The Importance of Play

One evening I came home to an strange looking green paste in a bowl on our kitchen counter. Steph explained that we were now almost out of parmesan cheese because Emma and Aspen had decided to take the entire container of parmesan cheese and to mix it with a can of enchilada sauce.

On another occasion while I was busy watching Grant Emma decided to make herself a buttered graham cracker. For those who are unfamiliar with this tasty dessert, it consists of 1 part cracker and about 3 parts butter-thus leaving you unsure if there is actually a graham cracker at all in the mountain of butter. Also to prepare this dish properly you should scoop out the butter with your hands. To top it off you should throw the butter-buried graham cracker in a large cup of water.

Next to sibling quarrels the messy or sometimes even dangerous consequences of children playing is one of the greatest challenges of a parent. And yet, play is so important. I recently read The Happiness Hypothesis by Jonathan Haidt. In the book Haidt discusses the role of play in our evolution and how, like most things in evolution, play is one of those great trade-offs between risk and reward. Play, he explained, is a necessary part of understanding the world we live in. Among our ancient ancestors it's true children who were too reckless or excessive in their play were endangered and potentially didn't survive but those who didn't play didn't learn about their world and consequently didn't survive either. Play is a child's path of discovery, a delicate balance between the dangers of exploration with the need to comprehend their world.

Admittedly this doesn't always console me when I'm cleaning up my daughters latest concoction or fishing in my son's mouth to remove whatever mysterious object he's found on the floor. But recognizing they are following the instincts that will help them learn and understand their world I do find added patience and a greater willingness to accept the occassional mess. I also find a bit of excitement in how I can channel that desire into more productive and safe paths so that they can cultivate a desire to learn throughout their lives.

First Church-The Salt Lake Unitarians

This Sunday I decided to do something I had never done before-attend the Sunday worship services of another Church. I chose to attend the Unitarian church and I had a wonderful time. As I walked into the chapel, which they have named First Church, I was impressed with how beautiful and pristine all the windows and perfectly white walls were. The service began with announcements and they were honoring teachers and in particular giving thanks to all those who had taught the classes for the preceding year. After that they had a very short lamp lighting ceremony that some of the younger kids led. It was admittedly a little cheesy but I really liked the message of the simple chant that, if I recall correctly, was "let this lamp represent the light of truth, the warmth of love and the energy to put it into action" complete with movements made by the kids as they gave the chant. Then the children left for their classes while the adults stayed to listen to the sermon of the Unitarian reverend. Since we were honoring teachers he decided to talk about learning from the teachers in nature.

Admittedly all the things taught in the sermon I didn't agree with. He obviously supports vegetarianism that while I can certainly see the philosophical argument for I don't think I'll ever fully embrace. (My philosophical justication I guess would be that without meat I'd probably commit suicide so it's either me or them and philosophically I always support saving the life of a human over an animal;). But the beautiful thing is that I knew it was an environment where I wasn't expected to accept everything. As a women who talked to me after the meeting explained, "We don't have any dogma here. We have Christians, Buddhists and even atheists and what you believe is up to you. We're just here to have dialogue and have a community."

However there were many things the sermon expressed that I sympathized with. He explained how observing the natural world, for example, should make us more accepting of same-sex unions. He explained how over 450 species of animals have been observed engaged in homosexuality. These animals are not excluded or shunned by others of their species. He also explained how sadly even animals, like humans, can be caged into acting or thinking dogmatically. He shared the example of a circus bear that spent much of his life restricted to a 9 foot square cage and once taken to a large zoo with a spacious area it spent it's life pacing the same area of 9 feet by 9 feet-never wandering beyond the barriers that it had accepted even when they were now no more than an illusion. All in all I found the talk refreshing and inciteful.

At the end of the service I was introduced to a few people, including the reverend of the congregation. I can honestly say the emotions I felt during the meeting, being introduced to the members there, and on reflection afterwards were the emotions I would have once called 'the Spirit'. It was a wonderful feeling, one that reinforced my belief that spirituality is ultimately the experience of when the music playing within us individually finds a melodic harmony with the music playing with those around us.

Steph's Amazing Cake Decorating

On Emma's birthday this year Steph decided to make a special birthday cake. Later she also took a cake decorating class. Today I thought I'd show off some of her impressive creations. Warning, hunger and craving for delicious sugar-packed cake will undoubtedly ensue. Also before you ask, yes, that first doll is actually wearing a cake.






Uh, yeah that last one didn't quite make it to picture time.

