the best Sunday School teacher

The best Sunday school teacher I ever had was a guy who had rarely come to church. When he got the assignment to teach a class of teenagers he started attending to fulfill the responsibility. His lessons often included a personal story and he was genuine in sharing his feelings. He never openly talked about why he'd quit going to church a long time ago, not that we could have fully understood anyway, but he didn't hide his struggles or gloss over them. He talked about the mission he served in Korea--about all the crazy things other missionaries were doing and how many of them had been sent home because of them. He briefly talked about his divorce.

The most profound story he shared was about scuba diving. He was a scuba diver and very well experienced. He was healthy and athletic and daring. He knew the guidelines for scuba diving were created decades ago when divers still used bell helmets and he knew those guidelines could be pushed with modern equipment. He pretty much disregarded the guidelines until one time he had been far below the surface for a very long time--far beyond the recommended limit. He began to feel ill as he came to the surface too quickly and became violently so when he reached it. He got what is known as "the bends", a decompression sickness. He had to spend a number of days in a pressurized chamber to even be able to stand up straight again. When he finished telling this story, he emphasized how sometimes rules seem too limiting, too out-dated, and too conservative. But they're made to be that way because everyone has different limits and by following the guidelines closely, they can avoid much pain.

I like knowing why rules are there. I need to know where they came from, it’s not about the consequences, but it’s about understanding. I want an explanation for everything, but I need it in terms of real life. I want open honesty, I don't want sugar-coated versions of growing up in the Church, or about life's lessons. I don't know how best to draw the line sometimes--I guess I never really knew the social etiquette as to what is appropriate to talk about with whom and at what times, but then I don't think there should be boundaries at all. What I do know is that I want to be the kind of teacher that he was.

friday night light(ning)s

At the East High varsity game on Friday, they interrupted it twice due to lightning in the distance, one 30 minute delay and one 40 minute delay. I didn't get the lightning on camera, but did get the above pic of the clouds and rain to the south. Longest game ever, but they killed Murray High and it was a nice view.

madeleine

Madeleine L'Engle died on September 6th. I just read about it today. She's most famous for authoring the children's sci-fi series that starts with the book "A Wrinkle in Time."

I remember reading one of the books in her autobiographical series called "A Circle of Quiet" when I lived in Missoula. I took down a passage that resonated with my own feelings about language and expression and life. The passage has many meanings for me and has gained more over time. It inspires me always.

"The more limited our language is, the more limited we are; the more limited the literature we give to our children, the more limited their capacity to respond, and therefore, in their turn, to create. The more our vocabulary is controlled, the less we will be able to think for ourselves….If we limit and distort language, we limit and distort personality."

when we find the perfect water

When we find the perfect water
We'll hang out on the shore
Just long enough to leave our clothes there
--Modest Mouse "Fire it Up"

The HB and I went to see Modest Mouse for our second time together on Monday night. I'm in love with everything Isaac Brock writes. As an archaeology undergrad I especially appreciate that there's a song called "australopithecus" and I'm crazy about the song "parting of the sensory" about carbon dating on their new album.

As for our perfect water, the HB and I are still looking for it. I can't figure out if I'm the one whose been ready to get naked and jump in and he just can't give me everything or if I'm the one afraid to jump in. I feel like I'm giving everything I can, but honestly there wasn't much for me to leave behind. I want us to be as close as possible. For the HB I'll say I think he is accustomed to being surrounded by people who love and adore him, so I'm not as much of an integral player as I'd like to be. And it's hard not to be jealous that life seems so easy for him, and to not be angry that I've worked so hard for years to establish my identity and get over my past only to have to do it all over again post-marriage.

There are so many things that I wanted, so many that I still want, and some that I gave up wanting. But I want my husband and I love him terribly.

So here are some more Modest Mouse words I would give to the HB:

It was not the intention
But we let it all go
Well it messed up the function
And sure fucked up the flow
I hardly have people that I needed to know
'Cause you're the people that I wanted to know
All this scrambling around
Hunting high and then low
Looking for the face love
Or somewhere to go
I hardly have places that I need to go
'Cause you're the places that I wanted to go
Yeah you're the places that we wanted to go
Yeah you're the places that we wanted to go

namesakes, faith, and identity

Recently a collection of letters written by Mother Teresa were published. The letters revealed some of her struggles with faith. Some writers have expressed shock, others, comfort to know that she was human too. She’s always been a kind of hero of mine and now she has even more depth than the depth of her caring—she has more character. No person is one-dimensional, you cannot be only one thing. And because of that I think everyone struggles with faith. I liked what one writer had to say:

"I think there is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe," wrote Flannery O'Connor, the Roman Catholic author whose stories traverse the landscape of 20th-century unbelief. "What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe."

