Contemplation

"You know we don't do a lot of that these days: pondering. Because we have very important text messages to read!" - John Bytheway

Eons ago, man looked up at the sky, wondering at his fate. He wondered how far away those swirling lights might be, and eventually this love of night-sky aided man in his agricultural pursuits, in the art of eating (and living) well. His ability to wonder and marvel and, above all, "consider all the worlds [God's] hands have made," some say, is the upper echelon of what makes him Man, apart from animals.

It has been said that the average metropolitan man receives more data or information in one day than a medieval yeoman would have been exposed to in his entire lifetime. Our minds are remarkable things, and can store a seemingly infinite amount of data, but what of the connections amongst all of those facts? In our society, we have made a startlingly-fast transition to accumulating understanding to cramming in mere information. We have sacrificed depth of knowledge for breadth, and wisdom for knowledge. Many men and women of science are beginning to note how fields of research are slowing their progress, being slowed, or even reversed, in their moral and mental progress by the barrage of technology-instigated distractions. In some cases, it becomes a sick craving strictly for information, stripped of meaning and spiritual import (so it is with our bleached grains, so our intellectual culture follows. See my food blog). When I was in college, I pursued knowledge. My goal was to understand the world of physics and astronomy with greater depth. I spent much time instead taking in large amounts of information, most of which did not lend to greater overall understanding of the key concepts of my discipline of choice. Perhaps if we had gone on hiking trips and field trips to observatories to view the heavens, and integrated that into our classroom rote, things would have turned out differently for me. If I had been given more time to ponder and contemplate the majesty of the celestial globe diagram and movements of star positions per year, decades, and even millennia, rather than was made to focus on thousands of disconnected and sterile facts, I could have excelled. It was only when I took a break from college, and got a job as a food-delivery driver, that my learning truly began. I started thinking for hours at a time, drawing deeply from the wells of my own intellectual potential. Putting basic concepts together, making more complex connections across disciplines, such as literature intersecting with historic significances, religion with scientific discovery. I began to see that there are those who ponder, and there are those that do not. This dichotomy of man encompasses all socioeconomic and cultural boundaries, I have found. It saddens me when people are aware of so much negative happenings in the world and in their community, do not see how they are interconnected through a web of incorrect philosophy, and thus do not see a need or a purpose to do anything about what is wrong. To ponder, to dream, to aspire to ideals given as the prize for patient meditation, is to live, I believe. To decide one cannot make a difference, close oneself off from ideals (settling for comfort instead), and eliminate the creation and pursuit of said ideas is, pertaining to one's humanity, to die.

Safety and Vulnerability

I love sailing. My direct experience in it is weak (but not absent), but my pondering on it, reading about it in novels, and thinking of some of the life lessons it teaches is rich. For instance, when we are in a small vessel floating in an infinite sea, all pretense in stripped away and we are exposed to a harsh reality: that we indeed are exposed. We are at the mercy of the elements, and what is worse, they are utterly without mercy. Rain, wind, and even ice conspire to challenge, nay even sometimes seem to mock, our well-being and lives. At least, some may think, one is somewhat safe in port. Why do others ride the storm, risk their existence for what is unsure? Treasure? New land?
Hence, we come to Safety and Vulnerability. These two concepts exist in intimate, tender, and beautiful ways in humanity. I would suggest that our deep ability both to feel each and to allow courage -- in the face of vulnerability -- to supersede safety is something that makes us as humans very special, for it is not that some remain in security and others render their lives vulnerable (or, yes, dangerous) because the idea of safety (for it is not a thing, an absolute, but a feeling) has no appeal or grab upon the risk-takers, but quite the contrary. In other words, the vulnerable choose their path all-the-more because they feel both emotions -- a desire for safety and a reticence at fear -- in a much raw-er way than those secure, and yet choose the harder way, giving heed to vulnerability rather than security. . . but is it truly the more difficult path??
First, consider safety. It is something many long for and crave. It is the feeling of being insulated from the dangers that surround us. It can act as a buffer in order to operate under difficult circumstances, sometimes leading us to forget our dangers. It is also what holds us back (settling for it instead of chasing our dreams) more than anything else. Whats more, it is more imagined than real.
What safety covers us from is vulnerability. Vulnerability is what allows grace to flow into our lives. It allows kindness and all healing to reach us.Otherwise we spend our lives squirming at every close touch, every nearly-dear friend, every healing emissary. Of the countless examples from my own life, I think of spine therapy. A man in California, blessed still by life, told me of a car accident he was in where the vehicle rolled multiple times. He told me of the pain, the feeling of being imprisoned by his own body, and of the tortuous therapy sessions. He made the observation that only by allowing the physician, a chiropractor, to touch and apply force to his body, and informing Doctor where it hurt the most, was he able to receive eventual relief. Now, make no mistake, the least painful thing to do in the present moment would have been to keep silence over his hidden aches, but he knew that only through pain and exposure could he receive the full benefit -- yea, arguably the only benefit, other options offering nothing -- of his therapy sessions. I suppose one could argue that other options would offer no benefit other than that of security, or safety (in this case from heightened pain). As it is with this case, so it is with life. Pain or suffering and healing or improvement often come in the same package, which is why some blessings of our mortal journey seem like a curse at the present moment, but nevertheless yields "the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." I commented on this story in a religious discussion in later years, commenting that "when given the possibility of full healing by God, we are tempted to shrink and try to accept partial healing and, upon Him examining our darkest corners, exclaim 'No, Please. Don't look there, its too painful,' but in this context, vulnerability is a very good thing".  To extend the metaphor further, if we are to be exercised, or stretched and have our capacities enlarged, by the pain and suffering which vulnerability allows, how can we remain in safety, away from the gym, and rightly be upset when we remain weak, or struggle with the same chronic spiritual pains for years and years?
I therefore set out to the road, with little but my sleeping bag, bicycle, and a few hundred dollars in hand, relying on my own strength and soon thereafter by the human kindness offered to me at every turn. You just learn to accept it. Once you learn to love yourself, you come to cherish it and bask in the goodness in humanity that inspires naught but faith in hope in your kind. You come upon fresh shores, rich and teeming with life and abundance, even combinations of colors you had never supposed!

