People buy blood. Its true. Okay, not totally true. They only buy part of the blood. The plasma part. But they still buy it.
I walked through Provo Old Town today. It is beautiful. The thing that made it beautiful was the landscaping. All the trees and shrubs and grass. Beautiful. As I walked, it occurred to me that if you were to remove all the industrialized, man-made crap from off the world, there would be nothing left but perfect nature. Those who know me best might say that I am being a bit wishy-washy. They might say, "But Dan, you love living in the city." And they would be correct. But I don't love the city for the pavement and the buildings. I love the city for the people. And if we were to do away with the cities, I would still be able to surround myself with a small group of people and thus, be happy. Why am I saying this? I don't really know. I suppose because I was struck by how pleasant and wonderful the world is. Perhaps I am frustrated with being forced to work inside the social structure of industrialization. Whatever it is, God has created quite a stunning piece of art in this world.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Its like a colloid...Two things in one
Conversation is an interesting phenomenon. It only really has two manifestations. There are conversations that fill time. These can be either exciting, or less than exciting. And then there are the conversations that stimulate thought. While the former is more common, (overwhelmingly so) the latter is of far greater value. Now, I am not saying that there is no place in this world for trivial conversation. Quite contrary to that, I believe that trivial conversation is a vital part of the glue that holds society together, and simultaneously it is the grease that keeps the world running smoothly. Without these meaningless exchanges, it would be much harder to foster good feeling and interactions between strangers would become a burden to be avoided at all costs. So, I believe that trivial uses of the English language are an important part of cultural and societal communication.
But there is another form of communication. That form which originates in thought and conveys between individuals ideas and beliefs of import. This brand of conversation has a purpose wholly different, and equally as important as the more trivial form. While the lighter conversations serve dually as glue and grease, the deeper, heavier verbal exchanges serve as an individual stimulus to growth. These conversations originate in the deeper thinking parts of the psyche and penetrate the shallow shell of the social mind to whatever part of the brain contains the individual. More often than not, these intellectual or spiritual conversations require the mind to engage in effort, just to understand the ideas, and cause the engaged mind to reflect inwardly about itself.
I have had three of these conversations in the last two days, and can honestly say that I feel better about myself as a person because of them. I had the rare, and coveted opportunity to spend an hour with my friend Susanna. While I wouldn't say we plumbed the depths of philosophical post-modernism, I wouldn't say we wasted our words. Of course, some of the time we indulged in the enjoyment of the trivial, but we also made the effort to talk about things that mattered. Our time was short, and after she had to leave, I chose to visit the house of some friends whose spirit always cheers me. My time with Sarah and Shena was used less for intellectual exchange, but I feel it was no less meaningful, if only because the spirit they carry with them seemed to lend its import to the conversation.
Tonight, however, was the conversation that sparked the whole process of my thinking about this. I spent the evening conversing with my friend Matt Spear. We talked for upwards of two hours, and I don't believe that any of it was wasted. Every part of the conversation was in some way used to share a personal belief or discuss an idea between the two of us. And here I am able to present an evidence for the growth I spoke of earlier. In the course of our conversation, I realized something about myself that I hope I will be able to develop to my benefit. We were discussing the differences twixt the way Matt receives guidance from the Holy Ghost, and the way his dad learns. Of course, the conversation came back to me, and I realized, for the first time ever, that the Lord has attempted to establish a method of communication with me. I realized that the only way I ever remember having received revelation is through writing. I say writing, but I mean the verbal (vocal or written) expression of whatever idea is in my head. I have received guidance numerous times when simply writing my thoughts during a church meeting. Or absently streaming my mind onto paper during a slow day of work or class. Elder Scott, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said in a talk at the MTC, "When you write things down, you authorize the spirit to give you more." I personally believe this to be especially true in my own life. And now that I have consciously realized it, I can develop it and begin to make use of it.
That is the type of growth that can come from meaningful conversation. Those are the conversations I would dub, real communication. I would urge you all to seek after this communication in your lives. I have known people to go months or years without ever actually communicating with anyone. I do not believe this is healthy. And so, I urge you again to find a time and person with whom you can communicate regularly. It will improve your quality of life.
But there is another form of communication. That form which originates in thought and conveys between individuals ideas and beliefs of import. This brand of conversation has a purpose wholly different, and equally as important as the more trivial form. While the lighter conversations serve dually as glue and grease, the deeper, heavier verbal exchanges serve as an individual stimulus to growth. These conversations originate in the deeper thinking parts of the psyche and penetrate the shallow shell of the social mind to whatever part of the brain contains the individual. More often than not, these intellectual or spiritual conversations require the mind to engage in effort, just to understand the ideas, and cause the engaged mind to reflect inwardly about itself.
