Like

     So, like, you know how, like, some people, like, say, like, "Like," like, every other, like, word, like, all the time?
     Oh my gosh, of all the things that people say that drive me insane, this takes the cake, easily. I hate the word "like" when used as a filler. It's so, like, irritating. Seriously. That doesn't mean that I don't use it occasionally, and it's not like words like "um" and "eh" are less criminal, but some people just can't stop using the filler "like."
     I have a good friend named Riley—my best friend back when I was a tween. I used to hang out at his house all the time, which means that I had a lot of interaction with his little brother, Logan. Back then, Logan was the "annoying little brother," so I didn't pay much attention to him, but he said something one time that I haven't forgotten in seven years (and I'm sure he heard it somewhere else, but I attribute it to him because he's the only person I've ever heard say it): "you know, if people replaced the word 'like' with 'monkey,' they'd realize how ridiculous it sounds."
     I love that! Let's see what happens if we apply it to the first sentence of this post: So, monkey, you know how, monkey, some people, monkey, say, monkey, "Monkey," monkey, every other, monkey, word, monkey, all the time?
     If possible, that sentence actually became even more annoying.
     And it's not even that the word itself is so bad—it's just distracting. Have you ever listened to somebody and counted how many times they say "like" or "um"? Or do you know someone who uses either or any other filler word consistently? If the answer was "yes," then that proves it! It drew enough attention to itself that you noticed; it pulled you away from their point. I was once in a public speaking competition where we all had twenty minutes to write a three minute speech based on a surprise prompt, and the older brother of a friend of mine spent the entire event tallying everybody's usages of "um." In three minutes, I think I had thirteen. The worst offenders reached up to twenty-five or thirty. And interestingly, there was a correlation between the amount of times contestants said "um" and where they placed in the competition. I tied for third place, and the winner had his "um"s cut down to two.
     Our points are far clearer when we cut out the distractions. Too much hand motion, lip licking, hair touching, etc., and soon people think more about how to imitate our posture than emulate our principles.
     We live in an age of opinions and self-proclaimed experts. Everybody wants a say in everything, and if it's said passionately enough, it must be true. If it's a meme or on Buzzfeed, it's factual. All celebrities are now authoritative, scholarly sources—even Rosie O'Donnell, who has no business weighing in on anything, frankly. There are many memes featuring quotes by celebrities that say impressive, inspiring, or idiotic things, depending on where you lie on the spectrum. But how do we know that those quotes were actually said by those celebrities? We don't. At all. But we trust it because it's a meme, it has a picture of them, and it's easier to believe that someone knows what they're talking about than to think that they don't. So we trust, and then we take inspiration and share our own thoughts.
     Some souls are actually valiant, truth-seeking individuals who study, research, ponder, decide, and then speak. I applaud such modern day heroes who value truth above sensationalism, principle above popularity. I know many people who fit this description, most notably my brother, Jason, who is expertly informed on just about any political topic known to man. Whether or not you agree with these people, you have to give them credit for their scholarship.
     Sadly, though, even these people fall subject to the plague of "like"—not necessarily in word, but in distraction. Some things they say or do pull listeners and readers out of the conversation and signal only their flaws or mockable habits.
     The BIGGEST example of which I can think is the ALL CAPS strategy. Does ANYONE appreciate being yelled at like this? I know that the purpose is to put EMPHASIS on the KEY POINTS of the argument, but I feel like the person is just angry. They just seem FURIOUS. And no matter what they're saying, no matter how much sense it makes, I'm deterred by their vindictiveness.
     You know the next one. And if you don't, just agree with me. It's telling readers and listeners what they do or do not know/should or should not do. Seriously. I'm right. You understand. Don't ever write or speak like this. People will hate you. You're just gonna turn them off. But you already know this, so just be nice. Now. Write kindly. Make your points the way I tell you to. Or else. Okay, breaking from that, isn't that annoying? I find it incredibly annoying. I break this rule occasionally, for which I apologize, but my brother, Tyler, pointed this out to me recently, and it made me realize how arrogant it sounds when people tell you what to do or think and act like you agree with them and like if you don't, you're an idiot. That last part is hard to avoid when you speak boldly, but I think it's important to be especially careful when discussing issues on which people intensely disagree.
     Rambling. Don't ramble. Rambling loses people. I ramble. It's a bad idea. People get lost when I speak because it takes me so long to reach my point. That is all.

