Waymarks: Writing the Quest

MARKS OF MEN by Travis Miller

2009-04-30T10:20:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a “What in the world am I doing here?” moment in your life? That is exactly what I was asking myself this past summer, as some unusual circumstances led to my employment based in small-town Vernal, Utah. In order to raise money for tuition and school expenses, I was able to acquire a job as a foreman for a construction company in this little Eastern Utah town. Vernal is a land owned by oil companies who offer big wages for simple but physically exhausting work. As a result, the town and surrounding country are filled with some very unique characters. Often times I would wonder if I was working or watching a wrestling match.
At any rate, I would spend anywhere from ten to twelve hours a day in Central Utah Indian territory, often times being hired out by these oil companies that are currently exploring for oil with their gargantuan oil drills. I would usually leave in a truck with some coworkers, among whom I was the sole English speaker and translator, and we would drive out into the desert to our job location. When we got there, our assigned workload would usually consist picking up garbage and digging holes. This occasion was different. The Company Man had us help by emptying a dizzying amount of hundred pound mud-mix bags into his oil drill. I do not mind heavy lifting, as I appreciate the mild soreness of growing muscles afterwards, and I do not mind getting a little dirty, but I do not like working on the oilrigs. Mainly, my hatred can be attributed to the fact that once your work is done on the oil rig, you are covered from head to toe in dust and muck. The suffering does not end there, as you also have the added blessing to be completely saturated with the smell of crude oil. The fragrance is a smell you are not likely to find over the cosmetics counter. Tuition does not pay itself, however. Our at least that is what I told myself as I climbed up muddy ladder and got to work.
After hefting a couple hundred of the mud bags, my duty as the English-speaking spokesman obligated me to seek for one of the regular rig workers so that we could get another pallet of mud-bags to empty. I waved down a worker and was greeted by a big, dirty, heavily tattooed rig-hand. I asked him if he could carry over the necessary pallet. He said sure, but countered that he had a question for me. I told him to go ahead. He then inquired, “You’re not a full-time roust-a-bout (oil field service worker) are you?” I answered, “Nope.” To which he replied, “I could tell.” I was a bit confused. I had already been working this job for months and was just as sunburned and covered with just as many nicks and cuts as anybody else. In order to clarify his deduction I inquired, “Why do you say that?” “You’re too clean,” was the only answer I received as he drove away.
I stood there for a moment, silently contemplating his meaning, as I looked over my dust and grime covered body. If I was anything at this moment, it certainly was not clean. Once I looked past the oily mud that was caked on my arms and body I realized something. My skin had a few nicks, scratches, and scars from previous job assignments but was untouched by ink and needle. When considering that my day was filled with overhearing language unsuitable for public circles, I recognized that none of those soiling words came from my lips. That is when I caught on to the true meaning of his statement. Though covered in the messiest kind of sludge and cuts, my disfigurement could not disguise my true character and principles.
Upon further reflection, I am reminded of a quote by Apostle James E. Talmage when he said:
It has been declared in the solemn word of revelation, that the spirit and the body constitute the soul of man; and, therefore, we should look upon this body as something that shall endure in the resurrected state, beyond the grave, something to be kept pure and holy. Be not afraid of soiling its hands; be not afraid of scars that may come to it if won in earnest effort, or [won] in honest fight, but beware of scars that disfigure, that have come to you in places where you ought not have gone, that have befallen you in unworthy undertakings [pursued where you ought not have been]; beware of the wounds of battles in which you have been fighting on the wrong side. [Talmage, CR, October 1913, p. 117]
Everyone in this mortal life will mark or stain their bodies. The question is will they be ennobling marks earned by hard work and sacrifice? Or disfiguring scars that come as a result of personal rebellion? Will you carry the dark stain of sin? Or allow the beauty of your character to become your polished gleam? These outward manifestations offer bystanders a glimpse, both past and present, of our lives and more importantly our characters.
More importantly, it is an interesting to ponder why we even bear these little marks on our bodies after some kind of trauma or adversity. What is the purpose behind them? In the Old Testament the Hebrew word for a designating mark or its action is “zkhr” or “zakhar.” This word has an additional definition as well. The alternate definition is “to remember.” The Lord gives us marks, whether received while doing good or ill, in order for us to remember how we received them. They are one of his most important teaching tools. By having reminders of our past, we can work faithfully towards the future. Marks can motivate us to repent, or they can also help us remember the sacrifices behind our testimonies.
I have felt the humiliation of the constant reminding of past transgressions that a physical blemish brings. When I was five years old some nearby neighbors bought the lot across the street from my house. The father of this family built a freestanding ten-foot half-pipe for his two teenage sons and their skating enjoyment. His sons were not the only ones who found a new toy. Most of the surrounding neighbor kids, many too young to ride or skate would equally utilize the new half-pipe by running up and down the crescent ramps in an attempt to reach the top, where one could stand as King of the World, for the entire neighborhood to see. While oblivious to any danger in our youth, our parents were a bit wiser and made us promise to stop playing on the half-pipe. In fact, it was always the last command we as children received when our parents would leave.
One spring night, my parents were departing for our Ward Temple Night. My younger brothers and I were all lying in front of the T.V. My parents kissed us their farewells and re-iterated that there was absolutely NO playing on the half-pipe. We, of course, agreed and watched them subsequently drive away. It was then that we did what any adventurous young children would do… run outside to play on the half-pipe! The other neighbor kids had already beaten us to it, but we were determined to reach the top before them. Up and down we went, until at last, my four brothers, two friends, and I were all standing at the top.
My childhood desire for adventure was not quite satisfied however, and I inched my way closer to the edge in order to witness the great height to which I had climbed. As I was staring off the edge, I did not take into account the fact that one of those neighborhood “friends” actually had a personal vendetta against me, and so she snuck up behind me, and unceremoniously pushed me off… resulting in a rather nasty broken arm upon my landing on the solid ground below me.
Needless to say, there was no way I could possibly hide my whereabouts and happenings that evening. My parents were informed after their temple session, and I spent the next couple of hours in a hospital. I wore a cast, like Hester’s scarlet letter, for the following six weeks.
While my story is full of childhood naivety, many of the scars people receive, whether through immorality, substance abuse, or other not-so-visible means, are equally damaging to the spirit and lives of their victims. Yet many times, as was evidenced in the first example in Vernal, our physical marks, while appearing esthetically ugly, can prove to be witnesses of a great testimony and sacrifice, ultimately resulting in becoming marks of nobility and beauty.
One of the best examples of this can be found in an account by Joseph Smith, when a drunken and angry mob abducted him from his bed late one night. He recounts that they burst through the door, grabbed and dragged him outside where after they beat him mercilessly. They halted their blows only so that they could spread tar all over his injured body, and even tried to force a spoonful of tar in his mouth. Joseph’s friends and loved ones spent the rest of the night scraping and prying the tar off of his body. Joseph Smith finished his story, by recalling that even after such a excruciatingly difficult night, that on the next day, being the Sabbath, and “with my flesh all scarified and defaced, I preached to the congregation as usual, and in the afternoon of the same day baptized three individuals” History of the Church, 1:261–65.
Most people would consider Joseph’s disfigurement repulsive, yet the fact that his burned and swollen flesh was earned in the defense of Truth and testimony transformed his marks into badges of honor. His scars were hallowed by the adversity he faced and suffered through while receiving them. Ultimately, the tokens of suffering served as reminders to us all about what possessing a steadfast testimony means.
Joseph’s marks are not the only ones that have great significance. On a small hill called Calvary, our Savior received the most important marks of all in his hands and feet. The cruel tips of Roman nails created one of the most important symbols and witnesses of our salvation. Upon his arrival to the Americas following his resurrection, Christ utilized his scars as a witness when he called unto the righteous survivors, “Arise and come forth unto me, that ye may thrust your hands into my side, and also that ye may feel the prints of the nails in my hands and in my feet, that ye may know that I am the God of Israel, and the God of the whole earth, and have been slain for the sins of the world” (3 Nephi 11:14).
Marks can be both physical and spiritual. While physical marks are easy for others to see, the marks burned deep in our hearts by the spirit can be even more powerful. These hidden tokens of faith offer us reminders of the past, and provide motivation for righteous living in the future. Many people have provided great examples in my life, and many have left invisible spiritual marks that have inspired me in my life.
As children, we often look for heroes and role models that we can strive to imitate. My biggest hero was my older brother Matthew. While it is not strange to look up to your older brother, Matt did not exactly fit the mold of model teenager. He often got himself into trouble. One of his most notorious episodes was getting suspended for a week in junior high because he put itching powder down a girl’s shirt, after which she broke out with a serious allergic reaction. This did not sit well with my parents as he was the eldest of five sons, and he was supposed to be supplying a good example. While definitely was not the worst son in the world, his repeated lapses and unsightly consequences routinely caused great tensions in our house. It eventually reached the point that my brother made a rash promise to move out the day after high school graduation.
My brother kept his promise, and he moved to Oregon to live with his best friend growing up. As he left he made sure we knew that he had made his escape. He lived in a broken down trailer and worked in a cigarette warehouse for a full year. We did not hear much from him, but we he returned he was completely changed. He did not raise his voice at my mom any more. He came home at a decent hour every night. Most of all, he decided to take a more serious interest in the lives of his little brothers.
We did not have a spare room for him anymore so my parents decided to have him share mine. During the following couple months, as he prepared for a mission, he told me a lot of his life experiences and mistakes and counseled with me not to do the same. We spent a lot of time just staring at the ceiling talking, me about my junior high experiences and interests, and him about his adventures in Oregon. Many times I would talk to him about the new grown up opportunities that I faced. He would listen and tell me about similar experiences he had had.
Those long nights and soft words by my older brother were permanently branded in my mind. The principles that he shared deeply influenced the attitudes and spiritual desires that I had for the rest of my teenage years.
While my experiences with my brother were unforgettable, the deepest grooves of my testimony were made by my faith in our Savior Jesus Christ. As a young inexperienced missionary, I found myself in charge of a struggling area with an even more inexperienced companion. The days were filled with a lot of prayers as I considered the day a success if one out of three people in our little Argentine town even understood what my companion and I were saying. Days of language practice and hard work did not seem to be helping our area progress. That is until we met the Martinez family…
In small roughly put together house by the river, Manuel and Martha Martinez struggled to provide for their three children. The house had a large thin blanket acting as a wall for two rooms, a living-dining-kitchen room in front and a single bedroom in the back. While not having many material goods, the family had a deep sense of unity. Manuel, however, always sensed that something was missing.
Our daily tracting efforts eventually led us to the Martinez’s riverside home. After several lessons and trips to church, the Martinez family was excited when we challenged them to get baptized. In order to fulfill this dream, the only lacking requirement was the marriage of Manuel and Martha. While making plans for the wedding one night, Manuel and Martha’s sad countenances were a glaring contrast to my companion’s and my enthusiasm. When we asked them what their doubt was, Manuel answered. “Since Martha and I are not married, we both receive individual poverty benefits from the government every month from our jobs. If we get married, we will lose one of those payments – it’s more than 400 pesos! We can barely eat in our current situation! We can’t give that up.”
My companion and I just sat with our mouths open. Speechless until we offered our assurances that the Lord takes care of his own. That faith comes before miracles. We all knew the right thing to do was to get baptized. Manuel and Martha, however, would not commit to it. So after many questions and pleadings, my companion and I at least succeed in committing them to have a heartfelt prayer to tell their Heavenly Father about their decision.
That night I held nothing back in my prayers to my Heavenly Father. The Martinez family had struggled through so much. I knew that fully embracing the gospel would allow them to receive all kinds of new blessings. My prayers were desperate pleadings for the Lord to give the Martinez’s courage and faith. I slept with a heavy heart as I anxiously waited for events to play out.
The next night we went back to the Martinez house to see how the parents’ prayers went. We sat down with the family, and after exchanging greetings and a prayer, we asked the parents about their prayer. Manuel blurted out, “We’re getting baptized!” Manuel and Martha’s eyes were completely aglow. We congratulated them as Manuel continued, “We just couldn’t find words to justify our actions to Heavenly Father. We’ve had so many lessons on faith, I guess this is what it is all about?” We eagerly agreed, and they were married at the end of the week.
Finally the day for their baptisms arrived. Ward members turned out in earnest in order to support them, as we tried to fit everyone in to the room with the font. A few minutes before the baptism started, Manuel asked if he could talk to me alone. A sudden sense of dread snaked its way into my heart. We went into a classroom, and I asked Manuel if something was wrong. “Let me explain,” he said. “I went into work today and my boss called me into his office. They had been laying people off because the harvest is over so they don’t need as many guys working the fields. I was afraid, but after he closed the door to his office he told me that he liked my effort and he was going to give me a raise! And better yet, he said that both my wife and I can still get our government grants!”
Manuel’s face was covered in tears of joy, and my face looked like a mirror image as we just held each other and cried. “We always said that there were miracles,” I finally said. We both laughed and left to join the rest of the ward and his family for the baptisms.
Never have I seen simple faith so amply and deservingly rewarded. That experience has seared on my soul the love that our Heavenly Father has for each and every one of us. This memory is a mark earned by diligent toil and effort in the missionary field, and I will carry it forever.
From these great examples we can draw strength when the only solution to our challenges is the time-tested antidote of hard work. As the Lord counsels us in the Doctrine and Covenants 64:33, “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.” We may receive some nicks and scratches in the service of the Lord, but these guiding marks will offer us little remembrances of the testimonies that we bear. May we remember the words of Paul to the Galatians, and answer ridicule with his declaration when he said, “From henceforth let no man trouble me: for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.” (Galatians 1:17).

Climbing with Patience (David O. McKay Essay Final)

2009-01-26T13:10:00.000-08:00

Climbing With Patience
“Poley, poley” Abdu our mountain guide calls from behind as we begin our four day ascent up Africa’s highest peak. Before climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro I didn’t know what patience was. Despite continual exhortations, our group of thirty climbers continues quickly, greedy with empty stomachs seeking to be filled. We know the camp is near and we justify our careless approach in our weary state. As the terrain becomes steeper, our mountain guide cries more firmly “Poley! Poley!” I fail to understand the value of these words and carry forward without hearing the literal meaning: “slow down, slow down!”
“Hold your horses,” “Keep your shirt on,” “Slow down,” “Don’t be in such a hurry,” “Follow the rules,” “Be careful” are more than trite expressions. They describe sincere counsel and speak the wisdom of experience. (Thomas S. Monson)
In ignorance we fail to see the value of patience as an essential ingredient to overcoming the obstacles on Mount Kilimanjaro. I justify in my anxious state that patience may be an optional principle that is recommended for the weaker climbers of the group as they slowly progress. As we continue the climb at erratic speeds (fast, then slow…fast, then slower), it becomes more evident that patience manifests itself in a controlled, diligent ascent. Notwithstanding, we climbb without the wisdom of experience. Our eyes cannot see the narrow ridge ahead, hiking blind at a brisk pace. The tropical rainforest which welcomed us with a warm and friendly greeting in the day now lurks over our heads with mysterious fear in the dark, frigid night. Our ears hear the earth moan beneath us, our feet covered in mud begin freezing over. I slip on the trail, my frostbitten hands feeling for the unprotected roots of a nearby tree found with the aid of my headlamp. “Poley, poley!” resonates again in my aching ears, while my feet search for footholds.
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Let me start at the beginning: Together with a group of thirty adventurers I hope to stand on the roof of Africa climbing on our four day ascent of almost 20,000 feet to reach the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro. After a long, bumpy journey along the dirt roads of Kenya from the capital of Mombassa, we arrive at the base of one of the world’s highest peaks. From the beginning of our voyage each group member is given opportunities to exercise patience through cancelled flights, long lines of disorder at customs, and several stop-and-go uncomfortable bus rides with detours. My enthusiasm for the climb that will begin early the next morning is rivaled by my impatience which brings with it thoughts of frustration, weariness, and exhaustion. I collapse in my tent at the edge of the village.
Patience is essential for both high altitude climbing just as it is for obtaining the summits of life. Climbing life’s mountains brings opportunities for wise counsel to be followed or discarded. Patience enables agency to be directed (developed) with wisdom just as impatience provides (sets) the stage for foolishness. Patience enables other attributes to grow in life just as it helps facilitate our group’s ascent in numerous ways.
Patience may well be thought of as a gateway virtue, contributing to the growth and strength of its fellow virtues of forgiveness, tolerance, and faith.
(Robert C. Oaks)

Roosters crow, disrupting the silence of the dark night, in anticipation of morning. Acacia trees (silhouettes) are illuminated along the horizon as morning awakes. Babies cry, children’s feet shuffle along dirt roads sending stones rolling down the road to school. Thump, thump, thump… snap! … Empty cans bounce on the rear of a donkey traveling for water with the loud crack of a whip coming from a small boy herding livestock. A hustle and bustle along the main road is felt as smiles and greetings exchange on the way to the market.
A street dog yawns and stretches after being awakened by the sound of howling rubber tires and honking horns along the main road. My neck jerks suddenly, my resting eyes now made alert, my heart begins to race at the sound of shrilling brakes, my body forced from the left to the right. “Not again,” I thought. With the tilt of a wrist my watch mocks our tardy state; each second seems as a year while we wait again for livestock to clear the road. Our driver smiles while we watch each tick of the clock with unrest. Impatience is a choice.
Finally at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro Abdu, gives his hand to be greeted differently than most men do. He humbly offers the stub of his right arm ending just before the elbow’s usual formation. I shake, taking little time to act surprised at the feel of a limp, spongy stub. We exchange quick friendly greetings, and Abdu expresses his positive outlook on life as he cheerfully swings my week’s belongings onto his back. “We are go now!” he declares with a grin; for Abdu there is always time for optimism.
Right, left, right, left…step-by-step we ascend. The entire group works together to progress up the mountain, traveling at a pace to accommodate the slowest and least fit member of our group. I feel held back and become frustrated with the many stops along the way. In contrast, Abdu enjoys pausing to point out flowers of purple, blue, yellow, and bright pink clinging to steep cliffs, boulders, and switchbacks. “Zey grow up de mountain togezer zlow and zo do we” he states. He sees what I don’t in the mountains cold morning shadow. He understands what I do not.
Fallen leaves-- frozen during the night --crunch under our feet. We yearn for the light and warmth of the sun. Dawn brings a new perspective to time. The morning mist lifts, revealing the trail more clearly. My legs itch with excitement, pushing me forward despite the wise counsel given the group to patiently ascend together. Butterflies of vibrant colors and irregular flight patterns effortlessly flutter us by, traveling up the mountain ahead, and I long to join them. Fed up with the slow (yet steady) pace, I leap ahead. I don’t see that I must have others to help me ascend -- to wait for Abdu seems foolish. He remains with the group, helping others along and cheerfully educating those he leads in broken English. Exquisite birds soar with their glorious orange, turquoise and deep black plumage, cheering my flight through their long beaks. The euphoria of solitude on Africa’s highest ascent fills my being with selfish ambition as I pass by others without asking who I may be able to help. I have been taught that perfection is not a solitary quest and I know that to be perfected alone is impossible. Nevertheless, I determine to set my own pace, pushing patience aside.
I know, but ignore the fact that “Patience must be our constant companion during the journey which carries us toward that great goal, “Continue in patience until ye are perfected,” [which is] the counsel the Lord gave. (Angel Abrea)
Without the companionship of patience, I feel initially liberated to pursue my own course my own way without having to yield to the tempo of others. The path seems clearly marked with signs the first few miles. After a couple miles of swift solitude the trail splits in two and the empty reality of my solo race sets in. I pause for a drink of water while trying to decide which road will be less traveled, and which turn my followers will take. Uncertainty, concern, and then worry begin to cloud my thoughts.
A drop of dew from the tropical foliage above startles me on my forehead. Unfamiliar animals screech, and their shrill-like commune echoes from all directions. Flowers, trees, and bushes, I perceive to be closing in on my path, hiding unknown dangers. What was beautiful and adventurous with the group has now become spooky and threatening in my lonesome state since I distanced myself from the group. “What should I do? I cannot stop! Not now! This is just the beginning.” My young mind rivets on the summit with still another 17,500 feet to go.
Scurrying up the mountain, I neglect to notice the large grey clouds descending to dampen my adventurous euphoria. The thunderous growl of an angry sky and the fierce winds of the incoming downpour demand attention and compel me to be humble. Golf-ball size rain drops chase butterflies away and the heavy burdens of my poor choice to run ahead of the others slows my course. To obtain patience often requires repentance.
Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us. (Hebrews 12:1)
I swallow hard, pausing to catch my breath. Slipping and falling on several occasions in my attempt to climb through the storm on my own, thick mud covers my feet, my hands, and my arms and legs. I stop…I pray and I feel this great cloud is too great to conquer alone. In this tempestuous moment the words “Peace, be still” speak through the mountain’s squall to my mind and heart. Providing inward harmony amidst an outward uproar, this bit of divine advice directs my thoughts and I quiet my feet to reflect…
As a child, I remember learning lessons of climbing while simultaneously discovering lessons of life while climbing Mt. Timpanogos with my father. He leads at an active pace, but always looks back to make sure I am following. He patiently waits when I fall behind, teaching by example. I stumble, I fall, I cry at times climbing, but he is always there to help me continue. When a storm arrives at Emerald Lake, we take temporary shelter nearby before continuing the rest of the ascent. He smiles without worry and I confide in his path, planting my feet in his steps up the snowfield to the crest. The rigid and narrow trail of the crest to the peak frightens my bulging eyes as I look downward upon all of Utah Valley which seems so small below. My father assures me there is no need to fear as long as I take small steps along the rocky ridge. He taught me that patience is a key for persistence in overcoming obstacles. To Dad, any mountain is invincible.
Pondering the lessons of my childhood, I wait for the rest of the group with damaged pride but feeling my father’s approval. If he were here, he would want me to wait. I realize the climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro is not a race, but a journey that must be paced, as its reward is unachievable in solitude. While waiting for the rest of my fellow hikers, I begin to realize that I can no longer wait for patience to find me; patience is a virtue sought through action.
Brushing a clump of mud from my brow with my right forearm, I smile at my hard-working friend Abdu who shows no signs of fatigue in leading the group. “Jambo!” I declare after using my limited native vocabulary to express my apologies for disregarding his previous counsel. The surrounding porters chuckle at my mud-covered appearance, and we laugh together while continuing the ascent. Their abounding enthusiasm and optimism through the storm helps our group endure the storm with a calm perspective and diligence. Thunder, and then another flash of light, opens the heavens. United, we prevail with patience the giant drops of water amidst the beautiful, lush and green rainforests. Our surroundings seem no longer threatening, but beautiful, mixing culture and harvesting respect and hope through difficulty together.
Tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope. (Romans 5:3-4)
How quickly we return in error to our own devices. As nature regains her composure and turbulent clouds roll past us, we desire to make up for previous lost time as the sun sets. Our stomachs growl and our legs groan. We accelerate our pace partially to keep warm, but mostly due to our impatience. “Poley, poley…poley, poley!” the porters frequently remind. Most of our trekkers accelerate at a quick pace leaving some of the others behind in a smaller group, despite the warnings of our escorts, who were also forced to split up with the two different groups.
The end of day is met unexpectedly with the mysterious fear of a dark, in the frigid night that creeps upon us like a shadow of defeat. Our ears hear the earth moan beneath us, our feet covered in frozen mud. Climbing a steep ascent of the trail, my frostbitten hands feeling for the unprotected roots of a nearby tree found with the aid of my headlamp. “Poley, poley” resonates again in my ears made numb with the cold. Despite continual exhortations, we continue quickly, greedy with empty stomachs seeking to be filled. We know the camp is near. As the terrain becomes steeper, our mountain guide cries more firmly “Poley! Poley!” Our eyes cannot see the narrow ridge ahead.
A sudden panicked voice sounds amidst our group: “Help! Helllllp!” This screeching cry is put to a halt with the strong dark hands of a savior in the night. Abdu dropped everything else he was carrying at the sound of a frantic cry, and now labors to pull a wayward climber back up over the ledge she couldn’t see. With the enormous strength of his only arm, he willingly puts his own life on the line for a careless, disobedient trekker. As bushes are ruffled in the dark night, and grunts of exertion sound from the guide, excitement resonates within our group of still, frightened mountaineers. Success temporarily relieves fear; we know that God’s love accompanies us despite our failure to follow instruction. We have been chastened again for our disobedience and reminded that He will not let us fail if we will heed His guidance.
“Tank God almytee tonight” Abdu says while catching his breath. This near tragedy makes it evident that we are weak and in need of some greater source of guidance in order to progress to the top of Kilimanjaro and to be able to conquer the summits of life. Climbing life’s mountains brings opportunities for wise counsel to be followed or discarded; patience enables agency to be developed with wisdom just as impatience sets the stage for foolishness. We must patiently rely upon our guide!
We continue the night’s adventure once more, now walking on a frozen trail as if it were a path of egg shells, carefully listening to the counsel of our guide with each step. “Poley! Poley!” is all we can think or say or do in hopes that with patience we may avoid another wayward incident. Patience is stillness, carefully listening along the way.
My heartbeat quickens in the freezing conditions as we finally arrive at the first night’s camp. My vision is slightly distorted, and my stomach growls with nausea. My swollen feet carry my shivering body to crawl into the night’s tent with chattering lips. My head pounds with fear. I hope I awake in the morning without icicles on my chin. I am unprepared for the minus 17 degrees Celsius that sleeps by my side. In my shivering slumber I dream of a future adventure…
Climbing a popular peak in Peru a few years after attempting Mt. Kilimanjaro, I have a new appreciation for patience, applying Mt. Kilamanjaro’s lessons. waiting and hoping for the peak’s glorious outlook, while still finding joy in the slow-paced journey. While Wynapichu is a much smaller mountain than Kilimanjaro, it still presents the same challenges that come with a group climb, patiently working together to ascend. With each step I measure my progress, looking down upon the ancient ruins of Machu Pichu below. The thick fog carries an aura of mystery and without resistance I yield my pace to one of caution and safety. I am held captive by the beauty of the peak and its surroundings. My mind wanders, ponders and soars; I take the time to feel the spirit of the mountain commune with my own. Patience enables a spirit to grow, and progress.
Climbing with patience is climbing with hope; the two are inseparable. The word “esperar” in the Spanish language contributes to the relationship between hope and patience with its two definitions: “to wait for,” or “to hope for.” Storm clouds roll in, yet I feel no rush. Diligence carries my group to the top of the ancient Incan Empire where we stand in peace. My senses are heightened as I glance over a cliff, nearing the steep peak. Impatience could bring catastrophic consequences in this moment as I carefully climb the last steps to the summit. Victory! Patience, as with all gospel principles, is rewarded without fail…
Upon my early morning rise, scattered among rocks big and small by God’s omnipotent hand, seeds of truth lay unseen on Mt. Kilimanjaro, humbly hidden by the brilliance of something grandiose, picturesque and magnificent. The new day brings new perspective. Patience requires time and time affords patience. My eyes are opened to wonders overlooked the day before. The beauty and warmth of morning’s first light bring optimism and gradually replace the life-endangering dark despair of night. The hours of darkness our group begrudged poorly with complaint and murmur, were endured by the mountain guides, who remained constant, calm and content. I ask Abdu how he does it. “Practeece” he replies. “I climb dis mountain so many timez…and alwayz God, He be zer.” Patience is enduring well without end, and thus, patience takes practice.
Before beginning our ascent with fresh eyes to see and ears to hear, Abdu approaches our group with a heavy head. His usual sanguine and upbeat persona was covered by uncertainty and concern on his face. We wait for his command to rally us up the mountain together….but it never comes. “We don’t go today up” he shares. Silence…. “We go today down” he speaks softly with disappointment. The executive decision that our group was not strong enough to continue with the difficult terrain and weather ahead, brought disillusionment, distress, and discontent. Frustration escalates to become anger amidst the group, targeting Abdu. “You are not fail!” cried Abdu in an attempt to lift our spirits. “We go!” He would not let us feel defeat. Regretting our previous day’s mistakes, we follow Abdu back down the mountain against our own will. We trust Abdu and we feel his loving concern. Anger in our downtrodden hearts melts away with the rising sun.
Anger can be conquered by developing patience and sincerely desiring to love others more than self. Gordon T. Watts)
Abdu stops to point out flowers of purple, blue, yellow, and bright pink winding their way down from steep cliffs, boulders, and switchbacks. “Zey grow down de mountain togezer slow, and we go ze same way.” He sees what we don’t in the cold morning shade with boundless patience as we descend.
The Lord said, “Ye are not able to abide the presence of God now, neither the ministering of angels; wherefore, continue in patience until ye are perfected.” This is good advice for all of us. (Cecil O. Samuelson)
I patiently await the day of return to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, with active hope that the opportunity to summit presents itself. Retrospectively I see that I was not prepared at the time I attempted to face Africa’s tallest peak, but I also know my climb was not a failure. Before climbing Mount Kilimanjaro I didn’t know what patience was.
I now better understand the need for continual “Poley, poley” reminders in my life, and I strive to follow this counsel on my life’s path. I am now less careless in my approach to each day trying not to pass others by without taking time to look for ways to stop and help. I try not to take for granted many of the beauties around me, as I patiently observe the lovely people and places that make my life grandeur. I still fall short in many ways. I am not void of impatience and there are often times I find my feet running ahead of the guidance I’ve been given in my life’s school, work, and church callings. Yet, I have learned to find joy in the journey up life’s mountains, enduring the storms and stopping to help others along the way. If I proceed patiently—even through multiple attempts –I know God’s loving hand will guide me to the summit of Africa’s roof-top Kilimanjaro in His own time. As I patiently rely upon and follow my Eternal Guide up life’s mountains each day, there is no peak too high to climb.
Be still, and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)

Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcylce Maintenance--A Manual for Life Maintenance

2008-12-19T06:42:00.000-08:00

Pirisg, Robert M.. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. New York: Bantam, 1981. (380 pages, 31 chapters)

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was written by Robert M. Pirsig and originally published in 1974. Since then, it has enjoyed several republications due to its popularity. Its 380 pages are divided into four parts and 31 chapters. The book doubles as the story of a motorcycle journey across the United States in which the narrator searches for forgotten truths and an understanding of his son and as a modern work of philosophical thought and application. Throughout the journey, the narrator shares a Chautauqua with the reader, which he defines as “an old-time series of popular talks intended to edify and entertain, improve the mind and bring culture and enlightenment to the ears and thoughts of the hearer.” (7) His Chautauqua, exploring the duality of technology and art, Classicism and Romanticism, mingle with the story of the journey and bring insights to his relationship with his son. Flashbacks also show the life of a man called Phaedrus years previously, the narrator’s own life before receiving electroshock therapy to cure Phaedrus’s insanity. The trek across the nation reconciles the dualities of object and subject, father and son, past and present.

