My "other" blog

New post on my other blog today--the one I don't mind people other than friends and family reading. At least that's the idea. I only made it public today. Check it out. I write about feminism and the new age requirement for sister missionaries.

sometimes in september . . .

you realize 

there is almost nothing left of the chocolate you bought 

in Germany in May

and it's sad

like the end of summer

but worse

because instead of the consolation of fall--

crisp and lovely, full of soup and tea and sweaters--

you have only
empty wrappers

holds upon happiness

“What beautiful hyacinths! I have just learnt to love a hyacinth.”

“And how might you learn? By accident or argument?”

“Your sister taught me; I cannot tell how. Mrs. Allen used to take pains, year after year, to make me like them; but I never could, till I saw them the other day in Milsom Street; I am naturally indifferent about flowers.”

“But now you love a hyacinth. So much the better. You have gained a new source of enjoyment, and it is well to have as many holds upon happiness as possible."

--Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney in Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey

Some things that I love doing are . . .

Having tea time with my roommate Michelle and anyone else who decides to join us.

Cleaning a room.

Eating chocolate. Or ice cream. Or guacamole with lime chips. Or salsa with lime chips. Or Thai food. Food brings me lots and lots of happiness.

Teaching at BYU.

Meeting with students to discuss their concerns about class and life.

Reading. I've long loved reading novels, but recent years have taught me to love reading poetry, compositional and rheotrical theory, nonfiction, and the news (especially opinion pieces).

Listening to NPR, the Mormon Channel, and other podcasts.

Sitting outside in the hour before sunset.

Being awake in the still of the early morning.

Talking with my family.

Sitting in the Celestial Room of any temple.

Emailing and receiving emails from my family (oh those delightful family email chains . . . ).

Visiting cemeteries. (I learned this one over the summer while visiting cemeteries in Massachusetts, Europe, and small Utah towns. Thanks, Sam.)

Writing journal entries, lists, thank you notes, blog posts, and, yes, even assignment sheets.

Getting absorbed in a meaningful conversation.

Laughing with good friends.

Listening in on strangers' conversations.

Browsing through books in a bookstore, touching the spines and feeling the pages, hmmming and smiling over the excerpts I read.

To me, each of these things is about an experience of calm. All of them cause me to slow down and reflect on how rich and good my life actually is and how kind and wonderful the people are around me really are and how numerous and personal my gifts from God have been. And maybe that's what happiness is? The experience of stopping to see the reality of the good God has woven into your life?

This e. e. cummings' poem captures my gratitude for these experiences well:

i thank You God for most this amazing 

day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees 

and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything 

which is natural which is infinite which is yes 

Yes.

a furious wind

In my scripture study today, I read in Ether 6 and the following verses stood out in a way they haven't before:

5 And it came to pass that the Lord God caused that there should be a furious wind blow upon the face of the waters, towards the promised land; and thus they were tossed upon the waves of the sea before the wind.
 6 And it came to pass that they were many times buried in the depths of the sea, because of the mountain waves which broke upon them, and also the great and terrible tempests which were caused by the fierceness of the wind.
 7 And it came to pass that when they were buried in the deep there was no water that could hurt them, their vessels being tight like unto a dish, and also they were tight like unto the ark of Noah; therefore when they were encompassed about by many waters they did cry unto the Lord, and he did bring them forth again upon the top of the waters.
 8 And it came to pass that the wind did never cease to blow towards the promised land while they were upon the waters; and thus they were driven forth before the wind.
 9 And they did sing praises unto the Lord; yea, the brother of Jared did sing praises unto the Lord, and he did thank and praise the Lord all the day long; and when the night came, they did not cease to praise the Lord.
 10 And thus they were driven forth; and no monster of the sea could break them, neither whale that could mar them; and they did have light continually, whether it was above the water or under the water. (emphasis added)

 As I read this, it struck me that the wind is described as "furious" and "fierce"--how uncomfortable it must have been in those barges, being pushed by the wind and tossed and turned in the waves. And yet, it is the very furiousness of the wind that takes them towards the promised land and takes them there more quickly. We can think of our trials as being like this--they don't need to be obstacles that block us from arriving at our destination (although I think they can be obstacles depending on how we react to them). Instead of obstacles, trials and difficulties can be the very means of arriving at our destination. If our goal in mortality is to become like God--to follow Christ's example and emulate his attributes--then what better way to arrive than experience tempests and difficulties that test our patience, brotherly kindness, humility, and other Christlike attributes?

