What's The Difference?

During our math class, we learned the following principle:

          “A number called a Subtrahend can be taken away from another number called a Minuend, and the answer is called the Difference.”

 

Your typical subtraction problem, right.

Well, during a recent conversation, I began to notice a “difference” between my feelings for one relationship and my feelings for another relationship.  Let me try to explain.  I have what some may consider to be pretty high standards.  Evidently there are a lot of people out there who do not share or have as high of standards as I do.  And that’s fine.  To each his own, right.  For the most part, my attitude toward others is indifferent and may come across as self-righteous (I hope not, but I am aware that there is that possibility).  Basically for those who share my standards, I connect with easily, and those who do not, I really don’t interact with or even care to. 

So here I am visiting with this friend that I haven’t talked with in over 20 years (and I probably never would have come in contact again if it hadn’t been for facebook).  And I’m realizing that their life choices, well, really hasn’t changed that much since high school.  Drinking, smoking, swearing, rock music, video games, not really caring about education, jobs, or even national affairs, not really religious in nature, and not necessarily principled driven.  We are probably what you’d consider complete opposites.   And as the conversation continued, I could feel myself repulse with each disclosure that was contrary to comfort zone. 

…But only for a brief moment.  I could sense my discomfort, but then it immediately dissolved into acceptance, generosity, and even great admiration for this individual.  I still really liked this friend and so it didn’t matter at all that their standards and life choices were opposite to my own.  Granted, I really do believe that higher standards, nobler ambitions, and a purpose driven life is the only way to obtain true happiness – and I invite them to consider the benefits of… well…. making life more challenging (now isn’t that inviting).  But my friendship is still secure even if they don’t. 

So as I’m pondering why I felt this way in regard to this friend, and normally feel indifferent toward other individuals of the same caliber, I was curious ‘What is the difference’?  What is the Subtrahend that is deducted from normal associates that isn’t deducted from my friends?

I guess it doesn’t take a genius to discover that ‘love’ is the missing ingredient or the subtrahend.  When ‘love’ is taken out of the equation, there is a difference – indifference, or sometimes even judgment.  It’s made me consider that maybe I’m filled with way more judgment than I thought and much less charity than I had hoped.  

                                  ‘Relationship’ take away ‘love’ equals ‘judgment’. 

Which brought me to the next thought.  Since Heavenly Father is filled with charity, maybe this is how He feels toward all his children.  He is incapable of not loving us, He's our spiritual daddy.  In fact his love is so great that he has dedicated his entire work to helping us be successful and happy.  But when he sees us make wrong choices, or pretend he doesn’t exist, or live way below our potential and privilege – all his disappointment, hurt, and discomfort vanish away because ‘love’ is still part of His equation.  He loves us completely.  He loves us regardless.  He loves us unconditionally.  And yes, He too is hoping that we will choose the more challenging life by keeping his commandments – but only because he knows that will bring us happiness, eternal happiness. He knows we'll be dead a lot longer than we are alive.  He loves us enough to want us to be happy. 

So now I want to change all my subtraction problems (all those strange people I look at in question at Walmart, all those morons who call in on talk radio, all those co-workers who live only for the weekend) to addition problems that includes genuine brotherly ‘love’ in the equation.

 

FEELING LOOPY

I’ve always associated circles and cycles as a positive, unifying, and progressive thing.

*The circulation system pumps life-preserving blood throughout the body and back to the heart to repeat all over again.

*A seed grows into a plant, creating new seeds which perpetuate the cycle. 

*The wheels on the bus (ha ha) go round and round to reach a new destination.

*The earth revolves around the life-sustaining sun, as well as rotates on its axis to create life-protecting gravity.  

*Even the Heavens have no beginning and no end – One eternal round.

And so the completing and repeating process of circles gives a sense of rebirth, continuation, and preservation. (Oh my, that sounds almost poetic)

 

However, lately, I’ve been noticing the negative aspects of being circular.  Spinning our wheels makes very little progress.

Waiting in a holding pattern (circling above the airport before permission is granted to land) keeps us from reaching the destination that is so close. 

Historical cycles can be very discouraging as we enter the downward curve rather than the upward recovery.  And the pride cycle, seen both as a nation as well as individually, is definitely a negative loop.   

I found it interesting the experiment a scientist did to prove the theory of our circular tendencies.  He took several groups of people, tagged them with a GPS, and then placed them in different surroundings (desert, forest, etc.) to see how they fare at reaching their desired destination.  He discovered that those who had a clear landmark or sunny days, walked in a straight line to their objective.  However, when the sky was cloudy and there were no visible landmarks, they inevitable walked in circles, sometimes walking on the very same path they had trod before without even realizing it. 

I don’t know if it has something to do with the circadian rhythm of the earth or if there is another natural law that causes this circular motion, but it becomes obvious that without direction or purpose, progress is impossible.

