Life is Good, But This is Always True.

A Tale of Three Churches

Over the past few months, I've picked up something of a bad habit. Or, maybe it's a good habit. But before I get into that, I would ask that you refer to this article so you can have a bit of context on the matter at hand.

There now. Pretty good stuff, huh? I think it was B-man that posted the article to his facebook page a couple years ago. Like any self-justifying member of a misunderstood minority, I ate that thing up when I read it. And along with Card, I have found myself not a few times since then reflecting longingly on the idea of a mini-Mormon monastery.

But alas, the structure of faithful church membership remains as it is, three hours, once a week in a designated meetinghouse. And I suppose there must be divine wisdom in that. Still, I have discovered an alternative that I allow myself to take, only every now and then, when my student ward becomes too much to handle.


























Family wards. I go to family wards. It started out innocently enough. Oops! By some freak accident I overslept my alarm and missed my ward today, oh well, guess I'll have to go to the family ward instead. After all, it's just right down the street. This evolved into, Geez, my ward meets so early, I'm just gonna catch up on some sleep and hit up the family ward tomorrow instead. This soon became, I only ever go to the family ward because student wards blow. It was a problem.

But you have to understand! First of all, do you know how refreshing family wards are for someone who has only known church in the form of exalted high school for the past five years? It's like stepping out of an artificially-created world into the real deal. To me, family wards represent what real life is like. It's not quite so neatly manicured as a student ward. It's not quite so Stepford Wivesy. And I like that.

Second, do you know how awesome it is for an introvert to be able to sit through all three meetings completely undisturbed? And why is that? Cause no one knows you! Forget the stomach-churning, mind-numbing, soul-deadening chit-chat that is common to halls and foyers, you don't got nobody to talk to! Sure, you might have to endure a few well-meaning souls who want to know if you're new here or visiting, but in the end it's still worth it cause you're never going to see this person again. Off come the chains of social responsibility, you are free! Free to worship as you please, which is privately, in the back row, and only until the last prayer is said, after which you better believe you are outta there quicker than you can say Visiting Teacher. Basically, it's wonderful. The only revitalizing Sundays I ever have anymore are the ones in which I allow myself this indulgence.

Today was one of those days. I woke up, made pancakes, got ready for church, and drove down to the 'ol meetinghouse where I knew a family ward was guaranteed to be meeting. Unfortunately for me, I was barely seated when I happened to make eye contact with my old roommate and her newly-married husband, who are apparently in this ward now. By the time I realized my error, it was too late, and I became obligated to come and sit with them. So much for my hour of private worship.

Unwilling to ride out the rest of the church block with my acquaintances, who would surely feel obligated to invite me to continue on with them to Sunday School, I respectfully bid goodbye to my married friends and headed out in search of another meetinghouse. A short way down the road, I chanced upon the very first ward I ever attended after moving to Utah. I decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately for me, former young women leader who happens to be a psychiatrist who once gave me free counseling is still in that ward, and may have recognized me. I waited out the second hour, but you better believe the closing prayer had me outta there faster than you can say Bad Memories.

The third hour of church finds me parked at one of those fancy new meetinghouses that all look the same. What is wrong with me? I think. Why do I find it so impossibly difficult to attend more than three hours of the same ward, much less my assigned ward? Aw, who cares, I think. All that matters is that I'm attending my meetings and being edified. And then I think, Man, I sure am lucky to be living through this phase in a state where I can find a different ward every quarter-mile. And then I think, Hey, what should I eat when I get home from church? And then I go inside.





And find that no one in that church building currently speaks anything but Mandarin.



You can't say I didn't try.


The last half hour of church finds me at Grant's nursing home. Unfortunately, he is asleep and I am not one to wake people from afternoon naps.


The fourth hour of church finds me at my favorite cemetery overlooking the valley. Hunsaker and Hall are kind enough to let me share their plot while I sort out the complexities of the living world. And it's just nice.


I don't mean to come off as one of those weirdy, God-is-everywhere types. I don't mean to imply that sitting in nature has the same effect as engaging in meaningful study and discussion of gospel principles with people who believe the same thing you do. Obviously the latter activity cannot be replaced, and is important enough that we are asked to participate in it every week. As an introverted Latter-Day Saint, this is something I'm just going to have to learn to reconcile.