The Men Who Stare At Goats

When I saw the preview for 'The Men Who Stare At Goats' I had zero desire to see it. I thought the title was terrible and the goat plopping over with George Clooney staring at it was doing very little to reel me in. However I happened upon a podcast where the author of the book-which the movie is only 'loosely' based on- was being interviewed and I was intrigued by the subject matter. I decided to get the book at the library and once I started it I couldn't put it down-a rarity for me with any book.

The Men Who Stare At Goats is about the military's involvement in researching paranormal superpowers. That's right, our government, if you can believe it, wasting money on things that make absolutely no sense. The book details the governments investigation into psychic spies, subliminal mind control and killing animals by staring at them among other things.

Admittedly at times the author, Jon Ronson, I think tried to suggest a connection between these government activities and a host of other things that seemed a little far-fetched even though it made for interesting reading. For example, he writes about how a psychic spy trained by the military began training others and how one of these trainees eventually announced the arrival of a giant object accompanying the comet Hale-Bopp. He suggests this announcement inspired the Heaven's Gate cult mass suicide. He also discussed how Al Quaida is apparently looking into paranormal powers now as well. I hope this latter rumor is true. The more time terrorists spend investigating how to control our minds with silent messages and how to develop the power to harm people by staring at them the less they'll have to learn how to actually do something that might actually hurt someone.

All and all though it was a fun ride, leaving you fascinated at how individuals who have risen to the height of power can still be duped by psychics and paranormal gurus. Though eerily enough it's funny to see yourself asking-I wonder if that could really work? And if, by the way, the subliminal invisible message I wrote in white font between paragraphs is leaving you with an uncontrollable urge to send me loads of cash please let me know-preferably in a letter stuffed with loads of cash;).

Endure To The End

I haven't posted in awhile since thoughts on the afterlife is a tough springboard into other subjects. So today I thought I'd bring us back to life, so to speak, with the topic of enduring to the end.

After I got married this phrase hit me particularly hard. I had hit all the major landmarks on the road to salvation: get baptized, receive the Aaronic and Melchizedek priesthoods, go to the temple, serve a mission, get married and graduate from BYU. (Okay, maybe that last one was a misconception). It seemed the only remaining item on my 'list' was 'endure to the end'. This seemed rather daunting. Before there had always been some checklist item hanging imminently in front of me with clear blessings accompanying each item. Now the only items left seemed to be 'endure' and die.

I think the word endure hit me particularly hard after my mission since I could see it's Latin roots. The word 'dura' in Italian means hard. The prefix en usually denotes 'within'. So endure in a way means within hardship. When I looked up endure using the definition Google function (you type in define: 'word you want to look up') the first definition that came up was "put up with something or somebody unpleasant".

I don't want my life to be something I simply endured, I want it to be lived. I don't mean to suggest we walk away from the difficult or the challenging but rather we come to see the way such instances enhance the beauty of our life. Work, for example, can be seen as an obstacle to fun and enjoyment or it can be infused with appreciation for the variety it adds and the way it enhances the enjoyment of relaxation. Marriage can be seen as an unending stream of obligations or an ongoing exchange of love and mutual support. Children can be seen as a burden or endowment filling our lives with love and meaning.

In short I don't like the phrase endure to the end because it suggests we are in a constant state of difficulty and deprivation, that life is something to 'put up with' until you get your reward. Rather I hope to find the reward in living a well-lived life. I recognize the need to live our life in a way that is socially responsible, that minimizes conflict and that enhances our relationships with other people. I think such denotes a good or well-lived life. Such a life is not to be endured but cherished. Such a life doesn't have to be endured to receive one's reward but rather there are innumerable rewards to be discovered in living such a life.

Thoughts on the After Life

I was first going to say that going through a transition of faith often brings one to think about death but I suppose the reality is that being mortal often brings one to think about death. So I assume that all of you have probably given the subject considerable thought-except of course for my friends who are under 25 who still think they are immortal. (Though having past that age myself that is an ever dwindling percentage of my friends.) I also suppose that being a hypochondriac like me can bring one to think about death a lot more than most people since a hypochondriac is very good at being reminded at just how mortal he really is.

When I was a teenager and had doubts about the Church one of the main factors that kept me active in the Church was the fear of death. The Church promised the ability to gain a 'sure knowledge' of key truths and the one thing I wanted reassurance of more than anything else was the afterlife. I remained active and increasingly devout over the following years. While there was moments of peace and fulfillment during this time whenever I faced any sort of health crisis-and being a hypochondriac ensured I had them quite often even in circumstances most people would never call a crisis-that peace was quickly shattered. This particularly came to a head my senior year at BYU where various pressures and stresses in my life brought me to experience more severe physical symptoms.

