever increasing monetary promises.

Today we came home to a note of last resort:
"I would like to buy your (love) but you talked to another guy about it [unfaithful!]. I will give you *$800* cash for your (love) [money talks] and I won't even talk to the other man about it [intrigues pique interest]. It will just be between you and me [baby, oh baby]. Call me as soon as you can [sold!]. I have cash. Tonight!"

Oh, to have the suitors of a run-down Civic.

Dis-persuasion

2009-03-10T22:15:00.000-04:00

You would think that on an external marketing site for a national park, the objective would be to draw in visitors, right? Usually yes. But on some occasions, the national parks sabotage themselves by writing things like this:

During the pony swim, approx. 40,000 visitors wait along what many say is an "extremely over crowded shoreline". Large numbers of people wait for many long hours in an area far from the swim where the restrooms are located. There are no restrooms close to the swim since it is a tidal marsh.
People say that the best way for you to experience the wild ponies of Assateague Island is to just: "Go any other time during the season. That's when you can see them best. You can see the herds of wild ponies where they live along the island on the boat nature tour that runs from May 16th thru Oct 11th"... If you are still interested in seeing the Annual Pony Swim, there is also a special charter to get a much closer view of the Chincoteague wild pony swim (limited seats).

Um, what? Which competitor hacked into their system?

The Bird And The Bee

2009-03-04T20:41:00.001-05:00

I love this band. That's all.

Defining needful

2009-03-03T19:46:00.001-05:00

This past week I noticed that I was becoming a bit negative and irritable. Harried and frazzled, I was having a hard time focusing on what I needed to accomplish. As I tried to determine what was making me feel this way, I realized that I had not taken time for myself. I hadn't given myself opportunities for silence, rejuvenation, and stillness.

I often feel torn between competing "goods." As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I have made covenants of consecration to God. These covenants motivate me to serve those around me - to give of my talents and time. I feel that serving and giving freely of my time - essentially turning over everything I have to the Lord - brings me great joy and fulfillment. But a person cannot give all the time. There are times when you give more, and other times when you receive more; but no matter the stage, everybody needs to take time to fill themselves and tend to their own needs. The struggle I experience is defining the point where my own pursuits are selfish. I guess it is a matter of dividing needs from wants, but that division for me is ever-elusive.

I think of Martha who was doing praiseworthy, good things: "cumbered about much serving." In a very real sense, she was providing service to God. But, as Elder Oaks mentions, her service at that moment wasn't the best thing she could be engaging in. Meanwhile, Mary sat at Christ's feet, learning about the gospel. She was filling herself and increasing her spiritual capacity. While not degrading the value or importance of what Martha was doing, Christ guided her, saying "One thing is needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part."

So, what is that needful thing? Elder Oaks said, "just because something is good is not a sufficient reason for doing it... Make sure that the essential needs are met, but do not go overboard in creating so many good things to do that the essential ones are not accomplished." I completely agree, but conflict creeps in as I apply the principle. It could very well be self-fabricated conflict, non-existent in reality. For example, if on a given evening I arrive at the conclusion that it is essential to devote time to myself, and deem an opportunity for service as just good, is that all right? Knowing that in every circumstance the needful will vary, could that decision be classified as choosing the needful, or is it selfish? Is doing so contradicting my covenant to give all I have, including my time and effort, to God?

One word Wednesdays

2009-02-24T13:10:00.004-05:00

Joy.

(Thanks to Zina for Wordless Wednesdays)

Involved

2009-02-16T22:03:00.003-05:00

Lincoln Steffens wisely said, "The misgovernment of the American people is misgovernment by the American people." I have spent many a day listening to people bemoan the current state of affairs, whether that be our financial situation, a poor education system, disrespectful youth, or corrupt leaders. I certainly have added my two cents to the growing mound of complaints. But, to what extent are we responsible for both the decline and the necessary improvements? So often, it's simple to shirk our responsibilities, not just because it takes too much effort, but because we manifest an individualistic mentality. It is easy to believe that one person's actions cannot change society - and I am not going to argue with such a statement. But to allow cynicism to paralyze us into inaction will only exacerbate the problems. That is precisely why we must be proactive in organizing ourselves and others to address the problems that affront us. Robert Putnam said, "Americans of [the Progressive] era did not simply bemoan 'the way kids are today,' or long nostalgically for the lost social control of the village. Rather, the Progressives devoted their intellectual, organizational, and financial energies to blazing constructive new paths for youth."

If we're dissatisfied with society, who is to blame really? We live in a democracy, which doesn't function properly when people forfeit their involvement in it. Again, it is easy to rationalize inaction, because it isn't clear how going to a local community meeting can impact national policies. But the grand is composed of minutia. We cannot fairly blame big politicians if we are not fulfilling our civic duties. We can become disillusioned or we can get involved in our communities.

Historian Richard McCormick wrote about the final years of the nineteenth century, but it sounds suspiciously like what we are confronting now: "Amid hard times, many Americans questioned the adequacy of their institutions and wondered whether democracy and economic equality were possible in an industrial society. Answering these questions with hope and hard work, some men and women began to experiment with new methods for solving the problems at hand. Hundreds poured their energies into settlement houses where they lived and worked among the urban poor. From their pulpits a new generation of ministers sought to make Christianity relevant to this world, not only the next, by aligning their churches actively on the side of the disadvantaged. Across the country the movement for municipal reform entered a new phase as businessmen and professionals tried to reach beyond their own ranks and enlist broad support for varied programs of urban improvement. Women's clubs increasingly turned their attention from discussing literature to addressing social problems."

So, as we face our own looming problems with the economy, malfunctioning systems, and a broken people: how will we solve the problems? What will our contribution be? Not, "who is to blame for this mess?" and "what will the politicians do to fix this?" but "what responsibility do we, as members of a democracy, bear in both the creation and resolution of these problems?" This is not to say that government and politicians do not have an important role to play; it is simply to say that we also have a critical role to play. We cannot sit idly by.

V Day gifts

2009-02-13T18:58:00.005-05:00

For all of you men out there who are just stumped about what to get that special lady, look no further. Remember those half heart "HeartMates" pendants? Or how 'bout those BFF bracelets? So 15 years ago. If you really want to tell your girl that your heart is hers, AND that you're hip and with the times, you'll get her this:

Sure to spark a connection. A love connection.

Hopeless

2009-02-05T15:53:00.005-05:00

So, on my way to the airport in Amman, the taxi driver and I were holding a pretty average conversation until he asked me if I was married. Told him "nope" simple as that. But questions like this die hard. The inevitable follow up question: "How old are you?" Now, if you're ever in this situation in Jordan, do NOT say 28; I don't care what kind of after life it brings you. I wasn't aware of this little piece of advice back then, however, so I responded, "28." Driver almost loses control of the road as he turns back to stare at me in disbelief and great concern. Literal first words from his mouth: "Oh, no! There's no hope!" Yeah, thanks for that. Is it not enough to get it from worried elderly ladies in your ward? Apparently not. He quite honestly expressed his deepest sorrows for about 10 minutes. I'm now acutely aware of my position in life. Let me break it down for you. If you find yourself to be 28 and not married, sorry - but apparently neither looks, wealth, talents nor stature can redeem the passage of time. These are your only marriage options:

1. You will never get married
2. You will have to marry a very old man
3. You will have to marry a very ugly man
4. You will have to marry a (gasp) divorced man

Or, some horrific combination of the above. So, for all you very old, ugly men out there: I'm available!

Camels. They're a crossin'.

2009-02-04T09:31:00.002-05:00

Betcha don't see this every day.

Wildling herbs, melting tea

2009-01-19T03:21:00.006-05:00

Ah, how I love translations. What exactly are wildling herbs? Dunno, but they were chosen carefully. And, who doesn't like their tea to have a melting effect?

Jordan-isms

2009-01-19T03:10:00.002-05:00

Here I am in Jordan, working on a healthy lifestyles campaign. According to our most recent study, married women exercise the least when compared to married men, young women, and young men. Two-thirds of married women said they had not exercised at all. It's been interesting to see those research results in real life. Every day when I go to the gym, I comb the facilities for another woman. I have yet to see another woman working out at the gym. I got so concerned that today I finally asked the man at the desk, “This gym is for girls, right?” I was worried that all this time I had neglected to notice a sign saying “MEN ONLY.” Apparently, I had no need to be flustered. The gym serves both sexes, it's just that one is conspicuously missing.