And thus many go, all they go who know they must, 

Set out with muster to abandon safe harbor, or vagaries thereof. 

For winds blow to those at sea, not to those moored in misery,

But secure. Out of port, out onto a sea of uncertainty,  

Carried forth by the steady breeze and sunshine of kind humanity

Riding upon the wind, to where it knows they must go 

(To those who know) It will take them

For you see, gentle readers, safety is an illusion. The harshest dangers we fear exist for those in proximity as well to those far away. The hurricanes that do the most damage always wreck as many ships at harbor as those set sail.

Travel

We all desire this. We all desire to move and expand our horizons. Some seek travel as a means of pleasure. Others seek it as a rite of passage. Countless souls long to become a better person for their travels. With reasons all our own, many will go forth to find what this huge, magnificent world we call Earth can offer them. As such, we all are the captains of our own ship. Above that, only each of us has the star-map to our own vessels. Each route we travel is our own. I have traveled for all the above reasons. However, upon explaining the purpose of this blog to a new friend, I realized that the most beautiful reason to travel is to give love. How many people do all this travel because what they get out of it more than anything is love: experiencing love of mankind and receiving the love of others. I think of the many travel documentaries I have watched, whether by land or sea, and how often I see the purity and sincerity of travelers' interactions with another, especially those traveling on little-to-no money. I think of my own travels last year. The greatest thing I experienced was not the landscape, but "the love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men." Perhaps that is what draws people out of their home ports, embarking on strange and stormy seas, being fed on the love of perfect strangers. I list one a quote from one of my favorite books

[Mark] was twenty-one years old and had just graduated from Swarthmore with a degree in agricultural science, a major they did not offer but one he'd put together for himself out of classes in biology, chemistry, and economics. He wanted to see what farming was like across America, and to see what rural life was like, and he wanted to see it up close. He set off from his parents house in New Paltz, his bicycle loaded down with a tent and a change of clothes, and rode west. It was summer, and he told his grandmother he'd spend Christmas with her at her home in California. He took very little money with him, partly because he had very little money at the time and apartly because he had a sense that money would insulate him from his adventure. The first week of his trip he rode two days through a difficult patch of construction in New Jersey, feling frazzled by the noise of trucks and by the heat bouncing off the asphalt. Late one afternoon he saw a hiker coming toward him on the other side of the road, loaded down with gear that looked a lot like his. His name was Carl and he'd come from Seattle, biking the same route that Mark was just setting out on, but in the opposite direction. Carl told Mark what an awful trip he was about to have, what an awful country America was, rife with mean-spirited people and patrolled by bully cops who were just looking for an excuse to give you trouble. Then they went their separate ways, Carl pointed east, with Mark's parents' address in his pocket, and Mark pointed west. . . The rest of the trip was exactly like that, full of good people offering food and shelter and kindness, genuine kindness. At the end of his day of travel Mark would look for a certain type of farm, with a garden, not too big and not too polished, but in good repair, without the whiff of desperation. He'd knock on a farmhouse door and ask if it would be all right to camp somewhere on their place. He was never refused, not once. Nine times out of ten the door would open and the next thing he knew he'd be saying grace with a family at their dinner table, and soon after he'd find himself tucked into a bed in the guest room. He'd often spend a day or two working on the place, and in this way he saw all sorts of different farms and met all kinds of farm families. He saw feed lots and citrus plantations. he hoed beans on a small-scale organic vegetable farm and rode a combine through a thousand acres of corn, the corn pouring out of the machine like a smooth gold river. He stopped to get maps at a Chamber of Commerce in the middle of country, and the man at the desk went out to the car and came back with a pack of new socks. 'Here,' he said, 'You always need a good socks on a trip like this.' He stayed four or five days with a family that grew corn and beans in Indiana. The wife, Connie, ran a beauty salon, and after Mark was fed and rested she took him into town and sat him in her chair and washed his hair, twice, because the water was still brown after the first washing, and then she gave him a haircut. Connie still sends him Christmas cards, pictures of her grandkids tucked inside. I'd seen them, so I knew it was true.

