Cam's Thoughts

Imperfection and impatience

2010-08-01T11:27:00.000-07:00

When we are impatient with the imperfections of others, it is because we are impatient with our own imperfections. It makes us afraid to try things in front of others because of the way we view ourselves and thus how we think others will view us; this is also how we view others when they perform imperfectly in front of us. We think "how embarrassing." It is only embarrassing for those who make it so for themselves.

Christmas Onesie Madness

2009-12-24T16:37:00.000-08:00

Mom got my two little sisters and I onesie sleepers (the kind with the footies) for Christmas. So my sisters, my fiancee, and I got some music on and got dancin!
Merry Christmas!!

Godparents

2009-07-05T16:49:00.001-07:00

I love the idea of Godparents and intend on borrowing this practice from Catholicism.

If you want to read a whole article on it, read http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godparent . If not, I'll give you my thoughts here.

The idea of community is one we're losing quickly (to our detriment), so I think that anything that can be done to increase a person's (in this case, a child's) community is a positive thing. The wikipedia article talks about how "the modern view of a godparent tends to be an individual chosen by the parents to take an interest in the child's upbringing and personal development." It says they act as sponsors for the child and guarantors of the child's spiritual upbringing. The article uses fairy tales as a means of relating meaning—essentially, godparents are helpers from outside the family who have a sincere and vested interest and involvement in his/her godchild.

The article also talks about the history of the godparent. Godparents were originally one who stood by a child who was to be baptized. They would act as voice for the child, declaring the child's faith. This person would obviously have to be in good standing with the church to be able to do so. They would also, as mentioned, assure the church they would look out for the child and raise them to be faithful. I realized the name is (probably purposefully so, but when you hear a name so often like "godfather" or "godmother" sometimes you forget to break it down) exactly what it is—that is, a "god"-parent. A person who is in relation to you, somewhat similar to Jesus (obviously on a different scale of magnitude). Think about it. This person acts as voice for a person who has not yet gained trust with the "authority" (God the Father, for the Jesus metaphor), but the voice is one who has walked the path and proved he is in good standing and can thus plead for the other. Because of the voice of this other, the child is given a chance. The advocate also guarantees that he/she will look out for the child, help raise the child in the right ways, and do everything he/she can to help them live with faith. When the title is truly considered, it adds depth to the relationship.

We should all have godparents. Probably, we should all act in this way towards everyone else, but it helps to have a title and be in a special role (social psychology says this helps us act in the way expected of us).

I don't feel the Catholics would mind any of us borrowing from this great practice. Find a godfather or godmother for your kid. Heck, find one for yourself! It will be something I definitely do carefully, really trying to be open to what the Universe tries to tell me about who would be best for my kid. It seems to me that our artists are often demi-prophets—that is, all of their musing seems to put them in touch with truth (For example, George Orwell, 1984); I don't think it's a coincidence that in fairy tales, it's fairy godparents who come to the rescue. Perhaps those stories are trying to teach us something about God. Perhaps those stories are trying to teach us something about the importance of that relationship and that role—that someday, when everything else seems to be going wrong, a person in that role can show up just at the right time and help save the day. Perhaps they're just stories. Either way, I'm in.

PS__(If I've gotten anything about this godparents practice and idea wrong and you know better, please let me know. I certainly have no intent to offend anyone if I am grossly mistaken in any of my facts and opinions.)

The Priesthood--A Call to Serve

2009-06-28T08:53:00.000-07:00

This entry is the text from a speech I delivered at my church a few weeks ago on what Mormons (LDS/the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) call "the Priesthood," which is generally defined as "the power and authority of God, given to man to act in His name on earth." In a world where the distinctive lines between "roles" and "equality" have become blurred, the fact that the Priesthood is only directly bestowed upon men in the Church has frequently come under greater criticsm and outcry. This was my attempt to explain, in my thoughts, why things are the way they are. Non-Mormon readers may struggle with semantics, as the speech was written for a Mormon audience, familiar with sect-specific vocabulary. I am glad to answer any questions, if anyone has any. If the speech is helpful to you, I am glad; if any find it confusion or offensive, I'm always glad to have a discussion.

The Priesthood--A Call to Serve

As God’s crowning creation, it seems hardly congruent to think that He composed her to praise that which was, in comparison to her, but a prelude—or, said another way, for those in the mansion to be subservient to those who dwell in the peasant’s cottage. No, it seems far more likely that God intended it to be the other way around; and that man, in his fear of woman’s inherent greatness and obvious power over his heart, perverted the correct order of things through his physical superiority and by taking advantage of the tender natures and feelings of God’s daughters in a vain effort to place himself in the upper rooms of that great and spacious building that, actually men, the women never even entered! Here men scramble over each other to be nearer the elusive top that, ironically, will be the place of the greatest ignominy when the building suddenly collapses without warning, from the top story down.

This should give us some better idea of what the Priesthood really is all about.

We might think of the Priesthood as the shovel, spade, and other tools of the servant, or to employ modern metaphor, the file, polish, and mask of our Father’s Celestial Day Spa where He has employed us. As noted, things here have become perverse; we have mistaken our file for a sword, our polish for a scepter, and our mask for a crown and have taken over the whole place; how ironic when one considers the amenities are not even to our liking as they were not meant for us! I don’t imagine that when the Lord said that “the woman is the glory of the man” (1 Cor. 11:7), he meant that she should be like a show poodle! But rather, that man, through serving His daughters through the tools given to Him and in the ways prescribed, might enjoy the glow of the glory of the widow’s gratitude for a raked yard or a kind visit, or of the child’s simple expression of love and the title “daddy,” or most importantly, the tender touch and glances of a grateful and properly honored and enthroned spouse.