The story flows very well and the intermingling of different, well-placed modes of narration bring added insight to each preceding section. The depth of the author’s skill in writing and clarity of thought is evident in his ability to explain philosophical ideas on a level that most readers can understand, with some thought, of course. He uses everyday occurrences to supply metaphor and application for these ideas. From this comes the motorcycle maintenance element of the title. The motorcycle provides a vehicle—pun may or may not be intended—for illustrating the differences in Classical and Romantic thought, showing parts versus whole. His goal in addressing this dualism is its elimination, or rather, a recreation in reconciliation. This is done by Quality, a third entity that I can only shortly define as the godly characteristic inherent in all good work, undefinable, yet evident. Hearers, readers, onlookers can all perceive it when experiencing a work of quality, whether it be a beautiful poem or a masterful weld-job. It is Quality that makes life worth living. It is Quality that is worth.

This discussion of quality, and one of its sub-discussions of gumption, brought me the most insight into my life and my own work. This book reads much differently than older masterpieces of literature. Pirsig does not remind me of Joyce, Longfellow, or Shakespeare, yet I feel the quality of his work. It has shown me that popular and practical prose can be meaningful and moving. His story has awakened and enlightened an understanding of myself, of my desire to pursue excellence in life, in all of life. I never want to produce another shoddy piece of work again.

Pirsig’s book is not perfect. Some of his story is left unsaid, perhaps only comprehensible to him and his son. Other statements made by the narrator do not resonate with me. I value Eastern philosophies and religious practices, respect and admire many of them, yet do not agree with all of those introduced by the narrator. But its limitations and delimitations do not remove the Quality from this story.
I would recommend this book to anyone interested in self-reflection and a different perspective on the world. It is some of the most accessible philosophy I have read, understandable and applicable to the current world.

The Seed of Humility: Final Blog

2008-12-17T05:52:00.000-08:00

The blaring sun penetrated my freshly tanned skin as I swaggered across campus. Not bothering to step aside for underclassmen, it was finally my turn to take advantage of the senior rank and privileges, and I thought it was going to be the best year ever. Little did I know that in spite of my confidence, my senior year was not going to be as picture perfect as I had dreamed.

What is a quest? What factors inspire individuals to devote their energy and soul to a specific pursuit? Well, that is exactly what I learned this semester. I’ve come to realize that my life is like the transformation of a single seed into a beautiful flower.

Just like the flower, I lived life to the fullest during the Summer, casting away all cares and strife. Anticipating the thrill and accomplishment I would bask in upon achieving my collegiate goals. It was during this time of bliss and arrogance that I was complacent; I should have been constantly preparing and improving myself each day. Instead, I ignorantly allowed dangerous weeds to start to entangle and ensnare me.

Suddenly, the first storm of Fall hit me like a chilling frost. My senior year started, but definitely not the way I thought it would. As a Violin Performance Major, it’s a common occurrence to audition and compete for position and rank among my peers; yet, my complacency during the Summer greatly affected my performance. Also, as a first time mom, the stage of “morning sickness” was more like the 24 hour flu – for two and a half months. Thus, these factors put an even greater strain on my abilities to perform at school, church, and home.

Sitting in the bleakness of Winter, I let an icy tear tremble down my face. Why was this happening to me? Why now, my final year of college? Feeling absolutely alone, with no one to turn to, I felt like giving up. Degraded to my very roots, I had nothing left to give. Over time, I became humbled and realized who truly gives life to my roots and helps me become beautiful – Christ. Christ is always there for me even when I am the weakest. He gave me the strength I needed to hope for the Spring. Christ knew how to help, lead, guide, and support me through trials because he overcame every December. It is only through Christ that we can even hope for Spring. With meekness, and fully devoting my very roots to Christ, I was reborn as I humbly entered the Spring.

As my newly rejuvenated life was budding, I still relied on Christ to sustain me through my instability. Blessings from Heaven poured down upon me giving me nourishment as I searched the scriptures and held meaningful prayers. One of the greatest blessings that I received was the reassurance of the Holy Ghost. While anxiously seeking comfort through the scriptures I was lead to Doctrine and Covenants 78:17-18

Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye are little children, and ye have not as yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you;

And ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings thereof are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours.

What joy and peace that scripture brought my soul; Christ truly knew exactly what I needed, and He was there to strengthen me. Over time, as I worked diligently to turn my life and efforts to Christ, I bloomed into a beautiful flower. It was in my weakest time that I turned to Christ, and he enabled me to transform my weakness into my greatest strength.

Going through this rejuvenating process, I came to understand what my quest was this semester. Both my spiritual and intellectual quests were intertwined, and as I aspired to progress in one area the other was equally improved. When I truly thought about this being my last year of college, I knew that I wanted to get the most out of my education as possible. I devoted myself to practice longer, study harder, and always do my very best. It seemed like being sick would get in the way of my pursuit, but that is where my spiritual quest balanced the weight. Through the burden of sickness, I have grown closer to the Lord and my growing baby girl. The brethren have stated that pregnant women go through pain and trials which are the closest experience on earth that can be compared to the intense pain that Christ suffered during His great sacrifice. What an amazing blessing for me to have the opportunity to be so intimately close to the Lord! I was constantly striving to become as Christ like as possible through devotion, scripture study, and prayer.

Now, even though the white snow is fluttering to the frozen ground, I am not in the Winter of my life. Because of my quests, my hard work and dedication paid off. I was promoted partly through the year to a higher position in the orchestra, and my health is strong and I can almost eat whatever I want :-). The sun is shining, and because of a humble seed, my Spring flower is beautiful through Christ, the Lord.

Does that answer your QUESTion?

2008-12-17T05:26:00.000-08:00

Parker Heiner
Spiritual and Intellectual Quests

“What,” dramatic pause, “is your name?” croaks the Bridgekeeper.
“Uhh, Parker Heiner. Of Arizona. Sort of.”
“What,” dramatic pause, “is your quest?” asks the Bridgekeeper.
I think for a while. “Are you sure you want me to tell you? I mean, I’ve been working on this for a semester now, and I ought have it down pretty good, but it’s going to take a little while for me to explain, so if you’ve got the time. I guess you’re the Bridgekeeper and can’t really go anywhere else, so here goes…”

“People are always more important.” Craig Decker’s first maxim in life rings like a tuning fork of perfect C. Clear, resounding, and unwavering, it is a truth I have denied some of my life, but which I have begun allowing to resonate within myself for the past several years. It becomes even clearer in the wake of Craig’s passing, as the waves of his life continue to influence mine. I pull a short excerpt from his family’s comments, “Craig Decker passed away tragically on July 5th 2008. However, in his short 25 years of life he has had a profound effect on thousands of people in such a positive way that we, as is family, have created this site to be a collecting ground for memories, inspiration and as a tool to continue on his legacy and hopefully make the world a better place.” This blog is incredible. You can read for hours and continually see new and incredible ways that Craig influenced others. This is a measure of how well he lived that first maxim of life.

Craig is not the first person to believe and live such a statement. Much earlier in my life, some nine months before my birth, another person who lived the same personal law set me on my mortal spiritual and intellectual quests. Growing up, my mother always focused on people, on improving their lives, on loving and caring and giving and never ever tearing down. Many a time did I groan at her “Life is about relationships, honey.” Only recently have I realized that this is the drive shaft in the vehicle of becoming what I want to spiritually and doing what I want to intellectually.

I share the same basic goal of most people I know—I want to be happy. My study of the Gospel and as much life experience as I could pack into my scant 23 and a half years has shown me that I need people. James Barry, the author of Peter Pan, once wrote, “Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” Far too often, we insist on the gloom of self-pity, self-righteousness, self-despair, self-ridicule, or self-esteem. It is when we lose our lives that we gain them, when we forget ourselves that the Lord remembers us. All activities of the Gospel have the goal of bringing us happiness and they all inspire the same desire—service to our fellowman.

And I cannot disassociate my mind from my spirit, and so cannot, nor should, take the spiritual out of the intellectual in my pursuits. Ultimately, I seek the opposite goal—a marriage of the two—as I search for knowledge and the application thereof. As I gain in understanding of the world and of man, I hope both for a better understanding of God and to aid others in seeing the divinity in it all. In them. I pursue an understanding of everything so that I can understand everyone, and in understanding them, I hope to add to them.

My spiritual and intellectual quests seek to drive me to one shared goal: peace with myself and with my God. Through all the experiences that I have had in life, I have recognized the wisdom of those who have taught me through word and deed that this is done primarily through people. What good is all the scripture study and prayer if it does not lead you to do good, as Christ did? What good is all the knowledge and expertise in the world if it does not lead you to serve others? As President Monson shares in the most recent First Presidency message, “It was said of Jesus of Nazareth that He ‘increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.’ Do we have the determination to do likewise? One line of holy writ contains a tribute to our Lord and Savior, of whom it was said, He ‘went about doing good…; for God was with him.’” The measure of his good, and thus, the development of his mind and spirit, can be seen in the lives he changed. When I act in accordance with Christ’s will, following his example, I am happy and I am fulfilled, for I am serving. That is my quest.

The Bridgekeeper seems too busy snoring to ask me a third question, so I walk across.

My Spiritual Quest

2008-12-17T05:24:00.000-08:00

Christ stated in John 13:34–35, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.”

I believe my spiritual quest is to find the beauty and love of Christ in everything. In everything that I do, in everything that I say, in everyone and everything I encounter. Heavenly Father’s love for us helped to overcome our downfall, and his love was strong enough to send His only Son to bring us back to Him. Heavenly Father created everything with loving care, and He can be seen in all of his creation. In D&C 59 it says, “All good things come from him because of his great love for us. Our sensitivity to his grace and appreciation of his love can grow each day as we observe what he has done for us.” He has made everything around us, and if he can put that much love and detail in the workings of small things around us, how much more does Heavenly Father love us. In D&C 59:18 and 20, It says, “Yea, all things which come of the earth, in the season thereof, are made for the benefit and the use of man ....And it pleaseth God that he hath given all these things unto man; for unto this end were they made to be used, with judgment, not to excess.”
There is good in everyone, and we just have to find it, to have the courage and faith to look for it. Christ commanded us in John 15:9-12, “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you." Therefore, I feel that I want to love and see the beauty in everyone and to act on that love. I have learned that there is good within ourselves even if we fail to realize our potential. I have constantly felt that I have fallen short, unable to find the good within me and be able to use it to beautify the world around me. We are his children, and our happiness and success are his greatest concern. In Moses 1:39, it says, "This is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." I always feel that I want to go out, to volunteer, to help others around me, to help the unfortunate. However I always feel that I have a mental and spiritual block and can never go out and do the things that I feel would make me a more beautiful person. I also always have the urge to judge others, and I want to overcome this obstacle. I want to be able to push others to better themselves without seeming like I am bringing them down. Gordon B. Hinckley stated, “Love is the only force that can erase the differences between people, that can heal relationships shattered by bitterness....If the world is to be improved, the process of love must make a change in the hearts of men. It can do so when we look beyond self to give our love to God and others, and do so with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our mind.” I would like to go out and do the things the Lord has commanded of us and strive to accomplish them no matter what. I would like to be able to forgive others, to love others, to forgive myself, and to give despite my shortcomings. The Love of Heavenly Father can make us better, can make the world around us better, and I would like to epitomize that doctrine as my lifelong spiritual quest.

A Simple re-Quest

2008-12-17T02:29:00.000-08:00

"Intense, unexpected suffering passes more quickly than suffering that is apparently bearable; the latter goes on for years and, without our noticing, eats away at our soul, until, one day, we are no longer able to free ourselves from the bitterness and it stays with us for the rest of our lives." - Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist, xi

We've all met bitter old people. My nightmare is becoming one of those. This summer, my nightmare became much more real as I worked in a world-class university for public health, my career of choice. My life took a dramatic change of course as I opened a PDF document as part of the thousands of pages of reading I was to do for my internship. Images and Reflections: Photography and Public Health was an incredibly insightful article published in a scholarly journal for my field and written by the chair of the department for which I was interning. I sent an email to Dr. Nigel Bruce and he enthusiastically replied. We shared a passion for both photography and public health. Over the summer, we worked together on developing a hypothetical university-level course on those two subjects. At the end of my internship, I had to conduct several interviews of public health professionals. Nigel told me that although he was happy enough (as the department chair of the second-best public health program in the world), if he were to do it over again he would instead explore his interest in photography. Red flag.

Why, you may wonder, if I love photography so much would I choose to study public health? I am pragmatic. And I'm not alone.

Oscar Wilde said: "Each man kills the thing he loves." And it's true. The mere possibility of getting what we want fills the soul of the ordinary person with guilt. We look around at all those who have failed to get what they want and feel that we do not deserve to get what we want either. We forget about all the obstacles we overcame, all the suffering we endured, all the things we had to give up in order to get this far. I have known a lot of people who, when their personal calling was within their grasp, went on to commit a series of stupid mistakes and never reached their goal - when it was only a step away.

This is the most dangerous of the obstacles because it has a kind of saintly aura about it: renouncing joy and conquest. But if you believe yourself worthy of the thing you fought so hard to get, then you become an instrument of God, you help the Soul of the World, and you understand why you're here. -Coelho, xii

If there's one secret I may not have outed yet in the class, it would be that I am an incense-burning hippie. Hence, these words strike a chord with me. I love the idea that finding our personal calling in life and following it isn't just nice, it's the ultimate contribution we can make to humanity. This, then, was my intellectual and spiritual quest: to find my personal calling.

It may seem obvious to you where this is going. And yet it has been quite a rollercoaster for me. I have considered graduating and trying to find a job working in refugee health, taking premed courses and becoming a midwife so that my utility in third world countries is increased, and finishing out both of my minors before leaving BYU. These all seemed to be fairly reasonable, relatively safe options for my life. Convincing yourself that applying for the photo program is a good idea when you are already in your victory lap of your undergraduate, however, is much more difficult.

Pascal once said in Pensees that, roughly translated, after meditating on all of the many horrible things that exist and occur as a result of mankind's folly, he had decided all of these things were the result of one single problem: people have forgotten how to spend time in solitary introspection.

I applied this to my personal quest, which was difficult as I am naturally a very social creature and dislike being alone. However, I found myself processing many intersections that had happened in my life, including the arguably chance meeting with a street performer who inspired me to follow my dream at any cost by showing me that success is a combination of personality and positive conspiracy of the universe. This one multifaceted episode took me the entire semester to dissect, and I have yet to finish. However, I feel that I've gained much from the process itself.

And so it is that through a more thorough exploration of my options, frequent and deep introspection, and meditative reflection, I have arrived at the end of the semester and this course. After all this and more flip-flopping than candidates in the presidential primaries, I have decided to apply to the photo program. Meetings with faculty members have proved encouraging and I have a decent chance at getting in. My intellectual and spiritual quest, then, is changing. Now I must understand how and why to follow my calling in life, while keeping in mind a somewhat worrisome but ultimately encouraging quote (again from Coelho):

We who fight for our dream, suffer far more when it doesn't work out, because we cannot fall back on the old excuse: "Oh, well, I didn't really want it anyway." We do want it and know that we have staked everything on it and that the path of the personal calling is no easier than any other path, except that our whole heart is in this journey. Then, we warriors of light must be prepared to have patience in difficult times and to know that the Universe is conspiring in our favor, even though we may not understand how.

And with that, I leave you - may you find and follow your personal calling in life as well.

The Quest

2008-12-17T00:59:00.000-08:00

I tried to construct an intricate model, but it was nothing but a card castle, easily collapsed, with no real beauty, only the ability to fascinate momentarily; a novelty, yes, but no work of art. So tonight I write what’s on my heart. If not genius, If not classic material, at least it will be heartfelt. And what else matters.

My spiritual quest is my becoming, and my search for the joy that does not fade. I seek to open my heart, sharpen my senses and feel the world around me, to feel the people around me. Not only to study, but to live.

My spiritual quest is my attempt to touch butterfly wings—without breaking them. It is the tolling of my own liberty bell – purposeful, true, and meaningful. I spiritual quest is cutting through all the chains that bind me—fear, sin, selfishness—with a ballpoint pen. It is my search for divinity within myself and within others.

Our trip to aspen grove was a spiritual way mark for me. Yes, now I can say that I’ve been on an eight hour hike, but that wasn’t the real beauty of the trip. Neither were the mountains, though lovely, my summit. Instead, it was the people—the dear, sweet people.

I came to understand that I was among the best of mankind. I was among the kind and the genuine, the accepting and the spiritual. Until Aspen grove I did not know that the ability to give a heartfelt compliment was a spiritual gift. In the mountains I discovered that my professor is a human being. I grew to love, wholeheartedly, this class these people. Wistful as it may sound, part of me wishes that people weren’t graduating, weren’t leaving, so that we could continue class every day for the rest of our lives. Or perhaps, in the spirit of my quest book, just every Tuesday.

My intellectual quest is not separate from my spiritual quest; knowledge without meaning is nothing. My intellectual journey has been one of growth and collapse. I nurture a field of corn, a decent crop for the year. But come next year all my knowledge has decomposed. I’m just now learning that breakdown is not failure; it is simply the key to fertile ground and growth.

I’m just now understanding lessons from years ago. I quit gymnastics when I was twelve but there on sweaty mats was the key to learning: The gymnast will hit the ground, does hit the ground, but the real gymnast stands again and again, and again. So it is with the scholar.

I hope that each member of this class lives the life of a star. Not the celebrity kind, but the kind which burns in the night sky. I pray that we spend our lives in fusion, in bringing together ideas, feelings, and people. Perhaps some days our souls will expand, as though they encompass eternity. Other times they may collapse, seemingly tragic. Expand, collapse, expand, collapse. What we cannot forget is this: more soul-elements form with each collapse. There is growth in each challenge. Then one day we’ll supernova, and for a moment be spectacular Illuminated stardust. But in the end, people as great as these here, these dear sweet people, will collapse, not into pain, but into black holes: invisible, powerful, and all absorbing

Spiritual Quest

2008-12-17T00:09:00.000-08:00

"Through Heavens Eyes"

To exemplify my spiritual quest I chose the phrase, "Look at your life Through heaven's eyes," from the song lyrics from the Prince of Egypt. For as we look at our lives through heavens eyes, we see the purpose of our trials more clearly and more clearly our true value.

I was born in Santa Clara County Hospital on December 26, 1984. I spent most of my childhood living in Napa Valley, California. Growing up I spent time living with both my mother and my father who separated when I was four years old. I lived with my father on weekends, who took me to church on Sundays; and my mother on weekends, who was not an active member of the church.

When I finished elementary school, my life took a bad turn. My father moved away and, having a lack of fatherly support, I struggled making the transition from elementary school to junior high. I struggled both socially and in school. Toward the end of my junior high years, my mother began to have financial difficulties. She ended up losing her home, so I moved in with my father in Palo Alto who I had scarcely seen in 3 years.

While these times seemed difficult to me, and I didn't understand why I needed to go through such things, I found that these experiences set the stage for my further spiritual progression. When I moved in with my Father, I went to church for a while. Though I wasn't terribly interested in religion at the time, this move put me in an environment that exposed me to the gospel.

High school was a difficult time. I had trouble getting along with my Father, I didn't excel in school, I didn't have a lot of friends. During this time, my life seemed pretty meaningless. I got up in the morning, sometimes, went to school on occasion. These times were difficult, but the experiences sent me into important introspection. I began to ponder on the purpose of life which better prepared me to receive the fullness of the gospel later.

My senior year in high school, I was finally instilled with a desire to change my life. My friends were all going off to college while I was left without much hope. During this time I began to search for spiritual knowledge. I asked myself what I wanted in life. I decided I wanted a family, I wanted a good life, but I had idea how to get it. I received a visit from the local priest quorum adviser. He invited me to read the Book of Mormon and pray to know if it was true. I'll admit, I didn't read the Book of Mormon, but I did attend church, and I did pray to find out if there was a god. A week later, I received a strong confirming whiteness that there was a God. The experience changed my life drastically.

Life is But a Weaving
Benjamin Malachi Franklin

"My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.
Oft' times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver's skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned"

After the spirit witnessed to me, I was able for the first time to see my life, and my experience, at least in part, the way that my Heavenly Father saw. I saw that the dark threads of adversity had set the stage fore my conversion.

Though I had more knowledge after my conversion experience, and have continued to gain knowledge since, my spiritual quest has not changed very much. I strive to "Look at [my] life through heavens eyes." Now it's not so much looking back at it is looking forward. As I go through the day I strove to better understand what the Savior would do if he were in my situation. All my successes, and all my trials, I try to look at from a heavenly perspective, or eternal perspective as we often call it. As I look at my life with this perspective see my successes as a time for gratitude, and my trials as a time to grow and turn more fully to the Lord.

"A single thread in a tapestry-
Though its color brightly shine-
Can never see its purpose
In the pattern of the grand design.

"And the stone that sits on the very top
Of the mountain's mighty face-
Does it think it's more important
Than the stones that form the base?

"So how can you see what your life is worth
Or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man
You must look at your life,
Look at your life through heaven's eyes.

"A lake of gold in the desert sand
Is less than a cool fresh spring-
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king.
If a man lose ev'rything he owns,
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning
Of a new and brighter birth?

"So how do you measure the worth of a man-
In wealth or strength or size?
In how much he gained or how much he gave?
The answer will come,
The answer will come to him who tries
To look at his life through heaven's eyes."

HONORS 300R – MY INTELLECTUAL AND SPIRITUAL QUEST

2008-12-16T23:26:00.000-08:00

My intellectual quest can be summed up in just two words: education, and stewardship. My ultimate goal is to acquire as much knowledge on this earth as I can so that I can use it to help and educate others. By pursuing medicine, a field where learning never ends and where new research is constantly being attained, I believe that I can fulfill my intellectual quest.

Even as a young child, I have always had this drive to learn, not only from teachers and books, but also from involving myself in sports teams, choirs, volunteer work, and travelling to other countries. Every opportunity that has not passed me by has sculpted me into who I am today.

Without having realized it before, I have noticed that throughout my life, my own way marks had been set, discretely, from the day I mastered the alphabet, struggled with high school chemistry, to the day I was accepted into BYU. Every inch along my educational path is getting me closer to becoming the physician I have always wanted to be.

I cannot remember the exact moment I decided on becoming a doctor, but for all of my twenty years of living, no other profession has trumped this one. My passion is to heal others whom are ill and unhealthy and to make a difference in their lives. I can only do this if I have the appropriate knowledge. Sharing this knowledge and informing people about their bodies, can allow them to help themselves also, and I hope they can be inspired this way. What good is having knowledge if it cannot be shared and passed on?

Both my grandfather and closest aunt are OB/GYN. I believe that a combination of both my grandfather delivering me as a baby, the first to hold me, and the great role model my aunt is for me has been a great influence. Their same passion for medicine too, runs in my blood.

* * * * * *

Intellect and spirituality, for me, are not separate and discrete from each other. They are analogous to my vital organs; intellect is like my brain, spirituality, is my heart. I could not live with one and not the other; both keep me alive and make me a whole person.