I remember meeting people throughout my travels, and I often marveled at the look in their eyes and pondered, "what do they seek? They are looking for something. What??" We seek to experience love in its purity. That is what our soul hungers for. Tale after tale of wanderers I have crossed reveals that what they find more than anything else is the pure love of Christ, manifested in the kind words and deeds of God's children. Respect is love. Civility is love. We ask and plead for it always.
You also come to see the silly majesty of the children of this earth. I just made a bus I could not afford to miss be cause a man with a heavy stupid-looking electric bicycle need it to be wheelchair-lifted onto the bus, and the bus driver was new and never had to do that before, and he kept telling this pretty young newcomer how to do it and it bugged her, you could tell. All the people on the bus got a kick out of it. You always remember the moments you are on fire, consumed spiritually by the playful grandeur of this world-weave, and, just like a child's, your body is affected with tremors and sheer excitability. I loved my night in Denver after meeting the salt-and-pepper-mustached high old man, with a child's smile as big as Texas, and telling it to my friend as I climbed the stairs of a hotel where I'd stay the night with a friend. I was on fire too that morning in Salt Lake City, the wind ripping through the rail-way-lined streets, wild pre-sunrise air checking the heat in my face. Now, going back to my point about how the traveler seeks love more than anything else, I would pose a question: Why does the proverbial Jack Doe who goes traveling, gets nice hotels, plans his sight-seeing and event-attending as if he were still back home at a job, takes airplanes to and from destinations returns from his trip wanting to go back and do it again, or wondering why things weren't more wonderful during their venture? I would call your attention back to the story from "The Dirty Life". The aforementioned Mr. Doe interacted with objects aplenty, it is true. He also spend much hard-earned capital. What he failed to realize that the services and comforts he received also insulated him from other people. His materials abounded, and his increase in relationships was wanting. When I traveled with little funds, I got love. I got relationships. And I was able to give. When you allow yourself to be vulnerable, the love comes. As it is in Christian Theology, so it is upon God's earth. My greyhound ride back was much better this time because I thrived not on the comfort of the seats, but on the comfort and warmth of the smiles and kinship of those beside me. We travel for the thrills it is true, but what of the soul? Does it render us a better person, a holier disciple?

Homeless

As I planned this post, I thought of the words of our Savior, born to transient parents in Bethlehem, who responded to a would-be disciple with these words:

The snakes have dens, and the foxes have holes, but the Son of Man hath nowhere to lay his head.

I met a variety of people today, who in my mind were exactly as I: without abode. Darrell, the wandering invalid. Max, by Blessed Heart Catholic Church, the Job of Denver. Ron, the content bum, having mastered his lot, lay in a sleeping bag by a walking trail. Gary, the established wino with his own "little piece of heaven" as I called it, nestled between a brick wall and a small fenced-in grassy plot, complete with a tent (I only saw all this due to the fact that I walked down the hill from the Interstate overlooking his kingdom). A whole community of homeless people at the shelter, who had the pleasure of getting a hot meal  (boy was it good!), which made me completely open to the idea of being "stuck" for a few days longer. A lot more hope and excitement than you might think would exist in such a dining hall. Strangely, it had the same animated feel of the shelter where I volunteered in California during my 2-year mission for Christ, serving food to these precious souls. And finally, the homeless gentleman who goes un-named. He was so high, and all smiles. He was in his 60s or 70s, served in Viet-nam, and had a booger laying on his salt-and-pepper mustache. He laughed with the eyes of a child. His smile was the kind that lights you up. Oh goodness, I'll never forget him.  He was the most adorable little homeless man I've ever seen in my life! I feel that once I was entirely open to associating, such to accept a hot meal from kind strangers, that Denver became not just a city but a gathering of God's beautiful children, no matter their station in life. I can honestly see how people get comfortable in it, though there is no reason to take up apathy and sloth alongside it. The next morning I got a ride out to Utah. I took it easy, and basked on the side of the highway, eating a simple meal. I think of the words of King Benjamin,

Behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not depend on that same being, even God, for all the substance which we do have?

These words penetrate my heart. I always want to have something I can give. I always want to have something I can give to anybody in general, whether starved of food or fondness for another.  

Hunger for the Infinite

There is much in the the universe that we don't know. Not even Mr. Smith knew what lay at the end of time and space.