It seems to me, brothers, that women need comparatively little help on their way to godhood, as they have already been bestowed with the honor to be God’s co-creators and carriers of His most precious possession—His children. When God created woman as “an help meet for [man],” surly we cannot think this was the proclamation of their status or worth! But rather an admission of the imperfection of the other party! He might have said, “Well, my daughters are not in much need of a mortal experience beyond just obtaining the body, but without them, we’ll never get the men back.” It did not require the omniscience of God to observe: “It is not good that…man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18), and brethren, this was in man’s pre-fallen state! What an invitation to improve our natures, men! And it is clear from God’s creative order by what means we have been given to accomplish such a feat!

We can therefore comfortably infer that when God made the invitation, “Wives, submit yourselves unto your…husbands” (Eph. 5:22), He did not do so because He thought the men knew better! But rather, as the Lord said to Alma when men cowardly threw women and children into a fire: “behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they may do this thing, or that the people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgments which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day.” Clearly, the Lord’s training program for those men who would be in His forces is no mere inflatable obstacle course! It is boot camp, and live fire is being used! We are in a position of real peril.

Thankfully, we have the Priesthood, for both armor and weapon. Only, in this mission, it is our carnal selves who have taken our potential selves hostage, and whom we must, therefore, search and destroy. How blessed we are to have a Captain who “tread the [battlefield] alone,” who died, pierced and bleeding, solitary and feeling deserted, with a death grip on the throat of that carnal self; who prevailed, even in death, and has now come back to fight the battle beside us over and over again. His life is the example of how the Priesthood is to be used as we serve. Little wonder, then, that it is called “the Holy Priesthood, after the Order of the Son of God” (D&C 107:3)! It is duly named for whose power it is, and therefore, who best understands and exemplified what it means to hold it. It is that very word “serve” that He wants us to pay special attention to as we do our duty.

Allow me to share a sacred experience of my own. I received an email some time ago from Laura Lund, who I had given a blessing to last summer before she left BYU for home to become the bride of a lucky young man. I had arisen that morning with the distinct impression that I should fast; so I did. About midday, I got a call from Laura, who I did not know. She said that she felt impressed to get a blessing before going home, but that her hometeachers were unavailable. I, recognizing the opportunity as the reason for the fast, agreed to be voice for the blessing. I now quote from her email:

You probably don't remember this…but one of the very first things Heavenly Father blessed me [with] through you…was that no permanent harm would befall me. Then I was blessed in upcoming events in my life as well as given insight to my potential future, which was humbling and powerful to hear. I thought the first bit about “no permanent harm” was a little unnerving, but I did not dwell on it.

A few weeks later I went to a resort with my fiancée’s…family. They took me mountain biking for my first time. I went down my first big hill too fast and when I came to the bottom…I did not turn sharp enough. My bike and I rode into the bushes and I flew over the handle bars and landed directly on my left shoulder.… We later found out that I had broken my collar bone into four pieces, but that it had broken in such a way that there would be no complications in the healing. I asked my fiancée later that evening after leaving the hospital for a priesthood blessing. I was told in the blessing that if I had not asked for the previous blessing (the one voiced by you) that serious damage would have happened to me in that accident.

I don't know how serious it would have been, but I do know that I was protected. I am so grateful, so grateful for the…power of the priesthood…. I am having a little girl in July, [which is] another reason to be grateful for that priesthood blessing….

I am so grateful, brothers and sisters, to have been able to participate in her life in such a way. I do not know what might have befallen her had she not heeded her prompting, but the important thing is that she did! And now one of God’s precious daughters gets to come into Laura’s arms and a loving home. Pondering on these things offers me such feelings as I cannot describe. Having these experiences helps me understand, to some degree, how God must feel for His children. And that, brothers and sisters, is exactly what I think the Priesthood is all about. D&C 84: 19-20 says, “And this greater priesthood administereth the gospel and holdeth the key of the mysteries of the kingdom, even the key of the knowledge of God. Therefore, in the ordinances thereof, the power of godliness is manifest. And without the ordinances thereof, and the authority of the priesthood, the power of godliness is not manifest unto men in the flesh; For without this no man can see the face of God, even the Father, and live.” If eternal life is knowing God perfectly (John 17:3), how can I ever expect to know Him if I have never been in His shoes, doing, in some small way that is my own, what He does, and feeling, in some small way that is my own, as He does? “without this no man can see the face of God…and live!”

A few verses later in D&C 84, The Oath and Covenant of the Priesthood teaches us that “whoso is faithful unto the obtaining these two priesthoods of which I have spoken, and the magnifying their calling…receive me, saith the Lord;… And he that receiveth me receiveth my Father; And he that receiveth my Father receiveth my Father's kingdom; therefore all that my Father hath shall be given unto him.” Paul called it being “joint-heirs with Christ,” but added this daunting caveat, “if so be that we suffer with him” (Romans 8:16). I would never be so blasphemous as to insinuate that anything we do or any sacrifice we make could ever be compared with the Savior, but when we understand what taking the Priesthood upon ourselves, just as Christ took it upon Himself to save all mankind, means about the Kind of Men we covenant to become, we will begin to understand more about who God is and how He feels. We will begin to suffer with our fellow brothers and sisters in our efforts to help them come to Christ so that they might be saved, and we will feel all of the love, and the pain (for pain is but the other side of the reality that is love) associated with that process, and therefore become joint-sufferers with Christ and thus begin to understand, in some way, more about God. Experiences such as the one I shared come now and again. More often than not, we are asked to simply do our duty—to stand guard through the night watch, vigilant though no enemy appears, night after night. It is only through these daily, personal triumphs that we can come to be ready for the decisive victories when the Lord sees fit to deliver one of our “enemies” into our hands.