Meanwhile, at the office, we're working on our anti-smoking mass media campaign. We're sitting around the table discussing the pre-testing results and which logo would best convey the following ideas: “It's against the law to smoke in public places” and “Second-hand smoke is harmful to the health of those around you.” Mid conversation, our media team grab their cigarettes, put them in their mouths, and start to light up. Hmmm... guess the campaign isn't quite having the effect we'd like it to have. Well, “slowly, slowly” as they say here.

Work

2009-01-06T12:41:00.004-05:00

Over the break I watched the HBO series on John Adams. And loved it. But that's not entirely the point. I have considered myself grateful for what my predecessors have done, especially those founders and pioneers of this nation. But it wasn't until I watched John Adams that my naivety began to haunt me. Somehow, through all the historical books, movies, and sites, the gravity of it all escaped me. I did not know fully see what I ought to be grateful for because I did not fathom all that had been given nor what I owed at the sacrificers' hands.

What struck me was how hard working they all were - the endless amount they were willing to give for a cause they cared about. For all intents, the tasks before them were insurmountable. Yet they carried on with singularity of purpose. Men sacrificed years away from families, their health, their lives. Women were left alone to work the farms, take care of sick and dying children, fend off invaders, suffer from loneliness. They knew how and were willing to work for long, often indefinite periods of time, to enjoy their desired end result.

I often wonder if we have that same know-how, perseverance and willingness to pay the price for what we want. Speaking of Americans, I'm not sure we have the patience or a large enough dose of that quaint little virtue called hard work. It's interesting, though, because in some ways, I view Americans as an insanely workaholic people - but that's typically in the workplace. That kind of hard work often entails longer and longer hours - working for the sake of working rather than working hard and determinately to achieve a goal or desire.

Lack of true hard work, the immediacy of results, and the unchecked fulfillment of desires are at the root of many problems today. These things impede our ability to appreciate what we get. Ingratitude and undervaluing, in turn, affect the way we treat others and the things around us. Little effort with big returns causes a discordance that perhaps we are uncomfortable with at a basic level. For example, to communicate with one another, all we have to do these days is type a few words and press a button. The ease of communicating is wonderful, but can also cause us to undervalue our communication with each other. We can become casual or even recalcitrant in our relationships. Our lack of patience breeds impatience, while our lack of hard work engenders higher expectations.

I think part of the struggle is finding a way to use and appreciate the things that make life easier, while still maintaining a strong work ethic and being deliberate about valuing the things we have.

Year in review

2008-12-31T12:07:00.003-05:00

As my family sat around the breakfast table this morning, we read Dave Barry's "Bailing out 2008" year review. My favorite part:
"As world financial markets collapse like fraternity pledges at a keg party and banks fail around the world, the International Monetary Fund implements an emergency program under which anybody who opens a checking account anywhere on Earth gets a free developing nation." Ah, 2008.

All things made up

2008-12-28T15:48:00.005-05:00

Over the past few days, I've been attempting to reconcile some ideas that, while not completely contradictory, are not wholly amicable in their exchange. I believe that we each enter into this world with certain deprivations, predilections, and weaknesses. One may be predisposed to drug abuse, while another - who has no affinity toward drug use - is predisposed to cheating. Some of these tendencies may be more intense than others, some more difficult to overcome, some more serious in consequence. Whatever the predisposition, we each have things that, if we are to return to God, must be confronted and overcome. Some people are able to overcome their deprivations or weaknesses in this life through what may be a passing (though difficult) trial. Others, like Paul, are unable to extinguish these predilections and must live with their "thorn[s] in the flesh." Their lot is to endure through the constant reminders of weakness and imperfection, through the incessant bombardment of temptation.
We have been taught that the Lord "will be merciful unto [our] weakness," (D&C 38:14) that "such mortal allotments will be changed in the world to come," (Neal Maxwell) and that all we lack will be made up to us in the world to come. My question is, to what extent do these promises hold true? Is it only to faithful members that such promises are extended? Is faith prerequisite to having all things made up to us hereafter?
I firmly believe in the Atonement's power to facilitate change, to enable, to provide mercy, and to fill us with what we lack - to make up for what we cannot ourselves do. The Atonement has power to help us confront both our fleeting trials and our thorns in the flesh. Through the Atonement we can be made whole, perfect, sanctified. The injunction is to come unto Christ to receive that perfection, which brings me to faith. Faith is the first principle of the gospel, and to access the Atonement we must have faith, right? As Moroni tells us, we need to "come unto Christ, and be be perfected in him, and deny [ourselves] of all ungodliness; and if [w]e shall deny [ourselves] of all ungodliness, and love God with all [our] might, mind and strength, then is His grace sufficient for [us], that by his grace [w]e may be perfect in Christ."
My concern is for those who lack that faith - those for whom having faith is their thorn in the flesh. I know many people who have exerted their souls to believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In many ways, I believe that they have poured more effort into obtaining this belief and faith than I. Yet, in the end, they have decided that they are unable to believe. I have seen and heard of people who have wept, truly wept, because they have tried desperately to believe and cannot. They want to believe yet they cannot. I have wondered lately where these people stand. Is this sort of deprivation something that will be made up to them? Will they be able to have this gift hereafter? Or, because faith is so necessary to everything else, because it is the foundation for all of the gospel, will they have missed the opportunity to pursue actions that stem from faith? Ordinances that are necessary for salvation require faith, and we are told that this life is the time to make those choices. This life, after all, is the time for our probation, and we should not delay in seeking God. I want to believe that they will have the opportunity to find that faith even though they haven't been able to overcome that deprivation in this life.
I believe that just because I cannot explain something, does not mean that it cannot be explained (Neal Maxwell). Elder Maxwell said, "Meekly borne, however, deprivations such as these can end up being like excavations that make room for greatly enlarged souls. Some undergo searing developments that cut suddenly into mortality’s status quo. Some have trials to pass through, while still others have allotments they are to live with... Suffice it to say, such mortal allotments will be changed in the world to come." Joseph Fielding Smith said, "The Lord will judge you according to the desires of your hearts when blessings are withheld in this life." I do believe these things. I just don't know how to reconcile.

Commis commis everywhere

2008-12-22T13:07:00.004-05:00

Scare tactics really do work. You sure won't find me downloading free music. You just might, however, find me in a psych office babbling about how the Commis are coming to get us.

Qualifications

2008-12-17T17:24:00.002-05:00

New York Times reporter on why Caroline Kennedy is qualified for the NY Senate seat: "...She's a lawyer, she's written books, she's beautiful..." Uh, whose job was it to inform me that beauty is a qualifying position for the Senate? Because I had no idea until yesterday. Ah, beauty can get you far in this crazy world of ours.

True meaning

2008-12-02T22:27:00.003-05:00

Each year at Christmas time I embark on a "true meaning" experiment. I select an activity or set of activities that will help me focus on the real meaning of Christmas. Even as I attempt to channel all my thoughts toward this purpose, it's still easy to get caught up in ancillary activities and thoughts. This year I feel an especial desire to drown out the noisy materialism and welcome in the hush and peace of Christ. I don't want Christmas to be a misnomer. I wonder how we've gotten to the point where Christmas meaning is enshrined in the tune, "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas."
It's already the 2 of December, and I've had a hard time committing to one experiment. I wonder what other people have done to help them focus on Christ during this season (that's not just a musing - please tell!). For now, I have settled on my "true meaning" but would love to supplement it with ideas that others have. This year, I would like to more fully comprehend and appreciate the roles that Christ plays in my salvation and daily life. It's too easy to forget how fundamental Christ is in our lives, how He lives in every facet and impacts every action. I plan to study one of Jesus Christ's titles every day this month and then ponder on how that role impacts my life. I hope that this will help me to feel His presence and import in my life.

Fiction and not-so-fictitious living

2008-11-21T23:23:00.002-05:00

Frequently, I wish I were a character in a book. I wish that as I turned corners in my life, I could bump into my narrator telling my story. How would she depict my life? What seemingly insignificant details would she pull out of my life, choosing to weave beauty from the mundane? How would she describe my manner, and how would she support her case? What do I look like, what are my flaws? How would my relationships with others be portrayed?
Perhaps I crave this description because I love to analyze myself, others, and the way I fit in my world. I would love to hear another, more omniscient, creator figure describe me as she sees me - to show me how I fit into the greater plot, to display the repurcussions of actions, to show me who I am. Maybe I would like to "see as [I] am seen." Does anybody else ever want this, or am I a total book nerd?