The stress ultimately subsided as doctors assured me that the physical ailments I suffered from were not caused by any serious underlying condition. I also began to do more secular research on my own mental health and found many helpful tools in understanding the difficulties I faced in this regard. However the experience, which came at a time when I was living the Church as diligently as at any time in my life, made me accept that the Church didn't offer me absolute reassurance of life after death. It only offered me hope.

I realized that hope the Church offered me was still accessible to me regardless of what I believed. I could certainly hope for an afterlife. Yet at the same time for me I realized that hope didn't have to be wrapped up or attached to things that didn't make sense to me. If there was evidence the afterlife was a certain way or conformed to certain rules then certainly I would embrace it but thus far no evidence I had been presented (or that I've been presented since) seemed logically compelling. I feel confident that I am just as likely to die and find out God is a Buddhist, Muslim or Unitarian as a Mormon. I came to accept a hope in the afterlife while rejecting any specific religious concept of the afterlife and to try to live the life I know I have as well as I can.

Now, do I fear death? Of course. I am terrified of death but I always was. I meet few who aren't-particularly in face of a true health problem. I just accept that I can't eliminate it and that I have to focus on living life. However, there are some things I don't fear anymore. I don't fear that I have to believe or think a certain way to assure myself a good afterlife. I focus on how actions will effect my relationships with others instead of fearing how I will be punished after I die for what I do or don't do. I focus on life and when I think of death I remind myself that one, I can't stop it and two that I am hoping for an afterlife. While I see no reason to accept the beliefs of any religion about such an afterlife I honestly believe that if there is a an afterlife ruled by a just, omnipotent and loving God that the eternal significance of what holy books we attributed to Him, the places we worshipped or the creeds we adopted will be of utter insignificance.I also believe we'll all eventually participate in the best possible source of ongoing joy and happiness realized from the very thing that brings it to us in this life-in nurturing positive relationships with our fellow man and increasing in the understanding of our spectacular world and universe.

Missing the Mission

My brother Andrew returned from his mission in Peru on Wednesday. He appears to have had a wonderful time and occasionally sputters unwittingly into spanish. Unlike me he had the wonderful opportunity of serving with native companions-in fact almost exclusively with native companions.

It's been almost a decade since I returned from my own mission. My views on life and religion have changed drastically since that time but I still cherish my mission experience. I often wish I could go back to my mission and instead of being so intent on teaching people just listen. I talked to more people from different backgrounds on my mission than I had or probably ever will in my lifetime. On my mission I spoke to people from almost every part of the globe-since immigrants were often more willing to listen to us. But not only did I have the chance to speak to these people I had the opportunity to ask their thoughts and feelings about one of the most central parts of their life-religion. How often I asked a few superficial questions of people from these vastly different backgrounds just so I could lead into the message I thought was so much more important than anything they had to say. How sad that I neglected the chance to learn about such a wide array of cultures and religious backgrounds.

However, even with my neglect I took in an incredible amount of experiences. I had men who claimed to receive visitations from Padre Pio or the Virgin Mary to exuberant atheists who encouraged us to stop preaching and just start enjoying life to scientologists who tried to sell us their manuals. I attended Mass in the 500 year old Florence Cathedral and saw countless works of great art including 'The David'. I rode across the canals of Venice and saw the beautiful flowing hills of rural Tuscany.

But most of all I got to see the day to day living of a wonderful and ancient people-the Italians. How much I love them and miss them. I miss how on Saturday and Sunday evening instead of sitting home watching television the Italians would emerge from their homes, even in winter, to walk the streets of dowtown. Downtown areas were generally only for pedestrian traffic. They would walk with their families and greet friends as they perused the various stores. I miss the delicious food that they prepared with such dedication and such delight. I miss seeing the old men gather every morning on central square to talk and argue politics with their friends. I miss the kisses they exchanged as they greeted one another. I miss the angelic sound of their beautiful language as it flowed from their smiles.

How strange it is to look back and to think I thought I had the key to filling their lives with meaning when so many of them had figured it all out. They knew how to take in the simple pleasures of life with moderation and joy. They drank, but frowned on getting drunk. They ate delicious food, but walked and generally didn't eat to the point of becoming overweight. But most of all they drank in deeply the one joy that they knew mattered most and that would ultimately bring them the most sustainable happiness-fulfilling relationships with other people.