Sisters, do not feel estranged from the Priesthood. My friend Sister Ozawa, serving in Kaohsiung, Taiwan, once wrote in one of her letters to me about her confusion about her connection to the Priesthood. In light of her current calling, the truth was easy to see. “You participate in the Priesthood as much as any Elder,” I told her. “It is simply an issue of division of roles.” (And as I mentioned before probably has a lot more to do with man’s needing it, and nothing to do with women not being good enough for it or important enough for it, or any of the other garbage the Father of Lies likes to banter about. We know precious little of the role of our Divine Matriarch, but we must not mistakenly interpret Sacred Silence for Secondary Citizenship in the Kingdom of God—any such premises are grossly false.) “You may not be able to actually perform the ordinance of baptism for a friend you teach who wants to come into the fold,” I continued, “but you will have ‘baptized’ that person far more than that elder who stands in the water. You may not actually lay your hands on that person’s head and bestow the gift of the Holy Ghost, but you will have everything to do with that person’s receiving the Holy Ghost, and taking advantage of that Priesthood blessing. In this way, you participate fully in the power and blessings of the Priesthood. Do not confuse position or power with participation.” Sisters, you, too, participate in the Priesthood, in whatever place you may be in, in life or in the Church. When your husband gives a child a Father’s blessing, is it not your faith that gives the blessing the wings and power to make it through the roof and into the chambers of heaven? Is it not your efforts day by day, your faith and your prayers, that a child is brought up in such a way that he or she can receive the blessings promised to them? Do not mistake position or power for participation.

Allow me to close with a quote from C.S. Lewis and a scripture. Said he, “Christian writers…have sometimes spoken of the husband’s headship with a complacency to make the blood run cold. We must go back to our Bibles. The husband is the head of the wife just in so far as he is to her what Christ is to the Church. He is to love her as Christ loved the church…and give his life for her (Eph 5:25). This headship, then, is most fully embodied not in the husband we should all wish to be but in him whose marriage is most like a crucifixion” (The Four Lovers, C.S. Lewis). Christ is our Savior, but without the Church to help carry it out, His Atonement would do us no good. The two are inseparable, married and co-equals, who Christ receives not as a prized possession, but as the opportunity in whose service He will be glorified—“whose marriage is most like a crucifixion”—for our salvation is His glory.

This should give us some better idea of what the Priesthood really is all about.

Brothers, we have been blessed with the tools to participate in the salvation of those we ought to love most intensely and serve most devotedly. However, “we have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion.”

“the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and..the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness.”

“No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; By kindness, and pure knowledge, which shall greatly enlarge the soul without hypocrisy, and without guile”

“when we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man.” Brothers, “To be a man” ought to be synonymous with the title “Priesthood holder,” but merely holding the Priesthood never inferred true manhood, only the opportunity to develop it through its correct use. It will be our privilege brothers, to serve our families in a most sacred and wonderful way on the day of resurrection; it behooves us now, therefore, to learn lesson one—that is, as it ever has been, that we are “called to serve.”

Untitled Poem

2009-05-24T08:11:00.000-07:00

The mind is a battlefield

A chess game of sorts

White seeks for truth

Black, to distort

Strategy, study, discipline all required

In defeating the black

Let it back you into a corner

And it's hard coming back

Bishop, queen, castle

Same tools, black and white

Greatest strengths turn to weakness

Depending on the color of knight

For virtue, for vice

For good or for ill

To save and to heal?

To hurt and to kill?

It isn't enough

The white king to defend

Let white sweep black off the board!

That's when it will end

Who wins the battle

I will decide

For here is the secret:

I play both sides

Hiking Y Mountain

2009-03-18T22:12:00.000-07:00

Let's get one thing straight right off-this hike wasn't just to the "Y" on the mountain--that hike is a drab bit of walking with nothing to speak of in the way of natural scenery and valuable only for its group activity possibilities and its scenic overlook of Provo. The hike Nat and I went on was to the top of the mountain (the summit). Ok....

If you want to see the topo map to get an idea of where the hike went, click here. You'll need to click "Trail Map" at the top of the menu on the left part of the page. There was still a good amount of snow on the south side (and a lot on the east side) of the mountain, so we lost the trail and ended up just forging our own up the south side. We were both glad we did! It not only saved us some time, but we found a neat grove of trees that had been burnt, their charred trunks and stumps sticking out of the snow.

Beautiful, no?

That last picture is from the east side of the mountain facing south on the way back down. We followed the "trail" (covered in snow, obviously, but the general idea of it) back down. This was definitely one of the funnest parts of the hike. The snow was quite deep and sometimes you'd fall through almost hip deep. Good times. Timp, here I come.

On the philosophical side, it is so true that we desperately need to reconnect with nature. We seem to be hiding ourselves from it--trying to convince ourselves we're not as mortal as the world around us. Going out into nature is finding yourself, finding God, and finding others. It's beauty you just can't manufacture.

Thoughts from a plane...

2009-02-26T09:05:00.000-08:00

Those who know me best know I am at heart a dramatic, if I can nounify that adjective. Thus, in my “thoughtful states” I tend to get bombastic and didactic all at the same time. I recently saw a quote pinned up on a wall at school from Abraham Lincoln that says, “Die when I may, I want it said of me that I plucked a weed and planted a flower where ever I thought a flower would grow.” A powerful quote, no? It goes right along with my other favorite quote from Henri-Frédéric Amiel that says, “Life is short and we never have enough time for gladdening the hearts of those who travel the way with us. Oh, be swift to love! Make haste to be kind.” The cruelty of man to man always sickens my heart, especially when I myself am the perpetrator of such acts. When acts of violence and cruelty are witnessed, too many of us shrink, thinking, “I’m glad I’m not like that,” forgetting that it lies within all mankind to become so depraved! Kindness, gentleness, and love are those healing virtues so desperately needed by man, and also so difficult to cultivate! With all of this in mind, I include an entry made in personal journal while in a plane (one of the places I get most “thoughtful” I think due to the wide vistas available to view) on the second day of January, this year. Remember my flair for the dramatic; I can be a little verbose, but read through the fluff for the emotional content, for it was written from the heart. As always, my most immediate audience—i.e. the one who needs it most—is myself….