I’ve heard it said that a fool can be described as one who does the same thing but expects a different result. 

Meaningless repetitions.  Pointless habits.  Going around the issue rather than addressing it head on.  And I have had my share of ineffective and varied circles throughout my life. 

I’ve taken tangents away from my goal and end up doing a loop-de-loop, curlicues, coils, or slinky spirals.  Hopefully, eventually I find my way back to the original course. 

Sometimes I’ve pursued a goal – such as wealth, fun, popularity, even opportunity – and found I was twirling in the wind like a pinwheel (all for show - giving up what I want most, for what I want at the moment), rather than making true personal progress. 

Sometimes I am indecisive and am stuck in a roundabout – unsure which road to take to reach my goals. 

Sometimes I just don’t pay attention to the landmarks or the orientation of the light in my life and walk in circles – aimlessly wandering until I wake up enough to recognize my whereabouts. 

Sometimes I sabotage my own success through my own limiting beliefs, fear, doubt, etc. – repeating patterns of preventing circles (spinning wheel) rather than a progressing circle (spinning wheel with traction). 

All these radial events indicate that we’re loopy one way or another.  Either progressing, growing, and continuing - or waiting, preventing, and losing ground. 

Which circle are you in today?

A Different type of Basic Training

Reveille (music):  It's Time to Get Up, It's Time to Get Up, It's Time to Get Up in the Morning. 

"Get your laziness out of bed right now, I want to see you upstairs in formation, standing at attention in two seconds.  Move it, move it, move it, move it."

That's the way I got my kids out of bed.  We had decided that our first item of business for our summer school would be to refocus and master the basics in our home stewardships before we could move forward with disciplining our minds on academics.  I'd just spent a month dejunking, and almost filled a room with all the shtuff I was getting rid of, but the house was still in a constant chaotic state.  We needed retraining and changed habits. 

So Aristotle and I discussed how to try and make it a fun and effective training.  We decided on both a boot camp style theme along with payment for their successes.   I gave each child a camo t-shirt and proceeded to get into character of drill sergeant.   If there was any back talk, negligence, or disrespect, the entire patrol would have to do KK's (what we affectionately call kiester kickers).  I also gave them each $15.00 - in dimes - to be received at the end of the month.  Each time they failed to fulfill their assigned stewardship, they would lose a dime and if someone had to do someone else's unfinished chore, they would earn their dime. 

I moved forward with this plan - hoping it would be the inspiration my children needed to take charge of their life. And we adjusted to this new routine fairly quickly.  At least I thought. 

Pretty soon I was hearing comments about how my kids didn't like me yelling at them.  It just didn't seem like me.  (Not that I'm successful at not yelling at my kids, but there is usually something upsetting me when I yell).  One morning, I wasn't able to wake them with reveille and yelling, and I got so many comments of how much they liked this better.  At first I just shrugged it off as humorous aspects of the training.  But as I thought about it, it began to weigh heavy on my mind. 

What was it about this approach that was so unsettling to my children?  Isn't that what drill sergeants and even athletic coaches require of their trainees to discipline them for the task at hand?  Is this a bad way?  Is there a better way? 

I was considering these questions as I went to the temple.  While there, I was considering how the Lord would want me to train my children, and how he trains his children.  Can you image our loving and eternally wise Heavenly Father screaming at his children to conform to his requirements in drill sergeant style.  The idea was absurd.  Heavenly Father simply lays out what is required (in a calm and assuring voice), and then enforces the consequences for whichever choice we make (in a loving but firm manner).  It's made me rethink all the military training, sport coaches, etc. may be more after the style of Lucifer's approach - make them do what I want them do through force, through intimidation, through breaking their spirits, etc. 

So surely there is a proper way of helping a child go beyond their ZPD (zone of proximal development - the area of what one can't do by themselves but can do with help).  Obviously there are some growth experiences that require an outside push because we wouldn't go there if left to our own devices.  Even Heavenly Father allows trials to teach us things that we wouldn't have learned in any other way. 

I've concluded that this may be more of a training of me, more than a training of my children.  Training me to be patient while they may or may not choose to do what is required.  Training me to be more firm and consistent in applying consequences (lost money, lost opportunities, lost peace, etc.) in a loving and, again, patient manner.  Training me to trust the changing of a person's heart and habits to the one who actually has power to change them.  That's not within my power (my only power is choice). 

It would be easier to scream and force others to do my will, and sometimes it would be nice to have someone do that to me so I'm not so accountable, but that's not the plan I signed up for.  So I submit to a different type of basic training. 

Courage Beyond My Own

Friends have always been pretty important to me and they came into my life pretty easily. So as I look at my children's friends status, I struggle to relate how they can perservere without friends.   