I have had three of these conversations in the last two days, and can honestly say that I feel better about myself as a person because of them. I had the rare, and coveted opportunity to spend an hour with my friend Susanna. While I wouldn't say we plumbed the depths of philosophical post-modernism, I wouldn't say we wasted our words. Of course, some of the time we indulged in the enjoyment of the trivial, but we also made the effort to talk about things that mattered. Our time was short, and after she had to leave, I chose to visit the house of some friends whose spirit always cheers me. My time with Sarah and Shena was used less for intellectual exchange, but I feel it was no less meaningful, if only because the spirit they carry with them seemed to lend its import to the conversation.
Tonight, however, was the conversation that sparked the whole process of my thinking about this. I spent the evening conversing with my friend Matt Spear. We talked for upwards of two hours, and I don't believe that any of it was wasted. Every part of the conversation was in some way used to share a personal belief or discuss an idea between the two of us. And here I am able to present an evidence for the growth I spoke of earlier. In the course of our conversation, I realized something about myself that I hope I will be able to develop to my benefit. We were discussing the differences twixt the way Matt receives guidance from the Holy Ghost, and the way his dad learns. Of course, the conversation came back to me, and I realized, for the first time ever, that the Lord has attempted to establish a method of communication with me. I realized that the only way I ever remember having received revelation is through writing. I say writing, but I mean the verbal (vocal or written) expression of whatever idea is in my head. I have received guidance numerous times when simply writing my thoughts during a church meeting. Or absently streaming my mind onto paper during a slow day of work or class. Elder Scott, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said in a talk at the MTC, "When you write things down, you authorize the spirit to give you more." I personally believe this to be especially true in my own life. And now that I have consciously realized it, I can develop it and begin to make use of it.
That is the type of growth that can come from meaningful conversation. Those are the conversations I would dub, real communication. I would urge you all to seek after this communication in your lives. I have known people to go months or years without ever actually communicating with anyone. I do not believe this is healthy. And so, I urge you again to find a time and person with whom you can communicate regularly. It will improve your quality of life.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Dan?
My name is Dan. I know a girl named Arica
My middle name is Hallam. One of my friends is named Cody.
http://barefootblog.wordpress.com/
I also know a future advertising exec, a fashion goddess, several professional musicians, a photographer, couple of models, a movie maker, one person who helps troubled youth, and a wilderness adventure guide. All of these people have embraced something inside of them that really is truly them. They have a style of dressing, of talking, of creating, of living, that is totally theirs. They have a community of like minded people, who are as individual and wonderful as they are. Knowing all of these people has enriched my life greatly. It has also brought to my mind a question. A question I ponder at night, when I realize I have spent another entire day not doing anything. An entire day not becoming me. An entire day avoiding all the things that make a person. That question is this:
Who am I?
I don't mean Who Am I, like the Jackie Chan movie. I mean, Who am I? If I were to really sit down and think about it, I have no idea what the things are that set me apart from the rest. I don't know what are the things that assign me to a group of people. I play D&D. Am I a dungeon nerd? I rock climb. Do I belong with the granola crowd? I quite enjoy playing guitar, mandolin and didjeridoo, but I certainly don't fit in well with the musician crowd. I play WoW quite a bit, but I don't feel that I am "one of them." I love to shoot guns, and own them. I even know a bit about them. You still wouldn't be able to say that I am a true-blue Hick. (I say hick here because I don't know what other label to give them. I mean the people who have the "Charlton Heston is my President" bumper stickers) I can read and enjoy philosophy. Would you call me a coffee shop thinker dude? As you can see, when I get right down to it, I have no idea who I am. I don't even have a particular style of dress. I just where clothes that Kara told me to buy (mostly). So here it is again:
Who am I?
My middle name is Hallam. One of my friends is named Cody.
http://barefootblog.wordpress.com/
I also know a future advertising exec, a fashion goddess, several professional musicians, a photographer, couple of models, a movie maker, one person who helps troubled youth, and a wilderness adventure guide. All of these people have embraced something inside of them that really is truly them. They have a style of dressing, of talking, of creating, of living, that is totally theirs. They have a community of like minded people, who are as individual and wonderful as they are. Knowing all of these people has enriched my life greatly. It has also brought to my mind a question. A question I ponder at night, when I realize I have spent another entire day not doing anything. An entire day not becoming me. An entire day avoiding all the things that make a person. That question is this:
Who am I?