     And then there's Donald Trump. For all the hype he gets about racist, arrogant, or otherwise insensitive comments, this is my biggest issue with him: his facial expressions while other people speak. He rolls his eyes, nods sarcastically, and constantly expresses his disgust with those around him, often without speaking. I don't know anyone who enjoys speaking with people like this. It's just annoying. You know that no matter what you say, they won't listen. So you stop speaking. Well, I do. I assume you do. But maybe I'm wrong.

     There's a million more things, but I think that's clear enough. Human beings are intelligent creatures. I was talking to my friend, Conrad, the other day about The Lord of the Flies and Hobbesianism, which basically suggest that man is inherently base and animalistic, reverting to uncivilized tendencies. But Conrad pointed out, "Man created civilization. They obviously didn't want to live like savages. They wanted to improve." I thought it was a most excellent point. People are good. They're smart. They have valid, valuable things to say. But sometimes all of us say things in such a way that the message gets lost in the minutia. It's hard to eradicate these tendencies entirely from our general mode of expression, but I would invite each of you to reflect and identify at least one thing you say or do that distracts from your brilliant insights. I know mine: I state opinions as fact, I ramble, and I employ a pretentious lexicon (I use big words that no one likes). I'm working on all of these, and I think we would a lot more effective in how we communicate with each other if we learned how to do so kindly, directly, and clearly. Christ never belittled, and He never tore down. He was a light on a hill and an example to the believers of how to communicate love, compassion, patience, understanding, and empathy. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all come even close to His level?

     Like, I don't know, but, like, I think that would be kinda, like, nice.

If we start now to communicate with love and clarity, the impact could be enormous—maybe even the difference between life and death:

Dually Noted

     The word "duly" is the adverbial form of the adjective "due," meaning proper, correct, or appropriate. Thus, "duly noted" is the equivalent of "appropriately recorded" or "correctly observed." I have on very rare occasions seen people spell this phrase as "dually noted,"containing the adverbial form of the adjective "dual," meaning "consisting of two." Completely unrelated is the word "duel," as in Duel of the Fates from Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, arguably one of the greatest scores in movie history.

     As I said, this infraction is highly infrequent, so it's not a huge concern of mine, but I think it leads to a good discussion.

     When two people get into a debate, discussion, argument, or whatever, it's generally not because they agree over something, right? Nor do they tend to address two completely unrelated topics. The cause of an argument is usually that more than one person contends for more than one perspective on an issue. Arguments and debates, by nature, consist of disagreements. Is that bad? Not at all when handled properly. The problem is that so rarely are these things handled properly.

     But what's "properly"? That's a whole other perspective right there! I'm sure you've realized by now that I'm in the running for The Most Opinionated Man in the World Award for the fourth consecutive year, so I'll tell you my perspective and dub it absolute truth. In lieu of this post, though, I feel obligated to acknowledge that I actually don't know everything and that my opinions are just that.

     I'm going to repent of my earlier statement that "duel" is unrelated to this topic. This is actually a pretty good place to bring it up. I feel like in your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill, ho hum argument, participants' intentions are to note things both duly and especially duelly (sic. Made-up word). Somehow, somewhere, the English language became corrupted to the point that "argument," "contention," "debate," and even "discussion" turned into nasty things where people let their emotions get the best of them and make unkind remarks sometimes having nothing to do with the matter at hand. (See my post, "Can I Axe You a Question?", http://the-angel-in-the-marble.blogspot.com/2015/11/can-i-axe-you-question.html). Arguments are now seen—or at least treated—as duels, wherein only one contestant will emerge victorious and the others (if they emerge at all) will be a bloody, shameful mess. Causes are advocated and defended, and no ground may be won by either side until it all goes down. No one can relinquish their ideals or reconsider their platform. Those who do so are seen as weak, tyrannical, wishy-washy, flip-floppy, and lacking in moral fiber. 