I'm also impressed by the fact that, despite the furious wind, these people were protected--no water could hurt them, no monster of the sea could break them, neither whale could mar them. Instead, they had light continually. As a result of preparing for their journey, these people were ready to meet the storms. God gave them a secure ship and light to live by.

He gives me the same.

charity, self-esteem, and shared identity

Recently, I read Falling to Heaven by James L. Farrell. I've previously read Farrell's The Peacegiver and The Holy Secret. I'm always impressed by his insights into the gospel. Most of what he writes is so common sense and it's all scripturally based, but some of the insights still take me by surprise.

In the introduction (or is it the first chapter?) of Falling to Heaven, Farrell makes a point that has fundamentally changed the way I think about charity. He shares an experience about sitting in a sacrament meeting talk one day where the speaker was emphasizing the importance of loving ourselves. He asked himself where in the scriptures we are encouraged to love ourselves. He also spent a lot of time post-hearing-this-talk looking for references in the scriptures to Christ's self-love.

He couldn't find any.

The only scripture he found that could be read as referring to self-love was the oft-repeated commandment to love others as we love ourselves (the implication being that we must love ourselves if we're going to love others). Farrell suggests that Christ wasn't at all concerned with loving himself, but only with loving His Father and with loving us. When the scriptures talk about loving others as we love ourselves, it's referring to the fact that we must see others' pain as our own and celebrate others' accomplishments as our own--not that we need to focus on self-love. In other words, we need to seek to be so unified with the people around us--have our hearts knit together so closely with theirs--that there isn't a difference between what happens to them and what happens to us. This is what God's love for us is about: He fully experiences our pain as His own pain. His sense of self is broad enough to include all others--it looks outward, not inward.

Now, being the rhetoric nerd that I am, this concept immediately brought to mind Kenneth Burke's concept of identification. Burke writes that identification is about seeing what is alike between yourself and another person or an entire group of people. There is one major obstacle to identification, however, according to Burke: “[A]lthough I as a person may sympathetically identify myself with other people’s pleasures and pains, in my nature as a sheer body the pleasures of my food and the pains of my toothache are experienced by me alone” ("The Rhetorical Situation," Communication: Ethical and Moral Issues, 265-66). Because we inhabit separate bodies, we can't fully identify with one another. This is one of challenges of living in mortality in a physical body.

But the miracle of the Atonement is that one separate, individual body (the body of Christ) was able to fully inhabit and experience the separate, individual pains of billions of people. Christ bridged the gap of the inability of one body to connect with another body. He is one with the Father and Holy Ghost, and He can be one with us, as he prayed for in his intercessory prayer, if we will follow His example and receive His love.

How do we receive? I think we have to be willing to love as He did. We have to live the two great commandments. We have to lose ourselves in loving and serving God and others in order to find ourselves. This is why Moroni writes so urgently that we need to pray with all energy of heart for the love of Christ. Charity helps us to find better versions of ourselves. In loving others and following Christ, we become the children of Christ--part of his family. We take upon ourselves His identity--quite literally: we take upon ourselves His name--and in so doing we become one with Him and the Father. It's this perfect and complete connection with God and those around us that constitutes true charity. It's also what I believe heaven will be all about.

Wrapping up Boston

I'm leaving Boston for Dublin in just a few short hours! I thought I should wrap up my discussion of Boston before I forget all about it in the next few weeks.

On Thursday, I saw the awesome Boston Public Library, considered taking the eucharist at the Trinity Church but decided against it, and walked most of the Freedom Trail while clutching some Dunkin' Donuts mint hot chocolate (it was chilly). The Freedom Trail was fun. I saw lots of interesting historical sites--many of which were related to Paul Revere and his midnight ride.

After the Freedom Trail, I met up with Patrick and we went to Regina's Pizzeria in the North End. Apparently lots of famous people have eaten there. I know this because their signed photos were on the wall. Rob Lowe and Leonardo DiCaprio apparently think it's the best pizza in the world. I thought it was pretty good. We had a pesto pollo pizza. It had a little too much ricotta cheese for my taste.

After dinner, we went to the famous Mike's Pastries and got some canolis. Yum. But all that ricotta cheese made me feel a little sick. We tried going to to the Bunker Hill monument but it was really cold and the visitor's center was closed, so we ended up just chilling and watching a really bad 70s movie called The Andromeda Strain. I wasn't a fan, but it was entertaining and a nice end to a tiring day.