My spiritual quest in just two words: truth and happiness. Although these terms seem vague, I interpret them in an important and meaningful way. My search for truth is through Jesus Christ; it would be useless to look anywhere else. Coming to BYU, even as a catholic, has greatly strengthened my spirituality. I do not know if it is because I am in an environment with so many spiritual people, who are living, or striving to live, the gospel, but I have noticed a change in my life, for the better, and I have drawn closer to Christ. He is the light, and I can always look to Him for guidance.

One of the main components of my happiness, and one of my favorite Latter-day Saint emphases, is on the family. I love my family; they are the root of my happiness. From them I have learned to be a compassionate, loving and trusting individual. My quest has been to use these tools and apply them to the people I meet, since we are all apart of God’s family. Such a task is not always easy. Just like with sibling rivalry, conflicts arise amongst other people, and it can be difficult to be so compassionate, loving or trusting.

This quest, like my intellectual quest, has been challenging at times, and it is during these times when I seek Christ’s help. One quote I admire from Dag Hammarskjold’s “Markings”, is:
Does he sacrifice himself for others, yet for his own sake – in megalomania?
Or does he realize himself for the sake of others? The
Difference is that between a monster and a man. “A new
Commandment I give unto you: that ye love one another.” (page 69).

Christ paid the penalty for all of my sins, and I must not forget that. The small trials that I experience cannot compare to His atoning sacrifice. I must remember Christ’s love and the love of my family, especially when things have dampened my happiness.

Like the happiness my family has given me, I, too, hope to build my own family on the principles of support and happiness.

The Large And The Small Plates (Final Blog)

2008-12-16T22:10:00.000-08:00

As Nephi, we all should have our own large and small plates to record about our intellectual and spiritual quests.

Intellectual Waymarks:

My intellectual quest is to master the art of writing using the English language. It has been my intellectual quest since I understood the value of the power of words and it will be until I have accomplished that goal. I understand that it may take my whole life since learning a language is an endless work, but how useful is our life if we don’t do what we enjoy to do. And I love to write in English.

I wrote this in my commonplace book: “ ‘The mastering of writing shouldn’t be limited to academic writing.’ I think that this is right. The mastering of writing should include all genres of writing. The accomplished writer should be able to use different genres”.

I understand that the goal of being an accomplished writer involves a lot of reading and I like to read, therefore, I guess this goal is feasible in my lifetime. Now, it can be understood why I took writing classes in the past, why I took a writing class this semester and why I will continue to take other writing classes while in college.

Spiritual Waymarks (1 Nephi 6:5)

I wrote about Aspen Grove and the Eternal Cycle of Water in my commonplace book. The cycle of water resembles the eternal cycle of life. We are part of a greater work. We are given time and freedom and a place in the Plan of Salvation.

My spiritual quest is to become the hands of God to bless others. I strongly believe that God has put us on this earth to be his hands to bless his children. Maybe this explains why in the exercise “This Is Why We Give” I came up with at least seventeen reasons to give. I also believe that the more education we get, the more empowered we will be to better serve others.

The conclusion about these waymarks is the reaffirmation that I am heading in the right direction in my intellectual and spiritual quests to unfold my mind and spiritual perspectives.

Filling the Triangle - My Spiritual Quest (by Kialei)

2008-12-16T22:09:00.000-08:00

While pondering my spiritual quest, there were a lot of seemingly unconnected ideas that kept running through my mind. Rather than let them remain in their state of chaos and distract me from accomplishing anything else, I decided to start writing what came to mind and see what happened.

First off, something I believe very strongly and see examples of daily – happiness is a choice. Our Father in Heaven loves us and wants us to be happy, and He has set up a glorious and perfect plan for us to do so. While He has laid out the framework, however, it is up to us to take advantage of that and do what is necessary.

Another thing I have a huge testimony of is free agency. We make our own choices and are made to endure the consequences of said choices – good or bad. They say blessings are brought to pass through others. President Kimball told us, “The Lord answers our prayers, but it is usually through another person that he meets our needs.”

I think the same holds true with tribulation. One person’s personal tests in life result in another’s joy or heartbreak, depending on if the first person passes or fails. The example that comes to my mind is rape – it isn’t that God is punishing the victim, it’s that one person made a horrible choice and another person is made to suffer the consequences. While this may seem unfair, it is the only way that agency can work. In order to make good choices, there must be an option to make bad ones. By making good choices with our agency, we help others on the path to happiness. By making bad choices, we make their journey more difficult.

Next, the subject of service has been on my mind a lot lately. Every time I feel unproductive, unhappy, or frustrated with the way my life is going, I always seem to realize that, if I did more service, I would be happier. This logic is twofold – first, we are told that blessings come from service, and second, when we focus on others rather than ourselves, we always seem to find that we are more upbeat, have a better attitude and perspective, and feel better about ourselves. The result: service equals happiness.

After looking over the written manifestation of the workings of my brain, my initial thought was, “wow, back to square one, this is just a bunch of random concepts, not material for a presentation.” After a little more reflection, however, I began to see the connection – and the connection suddenly made perfect sense with the progress I have made this semester.

Here we go. Try to stay with me.

The Lord has given us all individual talents and abilities. Each of us has the ability to help people in different ways, and there are things we can do for others that no one else can do. Often, we find that the ways in which Christ strengthened us are the ways in which we can help others. Based on our experiences, knowledge, natures, and blessings from the Lord, we are more sensitive and in-tune with those needs in other people, and we have the desire to do our part to fill that need.

It’s like a triangle, with “God”, “me/you,” and “others” as the vertices, with whatever our talent is filling in the center. Christ strengthens us in whatever area we need, and we, in turn, can help others in the same way.

For me, the triangle seems to be filled with empathy. The Lord has been so kind, loving, and understanding to me throughout my life, especially in a few particularly memorable situations. Because of this, I feel like I have a heightened desire to relate and empathize with friends and acquaintances that are having a hard time. I have been blessed with the ability to recognize many problems that people are having and figure out subtle ways to provide assistance.

As I have recognized this extra sense that I seem to possess, my next step is to put this blessing into action. It is one thing to recognize a need but quite another to actually do something about it. However, where much is given, much is required, and I am starting to realize that, if I let this God-given talent go to waste, I will be rejecting Christ and what He has done to strengthen me in this area. It’s my job to uncover these talents and build upon them – asking the Lord for help, exerting effort, and putting them into practice.

I guess that’s the point, really. Christ helps us in ways that we don’t even recognize. But when we do recognize His hand in our lives, we learn from it and are grateful. That gratitude and newly acquired knowledge inspire us to improve ourselves and help others in the process. Because of the assistance that we are given, we are able to pass that assistance on to others… and the Lord’s love, empathy, and mercy are spread to all His children.

My Quest: To Love God

2008-12-16T21:50:00.001-08:00

Mark12:30 "And thou shalt love the Lord with all they heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment"

Levels of Motivation

Riches and Honor
Good Companionship
Fear of Punishment
Sense of Duty
Eternal Reward
Charity

1 John 4:10 "Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us..."
Becoming Like Christ

Intellectual Quest Blog

2008-12-16T17:22:00.001-08:00

This semester, I read Lakota Woman by Mary Crow Dog. Initially, this is what sparked my intellectual quest. The book is mostly about the life for Mary Crow Dog, but it also mentions the American Indian Movement (AIM). AIM is a Native American activist organization who stood up for the rights of Native Americans around the country, because at the time the Native American’s rights were being ignored. As a result of their efforts, AIM created many opportunities for Native Americans. In fact, I believe that, if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
Reading this book I could not help but become angry at what happened to Native Americans, especially while reading about the discrimination and injustice that they faced. Right away, I felt a need to contribute something to Native Americans, just as the AIM did. However, I felt that there was nothing I could do.
My mother had read this book also; therefore I expressed my frustration of wanting to help but also feeling that there is nothing for me to do. She was the person who pointed out that another purpose of the AIM movement was to educate those Native Americans of their rights that they themselves were not aware of. It was then that I realized that I may not be able to help other native Americans like the AIM did, but I can help by getting an education and then going back to my reservation to spread that knowledge to my people. Thus, this is what is at the heart of my intellectual quest; learning so that I may help others.

Final: My Quests

2008-12-16T17:18:00.000-08:00

During this semester I've learned a great deal and my quest has helped motivate me along the path of that learning.

My spiritual quest:
One of my goals in my spiritual quest was so give my spirit and the convictions of my soul a voice. I've always wanted to help give a voice to the voiceless, to make known the story of those who couldn't make their stories known. I feel that before we can give a voice to others we have to find our own and help our hearts speak out just as well as our mind already can. Through my writing this semester I've started to find ways to express my experiences, feelings and beliefs.

My intellectual quest:
Another of my goals was to strengthen my desire to learn. I believe I have begun to accomplish this as well. I've wanted to learn for learning's sake, not just for a grade or for a test. One of the greatest helps to me this semester was writing the David O. McKay essay. I had to learn so much to write it and make it sound good (at least to myself). I had to learn about myself and about each of the things I wrote about. I did research to broaden my mind and enrich the topic. I didn't even use all of the things that I learned in the essay, but they did help to make it better. Learning has continued to strengthen my mind.

I've also wanted to further develop my abilities as a creative writer and increase my capacity to play with language and use it as a tool of expression. Through practice I feel I've also been successful in this goal.

The whole: as seen from one of its parts

2008-12-16T17:16:00.000-08:00

Note: the red font segments may be somewhat annoying, but they have a useful purpose. I will follow them as an outline of sorts during the presentation. Rather than read the entire blog, I will just make sure I touch on each of those main highlighted points.

In my first year of college, in the liberal arts tradition, I approached learning with a feeling of wholeness. The college gave each freshman student a cohort group of twelve to twenty others, and as cohorts we studied a wide range of subjects. Following each other from class to class, we linked commonalities between varying subject matter.

The campus community read one text that year, Barbara Kingsolver’s Poisonwood Bible, and we incorporated it into our biology, writing, history, social sciences, etc. This framework of a common text between common students and teachers gave a universal language and sense of wholeness to our learning experience. After transferring from that school to come to BYU, I still worked to create for myself such a cohort experience as much as I could in the midst of a spacious student body. By researching teachers, classes, and study buddies’ schedules, I have found each semester marked by a sense of wholeness. Instead of having my education categorized—"first I walk to Statistics, then attend Research Methods, then do homework for Adolescent Development," and so forth—I have rejoiced in examining the areas of overlap between subjects. In bringing every separate subject and teacher into a realm of shared themes, I have enhanced my learning as a whole.

This semester, I decided to create a cohort theme based on increasing my understanding of morality. Therefore, I carefully researched the most quality teachers and courses and ultimately enrolled in:
· Moral Development, a research-based course
· Moral Foundations, a philosophical slant on the same research
· Writing the Quest (including documentation of the spiritual, or moral journey)
· Research Assistantship (under the direction of Dr. James Harper and the “Flourishing Families” project, I analyze the behavior of parents and children, making moral judgment calls on the positive and negative aspects of their interactions as a trained coder)

All these classes complement each other beautifully . The threads I have woven to tie them together as a whole have included theories of guilt and redemption, a recognition of humans as relational beings, and a notation of God’s intention for families, among other moral themes.

The idea of seeking wholeness in education is reminiscent of fractal patterns, a mathematical concept in which a part of the whole bears sameness to the whole. A snowflake is a fractal pattern; an ocean’s musical wave sounds are fractal patterns. And God is like a fractal pattern, with each of his children being parts of His whole, branching out like snowflake lace from a single molecular center, tumbling from the sky in a chorus of angel voices. The ideal of wholeness also transcends modern times, as most ancient art demonstrates merging between the spiritual and the everyday aspects of people's lives. Only recently have the nations attempted to compartmentalize spirituality, or propose a separation of private and public lives.

My spiritual quest, in keeping with the theme of examining morality, has involved seeing myself as a moral being, capable of making good choices or bad. As a child of God, I often feel more inclined to follow my inherent divinity and choose “the good.” When I choose rightly, I feel in harmony with the whole earth, in love with God, humanity, and learning. In contrast, when I stray from goodness, I tend to feel discord in my sense of wholeness. I experience a feeling of broken separation from God and others, and a lack of unity in my both my spiritual and intellectual parts. Such feelings of discomfort motivate me to get back in line with the fractal pattern of which I am a part. My quest this semester, both intellectual and spiritual (for they are both part of the same pattern!) has been to join the various parts of my life together in a beautiful whole.

My Spiritual and Intellectual Quest.

2008-12-16T17:14:00.000-08:00

Intellectual Quest.

As a young girl I thought that I had a career picked out. I knew what I wanted and I had a plan to get it. Then the years started to pass by and my view of the world, my abilities, and the career I had chosen, changed. I started to change my mind back and forth, not being able to decide what I wanted to do. So this semester I thought that I would take several classes to help me make up my mind. As I took these classes I explored my options and found myself becoming more and more indecisive. I know that I want to do something that will help people. I want to do my share of good in the world. Yet there career that I had been looking into isn't always viewed that way. People wouldn't look at my career path and say, "Now there goes someone who wants to do good for the world." It doesn't even have to be the world. One person at a time would be fine.

Then as the semester progressed I realized that I didn't need require that my career let me do this. I could do it on my own without the help of a career. I could find time outside of work to do little acts of service. I did it in high school so why not in the job field. I have finally chosen my career and I am sticking to it. I might have to work harder and do more, but in the end it will be worth it. I might not like it at times, but I will be able to help somebody. My intellectual quest this year was finding out what the rest of my life would look like. It was finding goals and setting them. My intellectual quest has stemmed a greater quest and goal towards the near and distant future.

My Spiritual Quest

My spiritual quest was not as easy to find or define. I thought about the focus of my McKay essay and thought that the subject that I had written on would be my quest. Yet as I thought I realized that it wasn't quite right. I had one instance in my life that was part of my quest, but it didn't make up the quest entirely. Then, it came to me. My quest is trying to find where what I want in life and what the Lord wants for me, meet up. What I want and what He wants could be the same thing, but at different times. It happens so often in life. Where I desire one thing, but instead get another, or get what I want at a later time in life. The time table to Him is totally different from ours, and his is the only one that matters.

I also think that my quest had to parts. The other rooted from talking and arguing with friends about the heated subjects that our country has produced in the last few months. I find it easier to argue with stranger and to stand up for what you believe in because you don't know them as well, and as much as you don't want to hurt anyone's feelings or put down anyone's opinions, it is easier to express your own with out those worries if it is with someone you don't know as well. Yet debating with your friends is a whole different matter. I found it hard to try to not offend them but still stick to what I believed. However, I had chosen my stance long before the issue came up. I wasn't going to be fence-sitter. The Lord doesn't need fence-sitters. He need people who will stand up and chose a side. It is hard to do when the side of the fence you choose, isn't the one your friends choose, but it has to be done.

The Fellowship of the Unashamed
author unknown

I'm part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
The die has been cast.
I have stepped over the line.
The decision has been made.
I'm a disciple of Jesus Christ.
I have the Holy Spirit'S Power.
I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.

My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, and my future is secure.
I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colourless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.
I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits or popularity.
I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded or rewarded.
I now live by faith, lean on His presence, love with patience, live by prayer and labour with power.
My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough,
my companions are few, my Guide is reliable, and my mission is clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deterred, diluted or delayed.
I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I won't give up, shut up, let up, or slow up until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up and spoken up for the cause of Christ.
I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.
I must go till' He comes, give till' I drop, preach till' all know and work till' He stops me.
And when He comes for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me.
My banner is clear: "I am not ashamed of the Gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes.."
I am part of the 'Fellowship of the Unashamed.'

My intellectual quest, and spiritual quest (Cindy Hurst)

2008-12-16T13:10:00.000-08:00

My Intellectual Quest

I knew far more as a child than I know now. Thus, I have been reverting to my childhood passions. Back then I was told I was gifted, and somehow I think I became lost as a teenager, attempting to use logic to explain my future.

When I was a young child, all I wanted was to be an artist. However, the adults of my world somehow managed to channel that passion and desire into becoming something more useful. Thus I started college as an engineer, and found the artist in me suffocated, and threatening to bring the rest of me to its grave with it as its last dieing wish. That’s when I first realized the errors in logic learned by the world, and left the University of Utah to come to BYU (another lost childhood desire) to study Industrial Design.

Creating has become my intellectual quest. Industrial design uses very little of the years I dedicated to becoming an engineer in high school and then in college, but I do not regret my decision to become a more artistic creator. It is my passion. Sometime ago I decided that if you are not happy, then do something else.

I do not memorize equations to solve derivatives and integrals. I explore forms, beauty, and simplicity. I do not record and analyze data. I research to discover why people are so willing to work around obvious and often overlooked problems, and attempt to find better solutions. I do not stay up late working on spreadsheets or programming. I pull all-nighters hoping to allow my project to approach perfection just a little closer. I am an Industrial Designer, and I love it.

My Spiritual Quest

At the end of the skiing season last year I decided to get my level 1 certification as a ski instructor. I didn’t expect much from the clinic I was required to attend. Level 1 skiing includes lots of snowplowing, and very basic skiing maneuvers. However, I learned more in that single day of skiing than I did in all of Sunday school as a child. My instructor explained to us this very basic concept:

When you are skiing, there are only three types of movement: movement in the right direction, movement in the wrong direction, and no movement at all. When you are skiing, your goal is to be moving downhill. You must constantly be moving towards that goal as you transition from edge to edge. This is movement in the right direction. Often times we try to sit too far backwards, and are actually hindering our ability to make it to our goal easily. This is movement in the wrong direction. Sometimes we choose no movement at all. This is lazy skiing. When we are not constantly moving towards our goal, we become off balance from the tiny bumps we encounter, and are actually spending more energy than what is necessary to counter our off-balance, which often throws us into the wrong direction.

I’m not sure exactly when it hit me but standing on that mountain that day I felt God speaking to me through my level 1 instructor, telling me that the reason I have fallen multiple times after being so strong in the past, was my lack of constant movement towards Christ. Often times, when I had started feeling good about my level of spirituality, I had chosen to try to maintain that level. However, maintaining is the same thing as no movement at all. It is only when I am constantly trying to be a better person, and come closer to Christ, that I am able to conquer the bumps that I hit throughout my life.

Spiritual & Intellectual Quest

2008-12-16T13:04:00.000-08:00

As a goddess in embryo, it is my spiritual quest to find favor in the sight of my Father. Through a life of discipleship, virtue, and holiness, I am preparing to enter the highest degree of the Celestial Kingdom of God.

My quest is like a tiny golden seed budding almost unnoticed. Though nurtured meekly in the shadows of this world’s lime light, its branches will one day reach the heavens, basking in the true light of God’s glory.

In my spiritual quest there are lives I seek to emulate. Like Rachel, who was “beautiful and well favored (Genesis 39:17),” and Mary, “most beautiful and fair above all . . .” I want to find beauty and favor in God’s eyes. The temptations of this world are my ever present, but only in righteousness is true happiness found ( Alma 41:10), and only in virtue is worth far above jewels ( Proverbs 31:10).

My intellectual quest is to know the mind and will of God. Christ beacons, “be perfect,” even as He and the Father (3 Nephi 12:48). My quest is to be obedient to His will, for in so doing I will have obtained this perfection, and will surely hear Him say “Come unto me, ye blessed, there is a place prepared for you in the mansions of my Father” (Enos 1:27).

In an effort to find God, to know God, I desire to access the conduit of communication separating conscious reality from my supernal higher intelligence. I will seek Him through prayer, as it is my ever present lifeline with deity, and meditation, as it is “one of the most secret, most sacred doors through which we pass into the presence of the Lord” Clare Middlemiss, Man May Know for Himself, comp. [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1969], 22-23).”

My intellectual quest is an aura, transparent, yet florid. My quest is an ambiance of light and knowledge, manifest by the energy and power of God. My quest encompasses all, the galaxy itself being merely a particle. It is that which cannot be created, even intelligence, which was from the beginning.

My life I’ve spent searching, wondering, what gift has God given me? I think I am finally starting to understand.

By inspiration, I travel my intellectual and spiritual quest as a writer (Moses 6:5). This is how I share with the world. I want to write “according to that which will be dictated by [God’s]
Spirit . . . (Doctrine & Covenants 104:81).” My writing is a way to give voice for people who cannot speak, like my mother. She has lived a quiet life, never graduating with a prestigious degree, or traveling to far off places. She loves to write, yet has never been published. She loves to paint, but without a name. My mother dedicated her life to raising ten children up unto The Lord. She lives in our shadows, often questioning her own worth and what she will leave behind, but when I write, her sacrifices are no longer unknown. When I write I paint the picture of all she has done, and I set her free, and she cries.

In my quest, I must contribute to the quest of God’s church. I am here at this great university to learn to speak and write that I might more proficiently proclaim the gospel in Chinese. I will continue to redeem the dead through vicarious service in the House of God. I will write for my ancestors; I will tell the stories of all those who long to speak from the dust’s cumbering silence. I will perfect the saints through my righteous example, through the things God shows me, and the things I share.

This semester has helped me to discover some of my innate spiritual gifts. I am grateful for the opportunity to record my quest, for a goal without being written down is just a fleeting dream. I’m finding that to know who I am, and the purpose of my mortal sojourn, makes all the difference in the world.

Spiritual & Intellectual Quest

2008-12-16T09:22:00.000-08:00

Spiritual Quest

My spiritual quest is to be happy as I live the commandments of God. My quest is a conglomeration of recognizing the Lord in my life and trying to learn and become what he would have me learn and become. As I reflect on my spiritual quest I see that there are many constants that permeate my life that bring me joy and peace. Some of these constants are: prayer, church attendance, scripture reading, and random tender mercies of the Lord. These constants always bless my life and help me to grow spiritually. I find that often my quest does not go where I want it to go, but rather my Father shows me what I need to know. My quest for spiritual growth and happiness has most recently been defined by God’s tender mercies. For example:
· Conference talks at school
· Exercise science reading packet
· Interacting with the Missionaries at the MTC (Himnos y más)

These experiences have helped me to grow closer to the Lord on a daily basis. Furthermore, they have helped to give me the hope and courage necessary for life’s daily adventures.

Intellectual Quest

My intellectual quest has been to gain lasting knowledge rather than just fleeting factual information. I want to learn the subject material thoroughly. I do not want to cram for a test and lose all of that knowledge two weeks down the road. My quest is truly to learn. I do not know where I read this quote, but it exemplifies my quest. “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.” If I fail to prepare and do not study well, I will not learn. I may pass a test but the knowledge I seek will not stay with me. My intellectual quest this semester has led me to study with a purpose and do beyond the bare minimum required for the coveted “A” grade. As I have approached learning with a more long term point of view, I have noticed that I enjoy my classes much more and I am truly gaining a working knowledge.

Revised Abstract

2008-12-09T06:33:00.000-08:00

Title: The Naturalization of a Citizen of the World (or, Travels)

Background:

I was originally planning to do a re-write of a paper I wrote for my IAS 220 class on AIDS in Senegal; however, once the Mayhew contest was announced in class I started toying with the idea of doing a series of shorter poems instead. In these poems, I will attempt to capture both the feel of and (parts of) my experiences in different countries to which I have traveled.

Purpose:

To artfully recreate and share what I have experienced and learned through my travels.

Method:

I will use different poem styles (haiku, hymn, free, and others) to capture the feel of different countries and present them in a series.

Mayhew contest abstract revised

2008-12-08T18:09:00.000-08:00

I chose to do an Edgar Allen Poe type poem, and use the rhyme scheme he used in "The Raven." I focused on love and the surreal feeling the concept of love is. Love is too perfect of an idea to feel as an actuality, a truth. It seems never to go the way that you plan it out to be, and you are always left in a rot. I chose to do a poem on the concepts that love entails or what people make it out to be. I also like the imagery Poe has with the Raven, which is a night object so I chose to copy the imagery of an animal, and in my case it is a cat. I also will probably do a shorter poem following the style of A.A. Milne and have a childrens poem which is completely different from the cynical type of poem's that Poe writes.

abstract. revised

2008-12-08T09:26:00.000-08:00

I had posted a story earlier, but for some reason the other day this idea popped into my mind. It seemed kind of dark at first, but the more I thought and wrote it, the more I wanted to see where it lead.
The idea came to me in the form of a title. "The Interview" was the name that came to mind.
It would be a short story that would hopefully get people thinking in a subtle way. It is about someone who has a chance to interview the adversary. The questions are how? and why? How is he planning to try and disrupt the plan, and why would these things work. I want to bring these subjects to the front of the minds of the readers with out accusing anyone of anything. I will post a little bit on the drafts blog. Tell me what you think

Abstract – Mayhew Contest (Revised)

2008-12-07T18:32:00.000-08:00

I have completely had a change of heart. Originally, I was content with the idea of using a past research paper – on Alcoholic Liver Cirrhosis – to fulfill the Conference paper requirement, after all it would be less work on my part.

However, after hearing about the Mayhew Contest, I decided that it would be much more fun to write a short story, and a nice change of scenery to the science research papers that I am used to. Also, creative writing was always my favorite thing to do in secondary school English classes. If my dream was not to become a doctor, then I probably would pursue being an author of children’s books. I may even get to do both someday.

I chose to write a young adult’s mystery, which I have titled: “The Lemon Drop Kids and the Mystery of the Black Hooded Shadow”. I have always loved to read fiction, especially as a child, and going to the library to check out multiple books at a time was a highlight for me. I even had this goal, as a child, to try and read all of the books in the children’s section at our small community library. I never made it, but I think I came pretty close.

Mysteries have always been one of my favorite genres to read, I used to read series such as “The Boxcar Children” and “Nancy Drew” and so thought it would be interesting, and challenging to write one of my own. However, I knew that having a maximum of six thousand words would be difficult to work with.

Conference Paper Abstract Revised

2008-12-05T10:32:00.001-08:00

Title: Music is Key to Learning

Background:

For years people have done studies researching the positive effects of music education. The Utah Legislature is currently trying to remove the elective (music) classes from the curriculum, and this will greatly hinder a child’s learning capabilities.

Purpose:

I will prove to the Utah Legislature and all readers, that music education in the school is vital to a child’s education and overall success in life.

Method:

I will study previous research, read studies, gather quotes, organize facts, and present statistics that will prove how a child’s life is enhanced by music education.

Anticipated Results:

I plan to demonstrate that music education has positive effects on every facet of a child’s life: math, reading, memory, spatial relationships, coordination, self-esteem, discipline, and relationships with peers.

I am going to create my own blog to present my research to a broad audience.

McKay Essay: Climbing With Patience

2008-12-04T08:07:00.000-08:00

David O. McKay Essay: Draft 4

The Restored Gospel and Applied Christianity

Climbing With Patience

Before climbing Mt. Kilamanjaro I didn’t know what patience was. “Polay, polay” the porter calls. We continue at our pace despite his warning to slow down. The tropical rainforest of the friendly day now lurks over our heads with mysterious fear in the dark, frigid night. Our ears hear the earth moan beneath us, our feet covered in mud now freezing over. I slip on the trail, my frostbitten hands feeling for the unprotected roots of a nearby tree found with the aid of my headlamp. “Polay, polay!” resonates again in my aching ears, as I fail to obey the literal meaning of these words: “slow down, slow down!” I found patience to be a controlled, diligent ascent with hope for what lies ahead. Patience is the ability to climb with gratitude a mountain’s obstacles, appreciating the journey at even a slow pace. Patience is needed to climb the mountain successfully, taking time to help others along the way. Patience is a manifestation of love.