As I said before, we know multi-folds more of the outer world than the inner world. The world of what and who Human is . . . That is something we may not know much of, at least in this life. One thing that we love is touching the infinite. This is why we make art. This is why we transpose music. This is why we engage in sacred dance. We feel a great thrill and an intrepid sense wonder in what some men have called "cheating death". From the moment our ancestors first painted on cave walls, we have achieved a very real sense of immortality. This is one of the greatest reasons I blog, and why I have printed out many of my posts. One's pulse may cease, one's body may moulder in the grave, but if they so desire, they may live on, even forever! You may find this all a bit too meta-physical, but consider how a few key individuals have died hundreds and thousands of years ago, and we are still talking about them and their ideas. Were you to argue with me concerning a belief in God or the immortality of the soul, you'd simply be re-incarnating an age old idea of atheism. The first preacher of atheism lives on through you! Think of the phrase, "To be or not to be." Ol' Bill Shakespeare lives on through millions of people today. People's words and ideas have won them immortality for ages. Think of George Washington, John Harrison, Martin Luther, even Jesus the Christ. Civilizations will spend time procuring the necessities of life, yes, but far, far more resources and thought in what lies here-after, and what our potential is. Why, the Egyptians spent a thousand years trying to solve the mystery of death. I believe that one of the big reasons why we are here is to think of those sorts of things -- to simply think. I love spending time thinking, meditating, attempting to unlock parts of my self and mind. Anything dubbed "entertainment" that assists with this process I consider worthy of my time. Leisure time can be just as productive (and sometimes, moreso!) as labor. Anything that lends to this "cheating death" and fosters our hunger for the infinite is considered of me to be the noblest of pursuits.

Open-ness

The Universe is pouring water from a infinitesimally-voluminous pitcher of water, just for you. How big a cup did you bring?

I met a gentleman by the name of Javier in my travels. We talk for four hours the first night we met.  Shamanism, sacred geometry, psychedelics intended for use in ancient religious rite. This guy believes some very out-there some things. Wait. . . but I myself believe some very out-there things. But, I talk as an ignorant man. Ignorance, after all, is only the product of believing one knows all that they need to know, or therefore one who is closed to new information. I've always found myself a bit different than my peers (whether you consider my family, Mormons, or business associates), and I believe the main difference is this: I refuse to think inside the box. I am open to new ideas. And since my mind is not in the box, couldn't you say that my mind's ideas are indeed. . out there?? ;)
Now we didn't believe in everything the other had to report, but we did agree that more often than not, we were channeling spiritual truth. It was a great conversation, which continued as another African-American gentleman arrived at the work exchange, who had spiritual roots in voodoo and other similar healing arts. On my travels, I have had the opportunity to meet those outside the Church who claimed spiritual powers. Me and Javier acknowledged that there are forces of good and evil lending themselves to many people, according as they advertised their availability as a channel by their actions (do ill, invite negative energy into your life. Do good, invite positive energy into your life.). Some simply learn how to channel that energy more specifically. We also agreed -- and the spirit of truth seemed to accord -- that good (white magic) will always conquer evil (dark magic).
I have always been slow to shun powers and ideas outside of my understanding. With an open mind and enough mental exertion, one can extract the truth of what another says (as "out there" as they may be) and politely disregard the rest, not applying it to one's life. This world is just too exciting to limit oneself to the common or mundane. Excitement, spiritual renewal, mental stimulation, and touching experiences await at every corner! If God has made me to be free, why would I look down or settle for less? Gentle reader, the pitcher is indeed tilted, and water is cascading forth, even now. Is your vessel open??

Trust

This is a long overdue post that began in the events of this Monday. . .
I went up to Salt Lake City, trying to make a little more money. I always think about the principle of trust when I am on the train. You can see the level of it that people have for strangers from the moment you make eye contact. Where the quick look-away diverts your attention to the next set of eyes, the longer (though still brief) look of relaxed trust draws you near and even is indicative of romance if the gaze is sent by way of the opposite gender. Our ability to trust is often influenced (though not defined) by how trustworthy those of our first social experiences have been. I personally have had wonderful parents who were always reliable, and I love people, so trust comes easy for me. I came to the conclusion in my high-school years that trusting others is its own reward. I came up with this moniker as part of my foundation of life-philosophy in response to the relentless onslaught of those around me criticizing me for being "gullable," "easily-fooled," and "naive." The words of Mother Theresa come to mind

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered / Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives / Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies /Succeed anyway / If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you / Be honest and frank anyway / What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway / If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous / Be happy anyway / The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow / Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough / Give the world the best you've got anyway / You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God / It was never between you and them anyway.