I sit on a plane with my fellow human beings, and the silent, dark earth passes on beneath us. We float over innumerable souls, evidenced by lights, grouped and huddled for fear of the lonesome dark-a mirror of the most basic of all desires, deeper than that of sustenance and pleasing environment, inherent in their creators—that of companionship.

Below me, countless scenes of the same kind play out on the human stage. As the lone lamp in the forest shines inconsequential and irrelevant when seen against the vast blackness from above, so the earth moves on its course through the cosmos. Scenes of love, scenes of villainy (whose heart is always fear), scenes of no consequence alike play and replay in their various forms, played out by their various actors, heeding the voice of one director or the other (love or fear), time and time again as they have been since man became man. And still we grasp and moan and cling! Still we fret over the torturing objects and circumstances that we ourselves have created and willfully submit ourselves to! Oh humanity! Open thy eyes! Do not grovel in the dust of ignorance! Arise! Ascend to the spiritual heights like the literal heights I now enjoy, with all the perspective it offers! So inconsequential your daily dealings, and yet you grasp after worthless money, fret over mere mortal matters, and grow indignant over trifling, petty dealings with those you ought to call brother and sister, for such they are!

Few are the things which shall endure and which we can thus cal “real;” all else must pass away and vanish—even the heavens themselves, though immortal they seem! How few are our days! Should they not then be spent in bringing about all of the happiness-happiness that is the only reasonable drive for man—that we can to our fellow beings, who, unaware, wallow in mortal mire?

“Life is short and we never have enough time for gladdening the hearts of those who travel the way with us. Oh, be swift to love! Make haste to be kind.”

Shared emotion (be it what it may), shared experience, shared wisdom, and most of all shared love—man, these by thy treasures! All else, but shadows and counterfeits! Place your hearts, your hopes, your passions upon them and your life shall not be in vain! Cling to any other prize, and dark shall be thy days and thy eye! For such shall vanish as smoke and your precious few days shall be spent in fruitless pursuit of that which you cannot obtain! Cross yourselves in these things! Arise, dear friends, and be men!

Self-image

2008-11-09T15:45:00.000-08:00

Honesty affects all aspects of life.

This is not an overstatement or over-generalization. This is truth. The more one ponders on this truth, the more evident it becomes, and the more one is empowered to use it in his life.

If I cannot look at myself honestly, I will never be able to look at others honestly. Said another way, my refusal to look fully at myself becomes my refusal to look fully at others. I will never fully know, love, or appreciate others until I fully know, love, and appreciate myself. "Love thy neighbor as thyself," said the greatest Teacher in the world. It was not only a mandate, but a statement of truth. We cannot love our neighbors more than we love ourselves.

How do you feel about yourself? Are there parts of you that you hate? Then there are parts of others that you hate? Not until we can look at ourselves fully in the mirror, completely naked (this is true both in this metaphoric sense and also in a physical sense--if you hate your physical body, you're still hating yourself) and love that being completely, blemishes and all, will we be able to do this for others. Do not pretend to say that you have patience for others weaknesses, but not your own. Let that be the first sign that you are lying to yourself and will be damned until you fix it.

So what is to be done with weaknesses? Especially those ones we just cannot seem to immediately fix.

The alcoholic is a great example for us. The alcoholic who has learned to deal with his problem does not hate himself for his weakness. He understands it is merely a part of him and adjusts accordingly. He avoids alcohol, but that does not mean he is paralyzed--sitting, wringing his hands at home, hoping that a bottle of alcohol doesn't sneak up on him and surprise him. He accentuates the things he can do and the things he can enjoy. It is the same with us.

We must learn to accept our weaknesses as part of ourselves and love ourselves notwithstanding. This does not mean we do not seek to change; it means we are patient with change and keep ourselves away from situations that would put us in a place to hurt ourselves and/or others because of that weakness.

The practical applications are endless. The man who struggles with pornography makes sure to stay away from the internet when he is alone until he has truly beaten the problem. The overeater avoids eating alone until the weakness is conquered. We all have them--what's yours?

Once acceptance has taken place, solutions can be found for avoiding hurting ourselves and others, and we can then move past the weakness and accentuate the positive.

Before going on let me state that those things which are our greatest strengths are, or can be, usually also our greatest weaknesses. This topic deserves its own entry, but let that suffice for now so that we can use this truth as we move on. This ties directly into accentuating the positive and overcoming the weakness.

Perhaps the porn addict finds that his weakness is driven in part by his love for and curiosity about the human body. This is a great thing! He can take this and apply it as a strength. Perhaps he takes an anatomy class and develops a tremendous respect for the body. His passion drives him to learn all he can and excell, and the learning educates the mind as well as the soul and passions. Perhaps the alcoholic (putting genetic factos aside, which obviously play a large role and are the reason why many alocoholics simply never touch alcohol again) finds that his excess is caused by a desire to relax and escape. This, too, can be turned for good. He simply needs to find another positive way of doing the same thing. Perhaps it is exercise, playing music, cooking, who knows? But the truth of the matter is this: we are all good at some things. We can find things that we love about ourselves. Then we must focus on those things--expand upon them. We will find satisfaction, joy, and confidence as we do so. And avoid situations where we know we may fall until our weaknesses become our strengths and we are ready to handle them appropriately.