“Hold your horses,” “Keep your shirt on,” “Slow down,” “Don’t be in such a hurry,” “Follow the rules,” “Be careful” are more than trite expressions. They describe sincere counsel and speak the wisdom of experience.” (Thomas S. Monson)

The highest peak in Africa brings opportunities for wise counsel to be followed or discarded. Despite continual exhortations, we continue quickly, greedy with empty stomachs seeking to be filled. We know the camp is near. As the terrain becomes steeper, our mountain guide cries more firmly “Polay! Polay!” Our eyes cannot see the narrow ridge ahead, as we climb without the wisdom of experience. Soon thereafter, “Help!!” a panicked cry sounds amidst our group. “Help! Helllllp!” a screeching cry is put to a halt with the strong dark hands of the savior in the night. The strong porter who dropped everything else he was carrying at the sound of a frantic cry, now labors to pull a wayward climber back up over the ledge she hadn’t seen. Bushes ruffle in the dark night, and excitement resonates within our group of frightened mountaineers. The one wayward mountaineer is a good representation of the entire group who chose not to follow several of the previous warnings.

------------------------

Roosters crow disrupting the silence of the dark night, now beginning to stir with the anticipation of morning. Acatia trees are illuminated along the horizon as morning awakes. Babies cry, children’s feet shuffle along dirt roads sending stones rolling down the road to school. Thump, thump, thump…empty cans bounce on the rear of a donkey traveling for water with the loud snap of a whip coming from a small boy hearding livestock. A hustle and bustle along the main road is felt as smiles and greetings exchange on the way to the market.

A street dog yawns and stretches after being awakened by the sound of howling rubber tires and honking horns along the main road. My neck jerks suddenly, my resting eyes now made alert, my heart begins to race at the sound of shrilling brakes, my body forced from the left to the right. “Not again,” I thought. With the tilt of a wrist my watch mocks our tardy state; each second seems as a year while we wait again for livestock to clear the road. Our driver smiles while we watch each tick of the clock with unrest. Impatience is a choice.

“Patience may well be thought of as a gateway virtue, contributing to the growth and strength of its fellow virtues of forgiveness, tolerance, and faith.” (Robert C. Oaks)

Finally at the base of Mount Kilamanjaro Abdu, gives his hand to be greeted differently than most men do. He humbly offers the stub of his right arm ending just before the elbow’s usual formation. I shake, taking little time to act surprised at the feel of a limp, spongy stub. We exchange quick friendly greetings, and Abdu expresses his positive outlook on life as he cheerfully swings my week’s belongings onto his back. “We are go now!” he declares with a grin; for Abdu there is always time for optimism.

Right, left, right, left…step-by-step we ascend. The entire group works together to progress up the mountain, traveling at a pace to accommodate several different abilities. I feel held back, and easily frustrated with stops along the way. Abdu stops to point out flowers of purple, blue, yellow, and bright pink defeating steep cliffs, boulders, and switchbacks. “Zey grow up de mountain togezer slow and so do we” he states. He sees what I don’t in the cold morning shade.

Fallen leaves frozen over, crunch under our feet, yearning for the day’s first warmth of the sun. Light brings a new perspective to time. The morning mist lifts, revealing the trail more clearly. My legs itch with excitement, pushing me forward despite the wise counsel given the group to patiently ascend together. Butterflies of vibrant colors effortlessly flutter us by, traveling up the mountain ahead, and I long to join them. Fed up with the slow (yet steady) pace, I justify my leap ahead. “I want to be first to the top!” I don’t see that I must have others to help me ascend - to wait for Abdu seems foolish. He remains with the group, helping others along and cheerfully educating those he leads in broken English. Exquisite birds soar with their glorious orange, turquoise and deep black feathers, cheering my flight through their long beaks. I feel their approval and rationalize it to be enough.

“Patience must be our constant companion during the journey which carries us toward that great goal, “Continue in patience until ye are perfected,” [which is] the counsel the Lord gave, (Doctrine & Covenants 67:13).” Angel Abrea

Without the companionship of patience, the path seems clearly marked with signs the first few miles until it splits in two and the empty reality of my solo race sets in. I wait for a moment. A drop of dew from the tropical foliage above startles me on my forehead. Unfamiliar animals screech, and their shrill-like commune echoes from all directions. Flowers, trees, and bushes, I perceive to be closing in on my path, hiding unknown dangers. What was beautiful and adventurous begins to threaten as my distance from the group lengthens. “What should I do? I cannot stop! Not now! This is just the beginning.” My young mind rivets on the summit with still 17,000 feet to go. The euphoria of solitude on Africa’s highest ascent fills my being with selfish ambition as I pass by others without asking who I may be able to help. Yet, I know that to be perfected alone is impossible.

“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” Hebrews 12:1 (Paul)

Scurrying up the mountain, I neglect to sight the grey clouds above which descend to damper my adventurous high with the heavens’ release of humility. A downpour of golf-ball size rain drops and the thunderous growl of the angry sky chasten me. Through fierce winds and rains, I swallow, pausing to catch my breath. Slipping and falling on several occasions in my attempt to climb through the storm on my own, thick mud covers my feet, my hands, and my arms and legs. I stop…I pray….this great cloud is to great to conquer alone.

Climbing with patience is climbing with hope; the two are inseparable. The word “esperar” in the Spanish language contributes to the relationship between hope and patience with its two definitions: “to wait for” or “to hope for.” Climbing the highest peak in Peru a few years after attempting Mt. Kilamanjaro, I found myself waiting and hoping for the peak’s glorious outlook, while still finding joy in the slow-paced journey. While Wynapichu is a much smaller mountain, it still presents the same challenges that come with a group climb, patiently working together to ascend.

I descend back towards the group with damaged pride and feeling defeat. Patience often requires repentance. I realize the climb up Mt. Kilamanjaro is not a race, but a journey that must be paced. Patience is a virtue I now seek through action, rather than waiting for it to find me. Brushing a clump of mud from my brow with my right forearm, I smile at my hard-working friend Abdu (who looks no fatigue). “Jambo!” I declare after using my limited native vocabulary to express my apologies for disregarding his previous counsel. The surrounding porters chuckle at my mud-covered appearance, and we laugh together while continuing the ascent. Their abounding enthusiasm and optimism through the storm helps our group endure the storm with dilligence. Thunder, and then another flash of light, opens the heavens. We prevail with patience the giant drops of water amidst the beautiful, lush and green rainforests. Our surroundings seem no longer threatening, but beautiful, mixing culture and harvesting respect and hope through the storm.

“Tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope.” Romans 5:3-4

“Polay, polay” the porter calls. The storm now clear, we desire to make up for lost time in the hours of the evening. We continue at our quick pace despite his warning to slow down. The tropical rainforest of the friendly day now lurks over our heads with mysterious fear in the dark, frigid night. Our ears hear the earth moan beneath us, our feet covered in frozen mud. Climbing a steep ascent of the trail, my frostbitten hands feeling for the unprotected roots of a nearby tree found with the aid of my headlamp. “Polay, polay” resonates again in my ears made numb with the cold. Despite continual exhortations, we continue quickly, greedy with empty stomachs seeking to be filled. We know the camp is near. As the terrain becomes steeper, our mountain guide cries more firmly “Polay! Polay!” Our eyes cannot see the narrow ridge ahead. “Help!!” a panicked cry sounds amidst our group. “Help! Helllllp!” a screeching cry is put to a halt with the strong dark hands of the savior in the night. Trial and tribulation make it evident that we are weak and in need of some greater source of guidance to lead us through our experience.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

The strong porter who dropped everything else he was carrying at the sound of a frantic cry, now labored to pull a wayward climber back up over the ledge she hadn’t seen. As bushes are ruffled in the dark night, and grunts of exertion sound from the guide, excitement resonates within our group of still, frightened mountaineers. Success temporarily relieves fear; we know that God’s hand is with us despite our failure to follow instruction. He will not let us fail if we will heed His guidance. We continue the night’s adventure once more, now walking on a frozen trail as if it were a path of egg shells, carefully listening to the counsel of our guide with each step. “Polay! Polay!” is all we can think or say or do in hopes that with patience we may avoid another wayward incident. Patience is stillness, carefully listening along the way.

“Be patient in afflictions, for thou shalt have many; but endure them, for, lo, I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days.” Doctrine & Covenants 24:8

Scattered among rocks big and small by God’s omnipotent hand, the seeds of truth lay unseen, humbly hidden by the brilliance of something grandeous, picturesque and magnificent. The new day brings new perspective. My eyes are open to beauties passed by the day before. The beauty and warmth of light end the bitter night and bring optimism to postlude the life-endangering dark despair. The hours of darkness our group begrudged poorly with complaint and murmur, were endured by the mountain guides, who remained constant, calm and content. I ask Abdu how he does it. “Practeece” he replies. “I climb dis mountain so many timez…and alwayz God, He be zer.” Patience is enduring well without end, and thus, patience takes practice.

Before beginning our ascent with new ears and fresh eyes, Abdu approaches our group with a heavy head. His usual sanguine and upbeat persona was covered by uncertainty and concern on his face. We wait for his command to rally us up the mountain together….but it never comes. “We don’t go today up” he shares. Silence…. “We go today down” he speaks softly with disappointment. The executive decision that our group was not strong enough to continue with the difficult terrain and weather ahead, brought disillusionment, distress, and discontent. Frustration escalates to become anger amidst the group, targeting Abdu.

“Anger can be conquered by developing patience and sincerely desiring to love others more than self.” Gordon T. Watts

“You are not fail!” cried Abdu in an attempt to lift our spirits. “We go!” He would not let us feel defeat. Regretting our previous day’s mistakes, we follow Abdu back down the mountain against our own will. We trust Abdu and we feel his loving concern. Anger in our downtrodden hearts melts away with the rising sun. Abdu stops to point out flowers of purple, blue, yellow, and bright pink winding their way down from steep cliffs, boulders, and switchbacks. “Zey grow down de mountain togezer slow, and we go ze same way.” He sees what we don’t in the cold morning shade with boundless patience as we descend.

The Lord said, “Ye are not able to abide the presence of God now, neither the ministering of angels; wherefore, continue in patience until ye are perfected,

(D&C 67:13).” This is good advice for all of us. (Cecil O. Samuelson)

I patiently await the day of return to climb Mount Kilamanjaro, with active hope that the opportunity to summit presents itself. Retrospectively I see that I was not prepared. Before this climbing experience I often took for granted many of the beauties around me, without taking the time to stop and take in the grandeur of my current position. While I still fall short, often anticipating the next step in climbing life’s mountain, I have learned to find joy in the journey up life’s mountains, enduring the storms and stopping to help others along the way. If I proceed patiently, I know God’s loving hand will guide me to the summit of all mountains…even if it takes a multiple attempts to summit.

Revised Abstract

2008-11-25T13:47:00.000-08:00

ETHIOPIA: ARE NON-GOVERNMENTAL ORGANIZATIONS PROMOTING DEPENDENCY RATHER THAN SUSTAINABILITY?”

Rachael Dailey Goodwin (Dr. Ralph Brown, Sociology Dept, Brigham Young University)

According to US Embassy reports, the economic stability of Ethiopia in recent years has taken a turn for the worse, despite the increased number of NGOs operating to help provide stability. Are NGOs promoting dependency rather than sustainability? Ethiopia is a country rich in natural resources but poor in economy, infrastructure, and leadership. Non-governmental organizations set out to implement their own projects, while the government takes a different approach. While NGOs and Ethiopian Government point fingers at each other, the Ethiopian people continue to suffer. Through personal observation, interviewing those involved with NGOs operating in Ethiopia, and researching scholarly approved case studies of NGO projects, I will outline the positive and negative consequences of NGO operations and I shall better define the relationship between NGOs and the Ethiopian government.

Scenes of the Quest

2008-11-15T17:48:00.000-08:00

The Letters of Joseph Smith

2008-11-10T23:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I learned once more the value of writing. The priesthood lesson was about Joseph Smith's letters to his wife Emma.
Those letters were not written having in mind any other audience but Emma, still they disclose the mind, feelings and experience of the prophet.
Regardless the circumstances in which they were written, they survived the pass of time. I wondered what it had happened if the prophet had lived his life continuously at home. He had never written such letters and we had not had our priesthood lesson about his letters obviously, but not only that, we had missed to learn from those letters some aspects of the life of the prophet that today they reveal.
There is a magic in writing that brings the writer back to present.
There is a power in writing that no intelligent man can deny.

Proposal: This is Why I Write (Revised)

2008-11-07T16:22:00.000-08:00

“Poetry is language condensed.” It’s photography of the heart, for it captures a moment of beauty and sifts the meaning from it. There is, perhaps, a common misconception that literary devices are for their own sakes; that they’re frosting on the cake, paint on the walls, ribbons in poetry’s hair. Not so. Neither are devices vain displays. They are the magnifying glass essential for shaping life’s diamonds. They are the mahogany with which we construct poetry.
I write because I love the feeling I get from a finished product. If I can write something beautiful, perhaps there’s a part of me that’s beautiful too. If I can write something worthwhile, perhaps I have value. If, miraculously, I can write something divine, perhaps, someday, I can find my divinity.
Don’t mistake me, writing is difficult. Like forcing myself to look in the mirror when I first wake up, it’s a painful experience. Through language, I confront me. And far too often, I despise what I see. Why then, do I continue to write? I write because when I do not, part of me dies. I am the rosebush and poetry is my flower. Without it, my thorny experiences aren’t worthwhile.
And then there are the moments, the springtimes, when I am in full bloom. At these instants I speak with the sun. He gives me life and I teach him of love: through poetry.

david o mckay

2008-11-06T03:01:00.000-08:00

My David O. McKay paper will have focus on the aspects of “The Media and Its Effects on the youth.” My major is in print journalism, and I chose to go into this field because of the want to use the media in order to help the self confidence of young women. Overall, I feel the media has had negative effects on the self confidence of women, but I do believe that America is doing a better job of it (having positive effects) than many other countries. I would also like to see the rates of suicide, negative reactions such as eating disorders, self mutilation, etc., of America women and see those rates in comparison to other countries as well. I would use statistics, studies on women and the media, hopefully finding studies that deal with both, and will also use certain media outlets which voice out the opinions of young women. These media outlets have women who use these outlets religiously and have decided to use the outlets to speak and therefore have been affected by these media outlets the most. I would also like to conduct some interviews on young women to see how much of the media is affecting women in our own neighbourhood. Therefore, I would like to see media’s effects on women, a comparison of those effects according to different countries, and hear firsthand accounts of what the media is actually doing to the women of young today. I believe I will find that the media does indeed have negative results, but I believe that I will come to find surprisingly good results where I least expect it. I also believe that America and other western countries will do well in the amount of good impacts the media has, because of the western belief in a higher being creating the rules of which we must adhere to. I would also like to see how the media has affected the youth throughout history, and changed the ideas of sexual taboos, what kinds of behaviour is allotted, what we can and can’t do with our bodies, and how religion is involved in our lives. I will then tie that all into the gospel principle on beauty of all of Heavenly Father’s creations. He loved us so much and created us the way we are. We must be thankful and we must realize that we are perfect the way we are. We must still however not abuse our bodies because we believe that we can do whatever we want because that’s just the way we are. We must remember that we need to be healthy such as follow the Word of Wisdom and adhere to the other commandments Heavenly Father has given us, because through following we can be truly beautiful. We must also remember that beauty is within as well and by abiding by Heavenly Father’s rules, we can become beautiful within and on the outside. We must also remember to treat others as the beautiful creatures they are as well, and through love we show for others we can reflect the love Heavenly Father has for us.

Promatch: A Computational Method for Identifying Conserved Transcription Factor Binding Sites in C. Elegans. (Revised)

2008-11-05T12:05:00.001-08:00

The nematode species C. Elegans serves as an ideal model organism for genomic research due to the simplicity of its genetic structure when compared to most vertebrates. Study of C. Elegans has served to identify many target genes of several regulatory transcription factors. It has been shown through prior research that the transcription factor binding sites which have the largest effect on gene expression tend to be conserved across the genomes of several different species. Using this knowledge, we will utilize the level of species conservation into an accessible format that will allow researchers around the world to enhance their genomic studies. We have developed such a method to incorporate the conservation of DNA sequences across six different nematode genomes into a mathematical algorithm. These include the genomes of: C. Elegans, C. Briggsae, C. Japonica, C. Remanei C. Brenneri, and P. Pacificus. This algorithm has the ability to identify specific transcription factors using position weight matrices obtained through the TRANSFAC database which are significantly represented in a submitted C Elegans gene list. This algorithm will be presented to the public through a website where one may submit a list of genes and choose from one of three background models.

The Fatal Consequences of Human Isolation - Abstract (Revised)

2008-11-04T23:23:00.000-08:00

Is there a correlation between the lack of physical or emotional interactions and physical health? After several years interested in this topic I found that the answer is yes. The purpose of this paper is to demonstrate that the lack or deficiency of physical and emotional interactions among humans leads first, to psychological, and then to biological disorders, and that the extreme of total social isolation may provoke a fatal outcome, even death. The method I will use consists in finding a relation among already-studied psychological disorders that have biological implications.

Simplicity in the Gospel - Getting Back to the Basics (revised)

2008-11-04T20:59:00.001-08:00

Eleventh Annual BYU Religious Education Student Symposium
Simplicity in the Gospel – Getting back to the Basics

The theme for my essay will be the simplicity of the Gospel and the happiness that lies therein. My focus will be using doctrinal reminders to shed light onto the straightforwardness of the Gospel and the joy that results from these simple truths. As Latter-Day Saints, we are given pure and basic truths, and we tend to think “this is too easy, salvation should be difficult to achieve.” We corrupt these plain and simple truths with details, and we occasionally need reminders to simplify our lives and views on the Gospel. I will compile the advice and commandments given concerning the plain nature of the Gospel and plan of happiness. The paper will be based on the scriptures and words from modern day prophets, seers, and revelators (conference talks, ensign articles, etc.).

Living a Christ-Centered Life. Cindy Hurst. Conference Abstract (Revised)

2008-11-04T11:11:00.000-08:00

Living a Christ-Centered life
Modified to become the David O’Mckay Essay

Title:

Becoming Like Christ: The Constant Journey

Background:

Christ came to the earth proclaiming these simple words: “Come, unto me”. What an extraordinarily simple command, for such a life changing movement. His knowledge is the purest of knowledge. When we choose to follow Christ, we are stepping above man’s logic, and are appealing to a much higher knowledge—a self-less, love-centered knowledge. If we choose to follow him, we will find far greater meaning, purpose, and direction in our lives. However, choosing to follow him is only the first step. It is in the constant journey towards becoming like him that we truly feel a deep change of heart.

Purpose:

My goal is to be able to explain to others the great truths that I have learned in my quest to live a Christ-Centered life, with emphasis on it being a constant journey. We cannot hope to simply maintain. We must keep moving forward or else we will find ourselves struggling.

Method:

As a narrative. I will reflect on important events in my life that brought me on a new path to follow Christ, when I had lost my way from lack of a constant progression. Also included will be important doctrines that helped me to come closer to Christ. I will relate these experiences to the mountains, and explain some
powerful metaphors in my life that have helped me understand the journey in becoming Christ-like, including how constant movement is necessary to become a good skier as much as it is to become like Christ.

Anticipated results:

By living with the constant goal of progressing towards Christ, a person can expect to have feeling of peace and stillness in their life. They will more readily feel the spirit, and experience the blessings that come with choosing to be righteous. They will also find greater strength to overcome adversities that may approach them.

(Revised Abstract) Accuracy and predictor variables of listeners’ identification of male speaker body size, age, and ethnicity

2008-11-04T07:53:00.000-08:00

While previous research has shown listeners' ability to determine age, ethnicity, and body size, sometimes based only on a single word, no known studies have explored the interaction of these variables in voice recognition.
To determine the factors involved, male speakers varying in ethnicity, height, weight, and age were asked to produce 5 monosyllable English words. These were analyzed for acoustic features (fundamental frequencies, formant frequencies, jitter & shimmer, voice onset time, etc.), then played for listeners asked to identify the four variables based only on that word.
Preliminary results show that listeners are most able to identify ethnicity and least accurate at identifying body size. Successful rating for Caucasian ethnicity was significantly higher than for other ethnicities. These results may have application in forensic linguistics in criminal identification.

"Non-governmental Organizations & Government Relations: Are NGOs Doing More Harm Than Good?" Abstract Revised (Rachael)

2008-11-04T06:51:00.000-08:00

Conference Paper Part I: Abstract

“Non-Governmental Organizations & Government Relations in Ethiopia: Are Non-Governmental Organizations Doing More Harm Than Good?”

The economic stability of Ethiopia in recent years has taken a turn for the worse (according to US Embassy reports) despite the increased number of NGOs operating in Ethiopia to help provide stability. Government officials in Ethiopia lobby for, boast of, and depend upon more funding coming from NGOs each year (according to the Ministry of Ethiopian Foreign Affairs). Are NGOs promoting dependency rather than sustainability? Ethiopia is a country rich in natural resources but poor in economy, infrastructure, and leadership. Non-governmental organizations set out to implement projects their way with their funding while the government takes a different approach. NGOs operating in Ethiopia claim that new rules rules and regulations keep them from operating effectively. The Ethiopian Bureau of Federal & Economic Development (BOFED) claims the increased misappropriation of NGO funds to be the reason for recent added rules and regulations. While NGOs and Ethiopian Government point fingers at each other, the Ethiopian people continue to suffer.
I hypothesize that there are both positive and negative consequences to the work of nongovernmental organizations in Ethiopia. While some are doing more harm than good, I hope to find that others are doing more good than harm.
Through personal observation, interviewing those involved with NGOs operating in Ethiopia, and researching scholarly approved case studies of NGO projects, I intend to determine the positive and negative consequences NGOs have in Ethiopia. I intend to better define the relationship between Ethiopian government and NGOs, as I believe defining this relationship will show some of the aforementioned consequences and help provide a solution for the two to work together to move forward.

HIV/AIDS in Senegal

2008-11-04T06:43:00.000-08:00

Senegal’s differences in awareness, legislation, infrastructure, and previous programs have allowed its fight against HIV/AIDS more success than in similar countries. Levels of awareness of practices protective against HIV/AIDS among the general population exceeded 90% in the early ‘90s, with high-publicity educational campaigns. Legislation is also favorable: adultery is illegal in Senegal; in addition, polygyny requires consent (although this law is often not enforced, in favor of tradition) and prostitution was legalized in 1969, allowing for a unique infrastructure providing health care to sex workers.

Established in 1969, the Female Sex Worker Registry (FSWR) has been used since its creation for STD treatment and screening, encouraging registration by providing needed, affordable services; these services effectively outweigh the costs of some social stigma. The aforementioned other programs setting the stage for Senegal’s current fight against HIV/AIDS includes the STD control program administered through the FSWR, which was integrated into primary health care services and included cost recovery for reduced-cost STD treatments, allowing for sustainability.

Acknowledging these foundations in Senegal as part of the rapid response to the emergence of HIV/AIDS in Senegal in the 80s, this paper will examine the success of the fight against HIV/AIDS in Senegal by evaluating its structure and outcome and assessing the basic feasibility of its the most recent experimental project, ISAARV, in other western African countries. The ISAARV (Senegalese Antiretroviral Drug Access Initiative), launched in 1998, is the base of Senegal’s current Strategic Plan Against AIDS (PNLS) and is recognized as a possible framework from which to base other HIV/AIDS interventions in countries like Benin and Cameroon in western Africa.

Warning this is long, kind of corny and really really rough and for some reason it didn't want to format. Read at own risk!

2008-11-04T06:34:00.001-08:00

So for fun I started to write a story it is kind of cheesy at parts and is really rough. I thought that writing this would be a fun on the side thing that I could do. I have been working on it here and there for about a month. It could possibly be turned into a short story, but I am not sure. Just remember that this was for fun and it is probably not very good. In fact I knew the writing isn’t anything amazing. Enjoy!

At first I didn’t even feel it. The small electric shock was nothing more than that of static. It wasn’t big enough to notice. Yet the second wave knocked me to the ground. I stayed there where I fell, on my hands and knees. I tensed, waiting for a third and even bigger jolt. As I knelt there panting, two feet stepped into my view. The boots were worn, yet they contained a style that suggested power. I knew the boots well. I had seen them many times before as they chased down rebels. Rebels like me.