     Now, changing your platform just to please your audience is another story, but earnestly seeking truth should be the goal in any discussion—in all of life, for that matter. That's when things become "duly noted."

     I guess what I'm trying to say is that the end goal is to reach "duly noted" (the discovery of absolute truth), and "duelly noted" is the most common strategy for arriving there (even though no one ever gets there this way). So my suggestion is that instead of dueling in debates, we try dualing in debates. That may or may not be a made-up word as well. Bear with me.

     In John Stuart Mill's book, On Liberty, he says that "even if the received opinion be not only true, but the whole truth; unless it is suffered to be, and actually is, vigorously and earnestly contested, it will, by most of those who receive it, be held in the manner of a prejudice, with little comprehension or feeling of its rational grounds." I understand this as saying that even if we hear the truth, we won't believe it until it's been argued, and I believe that. Debate is a healthy, essential part of a balanced, American breakfast. Truth is truth, not perception, but it is interpreted and accepted through perception and perspective.

     In life, there are things that are good and others that are bad. We also have sections of things that are good, some that are better, and a few that are best. Lastly, we have things that are neither better nor worse—just different. So how do we sort them out? By listening.

     That applies both to listening to the person with whom we're speaking, which will enable a trusting relationship and bond of openness, and listening carefully to the Holy Ghost, who reveals all truth (Moroni 10:4-5). We can't begin to qualify somebody else's intelligence or relationship with God; that's personal territory. But we can hear what they have to say and treat it as something valuable. Everything in this world that interests at least one person is therefore technically interesting, because it has the capability of interesting someone. If we don't understand it, that's the perfect opportunity to hear something new and to learn from other peoples' experiences. Desmond Tutu said, "Differences are not intended to separate, to alienate. We are different precisely in order to realize our need of one another."

     Only by seeing things from another perspective (dually noting) can we begin to understand the truth. And hopefully part of that discovery will be that truth is far more subjective than we thought. From a religious standpoint, yes, there is absolute truth. God exists, we are His children, murder is wrong, etc. But when it comes to the gray areas, the only way to move forward is to move together, treating all perspectives as equally valid and worth discussing. In matters where what's right is evident and we just don't know how to accomplish it, then again, only through dually noting can we trust each other enough to figure things out. That doesn't mean we have to agree, but sometimes it means we have to let things go.

     Sometimes dually noting means that we discover we're wrong or that we discover that either way is equally acceptable. Regardless, be happy that you've now discovered the truth! And be happy that the people around you are happy, too. Applaud them in their search for truth, even if they may be slightly ahead of you in one category or another. We're all still just travelers, trying to find the right road. We can do that separately, or we can do it together. We can duel, or we can dual.

     Above all, we need to be wise enough to seek truth without self-interest, wherever it may be; patient enough to hear each other out, even if we disagree; kind enough to help and support others in their quest for truth, realizing that we're not the ultimate authority but merely fellow seeker; and humble enough to accept the truth for what it is, giving credit where credit is due—or, in other words, making sure that credit is duly noted.

Today has a double bonus! The first is a short video (one of my favorites) about realizing you don't have all the facts, found here: https://youtu.be/dbFiB7oiQs4, and the other is a talk given by an Apostle entitled, "Loving Others and Living with Differences:" https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2014/10/loving-others-and-living-with-differences?lang=eng. Enjoy!