As we do this, we will find that we begin to see others differently. We will be less critical. People will enjoy our presence, even hunger for it, for we will help them do what we have done--that is, see what is uplifting and strong inside them. And we will help them accentuate it. We will find that we truly begin to love others. But it must start at home. If that home is one you hate and find ugly, do what you can to change it or to change your attitudes.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference.

If the garden is ugly, find the flowers that seem to be growing best and uproot the other weeds and allow more of that good flower to grow. And focus on that growth. Little by little, you will make the changes to the other parts of this "house" and become more and more pleased. But if you cannot accept it and love it for what it is, good luck even getting started.

Learn to love yourself.

The "naked in the mirror" thing might be a good place to start......

A post-script: I would be dishonest if I did not include a few thoughts of my faith, for I believe it is the only way real growth occurs. A man may change his actions (stop yelling at his children for example), but real change occurs within the desires of one's heart (this man's problems with anger and patience may not have changed). Only God can give us a new heart. It is incredible to me that as I have turned to Him in prayer and pleading, seeking help with some weakness, I have seen those weaknesses dissappear. Suddenly, I do not even have a desire for them. My heart changed. By a power outside myself. "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” (Ether 12:27) We can struggle and try and fail and feel like we accomplish little; or we can turn to the source of all goodness and turn it over to Him. His grace truly is sufficient.

A 400 dollar staple...

2008-10-14T09:32:00.001-07:00

It all started one fateful Tuesday when I was running out the door for my temple shift. I was staying with some friends, Russel and Trish Wilcox, while I was in-between housing, and they have an...interestingly...placed shelf right at about head height [see picture] on the wall of their kitchen in the pathway between the wall (obviously, since that is what it is attached to) and the kitchen table, meaning you have to kind of move your head to the side to avoid it. No problem if you're a normal person moving at normal speed in normal frame of mind. I am none of these.

So I'm looking for Saydee, their chihuahua-ita, to put her away before I go, and she runs into their bedroom so I go after her and then she runs back out into the kitchen. Well, I'm such a fun uncle, I run after her to play, but am trying also not to step on her, so I'm looking down. You can probably guess what happened.

WHAM! I ran into the corner of the shelf (I didn't realize it until later, or maybe even the next day, but just that alone gave me a good little cut and a HUGE goose-egg), and immediately ducked my head like you do when you hit it on something, and crouched, stopping. Everything happened so fast. I heard the contents on the shelf rocking. I heard them fall. One of the vases miraculously stayed on. The other two did not, but I broke both of their falls (and one of their falls broke me...). The large, square, heavy, ceramic vase (farthest left) came careening down and landed on one of its points in my head. Yes, IN, not ON. I yelled, but did not swear (yes, I am quite proud of this). It was quite the man yell. Although its fall (and my head) had been broken, it hit the ground and shattered. I somehow managed to catch the other smaller green vase with my right foot/leg and it rolled off that onto the carpet and didn't break. I might be a ninja, but I'm not sure. This of course all happened in, say, 1 second. So I'm down on all fours, trying to take in the pain and assess the situation. The first thought I had was about the broken vase and needing to replace it. Then the blood started to fall. I was a little confused at first. Is this blood? From my head? Will there be a lot? I sat there for a minute, watching it drip onto the kitchen floor. The longer I waited, the more I realized it wasn't about to stop anytime soon. I also had to pause to admire the beauty of my rich, deep and dark red blood--my it is some beautiful stuff! Admire with me:

Next thought: go see if the cut is huge-big. So I run into the bathroom, catching blood in my hands so I don't get it on the carpet, and try to get a look at the cut. Here is what I see:

Cool picture, no?

I can't see the cut because it's on the back of my head, but I decide I'd better go get it stitched up because I'm sure bleeding a lot (I dumped the handful of blood I had caught on the way into the sink and had been filling the sink up with my blood while I looked at the cut), and who knows how long I have before I lose enough blood to where it wouldn't be safe to drive. So I run and grab a cloth and now I have to find Saydee (who had run off when I yelled my man yell and when the vase CRASHED! to the floor). Saydee is nowhere to be found. Not upstairs, not downstairs... Somehow, I've felt very calm through this whole ordeal and felt less in a hurry than I had be to get out the door to the temple (I mean, I had the presence of mind to take pictures during the whole thing...). Finally, she comes out from under a couch, tail tucked between her legs, eyes downcast like she must be the culprit of all this mayhem. I get her put away and head out the door, cloth to my head.

So now I'm driving to the hospital, cloth to my head, trying to

drive, trying to call the temple and tell them I won't make my shift, and trying to text Russell to tell him that if he comes home and finds a shattered vase and a pool of blood on the floor and in the sink to not be worried. I got some funny looks from other drivers. Who can blame them? I was a sight to see.

So I get to the hospital and the lady behind the desk is with an older couple and she's checking them in. I wait patiently (no pun intended), and suddenly the old couple stops talking and they just look at me. She looks at me and doesn't say anything. Her mouth just kind of hangs open for a second. I say something helpful like, "I cut my head," and she asks, "Are you ok?" I reply that I think I am and she can tell that I'm pretty composed, so she just asks me to fill out the form and she'll be with me in a minute. She checks me in and then, of course, I get to wait. Before I leave her little office, she says, "Oh! The bleeding may have already stopped, but you can have some of these, and she hands me a little stack of gauze pads."

So now I'm in the waiting room, sitting across from this old couple looking like this:

Ok, so I wasn't wearing that exact facial expression, but they probably thought I was...

This old cowboy is thoroughly disgruntled about the waiting and says, quite loudly, "That's why I hate comin' to this damn place, you always gotta wait so damn long." The emphasis is not added by the author. I thought that was great fun, but tried not to laugh. Mostly, they just looked at me like I might be dying. But they still wanted in first.