Les Miserables

2008-11-12T17:11:00.004-05:00

As I was listening to some music from Les Mis this week, I began to think about sin, Satan's tactics, our reactions, and the Atonement. In Les Miserables, Valjean commits the sin of stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving nephew. His 19 years in prison do not suffice for retribution; like Cain, he bears the mark of his ill deed for all to see. He is forever a slave to this sin; people won't forget; people won't forgive, even though this misdeed did not directly impact their lives. His sin is continuously displayed, reminding him that he will always be a slave to his past mistakes.
Some people struggle with more obvious sins, and others - for whatever reason - are forced to wear their sins on their sleeves. When this is the case, no matter the size or quality of the sin, we tend to be more judgmental, less forgiving. As the villagers in Les Mis we seem to sing "You broke the law, it's there for people to see. Why should you get the same as honest men like me?", obliterating the memory of our own sins and replacing it with disdain for another's. We play God, taking it upon ourselves to judge and dole out terms of payment. In this manner, we slam the breaks on another's progression, forever detaining him in his sinful stage. We mute the possibility of change, place the label, and box him into a role of sinner.
Valjean's hope for freedom and a new life is quickly replaced with the reality of man's reaction to his sins. Valjean cries, "Now every door is closed to me. Another jail. Another key. Another chain... And now I know how freedom feels, the jailer always at your heels. It is the law!" The irony in the last line frequently makes me feel a bit guilty. The law should be there to make us free, not the opposite. It should enable us, provide us with new freedoms; but too often, because of our own insecurities and guilt, we cause the law to be restrictive and overactive. We hold past offenses over past offender's heads, as if to dare them to try and succeed with the Scarlet A we have branded them with.
After all this rejection, the bishop, instead of condemning Valjean for his ripe sin, provides Valjean with freedom, with a reason to hope and live. He enables Valjean a rebirth, to become the man that the bishop sees he can be. Through the bishop's gift, Valjean's previous sins are forgotten and he is allowed to move beyond his past mistakes. In this act of true selflessness, the bishop essentially pays for Valjean's sins with his silver - something that Valjean did not deserve and could never pay for. He abates those calling for justice and provides mercy to one sorely needing it. This gift is the true gift of freedom - freedom because the sin is no longer remembered, and freedom because it is given to start anew, disentangled from the past and its mistakes. Freedom from ourselves, freedom from other's judgments, and freedom from Satan's grasp.

Red, yellow and orange

2008-11-06T23:07:00.002-05:00

All elements conspired this morning to paint a fall masterpiece before my eyes. In an incident that I would not normally deem happy, a truck let fly all of the glorious papers that were supposed to be kept under wraps in its bed. Drawing from a palette of warm pumpkin, burnt orange, mustard yellow and apple red, these small, square papers danced through the air as cars stirred and wind spurred them on. I felt cozily blanketed as vibrantly colored papers fell around my car. As the papers flitted about, my eyes caught the reflection of these colors in the trees surrounding me. What resulted was a dancing sea of autumn, and I could hardly keep my eyes on the road. I don't know if it's normal to get so excited about colors, but I felt an acute awakening at such a poignant display of color and motion.

Heartstrings

2008-11-02T08:30:00.002-05:00

What are heartstrings really? And when something tugs at our heartstrings, where exactly is it tugging? I can never seem to find this elusive anatomical part.

Manifesting

2008-10-23T23:21:00.006-04:00

"Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents; but that the works of God should be made manifest in him." That the works of God should be made manifest in him. Typically, I have interpreted this scripture in what I still maintain to be a correct, but now consider an incomplete manner. I have always looked to the end result - the healing of this man from his blindness. It was facile for me to see how God's works were manifest in healing this man. His healing was a miracle easily attributed to God and His great works. In my subconscious, I suppose I had envisioned this blind man waiting all his life for the works of God to be manifest in him through his healing. The other day, the depth of this scripture hit me. The works of God were to be manifest in this blind man through his blindness, not just in the healing of his blindness. This caused me to think about how my trials allow God to unveil His face through and in me. Perhaps there are things that I desire and have not yet received; perhaps there are issues that I'm grappling with; or perhaps there are unanticipated losses. These very losses, struggles, or withholdings can actually be the means by which God reveals His works to me and others. It could be that because I am lacking in one area, I pursue another path that allows God to use my talents and bless lives. It could be that my attitude through trials manifests God's love and understanding. Whatever the mechanics, the trials we are given are divinely tailored to us not only so that we can endure them, but also so that our capacities and abilities are enhanced. In doing so, God's works are manifest in us.

Trials don't necessarily come as a punishment, or because we have sinned. More often they are there to refine us so that we receive God's image in our countenances. We quite literally glorify God as we pass through trials with faith because God is manifest in us through the trials. "If any man suffer as a Christian... let him glorify God on this behalf."

Bad advertising

2008-10-19T23:02:00.005-04:00

I walk by this deli every day on my way to work. And every day I chuckle to myself, because I really just don't see how this advertisement helps to bring in customers. I can think of a whole slew of things they could advertise to entice customers and get them salivating... but corned beef? First of all, corned beef isn't something that most people dream about. Secondly, ANY type of meat that would melt in my mouth makes me extremely suspicious. I don't want anything that is supposed to be chewed to dissolve in my mouth, just like that. Lastly, (and this is for Claire) I have absolutely no idea why it is necessary to put "corned beef that melts in your mouth!" in quotation marks. Any editor or English major for that matter would refuse to eat there simply based on principle.

Time

2008-10-08T18:06:00.004-04:00

Continuations on a theme - the theme of simplicity. It has been said that life is a zero sum game. We cannot give or take from life. It is what it is. No matter how much we may desire it, we cannot add minutes to the day. What is spent on one activity - mindless, fulfilling, or otherwise - is forever spent. We cannot regain used time. Nor can we, in our futile efforts, cause time to stand still. In D&C William McClellin was admonished, "Seek not to be cumbered." The same was Martha's subtle offense, as she was "cumbered about much serving." Often when we are rushing around, busy being cumbered, we miss the whole point. We miss the beauty that is to be had in even the most mundane actions. We bustle along, forgetting that joy is to exist in the process and journey.

Barbara Kingsolver said: "Every minute I save will get used on something else... On the other hand, attending to the task in front of me - even a quotidian chore - might make it into part of a good day, rather than just a rock in the road to someplace else." She tells a story of a farmer who decides to use draft animals instead of tractors to turn his fields. When countered with the idea that turning a field with horses takes an eternity, he replies that it indeed does. "Eternal is the right frame of mind. When I'm out there cultivating the corn with a good team in the quiet of the afternoon, watching the birds in the hedgerows, oh my goodness. I could just keep going all day. Kids from the city come out here and ask, 'What do you do for fun around here?' I tell them, 'I cultivate.'"

Running around, trying to "use our time efficiently" often times burns us out, so that we are more inclined to spend those extra minutes saved on vapid activities. If we could learn how to capture that eternal mindset, no matter what we were doing, we would feel more joyful, more fulfilled, and more connected as cognitive beings. I'm not necessarily referring to finding happiness in every moment. I think that joy has to do with acute self-awareness and connection on a spiritual level. As we focus on the moment, we begin to feel alive and aware of our own presence. Then we can glory in that life that we feel - we, as living, deliberate actors - choosing to live and act.

Yearning for simplicity

2008-09-30T20:42:00.003-04:00

Sometimes my yearnings tap me politely on the shoulder and I turn to look them straight in the eye. On other occasions, they loom before me, rending moot my choice of whether to look. And - this last option being the least desirable in my mind - sometimes they sneak in the back door, lurking until I stumble upon them, half-frightened, half-amused. Recently my yearnings have been of the latter, sneaky type. My yearnings have surprised me - in their content, their frequency, and their intensity. So intense I ache, so frequent I drown in emotion.
I have always loved the city - its vibrancy, diversity, architecture, and people. I love being surrounded by people and activities because I derive energy from them. But lately (and I believe this yearning has been sneaking up for a good many years), I yearn for a quiet life where I form a connection to the land I live on, and participate in a close-knit community. I long for simpler times where days were spent in physical labor. A time with no ipods, facebook, cell phones, email, or blogs. A time where people sat and really communicated with one another. A time where people did things slowly and enjoyed the process in addition to the end product. A time when people knew where their food came from and felt their souls' connection to God's creations. A time when people were still and did not seek out endless distractions.
If my yearnings had free reign right now, I would pack up and move to a farm, grow my own food, write snail mail, rock on my front porch, sit and talk with a few dear neighbors and friends, and sew my own clothing. Some may say this is turning my back on the inventions and creations that are meant to improve life and make it easier. But I say that in many senses, these very things have caused me to move beyond what is spiritually good for my soul. Cell phones, facebook, email, and blogs are supposed to help us stay connected with one another. But I feel disconnected. My spirit is splintered into competing factions, creating spiritual disharmony. I feel chaotic because of the many things I have to do to keep up. I feel like life continues to get busier and busier in an interminable spiral. I have no time for stillness. I intensely desire to step back and denounce it all. But I don't think that's the answer. I need to focus on simplifying life, cutting a deal with opposing factions. I believe it's important to discover how to live in an increasingly (and unnecessarily) busy life. That is my challenge and, I think, our generation's challenge.

