Mug Muffin
5 years ago
Friday, June 21, 2013
Published!
http://www.mormontabernaclechoir.org/articles/day-8-minneapolis?lang=eng
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
0.0.0.0
The blogosphere has gotten a little preachy lately. I had to back out. Some things have been dead on, some not so much, but it didn't matter. I got tired of reading things and having to analyze whether or not I agree, whether or not someone was spouting gospel truth, personal truth, or some narcissistic brand of truth designed to make them look special.
Meh. Whatever. I'm not going to embrace the irony and preach. This is just me.
I sort of love Big Bang Theory. Sheldon points out that his "spot" on the couch is his 0.0.0.0. His axis. His central point for time and all dimensions of space. Its probably true that its his 0.0.0, its the fourth 0, the time factor, that makes it particularly funny. At least to me. But beyond that, I am having to learn that wherever I am right NOW needs to be my 0.0.0.0. He says that point is what gives him meaning and defines all other points of his life. I know from basic geometry that with two or more points plotted, I can use the coordinates to find the axis as well. You can navigate from the north star, or you can use other stars to find the north star.
I'm rambling. I do that. It's ok. Consider that another 0 on the 0.0.0.0 of me.
What I'm trying to say is: This is me. Right now.
I'm angry at people. The world has some terrible, awful people in it and Hell is real for a reason. And there is a certain brand of selfishness that will land them there more surely than I can describe to you. I've spent my life surrounded by really good people, and maybe it's skewed my perspective a little. Because sometimes, by comparing myself to the great people around me, I can judge myself into Hell for things like the occasional swear and the fact that I failed microbiology my freshman year of college. It's just as dangerous to sit and compare myself to addicts and dealers with unspeakable pasts who have committed atrocities against their own children. I can't compare my 0.0.0.0 to theirs, I can't know where they are coming from or where they are heading any more than they can know me. But I can be angry. I can be angry about where their 0.0.0.0 is right now, and I can be angry at myself for my own actions, and as long as I manage the anger and express it appropriately, it's not a problem. So there. I'm angry. And that's OK.
I have an incredible roommate who lets me collapse on her bed while she is faithfully trying to work and listens to me scream and rant and cry at the world. Do you know how awesome that is? It's also awesome that she accepts this as part of my now, and knows that its not part of my eternity. I have another friend who has been where I am and ever so patiently talks me down from my rants. Time and time again. Reminding me of the important things, reminding me of what I am doing right and what I am doing wrong. Pointing out the gross bits of me with just the love and encouragement I need to face them, pointing out the nice bits of me with just the gentleness that let's me see them without denying them or passing them off as flukes. Sometimes, I get encouraging texts from people that mean the world to me. I get them when I am in a lousy place, and I don't respond, maybe because I am rotten at social interaction, rotten at texting, or just plain lazy. Or maybe I'm just too emotionally exhausted and confused to do anything more than be silently grateful for the encouragement. Maybe the encouragement gave me the energy to face what I am facing in that moment, and that Olympian task took all that was left. But I really am glad for the support. Please don't give up on me.
I'm leaving on tour tomorrow. 2 weeks of singing bliss. Sure, my feet will hurt and my voice will feel worn and I'll pay the physical price for what is really not a vacation. But I've been at his internship for only 6 weeks, and I have to last a full year. And I already need time away. The choir is self-care. The choir is where I surround myself with the people whose 0.0.0.0 more closely resembles my own. It's not about comparing, it's about speaking the same language. I can't wait. I'm already there in my mind and heart. I've run away and I'm still not sure how I will manage the return.
I spent 3 hours in paradise on Sunday. After broadcast I met up with an amazing and precious family from France. It's been 14 years, and we sat and talked (in French) for hours on temple square. We laughed, we connected, we remembered, and everything was just as it should be. Mostly. I wished Lucie and Paul could have been there. But the real thing is, there are some (very few) people in this world that you connect with in such a way that time and distance makes such a little difference. It's marvelously perfectly the same whether you are baking blueberry pie in a kitchen in France or enjoying bread and cheese on a bench at temple square. There was a particularly remarkable moment when we remembered our beloved Ben Titera, and he made us laugh even though its been two years since his passing. Well of course he would. He wouldn't have it any other way. There is something emotionally tasty about being sad and happy at the same time. It's like the dark chocolate of feelings. We taste the bitter that we may know to prize the sweet.
I know some really awful people (no, seriously. My guess is most of you who may read this have only seen this kind of person in movies or on TV shows. As the bad guys.) and those awful people are on good paths. I think they are. I hope they are. I know some of them are not, and I couldn't tell you which ones are on the good path and which are on the bad. In fact, there is also a probability that not a single one of them is on a good path. But I am learning to stop using probabilities to calculate hope. Probability is a function of expectation, but hope has to stand independent of probability and expectation. So I hope that they are on paths that lead them to a different 0.0.0.0. Then again, I know some really good people who are on scary paths. People that I have loved and believed we were in the same space heading the same direction at similar velocities, and then they say something that indicates they are headed somewhere else entirely. All probability says they are on a good path, and yet they say and do things that indicate otherwise. Probability is useless when you are talking about individuals and their lives. I don't know if they changed directions or if I misjudged their trajectory. But it doesn't matter. if people can change directions once, they can do it again right? I hope so. I am no longer choosing to believe that people are basically good. I am choosing to believe that they are good and bad and mostly very confused. I am choosing to believe that people can change directions.