 It isn't about whether or not people take advantage of my trust (though in things I can't get back, such as possessions, money, and data, I am trusting but balance it with a bit of wisdom, in that I don't open opportunities for the weaknesses of others to be exposed). The amount of stress -- not to mention the relationships, life-lessons, and opportunities lost -- caused by fearing others, in my mind, is not a healthy exchange for the occasional hurt/loss of emotions and materials. That leads me to an extrapolation of first-underlined statement. I was speaking with a friend (who is kind to me in my writing) about some time she spent in Japan. She told me of how much openness and kindness the people there possess. In other words, she sensed that trust came easier for them. I told her, "If trusting people is its own reward, then isn't distrusting people its own punishment." I bask in what another friend, in his 60s and in the pinnacle of health, mentioned over the phone in the midst of my adventures in the Appalachian autumn :

I traveled 11,000 miles across America when I was a young adult, and I met this man who had been to all 210-odd sovereign nations, and he reported what I had believed all along. . . That people are good, want to help, are just wonderful. If only we would stop watching the news we might see it.

Beautiful! I just laughed and laughed in delight at that. What gets in the way of the human relationship? Fear. Distrust, a product of fear. And call me strident, but isn't that the only principle the news media presents? To quote Charles, "That's all they teach you. Be afraid. Be afraid. Nope, no, be afraid." I don't engage in it because it teaches the antithesis of this post's title. Another word for trust is faith. We can have faith in Deity. We can also, and must also for the flowering of any joyful human interaction, have faith in one another. Faith and fear cannot coexist in the same emotional space. One must vacate the other, or be overtaken by the other, by its converse. And what's worse, when we cease to trust, we cease to grow. Distrust indeed is its own dereliction.

Community

I spent a little more than a weekend up in Black Mountain, North Carolina. I drove through the Swannanoa Valley to get there, and every time I pass into that bless-ed valley, I get this special feeling. It hits me every time, and I derive this unique vitality from its simple beauty and spiritual cleanliness. I didn't completely come up here for this, though. I rode my little moped some dozen hours (did a little side travel, so not a direct course there) to experience my favorite music festival, Lake Eden Arts Festival (LEAF). For those unfamiliar with these, they often involve a campground becoming a small community for three to four days, along with everything (drugs, music, camping, dancing) you might expect except for crime and animosity. Just peace and love. Now LEAF is family friendly, and of the almost non-existent smoking that goes on, 'tis merely tobacco. And LEAF is what I'd call a multicultural festival. Its gathering of variety and eclecticism is nothing short of genius. For example, in one day, you can go listen to Tim O'Brien, Tuvan throat singers, Bootsy Collins (with his Funk Unity Band) , contra dance, go on a medicinal nature walk, practice yoga, learn about aromatherapy, play on a large chess board, and eat food from every ethnicity you can imagine. People are friendly (more so than usual), the mountains are beautiful, the dancing and song are uplifting and moving, and the healing arts are inspiring. Now, as that as a backdrop, I'd like to discuss the idea of community.
I wanted to point out, firstly, about how you can live close to so many people and not get to know them at all. There are two reasons: Those people have little common interests, and they are closed to interacting. At LEAF, people are open to interact, and there is shared interests, despite the great variety. Like a healthy ecosystem -- where there is room for a variety of plant, animal, fungus, bacteria, and virus species to thrive with great diversity -- people are most strong as a group when they unite in their diversity. Take a close look, and you'll find that those who are intolerant of human diversity -- those with different religions, ethnicity, and culture (even different sports teams) -- care little for biodiversity and their natural environment. Vise-versa is just as eye-opening of an indicator. When we take all of the gifts, viewpoints, and experiences that our Creator has shared with us, and do not suppress them, but let them flower -- when we pattern our social circles after the diverse, yet unified and inter-dynamic Mother Nature -- that is when community can take place.
As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ (LDS), I am so inspired when I see how the Church unites people from all backgrounds in a faith in Christ and testimony of the reality of His modern messengers, and encourages them to bring their traditions and diversity into the Church. I believe that good and evil are the only two spiritual forces, but I am no ways a dualist when it comes to spirituality. Because I believe God is full of light and truth, I recognize that light, white light, is comprised of dozens of colors, no. . . Thousands of colors! With even one color missing, it is not purely white. And I think the people at LEAF feel this sentiment in their soul more than most of their peers. They are not offended by the rainbow colors of truth from many sources. One of my favorite Church leaders, Neal A. Maxwell, talks of truth in a similar way (think of the fore-linked-to prism image)

The scriptures offer us so many doctrinal diamonds. And when the light of the Spirit plays upon their several facets, they sparkle with celestial sense and illuminate the path we are to follow.