Claire Koltko: Culinary Creator of the Century

2008-09-22T23:10:00.014-04:00

Is there such a thing as a cake-maker hall of fame? If so, we're putting Claire Ellen Koltko down for first place. Claire knows how to:
a. throw an amazing birthday party
b. make an amazing birthday cake
c. make you feel amazing on your birthday
d. all of the above

Please see exhibits below for evidence of this amazing cake-making talent that Claire possesses in such abundance. Here's to Claire, our own claim to hall of fame. She's a marvel. She's a wonder.

The way translation should always be

2008-09-16T12:10:00.001-04:00

I just couldn't help myself. I almost died laughing.

Unintended consequences

2008-09-15T22:40:00.001-04:00

As I have moved toward eating more locally grown food, many people have brought up the idea of unintended consequences. In such a globalized world, our actions taken in a local context may quickly expand to affect the most far-flung reaches of this planet. May I pause to remind one and all that no man is an island. Or so they say. I have heard statistics which say that if x amount of people began to buy all their food locally, y amount of people in developing countries will be flat on their faces, having lost their livelihoods to the whims of Starbucks dems. I actually don't doubt these statistics, and they have caused great introspection and consternation. I'm still tring to learn more and figure out which path is best. The following short article helped me to see another side of the issue.

"By purchasing local vegetables instead of South American ones, for example, aren't we hurting farmers in developing countries? If you're picturing Farmer Juan and his family gratefully wiping sweat from their brows when you buy that Ecuadorean banana, picture this instead: the CEO of Dole Inc. in his air-conditioned office in Westlake Village, California. He's worth $1.4 billion; Juan gets about $6 a day. Much money is made in the global reshuffling of food, but the main beneficiaries are processors, brokers, shippers, supermarkets, and oil companies.
Developed nations promote domestic overproduction of commodity crops that are sold on the international market at well below market price, undermining the fragile economies of developing countries. Often this has the effect of driving small farmers into urban areas for jobs, decreasing the agricultural output of a country, and forcing the population to purchase those same commodities from abroad. Those who do stay in farm work are likely to end up not as farm-owners, but as labor on plantations owned by multinationals. They may find themselves working in direct conflict with local subsistence. Thus, when Americans buy soy products from Brazil, for example, we're likely supporting an international company that has burned countless acres of Amazon rainforest to grow soy for export, destroying indigenous populations. Global trade deals negotiated by the World Trade Organization and World Bank allow corporations to shop for food from countries with the poorest environmental, safety, and labor conditions. While passing bargains onto consumers, this pits farmers in one country against those in another, in a downward wage spiral. Product quality is somewhat irrelevant.
Most people no longer believe that buying sneakers made in Asian sweatshops is a kindness to those child laborers. Farming is similar. In every country on earth, the most humane scenario for farmers is likely to be feeding those who live nearby - if international markets would allow them to do it. Food transport has become a bizarre and profitable economic equation that's no longer really about feeding anyone: in our own nation we export 1.1 million tons of potatoes, while we also import 1.4 million tons. If you care about farmers, let the potatoes stay home."
-- Steven L. Hopp

Check out www.viacampesina.org.

When green means green

2008-09-08T23:03:00.002-04:00

Apparently the Japanese are a bit overzealous about conservation, or perhaps the "green" message got lost in translation. All I know is that in the Tokyo zoo's best efforts to go green by conserving water, things turned green. They received the message "use less water" and applied it religiously, forgetting to notice the superfluous amounts of algae spawning in the polar bears' bath. Voila green polar bears. A breed all their own.

Bondage

2008-09-03T20:37:00.005-04:00

Last week I saw the play Resurrection, which - by the way - I highly recommend. In thought-provoking ways, the play opens windows to an African American male slice-of-life. As the week passes, I find my thoughts caught in the revolving door of analysis. My mind has become consumed with slavery and self-imposed slavery, causing me to question whether there is any type of slavery but what we impose upon ourselves.

The play chronicles a brief history of blacks in America. It speaks of the princely backgrounds from which American slaves were stolen. From riches to rags, to spite the common adage. From these heights, Africans descended to the status of slaves and mere property. Emancipation and civil rights freed them from the more obvious and explicit forms of slavery. But slavery and bondage live on in equally despicable manners. African Americans may no longer be slaves to ignorant white men, but they continue to be slaves to addictions of the mind and body: drugs, violence, food, poverty. Each man in the play has his own slavery that he is struggling with, whether it is heroine, HIV, prison, or poor eating habits.

While African American males may be more likely to be imprisoned or suffer from diabetes, the situation is not unlike our own plight (and I speak with the royal we here). We come trailing clouds of glory, yet we subject ourselves to the great enslaver every day. How easily we allow ourselves to forge chains and be led quietly down. We are told that we are "free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil." We are free to "act for [ourselves] and not to be acted upon." Even when we are physically in bondage, we still have the gift to choose. In contrast to physical slavery, bondage of our minds and emotions comes primarily from ourselves and our poor use of agency. Through those acts of choice, we enable ourselves further continual action, ensuring that we are not acted upon. In D&C it says, "Release thyself from bondage," which suggests that we have a responsibility to act deliberately to release ourselves and keep ourselves free from the sins that so easily beset us. In this sense, we can be like Ammon and his people, dedicating all our study to delivering ourselves from bondage. But my question is, at the most fundamental level, if we are using our agency correctly, can we ever be in bondage? I'm not saying one way or the other, it's just something I've been thinking about. Is there any real and ultimate form of slavery besides that which we ourselves cause?

67 =

2008-08-28T15:38:00.003-04:00

Number of Ziploc bags I have amassed in my top desk drawer at work.

Proof of my undying commitment to the mantra "Reduce/Reuse/Recycle." Also proof of my undying commitment to the mantra "Don't do today what you can do tomorrow."

From Oly to Open

2008-08-26T00:00:00.003-04:00

Olympics, shmolympics. Come on, people. Get a move on. No more lingering on those closing ceremonies. Give the Open its dues, please. The US Open, that is. How can you not give heed to this - even if he did lose today?

Oh, hey, Phau...

Possessed

2008-08-21T16:33:00.003-04:00

There are only 2 options. Either I have inherited Kitt from Knight Rider, or my car is possessed by some malevolent spirit. Any way you look at it, my car has a brain of its own, and I sure don't like it. My car problems have been too uncanny to believe otherwise. Ever since I bought my car, I've had the exact same problem, on the exact same occasion every year. And it happens to be annoying that my car's spirit flares up at exactly this occasion every year, because it causes lots of hassle in my life.

This occasion I speak of is safety and emissions time. It's no pleasant time for anybody, but my car has an especially dark sense of humor. Without fail, every year, as I drive to the inspection station, my check engine light comes on. Every year. Now everybody knows that your car will automatically fail with that light on, but I've become defiant and try it anyway. When I get there, they of course tell me that it will fail, and reset the battery. You have to drive 50 miles after resetting the battery before they can test your car. All seems to go well until, inevitably, as the odometer rolls from 49 to 50, the light turns on again. As you might guess, it usually takes me months to finesse my car into cooperating with me. This year I sure was praying that it wouldn't happen. But, in a last-minute tussle, Kitt regained his senses and flipped on the check engine light as I drove to get my car inspected. It is quite disconcerting, and I am not exaggerating. If anybody has special talents in casting spirits out of cars, please do let me know.

Strange

2008-08-19T11:27:00.003-04:00

So, I would say that the airport is one place where punctuality is pretty important. My question, then, is: Why such an utter lack of clocks in airports? In all my airport wanderings, I have only spied a few rare clocks. I just think it's strange, that's all.