Friday, I went the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. I saw works from Monet, Van Gogh, Picasso, Degas, Sargent, etc. You know. No big deal. I also really enjoyed the exhibit on mummies and the contemporary art. I was there for three hours but didn't see nearly enough. I assuaged my disappointment by reminding myself that I have four more weeks of vacation and lots more art museums to visit.

After the MFA, I went to lunch with Patrick at CPK and then we went shopping. I love H&M. We finished off the evening at a Star Wars party with some people from Patrick's ward; it was May the Fourth after all (which I only found out recently is a thing). We watched The Empire Strikes Back. And had some incredibly awesome guacamole.

Goodbye, Boston. It's been fun.

My blogging might be a little more sporadic/non-exist over the next week while I'm in Ireland and England. I probably won't have access to a computer and I don't know how up I'll be for blogging from my iPod Touch.

Concord, MA

Today involved lots of geeking out and extreme amounts of excitement: I visited Concord, MA, home of Louisa May Alcott. My love for Little Women is so deep, personal and abiding that I have a hard time explaining it to other people. Visiting Orchard House was an experience beyond my capacity to fully describe.

I've been pretty low-key, zen even, about my trip so far. I'm not too intent on seeing anything and if things have fallen through, I haven't really cared. The only things I've insisted I needed to see while I was out here were Orchard House and Walden Pond. I knew I was excited to see these things, but even I was surprised at my own enthusiasm today. Just driving into Concord and seeing the streets got my adrenaline going. I couldn't stop smiling when I saw Orchard House appear through the trees. I made my friend take several pictures of me standing in front of the house before we even found the entrance to the visitor's center. I also texted one of these pictures to each of my eight siblings, so they could know I was experiencing such a momentous moment (redundant, but whatevs).

There were only four of us on the tour and it was the first time through the home for all of us. As we were introducing ourselves, one of the women there said, "It's kind of a really big deal for me to be here, so if I start crying, don't worry." I laughed, but mostly because I understood that I might burst into tears at any moment as well.

The house was lovely, although very different inside than the one featured in the Winona Ryder movie. The outside was essentially the same, but the inside was set up differently. The highlight of the tour was seeing the actual desk where Little Women was written. I don't know why it matters so much to see the desk, but it did. I stared at it for a good long while.

In the course of the tour, I learned a few interesting things I hadn't known before:

• The real Meg, Anna Alcott, was an actress who met her husband, John, while performing opposite him in a play in Concord.

• The real Amy, May, was an accomplished enough artist that hers was the only work by an American woman accepted in a prestigious French art exhibition.

• May was also the first art teacher of Daniel Chester French, sculptor of the Lincoln Memorial.

• The Winona Ryder movie was actually filmed in Alaska.

Okay, that last part is probably not true, but our tour guide did say that--even though she followed it up with a "Actually, that's not true."

After Orchard House, we saw Sleepy Hollow cemetery where Thoreau, Emerson, and Alcott are all buried. (Daniel Chester French is actually buried there too.) It was really creepy in an awesome way and I was glad I wasn't there alone and it wasn't dark. We were even approached by a man carrying around a black cat who wanted to tell us more about Daniel Chester French. Odd. But I loved it.

We followed up the cemetery with lunch at a little cafe, a quick drive-by look at the Old North Bridge ("the shot heard round the world"), and then a visit to Walden Pond.

I loved Walden Pond. It's huge and beautiful and I can see why Henry David moved down there. I was ready to move into the nearby woods myself. His little shanty looked quite comfortable (actually, it was just a replica--the real one was disassembled for use as firewood and the roof of it was put on a pigsty--really). Maybe I'll build my own up Provo Canyon. It would solve my I-don't-know-where-I'm-going-to-live-this-fall problem so nicely. "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately . . . " I could do that for two years and two months and two days.

I wish I could post some of the lovely pictures I took there, but alas. You'll see them soon.

Tomorrow, I'll actually go into Boston proper!

Cambridge, MA

So, I've spent most of the past couple of days in Cambridge, MA. I love it. There are so many old houses and buildings and lots of red brick--it's just so pretty and old.

On Monday, I had a lazy morning trying to take care of stuff for Europe (like calling my bank and telling them not to freeze my cards when I start spending money in Dublin), and then met up with my friend Patrick for lunch in Harvard Square.