Finally, I get in, and everyone looks at me with those same wide eyes as I pass by. Maybe because I have blood running across my face, maybe because I'm walking around just fine and smiling at them and that just looks funny, maybe because its American Fork and they mostly see the old folks like who I was sitting across from. I pass a large group of staff around a computer (5-6 people), and their conversation stops and they all just look at me, same wide-eyed stare. I say, "It's not as bad as it looks," and they laugh and go on with their work (this is important because most people don't think I'm very funny, but apparently those who are in the medical field DO think I'm funny and this just makes me want to be a doctor even more...). The next few minutes involve my head getting a good cleaning by the nurse and me getting to retell the story a dozen times to her and all the other people who come by wanting to know what happened. My guess is these people don't see much in their emergency room. Probably a lot of Jake's and Bertha's who want some damn medication for their damn aches. The doctor comes in and says he's going to put one staple in my head. I, being the tough, perhaps-ninja man that I am, refuse anesthetic and he takes out his little staple gun and POOM! staples my head.

Me. Staple Head.

[it turns out that your scalp has very few nerve endings {this is probably why, besides the fact that they're so darn huge in comparison to the rest of their bodies, little babies and kids are always banging their heads into everything} and so the stapling really didn't hurt. [For all of you who are thinking what I was thinking, the answer is yes, scalping actually wasn't all that painful.] The first staple didn't go in right apparently, so he had to get that one out, and put in another one. Finally, I was set to go. I could shower and all that and was to come back in a week and get it out.

The aftermath: The good news is that I got the vase back together. Look at this skill!:

Before........

....a bottle of super glue and 30 minutes later..... BAM! ......After!

I got the staple out a little while ago. I had tried to tug it out myself, to no avail. I tried a pair of scissors, to see if I could cut it in the middle and then pull it out--also fruitless (though not painless). It took 5 seconds for the lady at the hospital to get it out with her special staple-getter-outer tool, and I got to keep my staple, complete with the pee cup she gave it to me in.

Here's the kicker: my parents just called me to tell me they got a bill for $400 from the hospital! $400?! That was sure an expensive staple!! Good thing I got some gauze and a pee cup out of it!

Other thoughts: I'm SURE the procedures done did NOT justify the million years that doctor spent in medical school training. I'm pretty sure he could show me how to staple a wound in 5 minutes and forever more, I would be a proficient head stapler. I AM sure, however, that all those years in medical school is why that bill was $400. (all the insurance mumbo-jumbo is to blame as well, but I won't get started on that. This has been long enough) My point is that it sure seems that so much of what we do in such a SPECIALIZED industry (medicine) could be better taught and trained through apprenticeship. Like in the old days. You want to be a blacksmith? Well, you become an apprentice to one, and when he feels you're good and ready, you get a little certificate or whatever and you get to start your own business. Why can't things run like that now (I know the answer to that question, and there's good reason, but it's just too bad)? You want to be a hand surgeon? Well, let's skip years and years and thousands and thousands of dollars, and get you to help out some surgeon for eight years. You can learn everything from him, read lots of books on that specific discipline and you'll come out ready to go. Sigh... Oh well. Maybe someday I'll be the one charging that same doctor $400 just to give him some damn medication. :)

To my friend Evan...

2008-09-10T08:53:00.000-07:00

I have a great friend named Evan. Hey, look there he is now just off to the right there...

Evan is a great man. There are many reasons I love Evan; one of the reasons is that somehow Evan has the ability to make everything more fun. I don't know what it is or how he does it, but he does. Everything is more fun when Evan is around.

He has a great wife named Jackie. There they are together below.

Yup. Rollin'. Albuquerque style.

This is them on their happy day off to the right.....

So I speak Vietnamese and there's a tongue twister in Vietnamese that goes like this:

Bà ba béo

Bán bánh bèo

Bên bờ biển

Bả bị bắt bỏ bót

Ba bốn bận

Evan loved hearing this little tongue twister. The tongue twister is a little story about a fat woman selling bread on the seashore and getting arrested and thrown in jail three or four times. In honor of him, and for the benefit of all, I post it here... Enjoy!

On Making Mistakes and Improving

2008-08-17T12:32:00.000-07:00

I am a deeply religious person; however, I had originally considered trying to keep this page merely philosophical in approach, but am abandoning the idea, because I really can't separate the two: my philosophy grows out of my religion. Those of you who would accept philosophical ponderings, but are unwilling to read religious material (whether having a belief in God or not) lack wisdom and therefore can suffer in it. For the rest of humanity...