It reminds me of the book turned movie "The Namesake." It follows the life of a boy whose parents immigrated from India. He grows up in a primarily American lifestyle, but is confused by his Indian heritage. For a time he wants to ignore it altogether, and then after a traumatic event, he embraces it completely. He marries an Indian girl and attempts to live the traditional life expected of him when. But this doesn't work either, he discovers her infidelity and they part, leaving him doubting his identity and his decisions. Again, his world is shattered. Here he had tried to do everything right, and now it all comes back in his face. He has to face the fact that he has to come up with his own identity—his own adaptation of what works—what lets him be himself without denying his heritage and with self-respect. How he can reconcile the values of his heritage while finding a path that allows him to be honest with himself, not trying to be something he's not.

I loved it because as an audience you want resolution, you want him to be one thing or the other, but real life is never like that. Real life is coming to a reconciliation of your upbringing and your own way of life. All or nothing is never a viable option, and if you try to force it, you end up devastated at one point or another.

I struggle with this all of the time as a Mormon. I don’t agree with the way my parents enforced religion growing up. I believe God doesn’t want to force us to be good but to make our own choices, to have the freedom to do so. I believe it’s more important to be loving and warm than to strictly adhere to a code of conduct; it’s more important to treat others well than to have perfect church attendance, or daily scripture study. I would say that religion has often been a "cross" for me rather than an electric blanket, but it means much more to me as a cross than a blanket--it forces me to identify why I choose it and why I follow it. There have been times where I tried adamantly to do everything by the book, but I felt less human, less alive, and my friendships seemed hollow. I was denying part of myself, part of my need to express and not filter. I now prize the questioning I've done and am doing to continue to do to meld my religion with what I personally value. The goal is to live in absolute integrity, to never have to wonder where to draw the line, because I've made the lines consistent with what I believe is right. And by being so honest with myself, I can be fulfilled in my life and my relationships.

the dopest site

In reward for attending 3 football games this last week I got the HB to go with me on a one-night backpacking trip for the holiday. We went to the Clyde Lake area of the Uintahs--Clyde Lake gets the honor for a 5 mile loop trail that passes by 15 different lakes. Anyway, we got there in the late afternoon and hiked about 3 miles in before it started to rain and would soon be dark. We popped our tent up in the dopest site on a little land bridge between two smaller lakes. It was beautiful, no other campers nearby, and just perfect. It was cold, but I loved that it rained because it gave the HB a reason to cuddle with me early.
We made our dinner quick and then crawled into the tent to wait it out. When it stopped raining we built the fire up again and talked for a long time before getting back in the tent for some sleep. I feel like we've hardly been home, but I really needed the trip and it was totally worth it.

hatchlings

The HB left me all alone tonight to answer Caiden's hard questions. I was still tucking him in when he said he felt like something was missing. It went like this:

"what's missing?"
"i don't know i just feel like one of my animals is missing or something."
"okay, here's your teddy bear" [picking him up] "here's your dog, your lion, and your tiny teddy"
"oh, that's what it was, the tiny teddy...why do call it a tiny teddy?"
"because he's tiny, have you ever seen a bear that tiny? even babies aren't that tiny"
"yeah they are. they are when they're in the mommy's tummy...Are babies just hatched from an egg and then born from their mommies?"
"yeah they are"
"how big are they in the egg?"
"they're just a speck"
"how big is the egg, two specks?"
"yeah" "but then they take 9 months to grow to baby size inside the mommy."
"nuh uh, it's already been 2 years" [indicating me]
"well, i'm not growing a baby yet"
"oh, when are you going to grow one?"
"i'll tell you when we decide"
"how do you know when you're growing one?"
"when you get fat. now go to sleep."

Hopefully, none of this information was a surprise for anyone reading.

interception

I'm sure the HB will have more to say about this weeks' games, but I'm going to intercept him with these pics from the BYU game today--showing what hard-core fans we are, even down to our shoes!

Caiden played with his aunts and cousins, so he's ready for bed in the pic. It was a long day, and a long week of games, but it was good to finish off with a great win for BYU.
The first time I ever went to a football game in my life was my senior year at BYU. My roommates and I got All Sports Passes with a bunch of people in our ward and I went along for the fun. I didn't know anything about it (girls only learn sports their dads or brothers are into, and eventually, their boyfriends) but I painted my face and stood in the crowd, and really had a good time. Except the first part of the year there was this kind of weird guy in the ward who had the hots for me that would try to sit by me, but that faded. Anyway, I think I could call myself pretty hard-core now, and I love it, even though I still need a lot of referee calls explained to me.