Chapter 1
The weight of the package in my hands seemed to increase with each passing second. Only one more turn until my office and then I could relieve my arms of this burden. I was almost at a run when I reached the corner.
“Ow!” I yelped as I hit something and tumbled to the floor. Maybe I hit the wall; I really should pay more attention. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I laid there hoping that; first of all no one saw, and second of all that it was a wall that I ran into. A hand came into view. Dang it! No such luck on either account.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I heard as I was placed on my feet, “Are you okay?” I was just about to answer when I realized that I was no longer carrying the package. Oh no, oh no. I can’t have lost it. This can’t be happening.
“Are you okay?” Where is it? Where is my package? I am dead, absolutely dead without it. It wasn’t on the floor. Two firm hands grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. I stared into two emerald green pools.
“Are you okay?”
“ Ur… um… Yes. Yes I am”
“You sure?” He looked at me skeptically. I brushed my skirt off and straightened my jacket self-consciously.
“Yes I am sure. I just… I just dropped something.” My eyes scanned the floor at my feet once more.
“Oh” I watched as his face lit up with understanding. “How big was it?” I realized that his hands were still on my shoulders as he took one off and put it in his pocket. The other he left on my shoulder as if he thought that if he let go I would fall down again. Who does this guy think he is?
“Well, it is small and square, and is wrapped…”
“…In brown paper?” My blood chilled as he finished my sentence for me. My following answer was so quiet that he had to lean closer in order to hear.
“ Yes.” He chuckled as he leaned back and pulled the small ring box sized package from his pocket. My eyes widened in fear. Did he recognize it? Is that why he had pocketed it? Before I realized it, my hand shot out and snatched up the small object. He chuckled again at my reaction. I rotated the package in my hands. Everything looked all right. I sighed inwardly and turned to walk into my office.
“I‘m sorry that I scared you like that.” He called at my retreating back.
“That’s alright.” I mumbled without turning around to see if he had heard me. My hand reached the door knob which I turned quickly letting myself into my safe zone. I closed the door and leaned up against it. My eyes remained closed as I breathed, in and out, in and out, trying to slow and calm my panicked heart. Air, I needed air. My eyes flickered open as I slowly walked over to the window straight ahead of me. The button for the shades was warm against my cold fingers. I gently slid the pane of glass upward, and as soon as I did I could feel the cool breeze against my face. My hands searched for the arms of the chair behind me. I slid into it trying to let the cool breeze blow away my cares, and my fears. Yet paranoia won. I took a mental inventory of my fairly small office. First the bookshelf; everything seemed to be in order. My pictures were all there; my books still in alphabetical order. I moved to my desk. I put my hand on the top drawer handle. How silly of me to worry. I tried to calm myself. There really was no way that anyone could have found out. With a small sigh, I opened the drawer and drop the small package inside. Yet my nerves wouldn't calm. It wasn’t safe here; I had to leave, but where would I go. I walked back to my window and gazed out at the scenery.Out my window I could see the crystal lake below me. I had always loved my office. It was the furthest one built over the lake, which put me right in the middle of it all. The sensation that came with the view calmed me, or at least it used to. Now it made me anxious. I was the furthest from the shore. So many things could happen. I continued to stare out the window looking for anything out of the ordinary, but I found nothing.I jumped as the phone on my desk started singing.
“Hello, this is Rhea.”
“Did you get it?” I shuddered at the voice.
“ Yes, I just retrieved it.” There was silence on the other end.“Hello?” I heard a small click. My heart started to race again. I needed to leave, and it had to be now. Was someone listening to my conversation? Had I been cut off? I started gathering things into a bag. The package, a few books, all my pictures, my files; Was I forgetting anything? I did a quick look over my office, before opening the door and stepping out of it for the last time, hopefully.I tried to keep my pace casual as I walked down the long hallway. There is no need to alert anyone of my intensions. My footsteps seemed loud in my ears. They almost seemed to echo. My mind began to process the sound. There did seem to be some kind of echo, yet my foot fall didn’t match the sound. Someone had to be following. Why? It is okay, there are tons of people around they could just be going the same way as me. I could feel my palms becoming uncomfortably wet with a nervous sweat.I needed to find a reason to stop. Someway to turn around and see who was there. I slid the bracelet of my delicate wrist. One… Two… Three… I let the small projectile slide through my fingers as I tried to keep a natural swing to my arm. I stopped, I hoped not too abruptly, and slowly turned around. I told myself to stay focus on the bracelet until it was in my hands. I bent down to retrieve it. As I reach out for it, two feet stepped into view. I noted the army looking boots, they looked very worn. I could tell there was some kind of story behind them. I straightened my posture and found myself looking again into deep green eyes.
“Do you drop things often?” There was a smirk in his voice.
“No… I mean sometimes.” I can’t let him think that I am acting abnormally. Even though I am; I am losing my edge. This job is becoming way to stressful. I fidgeted uncomfortably."Well, I have to go" I started to walk away. Yet as I turned I felt his hand clasp my wrist and turn me to fact him once more.
"I don't believe I know your name?"
"I don't give out my name to strange men?" The smirk returned to his eyes.
"I wouldn't be strange if you got to know me better." He chuckled as he moved closer. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. DANGER, DANGER.
"I... I am sorry, but I really must go" I said as I wiggled my way out of his grip. I moved fast to avoid further interaction with this man. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as I reach the exit. I swung the door out in front of me and stepped outside not looking back.I knew that from that moment on that my life would no longer be easy. The storm was coming and it was going to be big. I felt as though I was being watched as I walked to my car. I shook the feeling off as I opened my door. I needed to focus now. I needed to keep my mind on the road. Just that narrow stretch of road in front of me.
Chapter 2
I sank into the chair that faced my bay window. I closed my eyes trying to replay the past few days. I had gone to the drop off spot to find it in shambles. The package was still in my possession. I knew that I shouldn’t open it, but I couldn’t stay away. I was drawn to it like a magnet. To solve the problem I had put it in a huge safe in the attic of my small beach house. Even though it was out of the way, I often caught my eyes wandering up to the ceiling as if they could bore hole through the safe and then the package would drop into my lap. How could something so small be so important to the plan?My mind began to drift to what had started all this commotion, and how I had gotten involved. I remembered that it had been right after I had bought this small beach house. Chase had helped me pick it out. He had always been a mentor to me. He had taught me the laws of the land and had gotten me the job at the governments Special Forces office. I didn’t know what my job was there at first and then I figured it out. I was a spy. To everyone else I was a secretary of sorts. Every week Chase would give me a new assignment, and each week I would complete it just to see the look of satisfaction in Chase’s eyes. His bright blue eyes shined with affection every time I did something right. I had grown accustom to it, I even began to crave it. Yet now, he was gone. I had no idea where he was or what I was to do now. I didn’t feel safe enough to go back to work, so I stayed here. In this secret house only used every once in a while. I had come here hoping that Chase would be here to greet me, but I had no such luck. I was staring at nothing now. I just look absentmindedly at the waves that pelted the shore below.The rhythm of the ocean brought peace to me, and I fought myself at the water’s edge moments later. With my shoes in my hands I walked into the water until in swirled around my ankles. After soaking in the feeling I returned to the soft sand. I sat down and curled my knees up to my chest. I hugged them for comfort. Oh Chase, where are you? I need you.The next thing I knew I was lifting my head off the sandy floor. It was dark, did I fall asleep outside? Suddenly fear strangled me. I fought it, but it was winning. It was crippling me. I slowly made my way back to the house. As I reached for the door knew I heard something in the bushes move. The fear was overwhelming. I practically fell through the doorway, only to be tackled all the way to the floor a second later.I never imagined that I could ever make such a sound, but the scream that burst out of my lungs was the most terrifying cry that I had ever heard. My scream was suddenly cut off by a hand.
“Rhea?” My eyes widened at my name and the sound of the voice that said it. The weight was suddenly off me and the lights flickered on a moment later. Chase stood at the switch, a look of total shock on his face. I was still trying to slow my pulse. I laid there panting on the cold hard wood floor. Chase closed the space between us in few steps and lifted me to my feet with ease.
“Where have you been?” He asked as his arms drew me near. I pushed away and looked up at him.
“Where have I been? I have been here for the past three days? Where have you been? He took my hand and led me to the couch in the next room. He sat down next to me keeping my hand in his.
“ I was at the drop off zone waiting for you, when they showed up. I barely got away, but not before they jolted me.” He lifted up his pant leg to reveal a large bloody gash. I recoiled slightly. “ I pulled their little machine out my leg, it was painful, but it was either that or get caught and I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
“Where did you go after that?”
“ I stayed away until it got dark and then I went back to wait for you, but you never showed up, so I…” I cut him off to correct him.
“ I went there and found the place in pieces, and then I came here. I have been waiting here, worried and frightened. I thought you had been caught or worse kil…” It was his turn to cut me off. He covered my mouth with his hand.“Shhh … You need to calm down. You were frightened? Really?” I nodded under his hand. “There was really no reason for you to be scared.” I removed his hand from my face.“You say that, but I have no idea what to do if something suddenly happens to you.” he shook his head at my panic.“You don’t think I am the head of this job do you? I guess you would have no other reason to believe anything otherwise, but listen I am not the boss in this. There are so many others involved. I never told you because… well I guess it was because, I was worried about your safety. I have you in a safe enviro…” I cut him off again.“Had.”“Had? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” his eyes searching my face for an answer.“I walked out yesterday.” I cringed waiting for him to blow up at me.“You walked out?”“Yeah.”“Did you tell anyone you were leaving?”“NO, No I just gathered up all the stuff that I could carry and walked away”“So no one saw you leave?” At this point he was gripping my shoulders with such force that it was cutting off circulation to my arms. I tried to pry his fingers off of me.“Ouch! Well, there might have been somebody”“What?” His face was white and his eyes glazed over in a combination of fear and shock, “Who saw you?”“I…I don’t know his name,” I pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged them for comfort, “I ran into him when I was getting the package. I accidentally dropped it he pocket it for a little while and then…” I was rambling on and Chase put up a hand to silence me. He sat for a while, still as stone. I wondered what kind of plan he was cooking up in that mystic little head of his.“Okay, you are going back.” It was a command, not a request.“WHAT?” My eyes were wide with horror, “I can’t go back; I just can’t. You don’t understand. What if I got caught? I thought you were worried about my safety?” He reached forward to comfort me, but I moved away from him. How could he put me in danger? Did he not realize how scared I was? Was I scared for no reason? No, there was a reason. Traitors if caught were killed. I would not be caught; I would not.“Listen, you were our eyes and ears. We need you in the center of it all.” His pleading eyes softened my resolve. “Please,” He made a big deal of the asking part, “Go back.”“I don’t know if I can. What if… What if that guy knows everything. I mean why did he pocket the package before helping me up and why did he follow me out of the building?”“We don’t know the answers to those questions; that is why we need you there more than ever.” I stood up and head to the window. I stared at the even beating of the ocean. Chase stayed on the couch and watch my back; waiting for my answer. I turned back to face him.“I will need to think about this, but not tonight. I will see you in the morning.” And with that I ended the conversation and walked toward the stairs. As I ascended I looked back at the couch. Chase was sitting forward with his face resting in his hands. He suddenly looked older and worn. I pulled my eyes away and walked to the end of the hallway where the door to the master bedroom stood ajar, waiting for me.After getting ready for the night, I jumped onto the bed and began reading, hoping that it would calm me and help me sleep. As I read my eyelids grew heavier, the book in my hand slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. * * * “Please, please let me go, I swear I am innocent. I didn’t know what the package contained,” My eyes blurred with tears could still see his bright green eyes. I struggled as he gripped my wrists and dragged me down a lonely hallway. “Where are you taking me? Please. Please. Please.” My own sobs cut me off. I was too frightened to fight with my tears or this man.“I have been watching you for a while, you know,” He didn’t look back at me now, he only quickened his pace. “You are very well trained and you probably would have gotten away too, but you made the mistake of coming back. Thank you for making my job easier.” He laughed maniacally. The hallway seemed to go on forever. The long walk helped to clear my head. I need to fight back. So I started to pull at his fingers and twist in his grip. I turned and pulled as hard as I could until finally I broke free. As soon as I was free I was falling.“Ough!” I landed on the hard wood floor with a thump. I looked at the clock on the wall, 3:38 AM.“Urgh.” I picked myself off the floor. My skin was sticky with a nervous sweat. It was only a dream, it was only a dream. It had been so real. I worked on calming myself. I sucked in the cool morning air, realizing that I had left my window open I rushed to it. As I reached to pull the window pane down I glanced at the silent beach below. There on the shining sand stood a dark silhouette. I jumped back from the window. Was he looking at the house or the rolling tide? The moons glow didn’t cast enough light to tell the difference. I crept back to the window. My heart began pound as my eyes registered the fact that the figure was suddenly gone. Where had he gone and how could he have moved that fast?I jumped back onto the bed and threw the covers over me, like I had when I would hide from monsters as a young child. I felt alone and over my head. Why couldn’t my life be boring and normal. I would trade anything for that again. I had wished so hard for some adventure before Chase had come along. Yet now I realized that I had gotten an adventure alright, an adventure that would eventually get me killed if I wasn’t careful.I laid awake debating whether or not I should return to Nforce or not. The haunting nightmare kept me wanting to say no. If I returned I could be caught. My life could end. My mind drifted back to the strange figure outside my window. I peeked out from behind my soft shelter and scanned my dark room. Everything was in order, of course. What did I expect? They couldn't have found me that fast. Although it was only a matter of time before it happened, and when it did there would be no escape.Chapter 3"Oh, finally back are we." I jumped at the sound that came from my doorway. I looked up to see those green eyes again. This guy was really starting to annoy me. I quickly thought through the strategy that Chase and I had discussed. It was time for me to make a new friend. It is like the saying, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." That was the plan. I stood up and walked around my desk to him. I held out my hand."Yes, I just need to have a little vacation time, and I don't think that we have been formally introduced, my name is Rhea. Yours is?" I gave him a wide smile as he took my hand.He had firm grip, of course I already knew this from our previous encounter."Pleased to truly meet you Rhea, I am Anders.""Pleased to meet you Anders. I am glad to finally know your name, since we are constantly running into one another." He gave a small wink at my comment.I almost thought I had imagined it."So, how about dinner Friday?""Wow, you don't waste anytime do you?" His smile appeared again."No I don't. If I see something I like then I go after it, no matter the impending defeat.""Well, I don't like to take such risks, so considering that the only things I know about you are that you follow women around the building and your name, I will have to pass." He forced a scowl upon his face. It made him look darker and evil. I didn't like it. I retreated back the my desk hoping that he would close the door behind him. To my dismay he didn't close the door as he left, he closed it as he came all the way into my office. I tried to ignore him at first, yet when he decided to sit on my desk I couldn't ignore him anymore. "Can I help you with something?" I tried to keep my tone light."Yes, you can accompany me to dinner on Friday.""I believe that I already said no.""Yeah, but I thought I would give you a second chance." He winked again, and then stood up. "Well if you change your mind, which you probably will, you now know who I am." With that disclaimer he left the room. I sank into my chair and let out a sigh of relief.

Seeing Through The Atonement's Lens: A Fresh Look At First Nephi (Revised)

2008-11-04T06:03:00.000-08:00

Seeing Through The Atonement's Lens: A Fresh Look At First Nephi

Since the time that the Book of Mormon was translated and brought forth by Joseph Smith, we the membership of the church have been exhorted to read it and gain spiritual strength through its messages. However, many times we fail to take the full spiritual journey and end up reading the book of First Nephi again and again. My purpose in writing this paper is to show that when we read the Book of First Nephi through the lens of the Atonement, we can discover a trove of doctrine about Christ's mission and His character. I will do this by showing how specific stories including Getting the Brass Plates forshadow Nephi's revelatory vision of Christ. Then after Nephi has had his witness, I will show how he is called to emulate certain characteristics of the Savior's through trials such as The Broken Bow, the Murmering of Lamen and Lemuel, and being Bound on the Ship. I will use quotes from prophets and apostles to supplement the doctrine that is found in the text of First Nephi. My hope is that this paper will testify that the message of the Savior can be manifest and rediscovered in any book of scripture, regardless of length or how many times it has been read before.

In 4 sentences:

We have been called as members to read the Book of Mormon, but often we end up reading First Nephi over and over again until we think we have it practically memorized. My goal is to show how new lessons can be learned from First Nephi when we read it through the lens of the Atonement. I will do this by showing symbolism in the familiar stories in First Nephi and also using supporting doctrine and quotes from church leaders. I hope that this message will encourage others to look at scripture, familiar and unknown, and see how the Savior can always be manifested and testified of therein.

Poetry contest proposal

2008-11-04T04:26:00.000-08:00

I'm not entirely sure of the title, but id like to focus on the aspects of the human mind or on love and depression. I love to write poetry, and I've been writing since high school. So, I want to further my experience with poetry and work on my craft of poetry. Also, seeing the ability of being published is a fun idea. I've always wanted to either follow Edgar Allen Poe techniques or maybe do an epic poem like Homer. I like Poe's surveillances of human nature, but I love Homer's storytelling skills, so maybe I'll mix both.

Abstract (Revised)

2008-11-04T01:19:00.000-08:00

Title: Pioneers and Converts: an African heritage

Topic: Church history and Pioneers in Rural Africa.

Background: We often focus on the pioneer heritage of the early Latter Day Saints of European decent. There are, however, many unsung heroes of church history relating to other parts of the world.

Scope: This essay addresses the history of early pioneer converts in Africa and their influence.

Justification: The research will help others to greater understand and appreciate modern pioneers in Africa

Abstract for Conference Paper

2008-11-03T22:30:00.000-08:00

“To Us!” An Investigation of the Alcoholic-Induced Liver Disease: Alcoholic Cirrhosis

Background:
The excessive consumption of alcohol is the third leading cause of mortality in the United States. 75,000 Americans die unnecessarily each year because of alcohol abuse, with 30% of alcoholics developing alcoholic cirrhosis. Alcohol cirrhosis is the result of chronic liver disease that causes scarring of the liver and liver dysfunction due to the consumption of alcohol in excess and over a long period of time.

Purpose:
My purpose is to investigate how alcohol consumption leads to cirrhosis, the internal symptoms and effects of this disease, as well as the treatments that are used to manage complications and aim at preventing further liver damage.

Method:
I will research many medical studies that have focused on the affects and causes of liver cirrhosis, and to see which age, gender and cultural groups it is most prevalent in, if there is such a pattern, and to investigate how such a disease can lead to fatality.

Anticipated Results:
Through carrying out my method I hope to find that alcoholic cirrhosis can be reversed or at least have the affects subsided by treatments and preventable measures, so as not to reach the stage of liver failure and death. I would predict that such a disease is most prevalent in adult males, past the age of forty, since alcoholic cirrhosis is a disease that arises from longevity and frequent consumption of alcohol.

Preach my Gospel: A Post mission guide (Revised)

2008-11-03T22:16:00.000-08:00

Title: Preach my Gospel: A Post mission guide

Background: Young men and women of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints are called to serve twenty-four and eighteen month missions respectively. The transition upon returning home can be quite a difficult experience. This period of transition is one of the most, or can be one of the most difficult and personally challenging times of a young person’s life.
Purpose: This papers aim is to provide returned missionaries with a clear post mission objective. This paper will demonstrate how to live, cope, survive, and thrive after the mission. I will show how to transition to post mission life through the use of using Preach My Gospel.
Method I will show how to transition to post mission life by setting out ten principles that were lived in the mission, and now can be applied after the mission. They are: Develop Christlike attributes, Use the Scriptures, Pray often, Rely on the spirit, Be exactly obedient, Goal setting and accountability, Work effectively, Build relationships with members, Bear frequent testimony, Love the Lord.
Anticipated Results: This method will yield happiness and confidence, a smooth transition into the post mission era, and the fulfilling of post mission duties. PMG will become not only a pre-service and missionary manual, but also a post mission guide or PMG.

Revised: Project - Mayhew submission

2008-11-03T21:17:00.000-08:00

Title/Theme: The theme of my work(s) will be religious, specifically my mission. My mission has had a profound impact on my life and has given and continues to give me inspiration. I haven’t yet firmly decided on a title, but it will probably have something to do with my mission and/or the experiences I had.

Background/Description: I’ll be writing a series of poems. Some were written on my mission, some since I’ve been home and others are still floating around in my brain, waiting to be clothed in words. They will portray some of my experiences, feelings and some of the people I knew.

Focus/Scope: The focus, hopefully, will be the spiritual significance found in the profound spiritual moments that only happen on a mission. I think that most of the collection will recount experiences, thoughts or people that changed/impacted me in some way.

Genre/Style: I’ll be experimenting/playing with several different types of poetry. I hope to use several different styles of poetry that I haven’t used very much before.

Justification/ Delimitations: Each poem will in some way have to do with my mission. I will probably submit several smaller poems, unless of course, in the process of writing the smaller ones I’m blessed with some great epiphany birthing a phenomenal longer poem that’s like nothing else I’ve ever written before. If that should happen, I’ll submit it.

Abstract Blog

2008-11-03T19:56:00.000-08:00

The Benefits of Family and Other Social Support on Adolescent Mothers and their Children

Adolescent pregnancy is becoming more prevalent today with about 10% of 15- to 19- year-old girls becoming pregnant every year in the United States. Whereas most adult pregnancies are planned and prepared for, teen pregnancies are often unexpected. This can cause great distress to the adolescents who lack the knowledge and support they need to care for their child. Although pregnancy is difficult for an adolescent, research has shown that certain resources and factors can help the adolescent and her family to cope in a way that benefits the child, mother, and family. For example, family support alone can lessen stress, strengthen the attachment of the child to the adolescent mother, and provide and better environment for both mother and child. Therefore, purpose of this review of literature is to explore the difficulties that pregnant adolescent girls and their babies face and to observe the benefits of the available resources, specifically the family, the father of the baby and other support have on them. Research on three sources of support was gathered from peer-reviewed articles. The information was gathered and synthesized in an organizational manner for the reader. An adolescent pregnancy is a trying time for all—family, father, friends, mother and the baby. This review of literature is written in hope that teen mothers realize that they do not have to go through this trying time alone, that there are resources out there, beginning with simply the family. It’s very possible to get through this trial and this is what adolescent mothers need to know.

Abstract: Influences in NBA Ticket Prices (Revised)

2008-11-03T19:06:00.000-08:00

Title: We must fill up this House! A look at what affects average NBA ticket prices

Background: In sports entertainment the goal of any franchise is to be successful.... and rake in a lot of dough while doing it. Many sports analysts and fans have asked if the location of the franchise (i.e. small market (Salt Lake City/San Antonio vs. big market (NY/LA)) has a direct effect on the profits of the said franchise. My study will look to see what factors, whether city size or on-court success, are the biggest influencers on ticket prices in the NBA.

Purpose: My purpose in this study is to show that location and franchise success both affect the prices of tickets. This model could be valuable to team owners as they attempt to maximize both profits and attendance.

Method: My method will be to use the average ticket price (not including premium, box, or luxury seats) for each team and regress this data against such dependent variables such as size of the metropolitan area around the team, per capita income of its fan base, whether or not the team made the playoffs the previous year, etc. in order to achieve an appropriate model and view how each aspect influences ticket pricing.

Anticipated Results: I anticipate that my results will generally follow city size where the franchise is located. Larger markets will have higher ticket prices, etc. Although I do not expect the difference to be very dramatic. This may just prove that small market team fans might just be getting the better deal when watching their favorite players play.

Mayhew Short Story Contest (Revised)

2008-11-03T18:45:00.000-08:00

Title/Theme: While I'm sure a final title will come to me in time, the theme that i am working with for my short story is the idea of what a person thinks when they stand face to face with death. People often contemplate their life when they near death and in my story a young man will be forced to look back on his own life and come to grips with the fact that he may die in moments as he waits for his troop transport ship to land at the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. This idea came to me as part of an in class writing exercise. I liked the short piece that i wrote for class but wanted to do something more grand with it and thought this would be a nice chance to expand on my original idea and see where it goes.

Background/Description: The short story will take place on June 6, 1944 at the allied landings at Normandy. My character is an unnamed private in the United States army who is on board a landing craft that is headed toward the beachhead at Omaha Beach. The story will be told through his internal thoughts with flash back memories mixed in with fear of death and the reality of what he is experiencing. I will try to tell the story in a way that resembles how i might have felt had i been there myself. I'll insert some of my own memories as his own to add some feeling and authenticity. I want to connect with the character because, if i can, the final product will feel more genuine.

Focus/Scope: The focus is squarely set on this young soldier and his thoughts as he is but a small player in one of histories greatest battles. The scope is also quite small as i will spend little time on the historical significance of the events taking place. I do this simply because, as the men were experiencing it, i feel that most of them were thinking about their loved ones, the prospect of being killed, and how scared they were rather than the grand implications of what they were doing. With such a narrow scope, i will try to give depth by going deeper into some of his thoughts and memories.

Genre/Style: The style will be free flowing thought. The thoughts will be jumbled, emotional, and at times confusing in hopes of doing justice to this unnamed soldier and how he really felt. As it is a short story, i will tie in his past with his present and examine, through his thoughts, what his life was like.

Justification/ Delimitations: I will stay within the prescribed length and try to stay focused on the reality and grit of the young man's situation. My aim is to stay with him and make his thoughts as realistic as i can. I will not go too long into his memories without snapping him back into his grim, frightening reality. As the entire length of this story will be only moments, the actual length of the paper will be shorter than other entries.

Abstract for Religious Symposium--Revised

2008-11-03T18:35:00.000-08:00

I feel guilty, I feel great: guilt, shame, and self image in the LDS emerging adult

LDS church leaders caution against discouragement and self doubt. Scriptures likewise testify of the value God places on each human soul. Despite knowing these doctrines, some people become hindered by shame and low self esteem amid transgressions; this issue is especially salient to members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in emerging adulthood. Moral development research indicates those who allow themselves some flexibility in moral conduct have higher likelihood of behaving morally long-term, an outcome associated with positive self-image. Research also shows connections between guilt and healthy outcomes--in contrast to shame, which is associated with depression and self-loathing. This paper aims to help LDS emerging adults maintain self worth, despite transgressions, leading to increases in hope and faith. Through examining statements from church leaders, scriptures, and research in moral development, a view will emerge which promotes living God’s commands with exactness, yet avoiding moral rigidity.

Conference Paper Abrstract: Music is Key to Learning

2008-11-03T18:03:00.000-08:00

Title: Music is Key to Learning

Background:

For decades people have questioned if music really does have an impact on children’s lives. Numerous experiments and case studies have been conducted to search for an answer to this important question. From personal experience, I know that every phase of my life has been incredibly benefited as a result of my adolescent classical music training. Although the positive effects of early musical training in elementary schools is evident, the Utah Legislature is diminishing the importance and availability of music courses. Music education in the elementary schools is instrumental in helping children not only perform better in school, but also in many areas of their lives.

Purpose:
It is unmistakable that musical training is an important tool which improves every aspect of a child’s life. So, why are the school districts threatening to remove the fine arts departments from their schools? Currently, the Utah legislature is trying to place more emphasis and importance on the core classes; such as: science, math, and reading.

This in turn would guarantee that children would not have enough time in the day to take fine arts classes. As Lois Birkenshaw-Fleming points out, “other subjects such as math and science may give children the tools for living, but music and the other arts are what give them a reason for living” (qtd. in Campbell 186). Some educators see music education as cultural frill not worth studying, but music education for children is much more than that.

Good music instruction touches the child’s mind where it lives—the body. It is essential for the rhythm, the balance, the emotions, the social awareness, and the increasingly sophisticated thinking of the kindergarten and elementary school child. (Campbell 165)

Method:

I plan to research many different studies that have been done focused on children within music education. Using those studies, quotes, and statistics in my paper will give it more credibility.

Anticipated Results:

After reviewing the evidence, one can conclude that musical training can drastically improve every aspect of a child’s life. Some of the benefits a child could expect are: improved mathematical reasoning, improved reading scores, enhanced memory, social benefits including greater self-esteem and confidence, and enhanced coordination and motor skills. It has been said that, if a child feels like he has no friends, music can be a jumpstart to new friendships. Studying rhythm and tone can help him advance in his schoolwork. Also, the “grace and mastery” of a musical instrument can help him feel coordinated and able to successfully participate in other activities. Finally, music is a means of communicating his deepest emotions and feelings (Campbell 191).

Conference Paper Abstract (Revised): Strengthening the Conduit...

2008-11-01T12:30:00.000-07:00

Strengthening the Conduit of Communication

between the Conscious Mind

and the Supernal Higher Intelligence

"...Intelligence, or the light of truth, was not created or made. Neither indeed can be" (D&C 93:29). I have chosen to research that which has been of the greatest fascination to me throughout most of my young-adult life: Strengthening the conduit of communication between the conscious mind and the supernal higher intelligence.

My purpose is to find a way to more readily access the relatively untapped reservoir of knowledge, absolute truth, creativity, and genius I believe each of us has encapsulated within the subconscious mind. How we live here in mortality will determine our state of happiness or misery for the rest of eternity (see Alma 41:4); then why not use every possible resource we have, to live life to the fullest, and to prepare for the time to meet our Maker which will shortly come to pass (see D&C 110:16)?