There, Their, They're

     A place, a possessive pronoun, and a contraction all walk into Starbucks and order hot chocolate. When asked their names, they respond in completely unique ways, but the cashier hears the same thing and writes all the wrong names in all the wrong places, mixing up their orders and scarring humanity for all time.
     Thus the misunderstanding between there, their, and they're began.
     It was an honest mistake, really, but one that nonetheless drives me absolutely insane. I try not to let it get to me, but I can't figure out to how to ignore it. They same goes for "you're" and "your." *shiver*
     I used to say that I wouldn't marry a girl who couldn't properly distinguish "you're" and "your," along with "there," "their," and "they're." I've since repented and realized that people can still be good people while not understanding grammar, but oh how it irritates me...
     But people are people, and we make mistakes. And this is one of the most common, so I'll cut you all some slack and just explain the difference for those who don't know yet:
     "There" is a nonspecific location that is not where we currently are. In other words, it's anywhere but "here" (and if you spell it "hear" instead of "here," so help me, I will—).
     "Their" is like "my" or "your," but is belongs to the third person plural. E.g., "Those girls are eating a giant hamburger. Their hamburger is huge."
     Closely related is the difference between "theirs" and "there's." "Theirs" is the object form of the subject "their," basically meaning that it goes at the end of a sentence rather than the beginning: "Their hamburger is huge. The hamburger is theirs." "There's," on the other hand, refers to the fact or existence of something: "There's a hamburger over there, and it's theirs." But remember that "there's" only covers singular items; "there are" is correct for plurality. "There's a hamburger being eaten by girls. There are girls eating a hamburger."
     "They're" is the contracted form (the version with an apostrophe) of "they are." That's it. No special tricks. Just "they" and "are" combined and shortened, separated by an inverted comma.
     Let's put it together now. "The girls have a hamburger. They're over there eating their hamburger. My hamburger is gone, so I hope there's some left over from theirs over there when they're done eating it."
     Understand? I hope so.
     The reason I bring this up is because 1) it's a problem and it needs to stop; 2) my girlfriend sent me the above meme, and it's hilarious; and 3) the meme reminded me of something that happened yesterday.
     I got a ride home with some friends after class, and the one in the front seat joked, "What would you guys do if I randomly burst into tears?"
     I rubbed her arm reassuringly and said, "Probably this. And then I'd say, 'There, there.'"
     We all laughed at how ridiculous and ineffective the phrase "there, there" is. We all know it's horrible and not even the least bit comforting. So how do we comfort people?
     The simple answer is that it's not that simple. We're all (kind of) unique, so we all have (kind of) unique needs. We respond differently to different approaches.
     My girlfriend showed me a video the other day called "It's Not About the Nail." If you haven't seen it yet or just want to watch it again, you should click on this link: https://youtu.be/-4EDhdAHrOg
     I absolutely love this video! It's hilarious, and it's so true. Everyone I know who acts like the girl in this video denies that they do it, but that's beside the point. Some say that the only thing they need when they're upset is just to have someone listen to them. I disagree.
     Don't get me wrong—validation is important, but it shouldn't be the end goal. We'll never change if all we do is seek out people who will tell us that we're always right. We shouldn't surround ourselves with people who belittle us, either, but God put us on earth with family, friends, and associates so we could work together through our problems. We need people who will tell us how to improve.
     I love criticism. I hate rudeness, but those aren't the same thing. I love to feel like people understand what I'm going through. But when the problem is so visible to them yet just out of my sight (like on my forehead), then I'll be upset if they don't tell me how to fix it. If they don't know either, then I want to know that. I realized the other day that if somebody isn't afraid to tell me when something is amazing, when something is awful, and when something is decent but could use some work, I will trust that person until the dusk of eternity. I know that they'll tell me how they're really feeling, no matter how that is.
     I think sometimes we confuse how we need to be comforted with how we want to be comforted. Coddling feels nice and all, but it's not constructive.
     In the scriptures, God says that after an argument, we should go back, "showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom [we have] reproved" (Doctrine and Covenants 121:43). The increase of love implies a love that already existed and was known to the recipient.
     I feel like the same thing applies when we give comfort. The recipient won't believe us unless they've seen and felt prior that we love them. They need to know that we won't judge harshly, ridicule, or rebuke them for their actions. They need to know that we'll never let them go, no matter what they say. That's how they'll come to us in the first place, and that's how they'll open up. That's how they'll believe our validation, and that's how they'll accept our feedback when we identify beneficial strategies. That's how they'll know that our only intention is to help them.
     I don't know how everyone needs to receive their comfort, but I'm convinced that the best, most universal tactic is to love them long before they need comfort and to make sure they can't not know it.  That will come through attention, sacrifice, kindness, and never, ever, saying the words, "There, there."