I remember Wilberforce, while growing up, thought she had a pretty good friend, only to find out her 'friend' was only a fair-weathered-friend and wouldn't associate with her in the company of certain other people.  I could see the pain as the realization of the betrayal hit home. 

I remember Shakespeare had a natural affinity toward friends outside the family and longed to be loved and cherished by others.  But one relationship after another ended only in tolerance - no connection, no bosum friend, sometimes even no civility.  I've watched her over the years sink further and further into her shell to protect her from the hurt she was experiencing. 

And then the other night Austen came home from Young Women's feeling for the first time in the last 5 years that she might be connecting a little with the Hamer girls.  She was happy, bubbly, and felt victorious.  Then the next day, as she was supposed to be picked up by these 'finally' friends - she watched them drive by our house to pick up another girl, then drive by again, but they never stopped.  They had forgotten about her.......again.  I could see the hope and happiness fade away as she realized her previous thoughts were misguided.  When she came and asked me to drive her to the activity that they were supposed to have picked her up for, I was taken a little aback by her courage.  She promised she would be at this activity, and so she was going to keep her word, even if her heart was breaking. 

Another disadvantage my children experience in the social world, is our location and life choices.  We've chosen to homeschool - so they don't get to see "friends" everyday at school.  We've chosen to live way out in the country - so they don't have neighbor friends either.  And we are limited as to how many times we can make trips into town - so once a week is all they get and it's a very busy day.  Yes, there are some serious social drawbacks to the life we've chosen. 

However, Wilberforce has become an eternal optimist.  She can always see the silver lining in every storm cloud.  She never joined the cliques and is equally friendly with the popular kids as well as the invisible people she encounters.  Shakespeare is everyday healing, pulling strength from way down deep to face her pain and overcome the obstacles that life has presented to her.  She is patiently waiting for the day and exercising faith that she will someday meet and enjoy a bosum friend.  Austen continually faces disappointment with courage and facing the heartbreak with hope and determination.  She believes everyone wants to be friends with her and moves forward with that belief. 

I'm sure when I experienced heartache growing up, that I eventually rolled up my sleeves and moved on with my life, but I can't help but feel that these amazing children with advanced trials and obvious strengths possess courage beyond my own. 
      

I'm Too Flexible

I wish I were talking about my physical ability to stretch my body into amazing unduplicatable forms - but... I'm not. 

I'm refering to my laxity with life.  It seems where ever I go, the idea of being more flexible is being promoted.  More flexible with our spouses, more flexible with our expectations, more flexible with our schedules and agendas.  And so in that respect I'm grateful that I am predominantly easy going and don't easily get my feathers ruffled.  

I wasn't always this way.  In fact, I believe it has been an incredibly challenging road to get to this point.  I used to be quite tense when I was late to an event, or the house was messy and the doorbell rang, or even when someone wanted to spontaneously go do something that hadn't been planned out weeks in advance (actually, I still struggle with this one at times, but not always).  I used to get quite flustered when there wasn't enough money to stretch for all the needs, or equipment would break down (as if there is a convenient time), or not everything got a checkmark on my to-do list.  I've come a long way. 

Through a series of undesirable events, I've learned to be flexible.  Hope for the best but roll with the punches if something else happens instead.  It's amazing what going without food, without money, without control, without time, or without energy can do to change a person. You think you might not emotionally make it, but somehow or other you survive and then the next time a trial comes along - it's not so traumatic as it was the first time.  The result = flexibility, laxity, easy going, even calmness in the storm.  Yes, I can see how this is a very good thing. 

However, as all things need moderation, I feel I may have taken my relaxed coping skills a little too far to the other end of the spectrum. 

My house and yard are a constant reminder that I no longer care how it looks to the neighbors - I'm not keeping up false appearances.  I'm doing the best I can and that's just gonna have to be good enough, right. 

My children are also a consistent reminder that I've gotten too lax with my parental training, as they demonstrate that obedience to mom is optional. 

Even my character is called into question as I willingly take on responsibilities and then casually carry them out - or if it doesn't happen, that's ok too. 

These effects of a life being beaten by the hardships don't really bring me happiness either. 

There must be a happy medium - a way to find the balance between self-respect and calmness for trivial concerns.  To care enough to make things happen but not so much that I'm bound up tighter than I can handle.  Its challenging to begin picking up the pieces where you have already surrendered.  To attempt to take charge, to fight, to be fiery where your spirit has been broken, and you've become submissive and accepting.   

For a long time, my husband has been  associated with Mr. Incredible.  I'm not sure exactly how this began.  Maybe it's his super suit rising above his belly as he stretches.  Maybe it is his stocky build and amazing strength.  Or maybe it is because he is a super who is living his secret identity, waiting for the opportunity to relive the glory days of his pre-existent greatness.  I don't really know, but I find it ironic that Mr. Incredible is married to Elastigirl. 