 Back to my experience in this "rainbow" gathering. Consider a community where people simply look out for one another, and where needs are seen and met. People at LEAF give me confidence in humanity in the same way that traveling the country-side did. Within a few hours of setting up camp, I was offered food, friendship, and shelter, as I helped people set up their tents. It was a rainy weekend. I had to hang my sleeping bag up to dry, and someone offered to help. It began raining later that day and I rushed back to my campsite to get my draped bag out of the rain. It had already been moved inside a neighbor's shelter. So kind of them! One even recognized me walking by on the way back to the campsite and told me the good news. Another man was warm to my walking into his tent shelter, expressing interest in his guitar playing. He invited me to bring my guitar and complimented me and built my confidence as I played him a tune. Another group, after talking with them for a bit, allowed me to use their skillet to cook a meal. I left the festival on the last day (I had to stay the next day. I was volunteering and they had me work on monday) and came back in the evening. It never even crossed my mind that a few of my critical/expensive belongings were with someone's property. I simply trust people, especially where there is community (I even was able to procure some extra gasoline from a group of people breaking down the festival when I discovered that my moped was fresh out!). You may argue, "These people will never see you again," or "you don't even know these people! Why are you asking favors of them?" I could debate these two examples, but I will only say this: The idea of community, (whose king-pin is trust) once established, helps people understand that others around them need to be loved and respected too. No amount of law, legislation, and tactical security measures can create community --  a true community -- if people refuse to trust. I believe that trust, when given with an open heart, opens the possibility of the flourishing of community. The only time I came close to making enemies is when I occasionally disallowed diversity, on the morally shaky grounds that what they stood for or wished to do -- or rather what I assumed as such -- was wrong. We often do not know the intention of others. The more I learn to assume the best in others and create community, the more our colors mix and our co-existence flourishes in the biodiversity of God's spiritual/physical world.

Believing is Seeing

I am mulling over the feeling I got when a good friend said "the more I reach out and put myself out there, the more I see the goodness and kindness of people. I keep getting more of it." I am feeling those great greyhound realizations afresh as I ride the bus in my old hometown, feeling the sweetness, goodness, and sublime ignorance of the people all around me. How much greater to see this in the world, but how much greater to feel it in your home-town! The timeless wisdom from scripture enters my mind:

I ought not to harrow up in my desires the firm decree of a just God, for I know that he granteth unto men according to their desire whether it be unto death or unto life;

The Lord allows us to get what we look for with our hearts. You could say that as true as "what you see is what you get" is the reverse: what you get is what you see. Consider these next words in conjunction with the first quote:

raised to endless happiness to inherit the kingdom of God, or to endless misery to inherit the kingdom of the devil, the one on one hand, the other on the other — The one raised to happiness according to his desires of happiness, or good according to his desires of good; and the other to evil according to his desires of evil; for as he has desired to do evil all the day long even so shall he have his reward of evil when the night cometh.

These words, to me, can be seen in the light of what we are looking for. Those whose overture on the human race is generally negative can surely be congratulated for seeking diligently, but for the negative. As harsh as this sounds, it is a natural result of the decree of God: Seek and ye shall find. . . He granteth unto men according to their desire. What my friend is saying matches perfectly with what I have unfolded. We seek for and expect good, we get good. In the converse, do you know those who always seem miserable and have an endless supply of tragedy and trouble, and you are tempted to say in contempt, "you seem to just attract trouble". This is sad, but I believe is true. But the good news is that, while our lives will not always be happy, we can attract the good and the things born of light into our lives by our desires/expectations and how our actions demonstrate those desires.

Greyhound

 "I can feel their goodness" I remarked. Their tender, witty, intelligent, tired, odorful selves, selfing along, unaware of my smiles and admiration, I humble and almost embarrassed of their intermittent awe and respect for me. I met an ex-military 20-something who told me all about Kuwait and the Constitution. Talked a good deal with a young amiable (yet mild) Cherokee person coming all the way from central California to Fort Smith, AK, whose grandma practices ancient medicine and who loves heavy metal. A black bus driver who whooped and hollered more than all the passengers put together, and was so kind. A middle-aged lady from Denver in a wheel-chair who loved helping others in her small way. A woman just offered me the rest of her snack after hearing me talk about hunger over the phone with a friend. I found finally and for all the goodness of women and men from all of America. More to come, but this would make a perfect ending

My (then) new friend (turned new love) had made the journey east from Arizona a week prior via greyhound. She gladly spoke of how those who ride that bus are often poor and don't have much, but they have been through so much hardship that the friendships you make on that bus can become lifelong, because they will have your back when need be, and they have compassion. She says she remembers almost no like interactions while riding an airplane, what an insight. I definitely understood that within the first two hours. I also saw the weakness and fragility of humankind. I also remembered a platitude that I had bucked against in the past: that those with money are usually far more moral than those without. Think about how much crime is associated with cities and poor neighborhoods. Think about how homeless are treated like criminals. We in America, and many other other developed nations live in a mindset (which I am confident is shaped by those who everything to gain by preaching such repugnant ideas) where if one isn't consuming or selling, they are of no use to society, and thus deserve exile. You may have heard it as ," if you aren't going to buy anything, please leave," or " you need to get a job so you can contribute to society." As if our income determined our outcome! It is the same mindset that lost trust in some of those I visited in California. Comments such as "why are you bicycling all those hundreds of miles?! Don't you have a car? Its hard for me to be comfortable with that. There seems to be something strange about that," as if low expenditure of money was the product of vice rather than virtue! We are trained to distrust those with little money. "They must be on the run from the law," we might be tempted to think were we to be fooled by those in financial power who would have us worshipping (or otherwise being distracted by) their god The Economy -- all simply because that individual chooses to lay low and have little to no fluid assets. 