God is so good at comforting that His Spirit is known as The Comforter and His Son is also called The Second Comforter. Here's an impactful video about how God comforts us when we're having a hard time:

For All Intensive Purposes

     That's a pretty intense purpose you've got there.
     The prepositional phrase "for all intents and purposes" dates as far back as 1500s English law, meaning "for every functional purpose; in every practical sense; in every important respect; practically speaking" (Wikipedia. Best site ever). Basically, essentially, virtually, practically, pretty much. Taking all possible intents, purposes, goals, and designs into consideration, but regardless of what they are, then it must be concluded that _______.
     Somewhere along the line, the phrase got misconstrued as "for all intensive purposes," which sounds cool but has no functional meaning. It's like saying, "As a result of all deep, rigorous, and thorough resolutions, we see that _____." Goals alone aren't enough to determine outcome.
     But just because a good purpose is incomplete in and of itself, that doesn't mean it isn't essential. We can't get anywhere in life without intending to. We won't accidentally get into college or happen upon a happy marriage. Some things in life come with little effort (so they seem), but nothing is ever purely coincidental. I'm a firm believer in God, and I see His hand all around me. I believe Him when He says that we will always be blessed when we do what's right—not necessarily right here and now (it would be easy to follow God if instant gratification were involved), but when He knows the time is right.
     When I got home from Chile, I got an amazing internship on a film set and later a resulting job publishing company that will be so instrumental in my hopes for a career as an author and screenwriter. The job was offered to me by a former Bishop that I felt like I needed to visit. He asked me about my school and work goals and said, "We're starting a movie tomorrow. Wanna come intern?" It was a miracle and seemingly out of the blue, but was it really? I attribute that blessing to the way I served my mission and how I was upholding the principles I learned there when I got back. I felt a prompting from the Spirit that I almost ignored, but I knew what I was feeling and trusted God. I'm glad I did. That doesn't make me inspiring or noteworthy, I don't think, but it's a personal experience that reminds me that no matter how sudden a blessing may appear, it's never unearned or coincidental. My missionary service was intentional. I constantly strove to work hard, be obedient, and serve others, and God is still blessing me for that.
     In the scriptures, the Lord commands us to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of [our] own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness" (Doctrine and Covenants 58:27). I guess if we really tried, we could get through life without a purpose. But I can't even imagine what would happen. We certainly wouldn't have the smile of God's approval, and that's what I care most about anyway. True happiness is gained through sacrifice and hard work. God promises us blessings in return for righteousness, some bigger than others. The greater the blessing, the more intense our purpose needs to be. My most intense purpose is to make my Heavenly Father happy. I have an intense purpose to get married and raise a righteous, united family. I have an intense purpose to study, graduate, and work so I can provide for my family. One of my biggest intensive purposes is to return to the presence of God and stay there forever in His glory.
     My last post was about caring vs. not caring. If we don't care, then it doesn't matter what we do. When Alice asks the Cheshire Cat which path to take, he teaches that it depends on where she wants to end up. Just as we need to care about what happens to us, we have to be active in making good things happen for us. We can't control everything in life, but we can and should direct our course far more than we sometimes think. We can see, find, and create good for ourselves. It just requires effort and conviction, holding nothing back in pursuit of our goals.
     God designed this life in such a way that no one can gain anything of spiritual significance without working for it. He wants to us to be "things to act" rather than "things to be acted upon" (2 Nephi 2:14). So let's all work a little harder at remembering why we're here and where we want to go. And when we've done all we can do, exhausting our intensive purposes, we'll reach the potential God has in store for us.