It's getting religious in here

2008-07-29T13:06:00.005-04:00

The relationship between God and gasoline has - from the looks of things - grown quite strong. I don't know if it's the alliteration that people like, or if there is some deeper reason. The owner of the gas station down the street from my house was apparently in quite a pickle over whether he should become a preacher or start up a gas station. In the end, I suppose, he decided that he need not choose one or the other. Quite naturally, the two suit one another. And so we Silver Spring-ites are the benefactors of an outdoor chapel that happens to sell gasoline. While pumping, you can enjoy spiritual quotes on the marquee, Jesus fish on the pumps, and good old gospel tunes.

In other news, some people are taking this relationship to a new level. They have created a religious movement called Pray at the Pump. Skeptical that Congress has any power to change the gas situation, they are appealing to the authority when they pump. Now that prices have dropped a little, they will be holding praise services. And, of course, they won't neglect to pray for further price drops.

Skill vs. determination

2008-07-22T22:11:00.003-04:00

George Washington has always been somebody I admire. As I read 1776, my admiration for him grew - not because he became a sort of superhuman, legendary figure. Precisely the opposite. 1776 helped me to discover the real Washington - his flaws, his talents, his luck. Seeing Washington as a real, comprehensible person inspired me to work harder for things I am passionate about. I often feel as though my personal actions are futile, or that because I'm just one person, my miniscule acts pale in the grand realm of collective action. Washington's life, however, helps me to realize what great things one person - one dedicated, determined person - can accomplish. Hard work and single-mindedness often even compensate for lack of skill or talent.
"[Washington] was not a brilliant strategist or tactician, not a gifted orator, not an intellectual. At several crucial moments he had shown marked indecisiveness. He had made serious mistakes in judgment. But experience had been his great teacher from boyhood, and in this his greatest test, he learned steadily from experience. Above all, Washington never forgot what was at stake and he never gave up.
"Again and again, in letters to Congress and to his officers, and in his general orders, he had called for perseverance - for 'perseverance and spirit,' for 'patience and perseverance,' for 'unremitting courage and perseverance.' Without Washington's leadership and unrelenting perseverance, the revolution almost certainly would have failed."

Perseverance, determination, in the most hopeless of circumstances. An indomitable spirit, a refusal to give up. These are the attributes that truly make things happen.

Wide open spaces

2008-07-17T19:24:00.009-04:00

Lest you think that I have abandoned my blog for some petty purpose, I am including some pictures of the Wild West, which (as luck would have it) precluded my ability to post anything. I am also posting these pictures in case any of us in DC have momentarily forgotten that such places and animals still exist.
*Also, it seems that I have acquired a baby. No explanation.

Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, and Landlords are from...

2008-06-30T22:22:00.002-04:00

I don't know if anybody has had as charming experiences with landlords as I have. But, if I were completing the Mad Lib, "Landlords are from [place]," I would have no choice but to write "a psychiatric ward." My landlord experiences have run the gamut from legitimately insane on one end to extremely quirky on the other. I think we would all be hard pressed to come up with any examples of "normal" landlords. I'm just quite convinced that they don't exist. I think that terms of release from a mental institution must include buying a home for the purpose of renting it out.

Just tonight I received an email from a lady who I had emailed almost precisely 2 years ago. I had inquired about a condo for rent in Provo. Now, 3 houses, 3 cities and 2 years later, she capriciously decides to return my email: "Hi, the condo is available so give me a call." Hey, thanks, but I think that people usually need a bit more prompt of a response when it comes to finding housing. Most of us don't look for housing years in advance. But, it's a nice thought...

Brain time share

2008-06-23T22:30:00.002-04:00

My brain: a war zone. Multiple parties vying for attention. Mostly petty fighting. Enter stage right - two megaglomerates, who start developing the territory with no thoughts of subprime mortgage. Like drug lords, they crush the competition. The real warfare begins. Who will win (I ask)? But you may ask, who is fighting?
These developers have reached a deal: 60% of brain property devoted to work-related thoughts; 40% of brain property devoted to food. Isn't 40% a bit high, one may wonder? Fair enough, I say. But if you question the 40%, you apparently have no inkling as to how stressful my food situation is. Being part of a CSA is wondrous, but it introduces new challenges into life. Most of my spare moments (when I'm not working) are focused on what ever I shall do with all that kohlrabi kale swiss chard beets turnips scallions mint spinach bok choy cilantro cress. And not just what to do with it, but how to use it all before it goes bad. And how I can use my best persuasion skills to get my roommates to eat any of it. How can I possibly combine all those into one meal, plus that rotting banana in the corner? I tell you, I am surprised that the food constituency compromised at 40%.
So, if anybody would like me to be able to think about anything besides work and food, well, help a sister out. The following are ways you can help:

Coach me so that I don't feel so utterly stressed out when I waste even an ounce of food
Give me creative ideas for combining a whole lot of food that I've never cooked before
Send me recipes
Eat my food. Yes, please, eat my food.

Waste

2008-06-13T14:20:00.002-04:00

Dear public buildings:

I have a question that has long befuddled me: Why, why, why do public buildings insist on setting their thermostats so low during the summer? I came into work today and noticed that the temperature was set at 65 degrees. Of course, the thermostat is locked, so nobody can remedy the situation. More than being upset at the fact that I'm wearing a sweater and a shawl at my office when it's 90 degrees outside, I'm mostly just puzzled. Businesses are bottom line seekers, and NGOs are always trying to save a buck. So, if for no other reason, buildings should keep the temperature up just to save a little cash. Don't worry, I won't launch into a diatribe on its negative effects on the environment, but seriously... Do you know how much CO2 you're emitting unnecessarily? (I'll give you a hint: it's almost 1oo million metric tons per year.) Why haven't public buildings jumped on the green wagon with the rest of society?

I urge you to address this issue with as much haste as possible. Remember, people are freezing in their offices, money is being wasted, and the environment is going to pot. Thank you for your kindly consideration.

Heather Sanders

Measurements of joy

2008-06-08T23:17:00.003-04:00

An axiom to live by: Joy is directly proportional to the amount of dirt found under your fingernails. All right, it's not proven, but it's self-evident.
I love getting dirty, and I love manual labor. Perhaps that is why I find such joy in gardening. And perhaps that is why I feel that yesterday was a day well spent. Tiffani, Tyler and I spent the morning getting wood and other supplies for our square foot gardens. Ignoring the 100 degree/95% humidity weather, we slaved away - with sweat dripping down our faces - to make our boxes and grids. We sorely underestimated the amount of soil we would need, so we made repeated trips to the local nursery. But, we finally got our compost, peat moss, vermiculite and pearlite all set, and we were able to plant 16 square feet of vegetables. (Can you imagine anything more fantastic?) We've got tomatoes, squash, zucchini, bell peppers, carrots, lettuce, and cucumbers. I can't wait to harvest. But, until then, I'm content just looking at the garden. I catch myself gazing out my bay window at the beautiful garden. And, I - like a toddler needing confirmation - drag every visitor out back to experience the magnificence of the square foot garden. I might need to be more careful about who I drag out there, lest the word get around and people stop visiting us.
I highly recommend everybody start a square foot garden, especially if you get anywhere near the same sort of satisfaction I do out of being outdoors and getting your hands dirty. Here are some of the perks:

Requires less water than an average garden
Requires less weeding
Reduces seed waste
It's pesticide/herbicide free
Easy to do with limited space - you can even make them on a patio or deck
Maximizes space (better than planting in rows)

May the fingernail dirt gods be with you in your ventures. Namaste.

I'm in love

2008-05-21T09:20:00.005-04:00

My first hint that I would fall irreparably in love came my first day in my neighborhood. I was driving, trying to maneuver my way around the craziness that is metro DC, and I stumbled upon the impetus for this feeling inside (that I can't hide): The Baptist Church marquee. At that point I knew I could do nothing but fall in love with where I live. The marquee had the following written in glorious bold-face: "God is like Coca Cola. He's the real thing." Over the months, our corner church has provided many opportunities for my love to deepen. Here is the most recent:

Notify your face, man.

Why I can never own an ipod

2008-05-18T20:31:00.004-04:00

I have felt this way for a while, but it was confirmed to me at work on Friday. I don't know if anybody else has this problem, but I simply cannot listen to music without singing along. It's a sickness. This is why it would be unconscionable for me to own an ipod. I'm certain that it takes enough of a toll on those around me when I sing along to a cd or the radio. But, if people had to listen to me sing along to an unheard melody, well... I think I just might lose friends pretty quickly. On Friday, I was in my office listening to an excellent Mana song (with headphones placed just so over my ears). Without thinking, I began to sing along, of course being unaware of my volume since I had headphones on. I was alerted to my embarrassing situation when a passerby poked his head into my office and gave me a strange look. "Yes, I'm singing in Spanish while I sit alone in my office - move along." To my dismay, an ipod is not in the stars for me. An ipod would multiply these embarrassing situations exponentially. I just can't bear the thought of that.