The methods I plan to research in connecting with my own higher intelligence include, meditation, kinesiology, monitoring intake of physical and mental content, exercising faith, and seeking further light and knowledge.

Among the results of my research, I anticipate to find that there is a real and valid relationship between the things we physically and mentally permit to enter our beings, and our ability to put off the natural man and frequent the conduit of communication between that which we are consciously aware of, and what lies dormant within, the embryo of Deity. I expect to compile a concise list of proven methods so people can readily access their own higher intelligences in their personal quests to communicate.

2008-10-28T07:24:00.000-07:00

Book Review

Citation:

Bach, Richard. Jonathan Livingston Seagull. New York, NY, 1970. Pages, 127. Front pages, tribute page, three parts/chapters.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a delightful fable written in prose narrative, telling the journey of a seagull named Jonathan who is determined to find more to the meaning of life. Though fiction, this easy-to-read novella is simple yet profound, and can be applied to the life of almost any audience in the present. To many, the quest of Jonathan Livingston Seagull is not just another story, but a three-part spiritual guide or homily for self-perfection.

This book lives up to the high recommendations and excellent ratings it has been given across the United States. From one flight’s lesson to the next, the author brings his readers to the sky for practice in areas of speed, technique, and thought (psychology), while visions of hope, eternal progression, freedom, belief, and service are instilled in each student.

In Part I, Jonathan is made a very likeable character of persistence, determination, and perseverance. While Jonathan lives to fly (most gulls fly only to eat), and he flies very well, the author speaks openly of his falls as well as his world records in flight, so that each reader may relate his/her own experiences with Jonathan’s failures and successes. Although Jonathan wants to fly more than anything, there are moments of upset wherein he almost lets himself give up. Upon one instance after a particularly challenging day of high-speed crashing, Jonathan tells himself, “there would be no more challenge and no more failure,” in his decision to stop his radical flight pursuits. The author inspires readers endowing Jonathan with an ability to think through and discover ways to overcome the thoughts of failure that are certainly not unique to just, Jonathan, but a part of everyday life to those reading.

The reader is taught along with Jonathan in an active style, that revolutionary ideas are often unkindly received by those uncomfortable with change. Upon discovering the beginnings of his abilities in flight, Jonathan proclaims his excitement to share his new-found knowledge with the Flock he belongs to: “When they hear of it, he thought…they’ll be wild with joy. How much more there is now to living!...We can lift ourselves out of ignorance, we can find ourselves as creatures of excellence and intelligence and skill. We can be free! We can learn to fly!” And yet, he is outcast from the Flock, from his own family, friends, and leaders, “forever.”

In Part II the reader is taught that when “one school is finished…the time has come for another to begin.” We journey with Jonathan from his isolated, banished state to a new place. “So this is heaven, he thought....It felt like a seagull body, but already it flew far better than his old one….His feathers glowed brilliant white now, and his wings were smooth and perfect as sheets of polished silver.” From a writer’s perspective, Brilliant imagery is used to paint the picture of heaven, where “…the most important thing in living was to reach out and touch perfection in that which they most loved to do…” Bach uses simple words and phrases that sink deep into the heart when pondered. A reader may wonder, ‘how do I reach out and touch perfection…?’ as he/she is inspired to do so in taking their own flight, and a writer may be inspired to write his/her response to such questions.

Jonathan’s question in heaven is thought-provoking: “Why aren’t there more of us here? Where I came from there were…thousands and thousands of gulls….” The answer is even more profound: “We went from one world into another….we choose our next world through what we learned in this one.” If Jonathan “learned so much at one time that [he] didn’t have to go through a thousand lives to reach this one,” can I do the same? Bach leaves several unasked, unanswered questions for readers and writers to mull over while learning how to fly.

While Jonathan is on a physical quest to fly, his moral quest is also evident. “Is there no such place as heaven?” he asks. Jonathan is taught (along with the readers of his story), how to find heaven on earth: “Heaven is not a place, and it is not a time. Heaven is being perfect.” A gull must know his “true nature” to become perfect, to overcome limitations, and to obtain freedom. The reader is intrigued, and the writer is taught how to use narrative in a simplistic but profound, and even symbolic manner.

Through his process of learning, young, overzealous Jonathan becomes wise Fletcher Lynd Seagull who acknowledges that flying the speed of thought is nothing without love, forgiveness, and serving others. To be a student is not enough to Fletcher, who willingly accepts the call of one higher to return to those who still knew him as an outcast, to help them learn all that he has. How does one fly or teach others to fly when they don’t want to see you as anything but an outcast? “Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding, find out what you already know, and you’ll see the way to fly.” Bach provides uplifting tidbits of advice for the quest of the reader and writer alike, in sharing his own flight, leaving both with the challenge of overcoming limitations, through an eternity of progressive learning.

Here is one more recommendation to add to the list of many for Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Young children, youth, early adults/students or well-experienced adults who want to feel young again, will all be edified in reading this book. Jonathan Livingston Seagull is not just another fable, but a quest for anyone ready to enjoy the journey, learning and teaching along the way.

Book review

2008-10-26T21:22:00.001-07:00

(“The Poems of Emily Dickinson”----1999 edition, by R.W. Franklin. The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Cambridge, MA)

Life is Life, and death but death!

Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!

And if, indeed, I fail,

At least to know the worst is sweet.

Defeat means nothing but defeat,

No drearier can prevail!

Emily Dickinson seemed to have an outlook on life that a lot of us at this time forget about. We worry about every little thing, and we put too much weight into so small things. We need to remember that “Defeat means nothing but defeat,” This is one of my favorite lines that Emily has written. I read this and realized that I need to not worry so much.

A lot of her poems have this uplifting feeling to them. She really had a feel for the way life was supposed to be lived. She saw things for what they were and wrote about them they way she felt and wanted not the way the world told her to.

Another thing about Dickinson that really catches my eye and makes me think is her interest in a higher being, in God. She grasps the concept so well.

Prayer is the little implement

Through which men reach

Where presence is denied them

They fling their speech

By means of it in God’s ear;

If then He hear,

This sums the apparatus

Comprised in prayer.

I find this poem so interesting. Often we are told that praying is how we communicate with God. We send our hopes, concerns, dreams, and questions, up to heaven. To a place where, at this moment is not within our reach. Though through our prayers we are in a way reaching for that place, but because we cannot reach, we “fling” our words to God’s ear. Dickenson says that sums up a prayer. We send our words to him hoping he will hear us.

Along with Dickenson knowing of a God, she knew there was a Son as well. She knew that he died to show his love for us, and that is love will never die.

That I did always love,

I bring thee proof:

That til I loved

I did not love enough.

That shall I love always,

I offer thee

That love is life,

And life hath immortality.

This, dost thou doubt, sweet?

Then have I

Nothing to show

But Calvary.

“That love is life, and life hath immortality.” Christ showed his love for us throughout his life, and even gave it for our sakes. The gift of his life was his love. And being immortal means you can never die. Dickenson was saying that the love that that Son has for us will never die. No matter what we do, or how much we doubt, we will always have His love.

In reading Emily Dickenson’s poems you not only find excellent writing, but I believe you can find inspiration as well. She captures her feelings so well. I have found many of her poems that seem to come alive and express how I feel at times.

I really feel as though Emily Dickenson was an inspired writer. As a writer this gives me ideas and hopes for my own creations. She wrote for herself, yet at the same time she is not the only person to ever feel that way, other can read her word and relate. It is for that reason that she has such amazing works and masterpieces.

I find that her writing flows very well and it makes you think at times.

Death is a dialogue between

The spirit and the dust.

“Dissolve,” says Death. The Spirit, “Sir

I have another trust.”

Death doubt it, argues from the ground.

The Spirit turns away,

Just laying of the evidence,

An overcoat of clay.

I highly recommend reading Dickenson. She has such a style. Not only do you get to read excellent writing, but you get to read words that inspire, and isn’t that what good writing is? Something that will inspire us.

It was too late for man,

But early yet for God;

Creation impotent to help,

But prayer remained our side.

How excellent the heaven,

When earth cannot be had;

How hospitable, then, the face

Of our old neighbor, God!

The Poems of Emily Dickinson (Book Review) (Revised)

2008-10-23T23:23:00.000-07:00

The Poems of Emily Dickinson, 1999 reading edition, edited by R.W. Franklin. The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachussetts.

Emily Dickinson started to write poetry early in her life. She started writing around 1844 when she was 14 years old, and she would continue to write poems for the rest of her life. When she passed away in 1886, she left a legacy of 1,789 poems, all of them expressing her candid and pure spirit. Her poems were mostly inspired by nature, and her observations of life have inspired thousands of people since they were published. In the 1999 edition, Ralph W. Franklin presents the poems in numerical and chronological order.

Dickinson did not put titles to her poems. Her style reflects a purity of mind and soul within the context of nineteenth-century English. Dickinson used a variety of forms in her poems: some are short ones, some are longer ones, some of them rhyme, others do not, but all of them reflect an innocent, profound, but simple spirit.

The Lady Of The Bee.

Dickinson saw in the elements of nature more than the rest of mortals. In several poems, she mentions the bee and implies what a bee might represent. For me, the most bold and basic poem that exalts the bee is Poem 23:

In the name of the Bee-
And of the Butterfly –
And of the Breeze. Amen!

The poem is so simple and paraphrases the end of a baptismal prayer: "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." I found the analogy amusing and irreverent at first sight, but after pondering what each of the elements (the breeze) may represent, I found the poem honest and profound. Since the Bee is an intelligent creature that works hard, it is a good symbol of God the Father. The Butterfly is the most beautiful insect, in the same way that the Son of God is the most beautiful present from God to mankind. Finally, the Breeze, invisible and vital, is a force that moves things, and it symbolizes the Holy Ghost very well.

In Poem 1788 she wrote:

Fame is a Bee.
It has a song-
It has a sting-
Ah, too, it has a wing.

Most of the time, Dickinson writes the word "bee" with the capital letter B, suggesting perhaps that the Bee meant a lot to her. In the previous example is remarkable the way she compares the bee with fame describing that fame is temporary when she writes "it has a wing".

Some other elements besides the Bee that are found many times in Dickinson’s poems are the butterfly, the robin, the rose, the flowers, the trees, the mountains, the sea, and so forth.
I find Dickinson’s poems to be a continuous celebration of nature, human life and its relation to God.

Going to another theme in Dickinson's poetry, Poem 34 struck me especially in the line that says:

Met by the Gods with banners –

Since she wrote the word gods with "G" instead of "g", did she really know that God the Father and his Son were two Gods? I would like to ask her but it is not possible. Another poem that expresses profound values is Poem 980 that says:

Love – is anterior to Life –
Posterior – to Death –
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth –

A very short poem, but it does not need more, striking, concise and beautiful. All of these are strengths in Dickinson’s poems. I find most of them to be inspiring and profound ones.

As a writer I can say that I learned many things from those poems. First, a person could write over seventeen hundred poems during a lifetime, meaning that human mind is only limited by time and physical conditions. Second, that inspiration may be like a continuous river flowing words over the years. Third, that inspiration may be based on observations of the simplest elements of nature and human life, absorbed, processed in the mind and soul of the writer and then given back as powerful and inspirational words from the writer’s pen.

As a writer, the Poems of Emily Dickinson have inspired me and given me the encouragement to pursue improvement of my writings, not only about the quality but also about the quantity. It has showed me again that it is worth to write and write again and to commit time for writing exercises either in the commonplace book or in my personal journal, practice that I had left for some years.

Why did I choose The Poems of Emily Dickinson? Simple, I thought I needed it. Since I love good poetry and after learning that Dickinson was a very important person maybe the most important composer in the American poetry I had to give myself the chance to read her. But there are other considerations as well. I just wrote "I needed it" and I want to say more about it. Since I was in elementary and high school and later in college I always studied science courses, depriving myself of reading good books of literary works, during those years there was a voice in in my mind telling me that I was missing something very important, that is why in the last years I have turned myself over to study humanities and English classes and to read the good books that I always postponed for "another time", and after all of these last years of learning I found a writer inside of me. I guess I always knew he was there, but never paid attention to him and never let him grow. The Poems of Emily Dickinson have reconfirmed me that there is not only beauty in writing but a way to walk.

I think that the reading of The Poems of Emily Dickinson is a must for any aspiring writer of either prose or verse. I strongly recommend it for several reasons: because it shows that clean poems can be written in a very successful way, that there is no need of bad words or profanity to impress an audience. That aesthetic can be obtained in written exercises that come from the soul and that almost any time of our lifespan is a right time to express our minds by poetry. There is only one recommendation before starting to read The Poems of Emily Dickinson, since the poems were written over 150 years ago some words may be not familiar in our modern English, therefore, get yourself a good dictionary and also be consistent in using the Emily Dickinson Lexicon website where it can be found the meanings of such words.

"High on a Mountain Top"

2008-10-22T17:50:00.000-07:00

Saturday's Quest

2008-10-22T17:44:00.001-07:00

Aspen Grove, Saturday, September 20, 2008

2008-10-22T17:40:00.001-07:00

Aspen Grove, Friday, September 19, 2008

2008-10-22T17:32:00.000-07:00

Family Lodge, Aspen Grove

2008-10-22T17:27:00.001-07:00

Emerald Lake, Timp Hike

2008-10-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

Science and the Spiritual Quest (Revised Book Review)

2008-10-20T22:36:00.000-07:00

Science and the Spiritual Quest.
New Essays by Leading Scientists.
Edited by W. Mark Richardson, Robert John Russell, Philip Clayton and Kirk Wegter-McNelly. London and New York: Routledge, 2002.

Science and the Spiritual Quest is a collection of essays written by a variety of credible scientists of today. This book consists of two hundred and sixty four pages, sixteen chapters, and includes an index and highly informative introduction. Through writing each scientist has individually explored their personal beliefs and ideas about science and spirituality, how the two relate or seem unrelated in their minds.

The purpose of these essays is not to argue or persuade, nor to pressurize the reader into accepting one and rejecting the other. Instead, it provides us with insight into the minds of scientists allowing us to understand their points of view and to realize that they, like ourselves, also struggle with the controversial issue of science and religion.

Each scientist contributes a different story, and different perspective in their writing. Most have been brought up in different religious settings, and for some religion has not played a major part in their life. Before reading each scientist’s essay, they are each individually interviewed about their religious and professional background, they explain how religion has influenced their profession or vice versa. This method is useful in aiding us to have a better knowledge of each scientist’s style and personality. It also enables the reader to feel better acquainted with them, the authors.

I chose this book because I am both a science student and a spiritual individual. For the longest time I had separated my studies from my spirituality. Never before had I thought to use the two hand in hand, to compliment rather than contradict one another. This book helped me realize that this was possible, and led me to believe that science is a reflection of God’s intelligence.

This book shows that not all scientists are the impersonal, naïve and ungodly individuals that many stereotype them to be. In fact, some of these scientists used their spirituality to pursue such a profession in the hope that they would be able to find the ultimate truth. A Methodist astronomer, Allan Sandage, was one who pursued astronomy because he wanted to know the purpose of life. He soon learned that “ trying to find the answer within science led nowhere” (p52). Instead, this quest helped him to see that science can only lead to objective truths, and not that of theological truth. Kendler, a Jewish psychiatrist, also realizes this when he says, “when it comes to knowledge about our world and how it works, science is our best and least fallible source of knowledge” (p33).

However, the one thing that this book does not provide us with is a clean-cut answer of what it true and what is not, with this in mind reading this book should not mislead nor disappoint you. As Michael Ruse nicely states: “Religion does not have to be reasonable in a scientific sort of way” (p 139).

I would recommend this book to all who have pondered the question of truth and how or by whom it is determined; can the definition of truth be applied differently in different contexts? I think those interested in the dichotomy of both science and spirituality and who want to find middle ground between the two would enjoy reading this book. You do not necessarily have to have a great understanding of scientific terms, since much of the language is softened to reach out to a larger audience. However, those educated in science to some degree may find it easier to relate more to what these scientists have contributed in their essays.

The Development into a Vegetarian Soul

2008-10-18T12:14:00.000-07:00

Eneas: Today I enjoyed a wonderful breakfast!
Jean-Pierre: Really! What did you have?
Eneas: I had delicious omelets with bacon, orange juice, some pancakes and fruit salad.
Jean-Pierre: That sounds terrific! with just one exception.
Eneas: Which is...?
Jean-Pierre: Bacon.
Eneas: What's wrong with it?
Jean-Pierre: It is pork.
Eneas: For sure it is pork! what's wrong with that.
Jean-Pierre: Well, I don't eat pork.
Eneas: Why?
Jean-Pierre: It is my religion.
Eneas: What do you mean with "your religion"? I know you are a mormon, and mormons do eat pork. What the heck are you talking about?
Jean-Pierre: Well, let me explain you a little bit. There are two things, two reasons.
Eneas: Speak up! I really want to know your reasons, being that you are a smart guy, I really want to know what reasons are holding you back of enjoying the delicious taste of pork.
Jean-Pierre: There it is, one of the reasons. I do not like the taste of pork.
Eneas: Are you kidding me!
Jean-Pierre: No, I'm not kidding you, and there is more to the story.
Eneas: Now you are really intriguing me, I want to know that story.
Jean Pierre: Well, I come from a normal family of meat eaters, starting with my mother who thinks that red meat or any kind of meat is the perfect nutritious food. So, I grew up eating red meat, chicken, fish and from time to time also pork. However, as far as I remember, I never liked the taste of pork.
One day, when I was 15 I told my mother about my decision of not eating pork anymore for the rest of my life. She was surprised about my decision. When she asked me why I refused to eat pork, I simply told her that I did not like its taste. She simply could not understand it.
Eneas: I agree with her, pork is really delicious.
Jean-Pierre: But, I also told her that I knew that porks were raised under usually unsanitary conditions. I guess back in my mind I also developed some aversion to pork because of that.
Eneas: C'mon Jean Pierre, when we cook it we kill all bacteria.
Jean-Pierre: Well, to make a long story short, one day she prepared pork, but she disguised it cutting it in very small pieces and spicing it, so I could not feel the real taste.
Eneas: did you eat it?
Jean-Pierre: Of course I ate it! However that night I got sick. The next morning I was still sick and went to the doctor.
Eneas: What did the doctor say?
Jean-Pierre: After examining, he asked me: "what did you eat yesterday?, did you eat pork?"
Eneas: What did you answer him?
Jean-Pierre: Well, I told him that I had not eaten pork. I didn't know what my mother had done.
Eneas: Then, what happened?
Jean-Pierre: When I got back home, I told my mother exactly what the doctor had asked me, and also what I had answered him. Then, my mother confessed to me that she had given me pork the day before.
Eneas: Really! In other words the pork made you sick!!!
Jean-Pierre: Yes, and my mother learned her lesson, since that day she never gave me pork again.
Eneas: Now, I understand you better but it is not because of your religion, it is because pork makes you sick!
Jean Pierre: Eneas, I believe in living the Word of Wisdom and to me that implies that I must avoid anything that makes me sick.
Eneas: Now I understand much better why you said it was because of your religion.
Jean Pierre: Great!, but you know what? The story does not end there.
Eneas: What? Is there more? What can that be?
Jean Pierre: Even though I did not eat pork, my mother kept feeding me with red meat, chicken and fish, and over the years I started to develop some kind of aversion to any kind of meat.
Eneas: Really! No, that can't be, you are kidding me.
Jean-Pierre: No Eneas, I'm not kidding you. Progressively over the years I did not feel like eating meat. I tried to avoid meat and when I had meat on my plate I usually ate half of it or maybe less.
Eneas: Are you serious?!
Jean-Pierre: I am. I just didn't feel like eating meat. Sometimes I have thought in becoming a vegetarian.
Eneas: Hold on, hold on, ...... a vegetarian?
Jean-Pierre: Yes, Eneas, I feel like I want to be a vegetarian, and I can tell you more.
Eneas: More!!!
Jean-Pierre: Yes Eneas, there is more. Anytime I have to pick a restaurant I look for a vegetarian restaurant.
Eneas: Jean Pierre, you have a problem.
Jean-Pierre: What do you mean?
Eneas: You cannot marry a meat-eater girl.
Jean-Pierre: Well, I still eat meat in low amounts, but to me the less the better. It is not that I hate meat, well, I hate it when I have it in large amounts on my plate, but if I have a very small amount of it, is still Ok. To me I wouldn't miss meat on my plate if it wouldn't be there.
Eneas: Well, you still have another problem, and this one is worse than the other one.
Jean-Pierre: What is it?
Eneas: Indecision. You are like that part of Shakespeare's play that says "to be or not to be, that is the question".
Jean-Pierre: ha, ha, ha, I hadn't thought about it in that way. I guess I am ready to become a vegetarian, but I don't have the right motivation to take that step.
Eneas: I see.
Jean-Pierre: I guess I need two vegetarian missionaries to teach me about vegetarianism, to come over to my house to give me the lessons and challenge me to take that step into the waters of vegetarianism. I feel like I am ready, but not motivated enough to take that step by myself.
Eneas: Nice comparison, but I do not know anybody in this world of God that goes around like mormon missionaries trying to convert people to vegetarianism. I guess there is a more practical solution.
Jean-Pierre: And what is it?
Eneas: Simple. Just marry a vegetarian girl!
Jean Pierre: I guess you are right, I just need to find one and that is not an easy task in this Utah-meat-eating world.
Eneas: You may try www.vegetariangirls.com
Jean-Pierre: Are you kidding me?
Eneas: Yes, I am kidding you. I don't even know if that website exists, but who knows.
Jean-Pierre: Anyway, it is a good idea. I'll check that address out and I will let you know.

Quest book - How Now: ways to celebrate the present moment

2008-10-17T00:14:00.001-07:00

I chose to do a book by Raphael Cushrin, entitled, "How Now: ways to celebrate the present moment." This book contains things to do to be truly happy with yourself, life, and others around you and truly appreciate it. It has 120 pages, and 10 chapters. The text is simple much like our "Markings" book and it also is helpful on our personal quest. It is also like our other book in that it contains and asks us to do activities that improve our overall spirituality, our writing, as well as ourselves personally. It is exploring how to fill ourselves with power, purpose, and love. The author wants to help us to "seize the moment" and find "freedom from negative thoughts and behaviours."

I chose this book because I wanted to understand the concept of actively being involved in our personal spiritual quests. I learned how to better myself, to compliment others, and see what effects came out of going out and by trying to better others, bettering us in the process. I liked this book because it involves doing something physically and putting the experiences and what we read to heart other than just reading it. It asks us to write and be involved in what we're reading. I learned what I was making the most important things in my life, what I should prioritize, and how to change my focus. Applying what I learned was easy because that was what the book was based on: application. Such as one practice in which I chose someone who I noticed was struggling and thinking of what I most admired about that person, then offering that praise to them without wanting anything in return except the communication of that expression.

Afterwards, finding how that communication affected that person themselves and how our relationship was affected was overwhelming. Just a simple praise, something we tend to over think or neglect, can change things around us and can affect how we go about our lives or how we interact with others.

The author speaks in his introduction about what he wants the reader to partake and what he believes would come of it. He makes the quotes of Horace, "Seize the day," Heraclitus, "You can never step in the same river twice," and Ram Dass, "Be here now," the main quest of the book and the reader. He points out what we can do now to change us later. He points out small things we are missing when we are even reading the book such as looking around to the location in which we are reading, a point we tend to forget when absorbed in a reading or writing something. Just smelling and hearing what is around us really helps us realize what we start missing in our day to day occurrences. He successfully gets the reader to take a part in their own quest by making it easy and pointing out an aspect we tend to forget or overlook and having a practice on how to actively pursue it and change.

This book is truly advantageous to finding our way in our personal quest. I would recommend this book to anyone to find ourselves and our own way in our personal quests. We tend to be so blind and are prone to complicating the world around us. We also tend to lose ourselves in the midst of it all, and so I would also recommend this to those who are missing the simplicity of how to be truly happy, the simplicity of truth itself, and the simplicity in understanding who they truly are.

"How Now: Ways to celebrate the present moment." Raphael Cushnir. San Francisco, Chronicle Books, 2005.

This Is Why We Give

2008-10-16T23:31:00.001-07:00

Because we have,
because it is good,
because is the right thing to do,
because it is needed,
because it is important,
because we want,
because it blesses,
because it heals,
because it shows the way,
because it is life,
because we love,
because you are worth regardless who you are,
because it was commanded to us to give it to you,
because it is free,
because it makes you free,
because we like to share,
because it is light to light your own world.
Amen.

The Path

2008-10-16T23:23:00.000-07:00

The path implies direction,
beginning and destiny.

Made by hands of intelligent men or
by feet of the simple ones.

The path is as old as the first man,
the traveler of ancient years.

The path is a witness of sunrises and sunsets,
and everything in between.

The path is hard for some,
easy for others.

The strong and young and the old and weak,
both have to walk it, soon or later.

We are all travelers on this life,
walking the paths of life.

Poems of Emily Dickinson Book Review

2008-10-16T20:55:00.001-07:00

Dickinson, Emily. Poems of Emily Dickinson. Boston: Little, Brown, and Company, 1932.

Poems of Emily Dickinson is a collection of roughly 800 poems by Emily Dickinson, a U.S. poet who lived during the mid 1800s in Massachusetts. The book is 378 pages long. Her poems have long been loved and adored by many and few pass through their academic careers without encountering phrases like, "Hope is the thing with feathers," or "I shall not live in vain." By reading through the complete works of Dickinson, one gains a greater understanding of the sweet sensitivity that pervades her poetry.

I chose to read Poems of Emily Dickinson because I enjoy the emotion and sensitivity that she puts into her poems and I feel that I can relate with her outlook on life. As I read I really enjoyed seeing that others experience life in ways that are somewhat similar to mine. Dickinson's poems helped me in my own quest by giving me an example of writing. I often spend time pondering on the meaning of life (as most of us do) but I rarely take the time to put things into words, or better, poems. After reading Dickinson's poems, I feel a greater sense of desire to write more myself; particularly in the form i love most--poetry. In addition to these things, reading through her various different forms helps me not feel ashamed to try my own forms when I write.

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My favorite poem from the book was:

"Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Which I really enjoy because it not only describes hope, but makes you feel more hopeful! I also enjoyed another poem that I had not read before:

"Who court obtain

Within himself

Sees every man a king;

So poverty of monarchy

Is an interior thing.

No fate depose

Whom Fate ordain—

And who can add a crown

To him who doth continual

Repudiate his own?

I like this poem because it talks about how those who rule ought to reject praise and power and should see all men as kings and not just themselves. The phrase, "So poverty of monarchy/ Is an interior thing," seems to imply that those who are kings who aggrandize themselves are really the ones who are in poverty. I think it's interesting that she talks about this given that she was a women living in the 1800s.