Maybe flexibility has to be linked with incredibleness.  I know in my life its absolutely essential.  I don't believe our marriage would have lasted if I didn't learn to just let some things go. But now I'm learning to be very careful with what I surrender.  My pride, my will, my selfish power struggles - yes.  My self-respect, my character, my stewardship - a great big NO.

This reminds me of the message from Thomas Jefferson. To paraphrase:
                                            In matters of principle, be as a rock. 
                                            But in matters of style, just go with the flow. 

'The Quilt Maker's Gift"

I don’t know what it is about quilting story books that catch my eye, but I knew when I saw ‘The Quilt Makers Gift’ on the library shelf that it would be a quality read.  I think I got even more than I bargained for.  This charming story whose pages are filled with color, patterns, and lovely illustrations, which tell a story in addition to the written text, is captivating to the eye as well as the heart.  I began reading to my daughter as she snuggled me on the couch.  Soon, my son climbs up on my lap also.  Before I got to the fifth page, all six of my children were crouched around me, intently listening and studying the pictures.  

                The premise of the story is about an older woman who lives alone in the mountains, making beautiful quilts to give to those who are less fortunate.  She is so devoted to her purpose that she refuses to sell or make quilts for anyone who could afford to pay for it.  As soon as she finished a quilt, she would carry it around from town to town until she found someone who was homeless or chilled in the night air.  She would gently wrap the quilt around them and then return to the mountain to make another one.  The news of her quilt’s quality had reached a very powerful and greedy king who insisted on having one made for him.  As she refused, the king became more insistent on getting his way.  He felt that her quilt would be able to finally make him happy.  After some consideration, she said that she would make him a quilt if he would give away all that he owned.  It took the king some time to agree but eventually he gave away a few items.  As the recipients were thrilled with their gifts, he began to enjoy giving others pleasure.  For years, he traveled the world, giving away everything he had to those in need.  Eventually, he had nothing left to give and he was truly poor and needy himself.  It was then that the quilt maker gave him the promised quilt.  He then refused to acknowledge that he was poor, even though he owned nothing.  With his heart full to bursting with joy in giving, he received all the riches he could ever want. 

Of course, this summary loses a lot of the charm in the translation, but I was impressed with integrity of the quilt maker.  She had clearly defined her purpose - she knew what gave her joy.  She was not distracted by riches, or authority, or any other possible fake pursuits of happiness.  She knew she had a service to render to the world and consistently, patiently fulfilled her work.  I want to be so dedicated and non-distractable in what truely matters in my own life.  

Inspiration Lost

It’s gone.  I’ve lost my inspiration.  For awhile, it seemed that everywhere I turned, I had power thoughts, and couldn’t wait to make time in my busy little life to write about it.  Now the thoughts don’t seem as powerful and certainly not enough to write a paper.  I guess there are a number of possible reasons for this drought. 

1)      I’ve shifted gears in my routine.  With the ineffective spring break and the upset of the Shakespeare production, I put homeschool, home maintenance, and even being at the crossroads for my children on hold, so that I could turn the house upside down and rearrange, dejunk, and organize some much neglected rooms and systems.  You’d think with such dedicated focus that I’d have been more successful than I have been and could get back to a regular routine.  Alas, I’m going to have to put the dream of order on the back burner…. again because my undirected and neglected children are requiring their mother back.

2)      My energy has been drained.  For the past year, I’ve been taking the wrong dosage of thyroid.  And with the interim between the blood work and the adjusted dosage, I’ve been tired…a lot.  It may be psychological because just knowing my dosage was not enough, I suddenly felt the fatigue and drainage of energy.  I’m napping for a couple hours every single day.  Not a good combination for creation.

3)      I attended a ‘How to Mentor’ class on writing power papers.  It was both inspiring and discouraging.  I haven’t put my finger on why it was discouraging other than the amount of work that is involved in the writing/revising/editing process.  There’s no question that the pains of the process produce much better quality work, but the amount of time and energy necessary put a damper on my enthusiasm for writing. 

4)      And probably the biggest reason for my discouragement is the loss of a friend.  I’d recently been in conversations with an old friend.  Several, actually, through facebook.  It was rejuvenating to my soul and I longed to come alive again like I had been in my teen years.  But for some reason, the communications just stopped after a particularly vulnerable disclosure.  I can only assume that they weren’t impressed with what I’ve become and chose to not associate any further.  I feel dejected, hurt, and saddened that our relationship has no depth.  My continual frustration of ‘not being any fun’ has created another war wound.  I know I will rally again, but it cut a little deeper than I had hoped. 

Even with all these reasons for not writing power papers, I have longed to just write - like a journal.  I know the purpose of this blog is to inspire my children to write, but I want to be selfish and write my personal thoughts.  I haven’t decided if I will attempt another personal blog or just continue to work with this one.  I’m hoping with time, patience, and writing practice, I’ll again feel inspired to write something worth reading.