But sometimes...






Sometimes, you just gotta monk it up. Putting that on a t-shirt.

Discovery

You know that thing where you go around seeing the world a certain way, and everything is accurate and makes sense and it only rarely occurs to you that maybe things are different than how you perceive them? And then something happens to shake you out of your paradigm and you're all whoa, I've been totally oblivious. And suddenly your world is slightly different. It's a new world. It has sandy beaches and looks like Asia, probably.

For example, the other day I was dutifully applying concealer to the unders of my eyes, when I remembered I had recently heard somewhere that dark circles are caused by delicate blood vessels that break and bleed and pool there under your eyes (yum). I realized then that I had never actually checked to see if my eye skin was dark.

(!!)

And then, the thought came to me that maybe the problem is not that I have delicate eye vessels, but that my eyes actually jut out so much that they cast a shadow. Inspecting further, I found significant support for this theory. But just to be sure, I had Carol perform an exam.


It maybe looked something like this. Except with more emphasis on me pulling my undereye skin out so she could inspect its pallor.



Sure enough, she confirmed my undereye skin to be peachy-fleshy-toned, not blood-pooly-black.


Now, about here you're maybe wondering what difference any of this makes. Don't I still have to apply concealer?


Yes. Yes I do. The point is, my world is expanded. One day I was walking around thinking something was a certain way, and suddenly it wasn't true. And maybe I never would have even made that discovery, if my thoughts hadn't gone that particular route. What if I had gone my whole life thinking I had delicate undereye blood vessels?! Can you imagine how many delusions you're operating under right now, this very minute?





>another Columbus joke to tie in the title of this post<

Everyone: I think I'm dying. Over the last few days I've been getting all these weird symptoms and it makes no sense and I need your medical wisdom! Also I wanted to say goodbye and thanks for all the memories!

Symptoms:
-extremely sore obliques (this could be a side effect of pilates the other day, but there's really no way of knowing)
-random itchy bites ALL OVER (it's possible I have bed bugs)
-right side of jaw is extremely sore (this actually is really weird)
-oppressive fullness feeling/pressure like I just got back from Golden Corral, even though all I've eaten today is a few bites of Cream of Wheat.
-intermittent bouts of being really cold
-there's nail polish ALL over my hands. This may be a result of a failed attempt at marbling (pinterest made it look so easy)



If anyone can decipher these clues, please let me know what you find out. Until then, I will be here...finalizing my will...overseeing some last minute preparation on that Cold Stone raid...

Internship Love

Hey, I made it through my last first week of school! And it wasn't even that struggled! Any first week of school that doesn't end with me crouched in the corner eating my hair is a good first week of school.

Here's what going to be awesome about my last semester: Internships. Yes that's right, multiple internships. I know, I was surprised too. What started out as my semester of chill became, about halfway through the week, my semester of extremely busy/how in the heck am I going to manage this. But the good news is, so far I love it. Do you guys know how much I love old people? I love 'em. Let me tell you why.

1) They are stinkin' cute. Those sweater vests. The corny jokes. The hunched backs, looking so much like wise old tortoises when they scoot down the hall with their walkers...it's too much.

2) They are REAL. I love how the social graces fall away with age, how they're not afraid to say what they're thinking, how they seem to just plain stop caring what other people think. True, sometimes this quality comes at the expense of common civility, but I think it's still worth it.

3) They are hilarious. Check my most recent fb status update for clarification.

4) They emanate wisdom and dignity. Sitting on the bus yesterday as we traversed the winding roads of Heber Valley, a bunch of bobbing white-haired heads all around me and oldies in our ears, I was o'ercome with a feeling of perfect harmony. These people I get to associate with are the survivors. They have lived, loved, struggled, endured, experienced all there is to experience in this life, and you can see it in their faces. And now, having lived through the most dynamic century in the history of the earth, their lives converge on this scenic bus ride. It's the highlight of their day, and most of all, it is enough. The appreciation of simple pleasures. The quiet gratitude for a full and fruitful life. Eyes and hearts pointed heavenward. Isn't the ABA pattern of our lives just beautiful? You know, naked as we came, all that stuff?! I JUST FEEL SO GRATEFUL TO HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP COMPANY WITH THE GREATEST PEOPLE EVER, AAHHH!