FaceBook In Reality

2008-05-14T10:16:00.001-04:00

Hilarious and hauntingly accurate. Need I say more?

Proverbial Pangea

2008-05-11T00:12:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I participated in Pangea Day, which was fabulous. Pangea Day (as one might imagine with such a title) seeks to bring people all over the world together: to allow humanity to supersede borders, religion, race, and politics. This idea of uniting with people of all backgrounds - people whom I have never and probably will never meet - is a powerful one. It suggests that, despite superficial and substantive differences, humanity possesses deeply rooted similarities which bind us together. Robert Kurzban explains that as human beings, "we have the capacity and tendency to separate 'us' from 'them'. Once established, we're more tolerant to those we call 'us' and more brutal toward 'them.'" I have seen this mentality in action many times in my life. We easily identify ourselves with a set of people based on the color of our skin, religion, monetary status, gender, vocation, or political bent. We begin to define ourselves based on those characteristics; people who do not fall within those parameters belong to the "them" category. I saw this dramatically displayed in the DR. There was a strong "us" "them" sentiment between Dominicans and Haitians. As an outsider, it was almost laughable - except for the tragedy - to see how the Dominicans separated themselves from the Haitians because the Haitians were black. I have been thinking specifically about the divisions based on skin color as of late because I just finished reading Black Like Me. John Griffin changes his skin color from white to black to white throughout the book. As a black man, he describes the hate stares he receives from white people that are based solely on his color. He details the woes of being unable to convince white people to give him a job despite his high qualifications. In contrast, he feels an immediate sense of camaraderie with black strangers. He talks about the look blacks exchange with one another, a look that tells all - the suffering, the understanding, the willingness to help one another. When he goes back to being white, he notices the immediate change in the way people treat him. Suddenly a policeman nodds affably; he takes a "seat beside a white man at the counter and the waitress smiles at [him]. It was a miracle. [He] orders food and is served. It was a miracle." However, just as immediately, he loses his solidarity with black people. Black men speak to him obsequiously, and will not carry on conversations with him. He finds himself"back on the other side of the wall. There was no longer communication between [them], no longer the glance that said everything."
This division, this deliberate separation from other humans, fascinates me. We are human, and as such, experience the same emotions: love, hate, fear, hope, sadness, despair, joy. We pass through the majority of the same experiences. So, why is it, then, that we are so predisposed to associate ourselves with an identity that deliberately excludes another? Robert Kurzban gave me hope when he explained the research he has been doing. He talks about how, while we still have a tendency to join ourselves to a group, our definitions of us and them are not impervious. They are constantly changing to include other people, to form larger groups. "Increasingly, science shows there's no limit to who we define as us. Eventually, someday, there might not be any more 'thems'." I think that we all feel a sense of connection to humanity and that we possess capacity beyond our understanding to accept, love, and unite. We just need to exercise that capacity more frequently.

Suspicious

2008-05-04T15:48:00.003-04:00

My recent activities have aroused many suspicions and raised not a few eyebrows. Rightly so. Like any good bank or credit card company, some devoted friends have begun to investigate this suspicious activity. Please, friends: ease your minds. I have not been held at gun point, nor have I delivered up my integrity. I have not experienced any form of conversion, nor have I "seen the light." And, finally, I have not given in to your seemingly interminable pleas and mockeries. I have been a simple victim of Facebook scandal. I suddenly feel a sense of solidarity with Moroccan Prince Moulay Rachid; however, sadly, I lack the importance necessary to get my perpetrator thrown into jail.
Barring the possibility of jail, I suppose I will cede to you Austin Baird's punishment for the commission of this heinous crime. Do as you will.

30 Days for a million voices

2008-05-01T12:42:00.002-04:00

Raise your hand if you've ever heard of Burma. Raise your other hand if you know what's been going on there for the last few, oh... decades. Raise your leg if you've ever done anything to support human rights in Burma. Well, now's your chance to join with the U.S. Campaign for Burma to raise a million voices in support of Burma in 30 days. Each day in May there will be a different celebrity video promoting this, so check them out.
Day 1:

Who d'ya think I am?

2008-04-24T09:18:00.001-04:00

So, I am an administrator for an online community where we do loads of e-forums and discussions. I send an email to people once I have approved their account, and sometimes I get back some wacked-out emails. Here is the treat of the week:

"Thank you for approval given to my account, Please kindly send one laptop computer for me. l want to participate in this programme efficiently and effectively,
l will be glad for your due consideration.
My postal address is as follow...
Thank you."

Right... I'll just kindly send you one right out. No problem whatsoever. Little does this person realize that I am just a lowly worker who doesn't even get her own laptop. But, I wish this person the best of luck convincing an NGO to give away laptops. That'll be the day.

Humanity

2008-04-21T20:09:00.002-04:00

I read a line the other day in Black Like Me that encapsulates the resident feeling we often harbor toward our fellow men: "How can you render the duties of justice to men when you're afraid they will be so unaware of justice they may destroy you?" That very reasoning lurks behind much of our regret and guilt. How often have we wanted to pull over and help that person stranded on the side of the road, but stopped short because we were afraid of what might happen if we did so? That "helpless" person, after all, could be a mass-murderer or a rapist, someone who will take advantage of our kindness. And so we deny kindness. And so we deny justice. We fear to provide that which is just because we fear. We fear that others do not have the same sense of justice, living by a divergent set of morals and beliefs. And so they cannot be trusted to do what in our minds is truly just. They cannot be trusted to live by our standard of the golden rule. And so we deny justice. Sadly, perhaps; regretfully, perhaps; but the truth remains. Is there, perhaps some bifurcation going on here? Is it truly either-or, or are there more options to be had? I am simply wondering, because I too face this dilemma. I have many times shoved aside my feelings of justice, allowing fear to fill that vacancy. And, I believe that it is a valid fear, a fear that is daily validated by the media and others' actions. However, I have begun to doubt that there are only 2 reactions to these situations. But I don't know where to go with what I think may be a false dilemma.

Riots on the streets of Addis

2008-04-16T23:09:00.006-04:00

"The rapidly escalating global food crisis has reached emergency proportions and threatens to wipe out seven years of progress in the fight against global poverty."
-- Ban Ki-moon, UN secretary general

Riots in Haiti, Egypt, Cameroon, Ivory Coast, Mauritania, Ethiopia, Uzbekistan, Yemen, the Philippines, Thailand, Indonesia and Italy. All over rising food prices. Want the stats from the WB and the UN?

Wheat prices: risen 130% since last March
Soy prices: risen 87% since last March
Overall food prices: risen 83% in the last 3 years
Food represents 60-80% of consumer spending in developing countries
In just 3 years the price of staples (wheat, corn, rice) has almost doubled

Why this dramatic rise? Reports are citing increased population, biofuel demand, bad weather, high oil and transport costs that companies pass along to consumers, and newly "rich" countries' demand for meat and dairy products.

To reduce dependence on fossil fuels and to keep corn prices artificially high for farmers, the US has pushed the use of biofuels. Using corn for fuel, however, is fueling food shortages - especially in the developing world.

With Earth Day approaching, it is quite a propos to think of how we can better take care of the environment. However, how can we reconcile these somewhat opposing needs: to provide food for all, especially the poor, and to take care of the environment?

Lose your city eyes and act accordingly

2008-04-15T11:41:00.006-04:00

"When you have city eyes you cannot see the invisible people, the men with elephantitis of the balls and the beggars in boxcars don't impinge on you, and the concrete sections of future drainpipes don't look like dormitories. My mother lost her city eyes and the newness of what she was seeing made her flush, newness like a hailstorm pricking her cheeks. Look, those beautiful children have black teeth! Would you believe... girl children bearing their nipples! How terrible, truly! And, Allah-tobah, heaven forfend, sweeper women with - no! - how dreadful! - collapsed spines, and bunches of twigs, and no caste marks; untouchables, sweet Allah! ... and cripples everywhere, mutilated by loving parents to ensure them of a lifelong income from begging ... yes, beggars in boxcars, grown men with babies' legs, in crates on wheels, made out of discarded roller-skates and old mango boxes ... Children tugging at the pallu of her sari, heads everywhere staring at my mother, who thinks, It's like being surrounded by some terrible monster, a creature with heads and heads and heads; but she corrects herself, no, of course not a monster, these poor poor people - what then? A power of some sort, a force which does not know its strength, which has perhaps decayed into impotence through never having been used. No, these are not decayed people, despite everything."