We went to a sandwich place called Darwin's. (I took a nice picture of myself standing in front of it which I would post if I had access to a computer with an SD card slot.) We both had portobello mushroom, mozzarella, basil sandwiches (so good) and ate them in a little grassy area along Mt. Auburn Ave (Or was it Mt. Auburn Street? I don't know actually). After that, we visited the Mt. Auburn Cemetery where I took pictures of EVERYTHING. Lots of headstone and flower pictures--pictures that no one but me will ever want to look at. Again, I'd post them for you but I don't have a camera USB cord or a computer with an SD card slot.

We spent about two hours wandering around the cemetery. Apparently, it's the first landscaped cemetery in the United States. It was beautiful--peaceful and quiet. There are a lot of famous people buried there, most of whom I'd never heard of. But we did look at the graves of some people whose names I recognized: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Mary Baker Eddy (founder of Christian Science), and Edwin Booth (brother of John Wilkes Booth and one of the most famous Shakespearean actors in 1860s America).

In the middle of the cemetery is a tower that you can climb and see an awesome view of Cambridge and Boston.

After our cemetery-ing, Patrick showed me around Harvard campus and we headed back to Harvard Square where we got dark hot chocolate at Barlick's (YUM) and looked around the Harvard Coop--Harvard's university bookstore that is run by Barnes & Noble (I know, right).

Later, we met up with Patrick's bible study friends, Tom and Courtney, for dinner at a place called India Castle. It was delicious.

Today was rainy and overcast, so we didn't actually go to Walden Pond or Orchard House (that will happen tomorrow!). But Sarah and I did do a session at the Boston Temple (which was really pretty). We also ate at Chipotle (shout out to Gina & Rebecca!), ran errands at Target, and went to J. P. Lick's, an ice cream place in Harvard Square. I had chocolate pretzel ice cream. Again, yum. (I love food.)

Sarah dropped me off at the Harvard Coop where I read poetry while waiting to meet up with my friend Natalie. I came across this amazing poem that I think I'm going to make copies of and pass out to students who ask me if they missed anything important when they were absent from my class.

Natalie and I went to a concert by Kioi Sinfonietta Tokyo, who I guess were in America for the Japan-U.S. Cherry Blossom Centennial. It was a beautiful concert that took place in beautiful concert hall on campus. The concert hall was in the same building where the Harvard freshman dining hall is located. BYU's Cannon Center has a lot of room for improvement.

After the concert, Natalie and I grabbed dinner at a cool little place on Harvard Square. I can't remember what it was called, but we had hummus and red lentil soup. So good.

And now I'm seriously considering moving to Cambridge.

Epic Vacation Part 1: Boston

Yesterday, I commenced an epically long, solo vacation. I'll never have the time or probably the money to go on a vacation like this again, so I'm trying to take full advantage of the opportunity to go to a lot of places and see a lot of things. I'm going to try to blog about it somewhat regularly, depending on how good my Internet connection in Europe will be. My itinerary? Boston, Massachusetts; Ireland; England; Germany; Austria; and Washington, D.C.

I arrived in Boston yesterday morning after a red-eye flight with a brief stop in the JFK airport. I flew JetBlue, which I had never done before. I recommend it. I had a very nice flight attendant named Victor who said he liked my bag and gave me two cans of tomato juice. (I always drink tomato juice on airplanes but almost never at any other time.) He also bought a movie for the guy next to me to watch. Victor was so great.

After eating a breakfast of toast and jam, the first thing I did in Boston was take a nap. Then, I went to a baby shower for my friend Sarah (I'm staying here in Boston with Sarah and her husband, Michael). After the baby shower, I had another nap. In the evening, we went to dinner at Antojito's, a Mexican/El Salvadorian restaurant. We got a ton of food so I had a bit of everything: papusas, tacos, gorditas, some fish, rice and beans. Yum.

After that, we went grocery shopping. I learned that out here in Boston, they call grocery carts "carriages." We watched about half of Bringing Up Baby (during which I had another nap!) and then went to bed. I was so tired.

This morning, I went to church at the Boston Longfellow Park 2nd Ward with my friend Patrick. It's a ward that's pretty full of graduate students. I enjoyed how many of them tied their different fields of study into what we were talking about in Sunday School. No but really. I did. During the fifth Sunday combined meeting, we also were given chocolate and crayons and we had story time. I loved this ward.  Church was followed by a munch-and-mingle with the Longfellow Park 1st Ward where I saw my friend Natalie. Apples and celery and peanut butter were served. (I'll probably be chronicling the food I eat more than anything else I do while I'm traveling.)