I must be upfront and relentless about this, for that is the nature by which the antithesis has been shown me. Of those who would ask how tough it was to do all this in the coldest season, I would reply briefly:

It was the warmest winter of my life.

 As I finish my journey west (far removed from the post date, i finished mid-February) I close this chapter with timeless wisdom that has been written upon my heart since my first motion of this kind in the autumn of '09

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your Heavenly Father knoweth  that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. 

Lord, I Would Follow Thee

Hello gentle readers,
I wanted to express a few of the thoughts in my mind as of recent.
I found myself in New Mexico, and came to love Albuquerque, the winds blowing the desert grasses along the rolling highlands at the foot of the 10,000 foot mountains, the snow having just been blown away by the sun. I feel my life has begun anew. I feel like the mountain flower, the Acony Bell

Well it makes its home mid the rocks and the rills
Where the snow lies deep on the windy hills
And it tells the world "Why should I wait
This ice and snow is gonna melt away"

 I placed my tent for later, and took a bus back to the northwest side of town. I was talking with the driver, who said that this is a beautiful state. I got to thinking that everywhere I go, that is the consensus: "This land is beautiful!" and if we can almost everywhere say that about the land, why can we not say that about those who eat from, breathe in, and take into their eyes that very earth? While I tend to remain neutral here as far as religious parties goes (though the assumed consensus of common ground is a belief in Jesus Christ), I wish to express some words from one of the leaders of my Church who has since passed. Howard W. Hunter says

After his father became ill, Vern Crowley took responsibility for running the family wrecking yard although he was only fifteen years of age. Some customers occasionally took unfair advantage of the young man, and parts were disappearing from the lot overnight. Vern was angry and vowed to catch someone and make an example of him. Vengeance would be his.

Just after his father had started to recover from his illness, Vern was making his rounds of the yard one night at closing time. It was nearly dark. In a distant corner of the property, he caught sight of someone carrying a large piece of machinery toward the back fence. He ran like a champion athlete and caught the young thief. His first thought was to take out his frustrations with his fists and then drag the boy to the front office and call the police. His heart was full of anger and vengeance. He had caught his thief, and he intended to get his just dues.

Out of nowhere, Vern’s father came along, put his weak and infirm hand on his son’s shoulder, and said, “I see you’re a bit upset, Vern. Can I handle this?” He then walked over to the young would-be thief and put his arm around his shoulder, looked him in the eye for a moment, and said, “Son, tell me, why are you doing this? Why were you trying to steal that transmission?” Then Mr. Crowley started walking toward the office with his arm around the boy, asking questions about the young man’s car problems as they walked. By the time they had arrived at the office, the father said, “Well, I think your clutch is gone and that’s causing your problem.”

In the meantime, Vern was fuming. “Who cares about his clutch?” he thought. “Let’s call the police and get this over with.” But his father just kept talking. “Vern, get him a clutch. Get him a throwout bearing, too. And get him a pressure plate. That should take care of it.” The father handed all of the parts to the young man who had attempted robbery and said, “Take these. And here’s the transmission, too. You don’t have to steal, young man. Just ask for it. There’s a way out of every problem. People are willing to help.”

Brother Vern Crowley said he learned an everlasting lesson in love that day. The young man came back to the lot often. Voluntarily, month by month, he paid for all of the parts Vic Crowley had given him, including the transmission. During those visits he asked Vern why his dad was the way he was and why he did what he did. Vern told him something of their Latter-day Saint beliefs and how much his father loved the Lord and loved people. Eventually the would-be thief was baptized. Vern later said, “It’s hard now to describe the feelings I had and what I went through in that experience. I, too, was young. I had caught my crook. I was going to extract the utmost penalty. But my father taught me a different way.”

He also said that " Those who are filled with the love of Christ do not seek to force others to do better; they inspire others to do better, indeed inspire them to the pursuit of God." I think about that statement, "people are willing to help." I just spent a few days with a family, and each of them were so willing to be kind and assume the best in me. I learn of others I am returning to from back home, how a new friend of mine says that they have nothing but good to say about me. She also tells of her experience riding a Greyhound as opposed to flying:

When you ride the airplane, people don't want to talk to you, they are in their own world. Some of the best friends I've made are on that bus. You talk with some of them, and their lives are so hard, yet they are so willing to reach out and understand you, and they will have your backs

 Indeed, "A friend loveth at all times. And a brother is born for adversity."
I played one of my favorite hymns at church today, which is Lord I Would Follow Thee. One of the lyrics hit me, it sings:

Savior, Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can't see

I think of how we are all fighting a hard battle. We need each other. It took my most of my life to figure that out, but all things are new, and I'm looking forward to what's next.