-- Salman Rushdie, Midnight's Children

Splashing in the rain

2008-04-12T13:28:00.012-04:00

Some may have abandoned the pastime of splashing in the rain when they were 3 years old. But for others, the magic still remains powerful, and they succumb to the puddles' calls. I would belong to the latter group. I really don't know what else there is to do with rain.

Hyper-critical

2008-04-07T21:33:00.003-04:00

Scandal has rocked the public health world. Or so many would believe. Last week, events unfolded that are still oozing shock waves to the media, the blogosphere, and public health agencies. For a brief background, Johns Hopkins Center for Communication Programs (CCP) is, as one might imagine, part of Hopkins, but it is funded by USAID. CCP administers PopLine, the world's largest database on reproductive health. Here's the media's latest spin: recently, PopLine administrators removed the search term "abortion," essentially rendering all abortion-focused articles invisible to the public. That's where most media and bloggers stop.

Enter outrage, shock, and criticism. How could Hopkins, a world-premier research organization, allow such censorship? How could they cut people off from evidence-based information, information that is supposed to be free? People waged a textual war, yelling such things as: "it's absurd to restrict searches using a perfectly good noun such as abortion!" "Insidious and convoluted." "I hope somebody at Hopkins is looking for work next week." "Whoever did this should pay dearly." Hate mail began to stream in.

This episode is, to me, simply a symptom of a broader malady. I am repeatedly dismayed at our cultural readiness to criticize, find fault, and jump to conclusions. Is it that we truly lack the time to seek out a more complete and truthful view of a situation? Could it be that our inclination to rage has been weighted? Do we have shorter fuses than we used to? Are we all becoming cynics? I have noticed this increasing tendency to criticize - especially our leaders, but in a true sense, all people around us. It troubles me. Perhaps we have removed ourselves so far from the situation that we lose all context for decisions. Choices are rarely - if ever - made in a vacuum, and we seldom know the issues surrounding the decisions. It is even less likely that we will have a complete understanding of context - a holistic view of the situation - when it is first presented to us. Yet, so many of us constantly react to the first hearing. We join the rampage, and once adjoined, whether from fear or pride, it is difficult to retreat and look at the situation objectively. We seem to feel that once we have pledged our "support" in one direction, we cannot do what is necessary - to carefully examine each side of the issue. It is also vital to take into consideration the human aspect of decision-making, and remember, remember, that we too are human. I believe we forget that we are of the same nature as those making these "outrageous" decisions. Would we have made the same choice if placed in the same situation? I don't necessarily want to take this to the "cast the first stone" level; however, I find that it is rare that we are level-headed and realistic when we cast our first judgment. We react without full, or even partial information. From that point, we continue on adrenaline and emotions, inhibiting factual ability to penetrate our clouded minds.

To come back to the story at hand, CCP is funded by USAID, which means that certain restrictions are placed upon it. Abortion cannot be advocated or officially spoken of given the current administration. Whatever our personal views on the issue, I would venture to say that we need to seek more understanding of this multi-faceted issue by drawing ourselves back from the minutia of one facet. Then, we can begin to make decisions unadulterated by sheer emotion, and start to act - not react.

Glow, fat heads, and NYC

2008-03-30T22:45:00.008-04:00

There is this little Italian trattoria by my work that I am obsessed with. I dream of the fresca sandwich nightly. So, when my sister, Lauren, flew into town, I decided to take her there. The owner found out that we were Mormon (as they always do somehow). He immediately juxtaposed these three sentences, "I love Mormons! They have such great complexions. They're like a super race." He quite obviously was referring to the Mormon "glow," but being ignorant of semantics, chose to call it complexion.

All aglow, Lauren and I headed off to NYC (which has been Lauren's dream for oh, about all 17 years of her life). She died in SLC and arose in the fashion heaven of NYC. I think her highlight was H&M shopping, but she claims it was Central Park.

On Saturday, we went to the kite flying festival on the Mall. My roommate, Claire, poured her whole soul into creating a phenomenal tetrahedral four-cell kite, including hand sewing and collapsable joints. Tragedy struck, however, when she was trying to get the kite in the air. As she was running, the kite began to catch air and rose precisely to children's head-level. As it so happened, a fat-headed child stood aimlessly near the Washington Monument and managed to get his noggin stuck inside the kite, unbeknownst to Claire, who continued to run despite the slight drag she experienced. Continual tugging on Claire's part caused the fat-headed child to fall, breaking the kite in several places. We had the likes of the President of the Kite Association come to play kite-doctor, but to no avail. The kite would not fly. This is why we a. should not let small children out of the house, and b. need to urgently address the obesity epidemic in this country. Claire's spirits did seem a bit cheered when she saw the huge Mao kite in the air. But, then again, whose spirits aren't lifted with a little Mao?

Easter

2008-03-24T22:08:00.005-04:00

I fully realize that Easter was yesterday; however, I do so hope that you will indulge me a Pascal post in the spirit of Easter. Now, what Easter would be complete without a little egg dying and some Pirates of the Caribbean egg stickers?

Also, on Saturday we went to the Easter Vigil at the National Cathedral. It was a great service. The cathedral was completely dark in representation of the tomb and the darkness associated with Christ's death. The darkness was almost palpable and I felt a sense of sadness mingled with hopelessness, which I believe the darkness is wont to invoke. Upon entering, we each received a candle. At the beginning of the service, the priests and other leaders entered carrying torches and lighted candles. It was poignant to witness that symbolism of the resurrection - of bringing back the light to the Earth. As the leaders walked up the middle aisle, they would light people's candles. The most beautiful part for me was watching people lighting one another's candles. Each person turned to the next and lighted his/her candle. The dual symbolism really struck me - that of Christ bringing light and hope, coupled with the idea that we are the bearers of that light. We share the light with others and hold the locust of responsibility. It was amazing to watch the light in the cathedral grow brighter and brighter even though we each held only a small candle. It was experiential learning where I saw and felt the light increasing until it filled the whole cathedral. It made my Easter more meaningful and thoughtful.

Another one bites the dust

2008-03-23T21:15:00.004-04:00

I am beginning to believe that my workplace is a microcosm of the greater economy. Let me just start by saying that my organization is up for rebid in June, which means that lots of people are feeling nervous about job security. So, many people are nipping the heartache in the bud by moving on to greener fields. Literally every day I get an email inviting me to join in a happy hour celebration to bid farewell to (mostly) people I've never met. Sometimes the happy hours exceed my personal quota of 1 daily. In light of this, I have adopted "Another one bites the dust" as my work theme song. This week, my boss topped it all off by announcing that he was leaving.

It is as though when one person gets nervous and pulls out, the rest suddenly cannot function. The left-overs have to bear increasing amounts of weight and responsibility. Some cannot handle the pressure and politely beg pardon. Some, seeing others' nervousness, yet not having been nervous themselves, feel that they must - under a sort of obligation or realization - become nervous as well. Thus begins the interminable cycle. How do we stem the fear? How do we keep those left from pulling out even amidst trying circumstances? How can we ensure that uncertainty does not quench our passion?

I am not capable of answering such questions. They are just musings. However, we are now placing bets at my work about who will be next.

2008-03-16T23:45:00.002-04:00

"More than an end to war, we want an end to the beginning of all wars"
-FDR

Death of a salesman

2008-03-16T19:04:00.002-04:00

On Friday night I went to see Death of a Salesman. Each time I read or see the play, something different sticks out to me. This time, I caught myself pondering over what we equate with value in this life. The theme that struck me repeatedly was that nothing has value unless it can be sold. Tangible, measurable commodities - in this stage world - are the only things that hold value. Uncle Ben continually chided Willy for not seeking riches in the jungle, discounting being well-liked and having good children. (Never mind the fact that those were both illusions.) Ben brings up the idea, "now that (money) is something you can hold onto." If you can't heft it, if it isn't palpable, it is not valuable. How ironic that money is the one thing (although tangible) that we cannot hold onto. In the end (in my eyes) Willy cedes to the idea that money and the amassing of things is what gives a man worth. He believes he will be of more value dead than alive, because his life insurance will provide his family with "value" that they were lacking all those years. $20,000, after all, is a whole lot of value. Willy says, "After all the highways, and the trains, and the appointments, and the years, you end up worth more dead than alive." While material worth may have increased with his death, moral worth declined.
These thoughts were coupled with some scriptures I have been thinking about. In 2nd Nephi, it talks of priestcrafts, how churches will "preach up unto themselves their own wisdom and their own learning, that they may get gain and grind upon the face of the poor." "...behold, priestcrafts are that men preach and set themselves up for a light unto the world, that they may get gain and praise of the world; but they seek not the welfare of Zion." Nephi then suggests that the antithesis and solution to these priestcrafts is charity. "Wherefore, the Lord God hath given a commandment that all men should have charity, which charity is love...Wherefore, if they should have charity they would not suffer the laborer in Zion to perish... for if they labor for money they shall perish." I return to my original question: What do we value in this life? It seems that in the process of valuing monetary gain, worldly recognition, and praise, we begin to seek not the welfare of Zion. We become so focused on ourselves, our own "needs" and pursuits that we cease to notice the needs of those around us. We begin to suffer our fellow laborers to perish, and we grind their faces, so to speak. We can choose to value equality and charity, or money and praise. It is, of course, not that black and white. But the beginning steps of valuing one or the other take us down well-trodden, opposing paths. Seeing Death of a Salesman was a positive impetus for me to examine the black, white, and gray areas of my values.