I work at a place called the Missionary Training Center where LDS (Mormon [The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints]) missionaries are (surprise) trained before going to some spot around the world to spread the good news about Christ and His living prophets. My department helps missionaries become better teachers that they might more effectively share the important message we have. Part of how I do this is called the "training model", which entails explanation, demonstration, practice, evaluation, re-practice, and the evaluation again and conclusion. My good friend Rebecka Ronndahl asked me about a month ago how to apply this pattern in our own life for growth. She felt what Neal A. Maxwell described in his talk Notwithstanding My Weakness: "Now may I speak, not to the slackers in the Kingdom, but to those who carry their own load and more; not to those lulled into false security, but to those buffeted by false insecurity, who, though laboring devotedly in the Kingdom, have recurring feelings of falling forever short....The first thing to be said of this feeling of inadequacy is that it is normal. There is no way the Church can honestly describe where we must yet go and what we must yet do without creating a sense of immense distance. Following celestial road signs while in telestial traffic jams is not easy, especially when we are not just moving next door—or even across town." Rebecka felt that distance acutely and wanted to bridge the gap and was frustrated, I think, with what seemed like slow progress and frequent mistakes.
I have long pondered about how we can apply the pattern for teaching from the Missionary Training Center in our lives in a way that can lead to growth as it does for the missionaries, though in different arenas. In pondering I have come to feel that it really is no different than in the MTC. At times we do not even know we are "missing something" (for the missionaries this might be not asking questions or asking questions poorly; for us it might be doing something wrong or not doing it at all when we ought to be); it often takes someone to point it out to us. This is most effective when done through the scriptures and accompanied by demonstration (seeing positive examples). Then we have opportunity to retry, or try to do it for the first time. Even when we know what it is we want to do, sometimes we lack the experience or knowledge of how to do it or our bad habits get in the way of doing it. It often takes repeated practice (and failure [opportunities to learn]) to make it happen. We get feedback, we re-evaluate, we set goals, and we try again.
What are the dangers? The same as for the missionaries: discouragement or thinking they aren't good or can never do it. And what is it we tell missionaries? We emphasize the good – the improvement each time. And tell them to focus on that and not to get too caught up in it all. Because we know they will be all right. They just need time. So we help them remember that in the end they are the Lord's missionaries and that their effort and desire are really the most important things and that God will make up the rest and to trust that.
Is it any different for us? My inability to ask good questions as a missionary is an imperfection to be corrected, just as a problem with vain thoughts or anything could be. (And perhaps the issue with questions is even more detrimental to others and to their salvation [due to how critical they are to teaching] than just some stupid vain thoughts.) So why are we so patient with one and so impatient with the other?
Learn the doctrine, see good examples, try, get feedback (which is why we must find those we can trust and share our burdens with them [the things that we struggle with as well as our successes, hopes, desires, etc.] – so we can get feedback from close friends!), and re-practice with perspective! My sins have been paid for. Holding onto them or being upset by them does me no good. In fact, it gives Satan power and makes God angry! (see 2 Nephi 4:26-29 [sometimes we see our weaknesses as our enemies] and Alma 33:16) So I just need to get over it. I try my best; I feel bad when I make mistakes and use that emotional energy to impel me to do better; and then I move on. I let go of the mistake. It doesn't define me. I'm still a king or queen in the making (see Revleation 5:10) just learning my lessons. God has such things in store for us; we cannot comprehend! The Atonement is there for use! It helps us both remove negative weeds and cultivate flowers of character (see The Atonement: All for All by Bruce C. Hafen). And thus I grow, remembering Christ suffered so I don't have to(see D&C 19:16) if I would do my part, which is to offer a broken heart and a contrite spirit (see 3 Ne. 9:20) and the heart and a willing mind (see D&C 64:34). Our very desire to improve and be godly defines our broken-heartedness and becomes our key to justification and sanctification by the Spirit. So we don't need to worry when we make mistakes – they are paid for! No, we don't want to sin or be callous towards the Atonement. There are those who need to be worried about being too callous, and there are others who will need make sure they are not so concerned with "hurting the Savior" that they really end up hurting Him by not fully taking advantage of His gift bought at so great a cost (a price already paid – a hurt He's already done and finished). When we look at our mistakes this way, our gratitude for the Atonement and our Savior increases, and we truly begin to grow. Christ has paid for our sins – let us "rejoice and be glad" (Psalms 118:24)! I am going to make mistakes; it's just going to happen. In fact, it's part of the program. God knows it and knew it and that's why He sent His Son. Like a missionary learning a new language, getting caught up in the mistakes doesn't help. With a humble, penitent, but well-perspected chuckle --knowing that such actions are not worthy me - that I'm better than that and that I'll do better than that - knowing that I'm a king and I'm going to live like it and that I'll make it – I'm just learning -- I then go off with a smile, grateful for my Savior, and determined to do better and try again.

Why ponies are better than trees...

2008-07-24T10:20:00.000-07:00

Let's imagine for a moment you fell in some mud, covering your forearm in a good layer of thick, brown, smelly mud. Would you reach for a napkin and smear the mud around, grabbing more napkins as you filled them with mud? Certainly not! This is obviously not the most effective way to remove the mud and its stench. Even if you got most of it off, there always seems to be that brownish film left over your skin. No, the best way would be with water! Wash that mud off, stench and all! It's faster, it's cleaner, and you go away feeling refreshed. This is why the writer is in adament support of the bidet.

post script - If the reader is confused at all by the title, it may be helpful to know that 'bidet' is a French word for 'pony'.

Competitiveness

2008-07-18T09:20:00.001-07:00

There are healthy kinds of competitiveness with nourishing results, and there are unhealthy forms of competitiveness that are poison to the soul.
Healthy competition arouses within us a desire to succeed and to do better; however, it does not influence what we think of ourselves or others around us. For healthy competitiveness to exist, the two or more parties must think of each other as equals and true brotherly love must exist.
I have a friend named Thanh who shares this kind of competitiveness with me. He teaches a class of young men trying to learn Vietnamese so they can serve two year missions to Vietnamese communities around the world. On occasion, I have an opportunity to teach his class. Whenever I do, my goal is to have had the class learn something new that they can show him and impress him with when it is his shift to teach. For my own glory? No; though I would probably say something later akin to, “Hey Thanh, did ya like how those missionaries could talk about their families like that? Huh? Huh?” with a smile on my face. Thanh might say, “I don’t know Cam, they’re still struggling with the vocab…” in a good natured, ribbing way; or he might say, “Yeah, they are so amazing huh!” Either way, we would both celebrate the goodness of the missionaries and walk away feeling good; and vice-versa – if it were Thanh who had taught and they came to me with a great new grammar principle mastered, I would give honor to their goodness, and also be inspired by Thanh’s goodness to do better myself. I would NOT, however, think of Thanh as any better or any worse, in any case.
Another memory: As a high school wrestler, I could be chatting with my upcoming opponent before a match as a friend, and two minutes later be smearing his face into the mat as a foe, determined to make him hurt until he yielded. When I won, I thought no greater of myself, nor any less of my opponent. It was merely my day, or perhaps I was just better than he was at the sport. Afterwards, the opponent willing, I could converse with him normally, just as we had before.
Both of these examples show the type of competitiveness that is constructive and that leaves both parties walking away, having “won” or “lost”, uplifted and inspired.
The other type of competitiveness is the reason why many avoid competitive situations or say they don’t like competition. In this type of competitiveness, hierarchy is set up as a result of outcome. Such a person thinks, “I won, therefore I am better,” or, “I lost therefore, he is better, and/or I am worse, but he’d better watch out cuz someday I’ll get him.” One must imagine a menacing tone with such statements, especially the last one, because a person who has a healthy competitive spirit could say the same thing, but with a smile on his face, or even a great amount of determination, but determination that still bears a good, happy spirit. Unhealthy competitiveness is not satisfied with doing well, but only by doing better than another; it is not uplifted by simply doing the best it can, but only uplifted by putting others down, which, in the end, only debases and leaves all parties feeling lower and that they have lost something. This kind of competitiveness has its base, of course, in the mother of all sins: pride.