I don't mean Who Am I, like the Jackie Chan movie. I mean, Who am I? If I were to really sit down and think about it, I have no idea what the things are that set me apart from the rest. I don't know what are the things that assign me to a group of people. I play D&D. Am I a dungeon nerd? I rock climb. Do I belong with the granola crowd? I quite enjoy playing guitar, mandolin and didjeridoo, but I certainly don't fit in well with the musician crowd. I play WoW quite a bit, but I don't feel that I am "one of them." I love to shoot guns, and own them. I even know a bit about them. You still wouldn't be able to say that I am a true-blue Hick. (I say hick here because I don't know what other label to give them. I mean the people who have the "Charlton Heston is my President" bumper stickers) I can read and enjoy philosophy. Would you call me a coffee shop thinker dude? As you can see, when I get right down to it, I have no idea who I am. I don't even have a particular style of dress. I just where clothes that Kara told me to buy (mostly). So here it is again:
Who am I?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Mmmm....vicissitudes
There are those times in life when you are very pleased that you are not another person. Like, every time you hear Phil Collins music. Life is so much better, not being Phil. But I speak today of a more specific moment and person, who's life I witnessed take a displeasing turn today.
I went rock climbing with my friends today, all of whom are experienced climbers. Not pros, or anything, but capable climbers who have done it a lot. Anywho, I tried a bit of crack climbing on this route:
As it happens, crack climbing involves a lot of jamming your foot into a crack, turning it sideways, and then standing on it. This is less than ideal care for a recently dislocated ankle, so I did 3/4 of it, and came back down. Right as I was untying the rope from my harness I saw something large fall past my left side and heard an unpleasing thump. Then I realized Virgil was no longer on the wall. Virgil had fallen some 30+ feet onto the very hard rocks of rock canyon.
It is true that there was a lot of blood and worry, but Virgil ended up being okay. Linden, who tried to grab the rope, sustained some pretty bad rope burns, but she is also alright. This was the moment when I realized, despite how undesirable my life may be, Virgil's was worse. I decided this for sure when I heard him ask (7 times in one minute) what had happened and why he was there. Heather certainly seemed traumatized. She has a hard time with people in pain. After sitting in the hospital with Virgil and Linden I have decided two things: One, it is very important to be able to utilize the priesthood at any unexpected moment. I did not expect to have someone basically fall to their death in front of me today. But he did. (almost) Second, life is a bizarre set of experiences. What lesson will Virgil learn from this? How will Linden handle not being able to work for a week? If you look at someone, anyone, you see how they are now. You don't see how they were. What they have done. Go to a restaurant. Look at any old man or woman in there. One of them may have once fallen rock climbing. Or maybe they served in the army. Or used to be a baker. How did all of the things in their life swirl all together to become the now that you are looking at? What did those experiences change? Or, a better question would be, how is your now changing you?
I went rock climbing with my friends today, all of whom are experienced climbers. Not pros, or anything, but capable climbers who have done it a lot. Anywho, I tried a bit of crack climbing on this route:
As it happens, crack climbing involves a lot of jamming your foot into a crack, turning it sideways, and then standing on it. This is less than ideal care for a recently dislocated ankle, so I did 3/4 of it, and came back down. Right as I was untying the rope from my harness I saw something large fall past my left side and heard an unpleasing thump. Then I realized Virgil was no longer on the wall. Virgil had fallen some 30+ feet onto the very hard rocks of rock canyon.
It is true that there was a lot of blood and worry, but Virgil ended up being okay. Linden, who tried to grab the rope, sustained some pretty bad rope burns, but she is also alright. This was the moment when I realized, despite how undesirable my life may be, Virgil's was worse. I decided this for sure when I heard him ask (7 times in one minute) what had happened and why he was there. Heather certainly seemed traumatized. She has a hard time with people in pain. After sitting in the hospital with Virgil and Linden I have decided two things: One, it is very important to be able to utilize the priesthood at any unexpected moment. I did not expect to have someone basically fall to their death in front of me today. But he did. (almost) Second, life is a bizarre set of experiences. What lesson will Virgil learn from this? How will Linden handle not being able to work for a week? If you look at someone, anyone, you see how they are now. You don't see how they were. What they have done. Go to a restaurant. Look at any old man or woman in there. One of them may have once fallen rock climbing. Or maybe they served in the army. Or used to be a baker. How did all of the things in their life swirl all together to become the now that you are looking at? What did those experiences change? Or, a better question would be, how is your now changing you?
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Gjallarhorn
Please go here:
http://www.gjallarhorn.com/musicvideo.html
Experience their music. Experience pearls.
Dan
(experience pearls? what the hell is he talking about?)
http://www.gjallarhorn.com/musicvideo.html
Experience their music. Experience pearls.
Dan
(experience pearls? what the hell is he talking about?)
Friday, May 1, 2009
And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness. O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it.
...really?
...really?
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