Overall, I think Dickinson's poetry is powerful and penetrating, yet often sweet. She writes on many different themes including nature, love, death, religion, and war. Notwithstanding the great breadth of her poetry topics, there is still much depth an poignancy in the topics about which she writes. One of the reasons she seems to be able to cover so many themes is because of the many different of forms and rhyme schemes that she uses. For example, the two poems above: "Hope is a thing with feathers" has 6-8 syllables per line giving it a bouncier more hopeful feel to it; while the second poem has fewer syllables on each line, giving it a slightly more serious demeanor.

My only critique of Dickinson is that many of her poems are very short, some just 4-8 lines. Though this can make for poignant poetry, some of her poems weren't long enough for me to get a feel for what she was trying to convey when she wrote the poem.

The great breadth of topics in Dickinson's poems lends it to being widely appreciated by a variety of audiences. Whether it be someone at a difficult point in their life, or at one of the high time, someone looking for poems of love or poems of nature, Dickinson has something to offer. I believe all lovers of poetry will be able to gain enjoyment and inspiration from Dickinson's lyrics If you do not have an extensive vocabulary, I would recommend having a dictionary handy as you read. Also, I would recommend buying a copy of the book (as opposed to checking it out from the library), as you will likely want to mark and reread certain poems. Dickinson has a distinct spirit that she puts into her poetry that makes it unlike any other.

Henry David Thoreau's Walden; or, Life in the Woods

2008-10-16T20:51:00.000-07:00

Thoreau, Henry David. Walden. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1854. (324 pages, 18 sections)

Walden was written by Henry David Thoreau and published in 1854. It is 324 pages and is divided into about eighteen sections. In it Thoreau records his observations and criticisms of the society that he lives in (Western, Euro-American) while living by himself in the woods on the shore of Walden Pond. He lives in a small, but sufficient cabin that he built himself and even claims to have lived on less expenses and less work than those in the city who are very poor and have to work a lot. He doesn’t live as a recluse, but he does try to separate himself as much as possible from society and live off the land with as little help from others as possible. Thoreau was greatly influenced by transcendentalist philosophy, searching for a spiritual enlightenment without organized religion or civilization, so he spends all of his time thinking, reading and studying, except for the little bit of time he needs to use working in order to sustain himself. He also criticizes the common beliefs held by many who are part of society, such as the necessity to own a nice house, have lots of furniture, etc.

Walden is organized into different subjects that Thoreau addresses (like, the economy of living, neighbors, reasons for living, animals, etc.) and also seems to follow a sort of chronological pattern through the seasons of a year, though he actually lived in this cabin for over two years. His book is written as sort of a journal of observations made as a result of his experiences.
I choose to read this book because I had always heard that it was good and hadn’t ever read it. I liked that most all of Thoreau’s observations were made based on his own life experiences. This is something that he actually advocates, learning things more through experience rather than organized schooling.

I learned a lot from Thoreau’s thoughts. He wrote a lot of interesting things that you can just sit and ponder on. One of my favorites was on page fifty-four in the section titled “Economy” when he was writing about many of the unnecessary extravagancies of civilization and said, “Nations are possessed with an insane ambition to perpetuate the memory of themselves by the amount of hammered stone they leave. What if equal pains were taken to smooth and polish their manners?” He goes on to talk about the uselessness of many things created by various societies of the past, and his comments are very funny. I learned from this the power of thinking and observing. Thoreau, for example, talks about how utterly useless the pyramids were and yet so many men labored for so long to build them. If we were to sit and think about the things that we as a society do we might be more economical and practical more often.

I will say that I don’t necessarily agree with everything that Thoreau said (such as the idea that we should seek spirituality without the help of organized religion, for example), but for the most part his observations seem very logical and easy to relate to, especially for a young college student. There are also many times in which Thoreau seems judgmental, but I suppose this could be ascribed to exasperation at the current state of his world and people.

I recommend this book to anyone who feels that society and societal norms have too much control over their lives (with the exception of extremists like Christopher McCandless, who is the subject of Into the Wild), because many of Thoreau’s ideas help you to see things about civilized society from a new perspective.

Surprised by Joy--Revision/Final Draft

2008-10-16T20:43:00.001-07:00

Lewis, C.S. Surprised by Joy. San Diego: Harcourt, Brace & Company, 1984.

The autobiography of C.S. Lewis’ early life, Surprised by Joy, recounts various happenings from his childhood through early adulthood. He reduces this span of about two decades into a mere 238 pages (15 chapters) and most people should find it a smooth read. In his early life, Lewis experienced changing relationships with family and friends, transitions between various schools and teachers, read voraciously, served in the military, and studied at Oxford. Ultimately he journeyed through philosophic paths during this period of his life, searching for what he termed “joy.” At times he worshipped books, authors, music, and nature, even dabbling in the occult for a period. Eventually emerging from these various side roads, he came to worship Jesus Christ as the Son of God. He arrived at that point as “a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape.”

The text moves in a largely chronological fashion, with brief explanatory notes every so often to explain why Lewis chose to include a particular person or event in his narrative. These asides help the casual reader stay interested, but give valuable focus to the critical reader studying to understand how faith and secular learning can build on each other. In this vein, Lewis includes comments regarding both his journey of faith and knowledge of the world. For instance, on concluding the narration of his mother’s death, Lewis remembers taking an opportunity to offer prayers in faith that she would be healed or brought back to life. When the desired results did not occur, he insists his childhood belief in God did not waver, because at that time he saw God only as “a magician,” who could “simply, well, go away” at will. Only later in his youth, when facing the speculative character of Occultism, did his belief in God give way to Atheism. An attitude of pessimism and “deliberate withdrawal from divine protection” led the young Lewis to wander in search of “joy” with increasing gaps between each time he felt the sought after impression. Despite including disconcerting accounts of witnessing pederasty, family feuds, and trench warfare during these atheist years, Lewis uses his ample writing skill to weave humor into the dark, troubling times of life. He also seems to retain a balance in his writing between honoring God with reverence, and making jokes at His expense at the same time. For instance, in describing his adult conversion to Christianity, Lewis mused, “A young man who wishes to remain a sound Atheist cannot be too careful of his reading. There are traps everywhere--[…] God, is, if I may say it, very unscrupulous.”

Through the entire text Lewis makes it clear through diction and detail that he long-resisted the gentle persuasion of a patiently loving Lord. For instance, he uses words denoting battle to describe his changing mindset from Atheism to Christianity. He writes of how a friend “assailed” him with Christian kindness, for example, and how a volume of Christian-themed essays made “immediate conquest” of him. The words “assailed and conquest” bring both smiles and knowing nods in any person who has felt less than willing at times to follow the path God lays out for His children. Resistance often proves itself the key weakness of mortals—resistance to obedience, knowledge, and joy, among other goods.

This theme of overcoming a resistant heart will probably be a lifelong quest for most people, despite having knowledge or skills to do otherwise, and therefore nearly any person would feel kinship with the writings of Surprised by Joy. People seeking spiritual understanding and growth will especially benefit as the book may provide them a model to follow for learning by study and also by faith, amid internal conflicts and all manner of trial. Lewis points out that understanding God’s commands “leads us to the conclusion that union with that Nature [God] is bliss and separation from it horror,” but still the battle continues. Each time a person chooses to give in to the flesh it separates him or her from God, and then, as Lewis explains, people have a choice: “I could open the door or keep it shut; I could unbuckle the armor or keep it on.” Again, the reference to battle, through using the metaphor of unbuckling armor, reminds readers of the resistance within each person’s heart to choose good over evil. The choice is made easier by remembering “the hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.”

“Come, ye disconsolate, ye heavy laden,” as the hymn persuades. Come to find God, any who struggle with the journey of mortal life, and be lifted in sharing the joys of C.S. Lewis’ sojourn through his own words in Surprised by Joy. The person seeking union between intellect and spirit will especially relish the climaxing convergence between study and faith observed in Lewis' writings.

A few caveats:

Do bring a dictionary to your reading of this book. Lewis is classically educated, and a literary genius, so even with a year of Latin behind me, I still had to look up more than a few terms he used.

Don’t come looking for joy as you pick up this book. “Only when your whole attention and desire are fixed on something else […] does the thrill arise,” Lewis teaches. The by-product will follow without “greedy impatience to snare it.”

Quest Book Review-Tuesdays with Morrie

2008-10-16T20:43:00.000-07:00

“The last class of my old professor’s life took place once a week in his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves. The class met on Tuesdays. It began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was taught from experience.” Thus begins, and ends Tuesdays with Morrie. Twenty six chapters, a conclusion and an afterward this 199 page book is the “final thesis” of those Tuesday classes with Morrie.

The story is one of a student and a teacher: the professor named Morrie, and his student Mitch Albom. Perhaps even more importantly, Tuesdays with Morrie is the story of two friends. Mitch Albom becomes friends with a sociology professor named Morrie Schwartz, taking numerous classes from him and even, at Morrie’s encouragement, writing an honors thesis. After graduation Mitch loses touch with Morrie. One night, he sees Morrie on “Nightline,” and learns that Morrie has ALS. Mitch, mostly out of guilt, decides to contact Morrie before he dies. Tuesdays with Morrie is the result of this decision. Mitch unwittingly enrolls in “A Professors Final Course: His Own Death.” In reading his book we, too, become students.

To narrow Tuesdays with Morrie to a single theme would shortchange the book and Morrie himself. The book’s encompassing nature is a strength. In Morrie’s wisdom, however, we do find dominant motifs:
1. Paradoxically, the meaning of life is clearer through deaths magnifying lens.
Tuesdays with Morrie is sometimes filed under the death and grieving section of the bookstore. It is certainly a comfort for the grieving and has a fresh view of death. However, I contest that the book is not about death, but rather, life.
2. Those things which are important in life are: compassion, learning, peace and, above all, love.
Love is a required material for this life course. Repeated constantly throughout the book is W.H. Auden’s quote: “Love each other or perish.” It is Morrie’s mantra. The beautiful irony is that as Morrie perishes physically, he is concerned with emotional life. A loveless spirit, though in a breathing body is dead. To the ambiguous question “Which side wins?” Morrie's answer is “Love wins. Love always wins.”

Tuesdays with Morrie finds strength in simplicity. The book is not simplistic, but presents brilliant ideas in a clear, honest way. Through it we come to know, and love, a brilliant man. Morrie’s effectiveness as a professor lies, not within his lectures, but in his own identity. Morrie loves as firmly as he believes in love. Here is his credibility: Morrie tried to live everything he taught. When asked what he misses the most about Morrie, Mitch says “I miss that belief in humanity.”

Mitch Albom manages to tell two stories in one book: Morrie’s, and his own. Woven among the syllabus and the lessons are two chapters: “The Student,” and “The Teacher.” Through these we learn not only who Morrie Schwartz is, but why he’s this way. Morrie's personal life is suprisingly difficult. We also watch Mitch, earlier on the path, becoming.

Limitations lie, not in the book, but within ourselves. We are hindered by our own inability to focus on and absorb so much emotion at once. It is our own discomfort with feelings, the same discomfort we see in Mitch, which can potentially hold us back. Morrie’s so called “touchy feely” nature, however, is a strength. Morrie is beautiful, nothing more than himself: honest and open. In this sense, Tuesdays with Morrie is above criticism.

Tuesdays with Morrie is for everyone: the grieving, lifeless souls, students, teachers, the lonely, the confused, the busy, the lifeless, the foolish, the wise, the happy and the unhappy. Its concepts are universal, though we may see different lessons within it at different points in our lives. The old and the young can gain from Morrie’s wake up call. Regardless of who we are Tuesdays with Morrie touches our hearts.

Citation

Albom, Mitch. Tuesdays with Morrie. New York: Broadway Books, 1997.

The Promise of Discipleship

2008-10-16T20:30:00.000-07:00

Maxwell, Neal A. The Promise of Discipleship Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 2001. 145pp. (content, acknowledgments, preamble, 10 chapters, notes, sources, and index.)

The book entitled, The Promise of Discipleship, isn’t just a book, it is also a map. It is an eloquent map that gives detailed directions, and intricate instructions explaining how to come unto Christ. This book explains to one and all, how to be a disciple of the Master, Jesus of Nazareth. Granted it isn’t really a topographical map, but the words written within this book, if followed will lead the wayward soul or the faithful disciple, through life’s tempests, and unto discipleship. This book is not part of the accepted Canon; however, it was written by an Apostle of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and contains much scripture with profound insight and wisdom pertaining to the application of the scriptures. Elder Maxwell’s book was written to address the “continuing challenge and adventure of discipleship.” He teaches and expounds on a wide variety of topics, including: determination, long-suffering, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and the prophet Joseph Smith. The book is organized into ten chapters, one hundred twenty-nine pages, with topics that sequentially build upon one another, and end with a great modern example of discipleship, the martyred prophet Joseph Smith.
I chose to read The Promise of Discipleship because I wanted to come closer to my Savior. The only way to do that is by learning of Him, and following Him. Elder Maxwell’s book consequently interested me because I knew it would help me understand myself better and how to be a better disciple of Christ. I gained so many insights and learned so much as I read. During my reading, I wrote down powerful statements on a separate sheet of paper, twenty-one actually, that are helping me become a better person. One such statement that is helping me in my current occupation (teacher) is this, “If you are ever called upon to chasten a person, never chasten beyond the balm you have within you to bind up.” I love the profound advice that is given throughout this book! Elder Maxwell thoroughly taught and expounded his stated theme, that of the “challenge and adventure of discipleship.” He does so by referencing other prophets and apostles and by his own weighty insights and council. The main ideas were very clearly communicated in the chapters. He was able to express his ideas by the use of ample practical examples and stories that illustrated his points, and then making those principles clear to the reader by his explanations. The reading material is quite spiritual in nature and much truth is expressed, therefore many ideas are clear to the disciple. An added measure of understanding comes from the Holy Ghost inspiring the intellect to more fully understand the material. If there are any delimitations it would be my ability to understand all of the vocabulary used, but he did a great job.
I fully recommend this book to anyone who wants to learn more about discipleship. If anyone wants to better understand how to come unto Christ, then this book is for them. This book will be better understood by those of the Latter -Day Saint community, but it provides valuable insight for all faiths and all sincere readers. To arrive at any destination we need directions; we need a map. To become true disciples we must learn from all of the best books available. Elder Maxwell’s book in no way replaces the scriptures; however, the Promise of Discipleship does provide us with a map for daily living. It is a map with sound directions that can help lead us unto happy living, as disciples of Jesus Christ.

Walden, by Henry David Thoreau

2008-10-16T20:14:00.000-07:00

Thoreau, Henry David. Walden, An Annotated Edition. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1995. 375 pp. (Front pages, table of contents, foreward, 18 chapters, appendix, works cited.)

Walden, by Henry David Thoreau, gives the reader a chance to meditate on the bigger picture in life - To find out the real why behind many of the menial tasks and jobs that we find ourselves engaged in during the grind of daily life, and especially to leave them behind in order to truly grow. Thoreau writes the book from his small self-built home located near Walden Pond in Concord, Massachusetts. Written as a highly descriptive narration to his time spent there, Thoreau pauses regularly to offer his thoughts about the daily occurrences that he is faced with. Covering 375 pages, the book is divided into eighteen different chapters that are divided into subjects such as the outward Economy, physical descriptions of the area around his home, and his deep reflection such as those contained in Where I lived, and What I Live For.

I chose Walden because I know it has been one of the most influential books written by an American author, even to the point that it was quoted in the latest General Conference. I decided that I would like to know what everyone was talking about and discover it for myself. I loved that within Walden, Thoreau often makes deeply insightful, but powerful statements about how life is lived, and especially how it should be lived. Within the closing chapter of the book he pleads for the reader to “… be a Columbus to whole new channels, not of trade, but of thought.”
He clearly explains man’s obsession with gain in trade and labor, and how when endeavored only with such, our intellectual capacity is wasted and our own personal growth is severely retarded. He states that it is hard to have so many subtle masters in life “but worst of all when you are the slave-driver of yourself.” Throughout the book he invites us to pay attention to nature and soak in the beauties that God has blessed us with, that many of life's lessons can be learned in the observation of nature's creatures.

However, while being recluse in order to meditate and seriously contemplate life, the highly-educated and well-read Thoreau in no way advocates solely living in nature for your entire life, in fact he meets many loggers and hunters that are equally stunted in personal growth by their lack of education. I can definitely try to apply his charge of simplifying your life by removing those trivial objects that are not necessary in life, you don’t have to have the newest and best products, in fact, this false quest often block our thoughts from being engaged in real thinking and enlightenment. Thoreau worked only to satisfy his necessities and had an incredible amount of time to dedicate to exploring both his surroundings and the inner workings of his neighbors thoughts and aspirations.

I felt that Thoreau especially illustrated his quest for truth, first, by being able to step outside the ordinary pursuits and hub-bub of the world and effectively take an outside-in approach at looking at this world. This view was often countered in the dialogues that he had with his neighbors. Their honest responses showed just how closed and distracted that many of our minds are. It made me realize that by letting go of these selfish and ultimately irrelevant ambitions, we can be honest with ourselves and the situations around us. There will be nothing to cloud our judgment and we can honestly discover what life is all about by being in tune with ourselves. He also expressed this quest by letting his thoughts wander over specific explanations of why events happen, inviting the reader to do the same with the activities in our own lives. Thoreau did not cover a lot of ground geographically in his life, but he made monumental expeditions to discover the very essence and purpose of life. However, I felt that much of his powerful statements were completely flooded by too many descriptions and narratives of nature and farming that I found unimportant and Thoreau often times did not make any connection from these daily tasks to any insightful thought. His long descriptions of hoeing his beans, often lead me to believe that he only wished to get out every possibly thought that entered his brain during the years he lived at Walden Pond. Sleepy reader beware.

I would follow Thoreau’s recommendation and also recommend the book to all of those “poor students” of life, searching for the truth in life. I especially recommend the book to high school and college age individuals, so that they can open their minds to these suggestions before being overpowered by the demands of life and their careers, because I believe it would allow them to place priorities on what is really important and what they should dedicate their time and energies to. The reader should also read this book only if they will also allow themselves time outside of reading to ponder the messages therein. This book is an excellent “brain-opener” before someone steps into the “real world” of adult life.

Discipleship - Our Calling

2008-10-16T19:51:00.000-07:00

Maxwell, Neal A. The Promise of Discipleship. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 2001. 145 pg. (content, acknowledgments, preamble, 10 chapters, notes, sources, and index.)

The Promise of Discipleship is an informative and inspiring religious novel about our quest and role as a disciple of Christ. Throughout this book, Elder Maxwell goes through the steps of becoming a true disciple and the blessings that we can receive. Also, he gives us wise and sound counsel on how to become a better disciple. Focusing on the trials that will strengthen us, the need for divine determination, the mercy and justice of God, willingness to accept the Lord’s timing, and the gift of the Holy Ghost we are taught about our importance and need to be disciples. Elder Maxwell brilliantly synthesizes scripture and quotes from authorities throughout his writing, and each chapter leads into the next topic in a very smooth and understandable way bringing consistency and coherence to the book.

My grandfather gave me this book this past summer, and my husband and I were hoping for an opportunity to read it. The knowledge that we are disciples of Christ really attracted me to this book, but I’ve always wanted to know more about the role that I play, as a disciple, in the Lord’s grand plan. Well, Elder Maxwell’s wise words truly helped me understand more about my calling to help the Lord. As a disciple I have a calling and duty to share the gospel with others, but he stresses the need of meekness. We are always “on stage” as disciples; “moving along the straight and narrow path is scarcely a solitary or unobserved thing.” He advises that we use meekness to endure the public calling of discipleship. This meekness that he stresses does not come all at once, he stated, “the process of discipleship is carried out in the process of time.” The way we use our time is one of the greatest lessons that I took away from this book. Elder Maxwell understands that some of our time must be devoted to the betterment of society, he stated:

Nevertheless, such cares and chores can come to dominate life. We can easily find ourselves anxiously engaged in doing these lesser things, so that too little of ourselves and of our time are left over for the things of God. Our management of time tells us so much about the management of ourselves.

As I have been focusing on my personal quest this semester, I realized that I want to grow in knowledge, faith, truth, and I want to improve my relationship with Christ. After reading this book, I recognized that Elder Maxwell has enabled me to progress in all of these areas of my quest. My knowledge and understanding of the gospel has increased, and my faith in and relationship with Christ have greatly improved. I have been personally inspired to be a better disciple of Christ. I learned that even though I go to Brigham Young University, I can still share the gospel with others. As I always stand as a witness of Christ, I hope that my every action and word can shine as an example to others. Also, I’m so grateful for the experiences that the Lord has blessed me with because I know they have helped shape me into the person I am. Honestly, I received a greater respect and understanding of my calling, and I have an increased desire to do all I can to move the work of the Lord forward.

Elder Maxwell’s diction is masterful. The way he phrases points, uses alliteration, a very large vocabulary, and a deep and cumulative knowledge of the gospel makes this book a colorful, entertaining, and touching account of a gospel subject. One of the tools that Elder Maxwell uses successfully is comparing our lives to the lives of past scriptural figures or prophets. In a very personal way, he talks about his love and admiration of Joseph Smith and the amazing things he accomplished while enduring trials like Job. We, like Joseph, have been given trials and experiences that will be for our good. Elder Maxwell said, “Since we do not remember ordering them from life’s menu, so many defining moments are actually compliments of the chef!”

“Obviously, a determining and defining moment lies ahead for all mortals. Yet that defining moment turns on our choices today.” Every mature member of the church should choose to read this book today. If you prayerfully search its content for revelation and inspiration from the Holy Ghost, you will be blessed with a new understanding of discipleship. Study the pages carefully, truly seeking for guidance and specific phrases that touch you personally. That’s one of the many amazing aspects of the gospel: every individual will take away a different personal message if they are spiritually prepared. I am so grateful for the experiences that I had with this quest book. It has truly inspired me to be a better disciple of Christ.

The Giver by Lois Lowry

2008-10-16T16:35:00.000-07:00

Lowry, Lois. The Giver. New York, New York: Houghston Mifflin Company, 1993. 180 pp. (Front pages, title page, dedication, Books by Lois Lowry, 23 chapters, end pages.)

The Giver is a story about young Jonas, a twelve year old boy who lives in a futuristic, seemingly utopian, community that has chosen “Sameness” – the absence of choices, color, and differences. After Jonas is selected to have the honor of taking upon him the memories of the society before Sameness, he begins to question the forced state of contentment that the community has chosen for its citizens.

Each year, fifty Newchildren are born, and they progressively move up through the age groups, Twos, Threes, Fours, etc. as each year passes. The children are taught precision of language, manners, punctuality, and skills carefully regulated by the leaders of the community. They are not to call attention to any differences they may possess or notice in others. Once they become Twelves, they are given Assignments – careers chosen carefully by a group of Elders – and become adults and official members of the community. They remain in their Assignments until they are no longer able to contribute to the community, and, if they wish, they may petition to the Elders to have a spouse and two children assigned to them. Later in life, they enter the House of the Old, where they are taken care of until their time of Release. Release is almost a taboo subject – it is an honor for the Old, a time of sadness for the Newchildren, and a punishment and source of shame for citizens who cannot abide by the Rules of the community. All that the people are told of Release is that the people are sent Elsewhere.

Once Jonas is selected to become the Receiver of Memory, he begins his training in this job of great importance and honor. The previous Receiver, who tells Jonas to call him the Giver, transmits the memories of the world before Sameness to Jonas. He is given memories of joy, hunger, pain, love, war, fear – all of which the current community has never experienced. He is also enlightened on the subject of Release, which turns out to be a form of euthanasia. As this young boy is given the rare opportunity to gain knowledge, he is able to see clearly that the lives of his family and peers are void of fulfillment and true emotion. He quickly comes to the realization that the act of choosing is important and that, without differences, true emotion cannot be felt.

What begins as the story of a young man trying to fit into his closely regulated community becomes the story of the young man learning and fighting for the importance of agency. Although the people surrounding him are content in their ignorance, Jonas begins to realize how much more there can be to life, and that the chosen Sameness is actually a limitation on happiness rather than an assurance of it. Because the members of his community are content with their ignorance, Jonas is forced to make his quest with only the help of the Giver, and he must learn to make his own decisions about what is right and wrong. Based on the memories he receives, he is forced to delve into the knowledge he has access to and choose for himself the sory of life he wants to lead. He must not only make these decisions, but he must decide with enough certainty to act upon them.

The book is written in a simple, easy to understand, and straightforward manner. Jonas is logical and seemingly accurate, and the environment is easy to accept and understand although it is not technically a situation that is easily comprehended or believable. The character development pulls you in, and it is easy to feel the same attachments and frustrations felt by Jonas. Lowry takes a strong theme (agency) and places it in a simple story, one that children could read and enjoy. Although told in a simple manner, The Giver is a book that makes you think. The not-completely-resolved ending leaves you with questions, yet with a positive feeling overall. The unique use of vocabulary (Sameness, Sixes, Newchild, Old, Release, Childless Adults, etc.) adds to the feel of the book taking place in its own isolated little world. Yet it is a world that is able to be comprehended in just under 200 pages.

Occasionally, discontinuities would arise (such as the ability to remove the majority of people’s ability to see color, while the Giver and Jonas were still able to see it), but it didn’t interfere with the plot or the overall message. Because the book is written so simply, people may write it off as a children’s story (located in the Juvenile Literature section of the library). The message, however, shines through and is appropriate for people of all ages.

I highly recommend this book to people of any gender or time of life. It’s perfect for people with a busy schedule – it is an easy read that could be completed in an afternoon. The book causes reflection and makes you think, but it doesn’t leave you feeling unsettled. It invoked in me a deep feeling of gratitude for my own agency and ability to experience a full range of emotions and sensations.

Lakota Woman- Quest Book Review (revised)

2008-10-16T14:53:00.001-07:00

Crow Dog, M., & Erdos, R. Lakota Woman. New York: Harper Perennial, 1990. 263 pp. $11.00. (front pages, 16 chapters, epilogue)

Lakota Woman is biography of Mary Crow Dog, a Native American, Sioux woman from the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. The book follows Mary’s life, as she moves from a free spirited, bitter child to the strong, warrior-type woman who plays a unique role in the American Indian Movement (AIM). Her life is a series of struggles, heartache, and conflict. However, despite her trial Mary Crow Dog changes her life around after embracing her Native American spirituality. She joins the AIM organization and it opens her eyes to a new world. It is through the AIM that Mary finds herself, by the helping of others, and commits the rest of life to doing so. Mary writes Lakota Woman in a style that is very honest and straight to the point. She tells her story as it is and, in no way tries to glamorize it or conceal any truth.

Lakota Woman had been sitting amongst my father’s great collection of Native American literature. It had always attracted my eye, yet I never picked it up. At a time in my life where I am solidifying my identity, I found this book to be most appropriate for reestablishing who I am as Native American woman. What I like most about this book is observing how Mary Crow Dog’s trails turned her to the woman she is today. Mary had a difficult life that includes harsh experiences at boarding school, injustice on the reservation, a dark period of drugs and alcohol, bloodshed of beloved friends and family, the giving of birth to her son, Pedro, amongst the siege at Wounded Knee and lastly, the imprisonment of her husband, Leonard Crow Dog, a well respected medicine man and AIM activist.