On humor and thoughts

2008-06-21T01:50:00.000-07:00

Humor is our greatest ally in our ventures to find happiness as well as in our fights against the often bitter ironies, challenges, and disappointments so characteristic of the human experience. As others have said, often one of life's greatest challenges is to "drink the bitter cup" without actually becoming bitter.
When all is said and done, the greatest battles of the human race that have been fought have taken place, day in and day out, in the minds of each person. The watershed of attitudes, desires, actions, and the determiner for so much of what constitutes our human experience, thoughts truly have tremendous power and impact on not only the individual, but his community, and thus, the world.
So many -- too many -- of our thoughts fall into the "self-destructive" or "self-defeating" category. If thoughts are our greatest allies in the struggles of life, it does not good to poison them, or allow them to be poisoned. We would never allow someone to mangle our right hand, yet we so frequently allow ourselves to be handicapped by thoughts that, in effect, do the same thing to us mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and thus even have physical ramifications.
Another entry will have to cover in greater detail some examples of these species of thoughts and the "parent thoughts" who spawn and nurture them; for now, I wish to cover how to defeat such thoughts.
These thoughts can justly be called "mental maelstroms," as they quickly spiral downward to nothingness. Once caught in their pull, it can be incredibly difficult to free oneself from the rip of the raging, swirling current, but it must be done if one wishes to preserve his happiness and even sanity.
So what can be done? Here is where we come back to humor. These thoughts only have as much venom as we give them -- only have as much rope to bind us with as we are willing to concede. In letting our "feathers get ruffled" by these thoughts, we give them power. They only bother us because they bother us; if they do not bother us, they will not bother us. Allow me to explain such an obvious statement.
If I make some social blunder and others notice and comment, laugh, or mock, I may quickly find myself in downward-spiraling thoughts. I may review the situation over and over again in my head in my anxiety, reliving the moment time and again. To put it in another perspective, itwould be a lot like getting stabbed once, then re-stabbing oneself to remember exactly what it felt like; it is a vain, or fruitless, exercise. As I review the situation, others' reactions, and my own blunder, I may find myself angry with the people, myself, the situation, or even God. Why does the situation bother me? Because I could not laugh at it. When I learn to laugh at myself, even through possible tears of sadness, we, in effect, clip the barbs off of these assailing thoughts. They may do some momentary, minimal damage, but their rancor is gone.
By simply laughing at an uncomfortable situation, it has already lost its sting. This is often the only way to pull oneself out of the whirlpool of destructice thoughts. I must confront them and then laugh at them, understanding them in the context of my own experience, and of the human experience.
Let's not take life, and especially not ourselves, too seriously. Learn to laugh at yourself, even in the thoughts that come to your mind, and you will save yourself hours of wasted energy and grief.

On the consequences of physicality in a relationship

2008-06-16T21:11:00.000-07:00

This is the first of many, I suppose, entries. I don't know if any of the things I think will have any value to anyone, but I sure think a lot, and it sure would be selfish to not share. Here, I'll share a recent thought I had on relationships.
Overemphasizing the physical in a relationship destroys it. A beautiful physical relationship is based on the friendship and emotions shared between the people in the relationship, but if this becomes the only focus, the closeness of shared experiences, traditions, discussions, and all the other things that go into making a good friendship are lost, and the physical relationship loses its savor. It becomes commonplace. Whether you were kissing your partner or anybody else, it would be the exact same. And if physical becomes the focus, instead of the inherent value of your partner, then physical things will be the things you begin to value. If we start talking about merely physical, then we move into the realm of things like houses, cars, or anything of the like. The problem is that there's always a "new-and-improved" model with such things, and so it will be with you. Suddenly, you will notice more flashy models and lust after them. Say goodbye to your relationship; say hello to running around looking for something you'll never find (and the frustration that comes with such a pursuit). Furthermore, the true desire of the human soul is not for the "hottest model," but for a true friend with whom one can share the deepest parts of oneself. Thus, even if you avoid going after the "newest model" presented to you, you will begin to loathe your partner, and find yourself happier in others' company because there is a real relationship there - one you find true fulfillment and joy in - and you will gravitate towards those people. Sooner or later, if the problem is not fixed, you will break ties with your partner for somebody (or multiple "somebodies") else. The answer: keep focused on being friends. Keep building the relationship you did before you got physical and let the physical be the occaisional spice that adds that good "kick" to your "dish". Too much "kick" and you get numb to it and just want "soul food" again. Good luck figuring out where that line is. Open communication is recommended for figuring it out as it's different for everybody. Let's not confuse the closeness, both physical, emotional, and otherwise, that comes from closeness of breath and body for the true intimacy of a deep friendship.