This afternoon, we tried to go to Boston Commons and Boston Public Gardens (where the Make Way for Ducklings statues are!), but we experienced a lot of authentic Boston traffic and we couldn't find parking, so we ended up just kind of driving around for nearly an hour. I enjoyed it though. There are a lot of awesome old houses and old buildings here in Boston. We passed by John Kerry's house and a house that Louisa May Alcott may or may not have lived in.

On the way back, we stopped at the Fenway Stadium and walked around outside of it. It's pretty small, but it's a 100 years old and that's cool. I took some pictures that I'll have to upload when I have access to a computer with a SD card drive.

Long story short, I've been in Boston for two days and have seen mostly nothing. But I'm enjoying myself. Tomorrow, I'm going to Harvard Square, Harvard campus, and the Mt. Auburn's Cemetery where a bunch of famous people are buried. Tuesday is Walden Pond and Orchard House! Should be awesome. I'll keep you all posted.

power, love, and a sound mind

I've been pondering lately on this scripture found in 2 Timothy 1:7: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

I find this scripture comforting because it reminds me that when I'm afraid to move forward in my life or I'm stressed over trials I'm experiencing, the fear I feel can't come from God. God is love and perfect love casteth out all fear.

I'm a worrier. If you know me at all, you've probably picked up on this trait of mine. One of the things I worry most about is figuring out what to do with my life--on a day-to-day, year-to-year, and even decade-to-decade basis. I keep trying to map things out so I know where I'll be, or where I should be, in five or ten years--or at least tomorrow. I'm not an obsessive planner (in fact, although I keep a planner, I often forget to look at it), but I just like to feel secure--to know what's coming--to be able to picture where life is headed.

Unfortunately, I've long been in a stage of life where you can't really count on how things will go. I still try, however. This often leads me to pray and ponder about the next step in my life and frequently second guess whether my impressions are from the Spirit or from my own head. I'm afraid of missteps and mistakes. But God in recent months has been trying to teach me to be more flexible and more trusting.

This scripture reminds me that my fear and my worry can't have their source in God, so what I imagine are spiritual warnings and premonitions about what will go wrong are really my own worries demanding to be front and center. In contrast to this, God works through power, love, and a sound mind. And I find these things come more plentifully into my life when I stop trying to see ahead--when I allow one step to be enough for me.

Power, love, and a sound mind are most available in present moments. God isn't always willing to tell me whether or not I'll get into PhD programs or when I'll have a family, but He is always willing to tell me what to do with this moment--how to act in the next hour, or the next minute. Of course He wants me to act for myself and He mercifully doesn't direct every action and every decision (how would we learn to act for ourselves and not be acted upon?), but He will, if I let Him, guide me to where I need to be when I need to be there. He'll give me the strength to teach one class, the ability to help one student, and the love to be patient and listening when I want to be selfish and talking. He'll always help me know that I can do for people around me, even if the direction of my own life isn't yet clear. He's willing to give me the power, love, and soundness of mind to act in His service and to become a little more like Him.

And that's enough to take the fear and worry away in the present.

a blue true dream of sky

i thank You God for most this amazing 
by e. e. cummings

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)


This poem makes me so happy. I've just about memorized it simply from reading it over and over again in the past few weeks. It's the perfect poem for all this spring weather, and it reminds me of how lovely things really are. Enjoy.

new year's resolutions

Like most people, I write about ten resolutions every New Year's and then fulfill two of them.

I can't find my list from last year, so that tells you how seriously I took those resolutions. But I do remember writing "finish master's degree" on there, and I think I wrote "find a job" as well. So, there you go, two resolutions completed! Go me!

Resolutions matter a little more to me now, though, as I contemplate 2012. I'm not in school anymore, after so many years of no break, so I don't have those regular deadlines and expectations to keep me accomplishing things. I've got to figure out my own way to keep progressing. 2012 also marks the end of the world, so it seems like a good year to try to keep your resolutions.

I don't want to start too big, however, because that's setting myself up for failure. Instead of writing ten resolutions, then, I'm going to write just five. It increases each goal's odds of landing in one of the two elite goals-that-will-actually-be-accomplished spots. So, without further ado, here are my resolutions for 2012:

1. Read my scriptures in the morning.
2. Read two books a month just for fun.
3. Write something creative everyday.
4. Exercise three or four times a week.
5. Go to Europe!

I feel strongly that Europe will make it to the top two. Exclamation points are so motivating.