In her book she writes, “At age ten I could drink and hold a pint of whiskey. At age twelve the nuns beat me for ‘being too free with my body.’ All I had been doing was holding hands with a boy. At age fifteen I was raped (p.4).” Somehow, despite these hardships, Mary was able to move on and let go of the hardships by the assisting of others. What I learned from Mary Crow Dog is this: trails, hardships, pain, and suffering come into our lives. They sometimes seem difficult to bear and overcome, but “life goes on” (p. 263) and just as she said, “I will live” (p.260), we too will live.

One of Mary’s strengths in Lakota Woman, as I mentioned before, is her honesty. She did not try to pretty up or keep clean the events of her life. She had a story to tell and she wrote it in a way that is both loud and clear. Mary also writes in a way that is very passionate and descriptive. At times in her life when she experiences anger, sorrow, or happiness, the reader can feel and sense that emotion as if you were Mary herself. The only limitation I found was that perhaps Mary Crow Dog hasn’t allowed enough time to pass before she decided to write Lakota Woman. In some of the stories she tells, the reader can still sense the pain or anger she feels. Sometimes she sounds as if she is prejudice against white people in general and not just the ones who wronged her. Lakota Woman was written not too long after the AIM movement took place and perhaps Mary needed more time to sort out a few issues. From a reader’s point of view, Mary did a great job of keeping the reader interested in the book. I could not seem to put this book down. Taking a break and disruptions seemed painful. However, a delimitation that I came across is that sometimes Mary would go off in another direction that would make things confusing. For example, while Mary tells about an interaction with her friend Annie Mae Aquash, she brings in something that irrelevant to the story. This sparks another idea and then another, until the reader sometimes becomes lost. This makes it harder to follow along her wonderful story.

In the end, I really enjoyed this book. It has certainly helped me along my quest of solidifying my identity. I recommend this book to all who want to know a little bit about the truth of what Native Americans experience today, for sometimes history books conceal certain truths. Life is not nearly the same as what Mary experienced, but some of the trails that she experience still persist for Native Americans today. I also recommend this book to other Native Americans. The people of the AIM did something remarkable and paved a way for other Native Americans today. Just by reading it myself, I have gained a great appreciation for what people like Mary Crow Dog did in order for me to have greater opportunities today.

On a final note, I warn that for those Native Americans who do read it, it is very easy, especially while reading all the unjust and inhumane things that the Native Americans experience, to become very angry and bitter toward other people and want to seek some sense of revenge. However, one thing that is important to understand is what the AIM organization was all about. Their main purpose was to educate Native Americans of the rights that were being ignored because they lack this particular knowledge. Thus, I believe that what the AIM people and Mary Crow Dog would want for people is to educate themselves so that experiences like theirs do not resonate in within their own lives.

Utopia Book Review (Revised)

2008-10-16T14:36:00.000-07:00

More, Thomas, Sir, Saint. Utopia. London: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc, 1975. (130 pages, 2 books, index)

In More's Utopia, the author lays out, in some detail, the society of a island dwelling people called the Utopians. The book takes a slightly unique approach as it is not a story about characters that live in Utopia, rather, it is an overview made and communicated to us by a person who merely visited there and familiarized himself with the place and its people. The book itself is somewhat of a commentary on ideals and societal perfections as it takes the account of the Utopians and naturally compares it to the modern societies of the time. Though the book and time period from which it comes is older, the implications and insights still give modern day readers material for reflection and discussion.

The work, as a whole, is actually divided into two distinct parts called books. The societal and cultural overview of the Utopians, however, makes up the writing in the second book, which book will be the focus of my review. This second book is rather short in length as it does not exceed 100 pages but does contain a wealth of sociological, geographical, and political information about the Utopians.

As a writer, i find the book impressive because it takes the idea of actual societal perfection and creates it in the form of a fictional people and then dissects it as though it were actually being visited by an outsider. Creating a whole world is one thing, but creating a world with laws, balance, geography, social class, religion, and all the other details that make up actual society, is particularly impressive. The level of excellence the book achieves is perhaps better realized when we try to use it as a model and create our own Utopia. Just making it a generally "fair" place, while still maintaining the idea that man is flawed and independent is a chore in and of itself.

As a reader, i find the book fascinating both in its content and style. I enjoyed the intricate and full detail that the author puts into this Utopian society such that it is easy to forget it is a place of fiction. I cannot help but think this society, though perhaps ultimately unattainable, is as close to ideal as possible.One of the strengths of this book that i find particularly far reaching is the impact that it still has on modern readers. People debate the possibility of such a place, even in theory, to this very day. Its societal commentary shows us the differences between what we really have and what we perhaps ought to have. Many of the common problems in society and entirely lacking in Utopia. One example is poverty. In Utopia, there is no such thing as poverty because all who are able are required to work in order to stay within the society. All things are shared in common and people work together. Skills are learned by all and taught to others with people switching jobs and learning a new skill or trade every ten years. Because the societies members are all skilled laborers, much of the work done there is achieved with great speed and efficiency and all are rewarded for their work with adequate food, shelter, clothing, and all other necessities. The leaders of Utopia are not rewarded more than is reasonable and are also required to work for their own support. They are under the same laws as the people. These are just some of the technical mechanics of the society that allow it to be so successful. When we consider that this work was written several hundred years ago, we see quite clearly that many of these seemingly simple ideas were ahead of their time. Having the ability to create these ideas and implement them into a fictional society, is impressive to say the least.

As far as potential limitations are concerned, the one that i find is the lack of individualism in the work, both in the writer and the Utopians themselves. I would have enjoyed a more personal interaction between the author and the people not unlike Gulliver's travels. Messages are often clearly understood if seen through the lens of ground level interaction. This would be the only real limitation in my opinion.

In terms of this book in relation to my quest, i chose it because of the idea that perfection is something for which a person can continually strive. This book looks, in detail, at an actual implementation of societal perfection. The thing that is of personal interest and significance to me is the idea that societal perfection is impossible without each and every individual doing the very best they can for the good of society. This requires traits like humility, self-sacrifice, and social cognizance, all of which are worth striving for. While the society in this book is not real, the idea of striving for perfection and continued personal improvement is very real to me. Taking a book, whether based on fact or fiction, and using it as a model, is something that is personally helpful to me and this is why i chose this book as my quest book.

I find that this book is best read form an almost critical point of view. I would invite the potential reader to take a shrewd view of the ideas put forth in this book and try to find holes in the methodology. When one does this, it reveals the depth and thoughtfulness of the work in that there are far fewer structural weaknesses than one might originally assume. I recommend this book to anyone who has an analytical mind and has an interest in hearing thoughts on societal perfection. In my own life quest, i find the book powerful as i examine the type of person which is requisite in making an ideal society work. Perhaps the things that speak to me are not the same things that speak to others.

Quest Book Report 2, Night, Cindy Hurst REVISED

2008-10-16T13:27:00.001-07:00

Wiesel, Elie. Night Canada: Douglas & McIntyre Ltd., 2006.

In Night, the narrative character Eliezer, based on Elie Wiesel himself, shares his experience in a memoir of being a Jew forced into the concentration camp Auschwitz. He explains how his community of Jews in Hungary had lived in optimism until it was too late, how even when they were warned of the horror that was to become their lives, they did not believe that such brutality could exist in the modern world. When Eliezer is forced into this state of living himself, he begins to question his belief in God, thinking that in no way would God ever allow something so cruel to happen to people. However, Eliezer emerges from the camp with a small hint of faith still lingering in him, driving him to survive. People who didn’t have faith, would loose hope and died, but Eliezer never gave up completely, perhaps not quite giving up that originally naïve optimism that led his friends and family to the concentration camp in the first place.

My good friend recommended this book to me as a "quest text" with the idea that the main character is able to find his faith. The strength of religion in this book, however, is more manifested in the fact that Eliezer was able to maintain enough faith, even with all the suffering he witnessed and experienced, to be able to survive the holocaust. He was on a quest to survive brutalities that no human being should ever be forced to survive through by striving to maintain even the smallest amount of hope. His hope was found in his father and in the small amount of faith that lingered in the depths of his soul. I, like Eliezer, have found myself questioning God in the past during times of difficulty. However, I realize that God is merciful and doesn't abandon his children even in their unbelief.

Elie Wiesel wrote this book with the intent for society to never forget the travesty that happened during the holocaust. He achieved this well by writing his experience in a nice and short, easy-to-read, first person account of the holocaust. Because it is written in first person the reader is able to connect more easily with the spiritual effects that occurred to Eliezer. You can understand how hard it would be to maintain faith in God, when right before you, you witness a truckload of babies being dumped into a fire pit. And yet he finds himself in prayer when times become the most difficult to conquer. It is sad to learn that he chooses to leave the infirmary to be with his father when his camp is evacuated, however, it left me impressed that even he who had an injured foot was able to survive the long march to Gleiwitz in the freezing snow when so many others died. It just makes you realize how bad off everyone must have been. This becomes even more manifested as Eliezer witnessed sons and fathers abandoning each other, and finds that even himself found himself in extreme temptation to have the burden of his father gone from him as well. And yet, something within him, does not yet give his father up until he finds his hospital bed replaced by another sick person. But that is when he ceases to have meaning in his life as a prisoner in a concentration camp.

Readers of all ages will be able to read and connect to its message, though it shares some gruesome details that would be more appropriate for a high school setting and older. However, if not this book, I feel that all civilization should be required to know of the devastating effect that the holocaust had on both the physical, mental, and spiritual aspects of the lives of the persecuted.

Quest Book Review - A Christmas Carol (Revised)

2008-10-16T11:51:00.000-07:00

Charles Dickens. A Christmas Carol. London, England. Chapman and Hall. December 17, 1843.

Charles Dickens’, “A Christmas Carol”, is a classic literary tale well known by many people. It details the life of one Ebenezer Scrooge, a crotchety old miser who experiences one of the greatest transformations over the course of one night that pen can scribe. Upon reading the opening scene, it is evident that Scrooge has lost any sense of kindness, compassion, or charity that he may have had sometime throughout his life, and it has all been replaced by greed and selfishness. On Christmas Eve night however, he is visited by his long since dead business partner Jacob Marley. The ghost of Marley relates to Scrooge all of his woes and regrets after living a life very similar to Scrooge’s own, and declares to Scrooge that he has come to issue a warning that Scrooge must change his ways, or face an eternity as sorrowful as his own. Three ghosts then visit Scrooge over the course of the night. One chauffeurs Scrooge through his past, through happy times in his childhood and apprenticeship where Scrooge experiences a deep and sincere joy he had not known for ages. This joy came not from money, which has since conquered his heart, but from the purity of his family and friends for whom he cared deeply. The second ushers him through life, as he now knows it. He shows Scrooge the hollowness of his life now with his riches compared to the simple pleasure of his nephew and clerk’s lives shared with their families. The last wordlessly guides him through the future which would be if Scrooge continues down the path he is on. Scrooge witnesses his own funeral, the death of tiny Tim, and the lack of grief by all those who knew him. In these experiences, Scrooge comes to realize the true nature of happiness, and what really matters in life. He awakes on Christmas morning as a new man, his selfishness and bitterness gone forever, replaced by a love for life and generosity.

I absolutely love, “A Christmas Carol”. Many statements made in this book are extremely profound. In fact, this is one of President Monson’s all time favorite sources to quote from. The parallels between Dickens’ writing and the teachings of the gospel are striking. As Marley’s ghost describes the details of his fate and the cause thereof, I cannot help but turn introspective.

"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you?"

Every time I hear or read these lines, I reflect on my life. Am I making the same mistake as Marley did? Am I putting things of lesser value like money, fame, or career above the things that truly matter? Am I forging my own chain? Each time I finish this story, I can’t help but ponder on what really matters most in life, and sometimes I am forced to re-organize my priorities.

Dickens' literary style manifests itself in many different forms. I greatly enjoy the irony he uses against Scrooge's former self. Everything Scrooge says and does, as well as everyone he meets in the first stave of the book has an impact on what happens later on. One of my favorite, stinging ironies Dickens uses is when a man comes by to collect donations, and Scrooge states that if the poor would rather die than go to the prisons and union workhouses, than they had better get to it and decrease the surplus population. Later on in the third stave, Scrooge is witnessing the physical ailment Tiny Tim suffers from and asks the spirit in earnest if Tiny Tim will live. The spirit replies,

"If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race," returned the Ghost, "will find him here. What then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

Such a piercing bit of irony truly cannot be ignored by the reader. Dickens takes a crotchety old geezer like Mr. Scrooge and over the course of three ghostly visits, breaks down the entirety of his life and character, and allows the reader to see just how he became as he is in the first stave. And just as the reader gets a view of the innermost workings of Scrooge's heart, it begins to change, and the reader witnesses a complete and absolute transformation. I marvel at Dickens' use of dialog in revealing the true fiber of his characters. The combination of intense imagery and dialog allows the reader to contrast the Scrooge of the first stave and the Scrooge of the fifth stave as two completely opposing individuals. It allows us to see the results of the quest that Scrooge has experienced.

I feel that Ebenezer Scrooge truly does undergo a quest for moral enlightenment. True he does not set out of this quest of his own free will and choice, but that does not diminish its lasting effects on his life. He begins morally decrepit. He is spiritually void. All sense of charity and kindness have long since abandoned his heart. But through the help of Jacob Marley and the three ghosts his heart is changed. He achieves moral kindness and compassion. His spirit is filled with charity and generosity and he achieves the enlightenment that he lacked. Being true to his new outlook on life and changing his dismal future are sure signs that he completed his quest.

This book appeals to any audience that can read, or at least understand what is read to them. For children it is a fun-filled story about Christmas. For adults it is a comprehensive volume of what is important and what is not. I think everyone, especially in Western society, is prone to being caught up in greed and selfishness. So many of us are ready and willing to stab our neighbor in the back to put ourselves ahead. We can constantly see as children grow up they tend to lose the kindness and loving innocence and replace it with skepticism and disdain. “A Christmas Carol” allows us to see how silly those things truly are through the eyes of those who may have less money, but at the same time are mansions richer than Ebenezer Scrooge. It shows us that anyone, no matter how stubborn and rude, have the ability to change. All in all, this is a timeless tale that I believe will never lose its truth and appeal.

The Alchemist (revised)

2008-10-16T10:50:00.000-07:00

Coelho, Paulo. The Alchemist. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1993. 197 pp. $13.95. (Front Pages, Introduction, Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Epilogue, A Reader's Guide, Map of Santiago's Journey, An Interview with Paulo Coelho, From Chapter One of The Witch of Portobello, About the Author.)

Upon realizing his own book's fame throughout the world, Paul Coelho, the author of The Alchemist, answered a universal question that often plagues many of us. He writes, "What is a personal calling? It is God's blessing, it is the path that God chose for you here on Earth. Whenever we do something that fills us with enthusiasm, we are following our legend. However, we don't all have the courage to confront our own dream." In The Alchemist, Coelho relates the story of a young shepherd boy who is trying to follow his personal legend and find the treasure that awaits him. On his long journey to his treasure, he comes across valuable waymarks that compose the trail. He learns more about the voice of the universe and how all things will work for your good when you are in pursuit of your own personal legend. He also realizes what is truly valuable in life and how to prioritize events so that one can reach goals. Coelho writes Santiago's journey with vivid language that keeps you turning the pages until the very end!

Santiago, the main character, can personify anyone on the search for their personal legend. Coelho puts Santiago in a variety of different situations and struggles that the average person can identify with. There are many mentors along the path that also help Santiago continue with his quest to find his treasure, exemplifying the idea that with help, even the most lowly figures in society can make something grand of their lives. the book also taught that "the journey" is worth taking. Along the way, Santiago is robbed, disgraced, and even beaten before he finds his treasure. This rang true in my life as I often feel like the trials are too hard to overcome and the roadblocks are too many to surpass on my quest of becoming like Christ. However, Coelho teaches that without the adversity we would could never realize our potential. Sometimes the treasure we seek can even be right in front of us, but we still have to undergo temptation and sacrifice before we ourselves are ready to receive it.

Coelho used the elements of mystery and suspense to convey a sense of urgency as well as endurance. His writing pushed the reader onward to see if Santiago would truly create a lasting personal legend. However, Coelo added a depth to the writing by adding meaningful characters that had failed in their quests. Writing about the successes and failures of individuals that I could see in myself caused me to pause and reflect on how I was doing in my own personal quest of being like Christ. The theme of a journey toward a personal goal was easily transmitted because Santiago was on a journey toward a treasure himself. The theme was also apparent in Coelho's writing because he used so many instances in the story where Santiago either got held up or pushed on by a force that could only be described to our audience as the Holy Ghost. These constant reminders of movement, or the lack thereof, really made me feel like I was either making progress or being stagnant myself.

I would recommend The Alchemist to anyone who needs a reminder of what life is all about. Self discovery and personal resolution sit at the heart of this story of a boy who really represents each of us. It is a good read for someone who has run into hard times as well as for anyone who has no idea what their personal quest should even be. I think that the best way to read The Alchemist is with pencil in hand and no fear to stop and just think on things for a while before continuing. The Alchemist speaks to the heart and then teaches you to understand what is being said back.

Not just another self-alchemy book (revised)

2008-10-16T01:16:00.000-07:00

Coelho, Paulo. The Alchemist. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1993. 197 pp. $13.95. (Front Pages, Introduction, Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Epilogue.)

The Alchemist tells the story of a young shepherd boy who is heeding his calling in life; Coelho poses and answers the most pressing questions in life - our purpose, love, and God (among others) - in the story's due time and profound simplicity. Organized chronologically, the 197-page novel reaches great heights in meaning unexpectedly; the shepherd, Santiago, learns from and teaches those he meets on his quest in humility and childlike persistence until he reaches his goal. In this story often likened to a fable, we follow Santiago through his own personal discovery and purification process and glimpse the secret of alchemy at the climax of the story.

My sister gave me this book years ago and I read it then; I decided it would be the perfect quest book for me to revisit at this point in my life. I read The Alchemist the same way I did the first time: all in one sitting. Completely enveloped in the story, I found many questions and some answers I had forgotten were at the root of my current confusion; one of these was why so many people fail to follow their dreams. We face, generally speaking, four obstacles in realizing our dreams: we are told from childhood onward that everything we want is impossible, and then if we allow ourselves our dreams we are prevented by a fear of hurting those we love, then by fear of failure, and then by impatience and doubts. Succinctly put, the largest take-away message from this book is that "the secret of life... is to fall seven times and to get up eight times." Personally, I feel motivated to follow a combination of my dreams when I was younger - going into international development and accepting the path that will follow rather than taking the cautious route. After a discussion of the four main things that prevent us from reaching our goals, Coelho writes:

So, why is it so important to live our personal calling if we are only going to suffer more than other people?
Because, once we have overcome the defeats - and we always do - we are filled by a greater sense of euphoria and confidence. In the silence of our hearts, we know that we are proving ourselves worthy of the miracle of life. Each day, each hour, is part of the good fight. We start to live with enthusiasm and pleasure. Intense, unexpected suffering passes more quickly than suffering that is apparently bearable; the latter goes on for years and, without our noticing, eats away at our soul, until, one day, we are no longer able to free ourselves from the bitterness and it stays with us for the rest of our lives.

The italicized part of the quote struck me as did many parts of the text - The Alchemist invites you to make an honest assessment of the path you are choosing in life, especially as many college students have to weigh the options of a more lucrative or more fulfilling career. Again, Coelho's humble, folksy writing voice draws attention to the purpose of the story rather than itself. His choice of overt parable as a means for bringing the reader through an alchemy of the soul works well. His characters are believable, lending further credibility to the story and enabling the reader to put themselves mentally in their own quest as they follow in Santiago's steps.

I'll never understand quite why Paulo Coelho's Alchemist lands itself in the occult section of the bookstore. Certainly the title itself is not reason enough to stock it next to tales of the living dead, texts on Wicken, and how-to Harry Potter books. Alchemy is a natural thing for humans, especially any that understand the gospel. The idea that lead could be turned from lowly plubonium to gold isn't so far-fetched to a people that believe that the natural man, our mortal selves, can go through a process of refinement so thorough that it would render us into a state parallel with that of God. If it was possible to make a book required reading and even re-reading for everyone, The Alchemist would be on my list of recommendations shortly after the standard works and the communist manifesto. More specifically, anybody looking for encouragement and even direction on finding the most satisfying route in life should pick up The Alchemist; the writing is simple enough to be understood at a fifth grade level.

Quest book review- Cindy Hurst- The Little Prince- REVISED

2008-10-15T16:11:00.000-07:00

Exupery, Antoine De Saint. The Little Prince New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers, 1971.

An aviator makes a crash landing in the Sahara Desert where he encounters the little prince. At first glance, he is but a child. But upon further inspection, the aviator as the narrator learns a great deal about the little prince and the journey that brought him to earth. He learns about how the prince left his planet after becoming mistrusting of his one and only rose on his tiny little planet. He also learns of the various “strange” grown-ups that the prince met during his travels. Each of them had an attribute that men acquire as they get older: Desire for power, desire to be admired, desire to forget what they are ashamed of rather than fixing the problem, the desire for wealth, the desire to do one’s job well, the desire to discover something new, but overall the desire to be important. While on earth he finds a garden of roses that look and smell exactly like his own and is upset that he had once thought his rose was so important for being so unique. However, he then meets a fox that teaches him “Anything essential is invisible to the eyes. It’s the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important.” The time comes for the little prince to return to his planet. He explains to the aviator that it is ok that he is leaving because when they look at the stars, they will think of each other.

I chose “The Little Prince” as my quest book because it speaks of truths that today’s society has forgotten; that I myself have become victim to forget. It shares the little prince's quest for understanding. I resonate with the truth that he finds. In my own life, I have become very much amazed by the things that are overlooked from being taught in our public school system, that have taken me 20 years to figure out. “Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.” It speaks of friendship, of loyalty, and of the importance of spending time on that which is most important-- with those you care about. I like how it presents this theme in its simplicity; in a child’s book. And yet, its wisdom is best learned from adults who read it. It is easy to get carried away becoming occupied with what society has pushed us towards caring about. The author did a good job of presenting these mundane things that adults tend to care too much about, by giving each characteristic its own character that the little prince visits.

I first read The Little Prince this summer as a counselor at camp to a group of 14-year-old girls each night. Perhaps they were too young to understand how us adults loose track of what is really important because I’m pretty sure I enjoyed reading it to them far more than they enjoyed listening to it. However, I think a younger audience would also be suitable as it is written as a child’s book. It would probably benefit anyone starting to enter the adult world the most however, such as high schoolers that are preparing for college or the work force. It would never be too late to read however. I recommend it to everyone.

The Alchemist (Quest Book Review)

2008-10-11T13:05:00.000-07:00

[Coelho, Paulo; The Alchemist, Harpersanfrancisco, San Francisco, CA, U.S.A., 1993 (foreword, no chapter devisions, 196 pages)]

The Alchemist

The Alchemist is absolutely inspiring, it's motivating; it gives one a renewed sense of hope to believe in your dreams, find your quest, and then follow it.

This novel is an easy read, just under 200 pages, but the message it carries to the heart of the reader is delightfully powerful, enchanting, even transforming. The story, simple yet profound, is about an Andalusian shepherd boy named Santiago who has a dream of finding treasure buried near the pyramids in Egypt. Santiago, so compelled by this beckoning vision in the night, decides to leave his homeland and cross a vast Egyptian desert in search of his treasure. Along his journey, he meets several interesting people encouraging him to pursue his dream, most prominently are an gypsy woman who can see into the future, a mysterious old man claiming to be a king, and an alchemist who can supposedly turn lead into gold.

"To realize one's destiny is a person's only obligation" (from The Alchemist). What begins as a quest to find worldly treasure becomes a quest to discover the treasure within one's self. Santiago's journey, metaphorically resembling each of our own meanderings through life, is marked with omens which remind him that he must continue onward in spite of the never-ending trials and temptations to turn back. At one point, Santiago faces immense hardship when all of his possessions are stolen and he has to work for a whole year just to save enough money to be able to return home. Thankfully, by this point it seems as though the whole universe has conspired to help him achieve his dream, and he is once again compelled to continue on towards Egypt. When Santiago meets his beautiful Fatima, he presumes he has found his treasure, but even the reader is thrown for a loop here because this is not the happy ending, and there is more to the treasure than finding true love. What awaits Santiago in the distance at the pyramids? What if the price to reach his goal is to high?

A friend recommended The Alchemist to me several months ago, and I promised to read it although I had no idea when I'd find the time. Many books have been recommended to me in the past, but this one in particular stood out as my friend has always seemed to be very succesful in everything he does, and he implied to me that this, being his favorite book, had somehow changed his perspective and aided him in his own personal quest. When I'm busy in school I rarely have time to read anything other than my scholastic texts, so I was very delighted to find that The Alchemist was also a perfect fit for my required quest book. In my personal quest I have been struggling to find what I would refer to as the "right" path to be on, but reading The Alchemist has helped me to realize that I already am on the "right" path, the one God has given me. My quest, like Santiago's in the story, is to press forward, never giving up, and endure to the end with faith that the treasure lies in wait.

As a reader, I found this book to be not only an entertaining adventure-filled escape from my own world, but a valuable and truly rich text from which I could harvest seeds of hope, motivation, and love, to plant as waymarks along my own personal quest to fulfil my destiny. As a reader, I felt as though this book had been written specifically for me, like my timing in finding it was impecable to my personal growth, and the contents were just what I needed to digest. Simultaniously, as a reader I also realized that the lessons taught in The Alchemist are universal, and while I could easily see myself strapped in Santiago's well-worn Andelusian sandals, I also could visualize his character encompassing the lives of my little brother, my mother, and my best friend.

As a writer, I love the way Paulo Coelho uses the most simple words and phrases to convey such remarkably deep and thought provoking concepts. He has clearly been given a gift from The Divine as his writing style speaks directly to the heart of man. Coelho's writing reflects that of the writing in the parables; every reader can reap and glean different meanings from the messages foretold, according to the place and time of each reader's own individual maturity in their quest through life. It's no wonder that Coelho is noted as one of the bestselling and most influential writers in the world, and that his work has been translated into over 50 languages. Through observing Coelho's style, I have learned that sometimes less is more. Also, I have had a tendency to prefer to write for myself and not give too much thought as to what other people think, but in reading The Alchemist I have been enlightened to know that the most powerful messages are the ones your audience can relate to, and if you have a gift you should strive to find that median through which you can share your talent to bless the lives of others.

I think the entire human race can relate to the story told in The Alchemist. It is a metaphorical tale of each one of God's children and our own trials, omens, and discoveries on this journey through life. I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to rekindle the essential sustaining humane attributes of faith, hope, love. Pick up a copy and begin reading today. Read it with someone who needs to be uplifted; read it with someone you love.