For your enjoyment, a short video on living with purpose:

I Could Care Less

     Where are you on your spectrum of caring? I realize what a silly question that is, because we care about a great many things—things that we actually like and want to care about, as well as priorities that are forced upon us but we'd rather avoid, like school, work, etc. Some people genuinely like school. I don't understand those people, but they're a credit to the human race. For the rest of us, we don't want to care about school, but we have to because it determines so much of our future (so they tell us. See my last post about student loans).
     Anyway, pick something about which you care very little--maybe you don't care for it at all! In fact, that's better. Pick something you don't care about at all. For me, that's generally something like what I want to eat or wear or whatever. I really have no preference most of the time. Like, none. Rock bottom of caring. Another way to say that is, "I could care less," right? Wrong! How does that even make sense? What you mean to say is, "there is no possible way for me to care less about this," but what you're actually expressing is, "I have an indeterminate amount of caring regarding this issue. It is still possible for me to care less." I mean, it could work if what you meant were, "I don't care that much, but I care a little bit." But that's generally not what you mean to say, is it? Is it?
     Grammar Nazis everywhere jump on this colloquial mistake like free pizza on a college campus. It's one of the first things that comes to mind when we think of incorrect things that people say. So I hope that if you use the not-so-correct version of this phrase, you immediately repent and change your ways (I'm only kind of kidding).

     Why do we care? This is open-ended. It could refer to our personal lives, education, health, or anything else. There are also innumerable reasons to feel that something is important or worth our time. I don't think there really is a right answer or a wrong answer. The only unacceptable response is to not care at all.
     That said, why don't we care? I'm not talking about things that are actually inconsequential, like which type of cereal you buy. I mean big things—whom and how often you date, your major, your job (both what it is and whether or not you have one), etc—that we pretend not to care about. Not all of us, not all these things, not all the time, but there are certainly times when we act like we couldn't care less when we really could care less.
     So why do we put on a face? I think it's because we're afraid to feel vulnerable. If what goes up must come down and what goes around comes around, then what we say must be heard, how we react must be seen, and what we feel must be built up or shut down. I understand that. I have a history of putting my feelings on the line and hearing "no." I'm not seeking pity or anything—I'm actually really happy about the way my life is going right now—but it's true. I've tried not to let it eat at me, but it's hard to be rejected. I don't in any way want to diminish that. Someone once told me that the worst thing she had ever gone through was a breakup. I believe that. Emotions are tender; they break; they hurt. There's no way around that.
     But they also glow. They uplift. They fill. They strengthen. They complete. They're worth it. I can't think of a time when I've been proud of myself for pretending not to feel. But looking back with a mature, experienced perspective, I wouldn't take back any time I've let myself be vulnerable.

     God put us on earth to feel. He commands us to love one another (an emotion), to be of good cheer (an emotion), and to mourn with those that mourn (an emotion). I also saw in a movie that He commands us 365 times in the Bible, "Do not fear" or "Be not afraid." It's not that He's telling us not to feel, though. He just wants us to feel the right thing. We can feel sad from time to time. Christ Himself was described as "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" (Isaiah 53:3). He knows what you're feeling, no matter what that is.
     The prophet Alma taught concerning the Savior, "And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people. And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities" (Alma 7:11-12). To "succor" means to "run to." Christ suffered all things—sins, pains, sorrows, sicknesses—so that He could run to us when we need him. He knows you, and He knows how you feel. It's okay to be sad, but He doesn't want us to dwell in sadness.