So I'm probably still stuck in the enchantment stage and will most likely be ranting in about a month about how nasty and ungrateful old people are*. But for now, love. Just love.

In addition, I will most likely be doing my second internship with the Utah County Crisis Line, so pretty much my internships are as relevant to my interests as they could possibly get. I am just blessed, that's all.






*While there is indeed nothing cuter than a sweet and sincere interaction with an old person, there is also probably nothing scarier than getting yelled at by an old person. Which happens...a lot. It's good for me, though. I've always been too sensitive to criticism.


Edit 9/5/11: So actually old people make me cry. So much so that I have to leave early cause the tears are a-comin' and I'm going to make a scene if I don't run to my car NOW. It's going to be a loooooong semester.

Invincible Summer

Guys, it's over. Summer's over. Having just come to the realization that today is my last chance to nap on the ASB lawn and call it "work", I have naturally been feeling nostalgic. But instead of going out like an ungrateful sluggard, I've decided to release my Vulcan death grip on this particular season and instead outline all the cool things I got to do. You know, for the memories.

Teacher, here's what I did with my summer vacation:

-I put red streaks in my hair.
-I spent two restorative weeks in Sac with the 'rents.
-I spent time with my cute sister's family in Phoenix.
-I read five books (which is about five less than I intended to read, but we're focusing on achievements right now, not regrets)
-I went to a couple town fairs.
-included in one of those town fairs, pie-eating contest.
-I spent time with my elderly friend Grant, and he softened my heart.
-I checked off two more classes.
-I got to take an unexpected and welcome trip to Alabama.
-I started wearing bracelets again.
-I tried out many new food venues in the greater Provo/Orem area.
-I became acquainted with Jillian Michaels for a while, but we're estranged now.
-Ditto with P90.
-I found and utilized the best campus napping spot to date (4th floor Clyde Bldg. women's restroom, that's the ticket!)
-There was a brief streak in which I went to Yogurtland at least twice a week.
-I took full advantage of the FREE.ninety-free Thursday concert series in SLC and saw many way rad bands, including Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, Bright Eyes, Ghostland Observatory, and Lupe Fiasco. I dressed up for every one, according to each respective style of music. Pictures later.
-I think I got vicariously high off of some of those concerts, but there's no way of knowing, really.
-I discovered pinterest, and life has been considerably more colorful and fabulous ever since.
-I went to the Salt Flats for the first time and they were GORGEOUS.
-I interviewed Bee Money for a documentary that I have every intention of making someday.
-I floated the Provo River with Carol and we almost drowned a few times, but we're good now.
-I went late-night dumpster diving for the first (but definitely not the last!) time.
-I said some goodbyes.
-I lost a lot of money, and got it all back again.


So you see, I really had a very wonderful summer. It wasn't all roses, but despite the bad parts, I'm grateful for this time in my life. I know that these are the days I will one day look back on with crinkly eyes and wisdom, and think, "Ah, youth." Summer is the season of the young and carefree, and I'm just grateful I've managed to live it up while I can.

"Years ago I preferred clever people. There was a joy in beholding a mind bearing thoughts quickly translated into words, or ideas expressed in a new way. I find now that my taste has changed. Verbal fireworks often bore me. They seem motivated by self-assertion and self-display. I now prefer another type of person; one who is considerate, understanding of others, careful not to break down another person’s self-respect. My preferred person today is one who is always aware of the needs of others, or their pain and fear and unhappiness, and their search for self-respect. I once liked clever people. Now I like good people."

-Solomon Freehof

So that's one of my favorite quotes. Whenever I get caught up in the vicious cycle of trying to be clever/funny --> not being that clever/funny --> wounded self-esteem cause I'm not that clever/funny --> trying to save flagging self-esteem by trying harder to be clever/funny, I like to fall back on this quote to remember the kind of person I really want to be. I do still enjoy clever people very much, and I think they occupy a special place in the world. But I also believe the world at this point could probably use more good people.

And the best part is, I think it's much easier to be good. It feels more within my reach.