Day 1 - Mark Moves Into IKEA

2008-03-12T18:59:00.009-04:00

Wickedly wicked

2008-03-07T21:31:00.002-05:00

We made the trek to the land of the Cleves to see Nikki's brother in Wicked. It was fabulous - every minute. Great company, great show, great music, great food. What else can you ask for?

Where have all the socks and tupperware tops gone?

2008-03-03T21:54:00.003-05:00

Something simply scandalous has occurred. The socks have run off with the tupperware tops. I can't fathom why the tupperware tops would leave their beloved lower halves for a stinky, holey sock, but they have done it, and it alarming numbers. I'm sure that single socks have their virtues - they can be warm and fuzzy, I suppose. But, I think that tupperware tops and socks are quite ill-matched. I wish they would come back and join their rightful mates.

True confessions

2008-02-28T17:59:00.002-05:00

For whatever reason, I have never any luck with cameras. I've always had this unattainable dream of owning a nice (functioning) camera for more than 6 months. Alas, it is not in the stars for it to be so. A brief history of my most recent cameras ensues. 1. Beautiful 35 mm SLR: my dear friend lost it in the dark recesses of her bedroom... never to be found again. 2. Another brilliant 35 mm SLR: my little brother was playing with it, left it out in theblazing Utah sun, and fried the thing. 3. I bought my first digital camera ever 2 days before I went to Bolivia. First week into it, the hotel boy we had played cards with the night before took off with my camera and never returned to work. 4. Bought a nice digital camera a few months before I went to the DR. Unforunately, sudden torrential downpours are common in the Caribbean, and the water ruined my camera. As you can see, cameras + Heather = bad. The short-lived nature of my cameras, however, has not kept me from yearning for a new one as soon as the old one goes kaput.
My cameralessness is going on 6 months, and every time I look at my empty picture folders on my computer, I feel devastated. A sense of desparateness has crept over me, and in a craze today I thought, "Hmmm, wouldn't it be nice if I could somehow get a free camera?" This is where bells should be going off , because, as you see, it is nearly impossible to get something for nothing. But instead of abandoning this idea, this great desire to own a camera drove me to type "free camera" in the Google search bar. My delusion was in full swing when I came upon a site where you try products out for free and get a Nikon D300 as an incentive. Mind you, Nikon D300s are expensive little cameras, so I was enthused (again, remember I was in a delusional state). I filled out the survey and even agreed to one offer before I realized what I was doing. You know the type - "try this for free, but if you don't cancel and send back the product in 2 days, you will be charged the full $5,000 and will be enrolled in a program that you can never cancel..." For all intents and purposes, I was willingly squandering my privacy, free time, and sanity. I'm glad I caught myself before it was too late. Who knows what might happen next time I'm in this state. Maybe I need to invest in disposable cameras so I don't do something truly crazy.

Our definitions

2008-02-24T21:02:00.002-05:00

Toys will be our downfall

2008-02-22T21:21:00.004-05:00

I don't know if anybody else is as pleased as I when they find hard data to back up their entrenched opinions and beliefs. This morning, I almost had to pull the car over because I was so enthralled with what I was hearing on the radio. Hooray for NPR, as usual. At first glance, many may not peg me as a person who is interested in toys. But I am - in a round about way. I've mostly been interested (or disheartened, rather) in the way that toys - especially electronic toys - can dull our senses and retard our social skills. We live in a culture that is so over-entertained, that practically cannot survive a minute without something to distract and entertain. We seem to crave having things in our hands and before our eyes, discontent to spend a moment in quietude. This world is brimming with cell phones, PSPs, MP3 players, PDAs, Game Boys, computers, and video games. We invent and use these things in pursuit of an enjoyable life.
To me, an enjoyable life is full of people, learning, and freedom to act. I'm not saying that these toys are antithetical to my own pursuit of happiness, but I think they detract from it more often than they add to it. All of these toys distract us from our human interactions, to the point that our social skills suffer. We close ourselves off when we put in our headphones or when we play a personal hand-held game. We have so much alone time with our electronics, which don't demand any real interaction, that we almost forget how to treat people. We choose the easy way out instead of having important conversations with those we love. We text when we could call or stop by, we watch a movie when we could serve somebody, we listen to our iPod when we could be listening to our family members.
Today on the radio, they were talking about when toys were first advertised on TV outside of Christmas. This was the turning point when play became synonymous with toys. Chudacoff said,
"It's interesting to me that when we talk about play today, the first thing that comes to mind are toys, whereas when I would think of play in the 19th century, I would think of activity rather than an object." Back in the days, kids (and adults) used to engage frequently in "freewheeling imaginative play." The reception of toys began a sad trend of the shrinking size of "children's imaginative space." [I don't believe all toys are bad and I am not saying that we should all abandon our toys completely, just so you know...]
The way we (and kids especially) spend our time can change our emotional and cognitive development. When we engage in creative activities - make believe, analytical thinking, etc. - we develop executive function, which includes the ability to self-regulate. Acquisition of this skill translates into the ability to control emotions and behavior, resist impulses, and exert self-control and discipline.
A study was done on the ability of kids to basically control themselves back in the 1940s. 3-year-olds could not sit still for even a minute. 5-year-olds could sit still for about 3 minutes, and the 7-year-olds could sit still for as long as the researchers asked them to. The same study repeated in 2006 showed that 5-year-olds were performing at the 3-year-old levels of 1940s, and the 7-year-olds were performing at the 5-year-old levels of 1940s. This is disturbing to me on a number of levels. First of all, I think there is great value in being still - controlling your emotions and actions. You can receive peace, inspiration, a recharge. On another level, self-regulation and executive function are much stronger predictors of success in school than IQ. Plus, lack of these abilities is highly correlated with drop out, drug use, and crime. Laura Berk said, "Self-regulation predicts effective development in virtually every domain."
I will stop here because I could go on for quite a time about this. But, I think that it is fascinating how much our activities affect us mentally, physically and socially. I wish we all would focus more on the people who are with us when they are with us instead of allowing ourselves to be distracted by the various forms of entertainment.

I have recently discovered...

2008-02-21T20:25:00.002-05:00

I have recently discovered the greatest invention on Earth. Some people may believe that the greatest invention was video games. I am sorry to disappoint you - I'm not talking about video games. However, the invention is technological at least. It is called Jott.com. It is the coolest (and freest, might I mention) service. Basically, you call a number and you can jot things to yourself or other people. So, if you want to remind yourself of something, or email somebody via talking on the phone, or post to your blog like I'm doing now, you just call Jott and it transcribes it for you. You get everything you've said in e-format. You can link Jott to your daily to-do list, twitter, blog, etc. Really the options are endless. It's like having a secretary in my hand. So useful. You guys should all check it out. Your life will be a whole lot easier and people will think you're a whole lot cooler.

Powered by Jott

Dylan speaks

2008-02-17T22:28:00.003-05:00

I wonder, how many weary friends and strangers are fainting at my door while I puruse my own happiness and pleasure? Has my hedonism drowned out their pleas? Have I been distracted, too busy to see? Have I seen my own sorrows instead of another's? Have I looked beyond the mark? Have I traveled far when I needed only to walk out my front door? Have I ever, even once supped sorrow with the poor?

"Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor.
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay.
There are frail forms fainting at the door.
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
There's a pale drooping maiden who foils her life away
With a worn out heart, whose better days are o'er.
Though her voice it would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more.
'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary.
Hard times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered all around my cabin door.
Oh, hard times, come again no more."

-Bob Dylan