ανέξοδος. . .Liberalis . . . חינם

Today, I'd like to touch on one thing we all want and intensely desire:
Freedom.

Think of it. The righteous who truly understand the purpose of God's commandments obey to obtain it. The wicked disobey, seeking freedom from what they deem "restrictive rules". Over history, we have seen in a thousand instances scores of lives lost because a people wished to be free, the same people who had everything else -- water, food, shelter, loved ones -- and went to war, dying fighting to be free rather than living under bondage. This universal desire of all living things (even arguably non-living things) was a critical factor in the founding of the American Colonies. Due to my religious persuasion, may I even share how this emerges in ancient scripture:

1) And the Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may
redeem the children of men from the fall.  And because that they
are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing
good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon,
save it be by the punishment of the law at the great and last
day, according to the commandments which God hath given. 

Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all
things are given them which are expedient unto man.  And they 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; for he seeketh that all
men might be miserable like unto himself.

2) And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.

What a transcendent word! And how fitting of a descriptor, for this is what we are after, the transcendent principles and dispositions of humankind -- the barrier-removers. I talked with a well-enlightened individual while I was in California. I met him on my mission, and I returned to the same immaculate and open one-room apartment he lived in. He had a refrigerator, stove, even desk and personal computer, but dishes, clothes, books, and random items you come to expect in a lived-in space were completely absent -- all neatly tucked away in cabinets and closed closets. The ratio of square footage of the room to walking space was nearly 1:1. He knows I've come to California and have bicycled across the Central Valley and along the Pacific Coast. Him and his friend have this great interchange (names are changed):

Paul: I can't come over tonight, a friend is coming over to talk
Norman: What? Who?
Paul: A missionary who served here a while ago. He called me up and said [in essense], "Hey I'm in town. I've always thought you were really interesting, so I'd love to come and say hi".
Norman: What?! So he just called and randomly wants to come over.
P: Yeah, so. . .
N: So aren't you afraid he is trying to convert you? That he just wants to make you a Mormon?
P: No. No. He's just coming to talk
N: So, what's the deal, is he gay? He just shows up out of nowhere.
P: Can't it just be that I'm interesting? What? So I'm not interesting?
N: (laughs, realizing Paul is playfully dodging the gist of the questions) No, no, of course its not that. But don't you think its just a little odd that he pops in like this?
P: He's a sincere and upfront person. He was that way when I met him a year ago. I'm glad to have him come over and talk about life.

I step inside and we get to talking. There is little to no conversation about people, places, or things -- just ideas. I could talk to him for ages. We get to talking about freedom. He says, "We are all seeking freedom. We all find different ways of getting it. Like me, with my room. I'm free from clutter and unburdened by things. You, with your bicycle, seeing the country-side". And he is too correct. Isn't that such a deep-seated desire?
I had some incredible experiences to this tune over the past couple of days, but I will have to wait until I get the consent of those involved before I share. Check back soon! Life is an endless tapestry of the most beautiful threads, and never stops being woven nor patch-worked to other weaves!

I'm Trying To Be Like Jesus

I'm trying to be like Jesus
I'm following in His ways
I'm trying to love as He did
In all that I do and say
At times I am tempted to make a wrong choice, but I try to listen to the still small voice, saying
"Love one another as Jesus loves you
Try to show kindness in all that you do
Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought,
For these are the things Jesus taught"
Anyone that knows me understands how I dart about, offering little but confusion to those watching. today, my first time in an unfamiliar building, was no exception. A man stopped me identified himself as security and asked my name. i was somewhat perturbed. Perhaps he was only trying to help. Perhaps he was trying to remove people that weren't supposed to be there. Either way, it tried my patience.
Later, in the temple, i felt a great sense of God's love. I thought of Richard G. Scott's talk where he said

Life may seem difficult now, but hold tightly to that iron rod of truth. You are making better progress than you realize

and simply took comfort in it for my own self. While in the temple chapel today, I really came to see this truth as applied to all of those in that temple that day. So many are making great progress and should be seen as certainly imperfect, yet often a little bit better than they were yesterday, a better person than they were last month, than last year. And if that feeling of love The Lord sent to my heart, allowing me to feel that He possesses towards me. . . Wait!! He really feels that way about everyone?! The man to my right, and the lady behind me. For a moment I saw it again, I understood with my heart and soul. What could have merely been a personal comfort became a vehicle for mercy and love for my fellow man. We feel these incredible emotions and this great love from time to time in our life. The question is, what will we do with it? This segment of Mr Kreuger's Christmas illustrates what I felt that day in the temple.