Angry, sad, bitter, sweet. Paradise, Hell, angels and demons. It's all there, it can all be found from where I am right now.
This is me. Take it or leave it, but don't waste any efforts judging. This is my 0.0.0.0. Find your own 0.0.0.0
Meh. Whatever. I'm not going to embrace the irony and preach. This is just me.
I sort of love Big Bang Theory. Sheldon points out that his "spot" on the couch is his 0.0.0.0. His axis. His central point for time and all dimensions of space. Its probably true that its his 0.0.0, its the fourth 0, the time factor, that makes it particularly funny. At least to me. But beyond that, I am having to learn that wherever I am right NOW needs to be my 0.0.0.0. He says that point is what gives him meaning and defines all other points of his life. I know from basic geometry that with two or more points plotted, I can use the coordinates to find the axis as well. You can navigate from the north star, or you can use other stars to find the north star.
I'm rambling. I do that. It's ok. Consider that another 0 on the 0.0.0.0 of me.
What I'm trying to say is: This is me. Right now.
I'm angry at people. The world has some terrible, awful people in it and Hell is real for a reason. And there is a certain brand of selfishness that will land them there more surely than I can describe to you. I've spent my life surrounded by really good people, and maybe it's skewed my perspective a little. Because sometimes, by comparing myself to the great people around me, I can judge myself into Hell for things like the occasional swear and the fact that I failed microbiology my freshman year of college. It's just as dangerous to sit and compare myself to addicts and dealers with unspeakable pasts who have committed atrocities against their own children. I can't compare my 0.0.0.0 to theirs, I can't know where they are coming from or where they are heading any more than they can know me. But I can be angry. I can be angry about where their 0.0.0.0 is right now, and I can be angry at myself for my own actions, and as long as I manage the anger and express it appropriately, it's not a problem. So there. I'm angry. And that's OK.
I have an incredible roommate who lets me collapse on her bed while she is faithfully trying to work and listens to me scream and rant and cry at the world. Do you know how awesome that is? It's also awesome that she accepts this as part of my now, and knows that its not part of my eternity. I have another friend who has been where I am and ever so patiently talks me down from my rants. Time and time again. Reminding me of the important things, reminding me of what I am doing right and what I am doing wrong. Pointing out the gross bits of me with just the love and encouragement I need to face them, pointing out the nice bits of me with just the gentleness that let's me see them without denying them or passing them off as flukes. Sometimes, I get encouraging texts from people that mean the world to me. I get them when I am in a lousy place, and I don't respond, maybe because I am rotten at social interaction, rotten at texting, or just plain lazy. Or maybe I'm just too emotionally exhausted and confused to do anything more than be silently grateful for the encouragement. Maybe the encouragement gave me the energy to face what I am facing in that moment, and that Olympian task took all that was left. But I really am glad for the support. Please don't give up on me.
I'm leaving on tour tomorrow. 2 weeks of singing bliss. Sure, my feet will hurt and my voice will feel worn and I'll pay the physical price for what is really not a vacation. But I've been at his internship for only 6 weeks, and I have to last a full year. And I already need time away. The choir is self-care. The choir is where I surround myself with the people whose 0.0.0.0 more closely resembles my own. It's not about comparing, it's about speaking the same language. I can't wait. I'm already there in my mind and heart. I've run away and I'm still not sure how I will manage the return.
I spent 3 hours in paradise on Sunday. After broadcast I met up with an amazing and precious family from France. It's been 14 years, and we sat and talked (in French) for hours on temple square. We laughed, we connected, we remembered, and everything was just as it should be. Mostly. I wished Lucie and Paul could have been there. But the real thing is, there are some (very few) people in this world that you connect with in such a way that time and distance makes such a little difference. It's marvelously perfectly the same whether you are baking blueberry pie in a kitchen in France or enjoying bread and cheese on a bench at temple square. There was a particularly remarkable moment when we remembered our beloved Ben Titera, and he made us laugh even though its been two years since his passing. Well of course he would. He wouldn't have it any other way. There is something emotionally tasty about being sad and happy at the same time. It's like the dark chocolate of feelings. We taste the bitter that we may know to prize the sweet.
I know some really awful people (no, seriously. My guess is most of you who may read this have only seen this kind of person in movies or on TV shows. As the bad guys.) and those awful people are on good paths. I think they are. I hope they are. I know some of them are not, and I couldn't tell you which ones are on the good path and which are on the bad. In fact, there is also a probability that not a single one of them is on a good path. But I am learning to stop using probabilities to calculate hope. Probability is a function of expectation, but hope has to stand independent of probability and expectation. So I hope that they are on paths that lead them to a different 0.0.0.0. Then again, I know some really good people who are on scary paths. People that I have loved and believed we were in the same space heading the same direction at similar velocities, and then they say something that indicates they are headed somewhere else entirely. All probability says they are on a good path, and yet they say and do things that indicate otherwise. Probability is useless when you are talking about individuals and their lives. I don't know if they changed directions or if I misjudged their trajectory. But it doesn't matter. if people can change directions once, they can do it again right? I hope so. I am no longer choosing to believe that people are basically good. I am choosing to believe that they are good and bad and mostly very confused. I am choosing to believe that people can change directions.
Angry, sad, bitter, sweet. Paradise, Hell, angels and demons. It's all there, it can all be found from where I am right now.
This is me. Take it or leave it, but don't waste any efforts judging. This is my 0.0.0.0. Find your own 0.0.0.0
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