     He also doesn't want us to not feel at the expense of experiencing negative emotions. "Men are that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25). If we're choosing not to feel instead of feeling sad, we're not halfway there. We're actually going backwards. God wants us to feel joy, and He wants us to feel sadness so we can appreciate the joy. I bawled my eyes out watching Disney and Pixar's Inside Out because of its central message: it's okay to feel things besides joy. We can feel a mix of emotions that even we don't understand, and that's perfectly fine. But not feeling at all is an emptiness that I hope I never experience again.
     I know that emotion isn't a light switch. But if we let it, it can be a sunrise, gradually enlightening and warming the world around us. Every day consists of a sunrise, a noon, a sunset, and a midnight. Those are all essential pieces of our lives. So my hope for anyone who reads this isn't that every day becomes an eternal sun. I just think it would be nice that if when midnights come, we remembered that the sun's just around the corner.
     I hope that you, whoever you are, are happy. And that's something I could care less about, because I actually care a lot.

Here's a video based on the words of an Apostle, teaching us why we need a load in our lives, good or bad. An emotionless life won't lead us home:

Can I Axe You a Question?

     Someone once said, "There's no such thing as a dumb question." I've wondered many times in my life if anyone reputable actually said that or if it just became a thing, like "can't even" or "swag." Don't even get me started on those, though. I can't even. Back on point, I kind of feel like someone must have needed credibility once, so they said, "As somebody once said, 'There's no such thing as a dumb question,'" and everybody probably thought, "I'm sure somebody has," and they all just went along with it. That's how the saying was born. I'm almost 73% convinced.

     Regardless of the saying's origins, we've all probably said it at least once, and I'd bet my Grandpa's remaining kidney that we've all heard it (maybe this is why I don't gamble...). A related preface is, "You know what they say:" Who are they? Why do they get a say in this? I don't even know them—unless, of course, I do, in which case I would appreciate a much less ambiguous ethos appeal so I know that I can actually trust what I'm hearing. Otherwise, they could be neo-political, self-endorsed bloggers (like myself) who will hopefully never qualify as a scholarly secondary source on any topic, even blogging. We're not apt. Or sane.

     The world is full of self-proclaimed experts. I'm one of them. I self-proclaim expertise on writing, grammar, religion (at least Christianity), many political platforms, hockey, football, movies, television, acting, songwriting, guitar, piano, and I don't even know what else. But when there's a controversial Facebook post about it, I'll be sure to let you know.

     That right there is the point of this post. Only a small fraction of us actually know what we're talking about on only a small fraction of what shows up in our news feed. We don't read, watch, or listen to the news; we don't study fiscal implications on tax increases and free education; the only thing we know about illegal immigration is that it involves illegal immigrants; does anyone even know what ISIS stands for? (P.S. even after you Google "ISIS" right now to find out what it stands for, you are not an expert on the topic). Saturday Night Live has a clever sketch called "Should You Chime in on This?" about a game show where contestants receive a topic of a hot-button current events issue, and the question is the aforementioned title. The answer is "no," theoretically. But that's not what they say. Ever. We all know those people who think they know everything about everything. I know a few of them, and everyone whom I know knows me, and I certainly fit that category.

     Now, let me clarify that it's wonderful to seek learning and understanding. We should grow; we should ask questions; we should converse, discuss, and debate; we should toss ideas around so we can learn from each other. It's a citizen's duty to be informed and updated with all major issues, whether locally, globally, or anywhere in between. One problem is pretending to know more than we do, but that's a trait of humanity, so I don't want to keep beating that horse. The bigger problem I see is when friends become hostile in their search for truth.

     Christ taught, "For verily, verily I say unto you, he that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention, and he stirreth up the hearts of men to contend with anger, one with another. Behold, this is not my doctrine, to stir up the hearts of men with anger, one against another; but this is my doctrine, that such things should be done away" (3 Nephi 11:29-30).

     When there is contention, the Spirit of the Lord cannot be present. Self-defense is obviously a different story, but when we attack one another, the Spirit is grieved—offended, even—and must retire. Such is the nature of deity. So whenever we post angry comments or accusatory questions (axeing instead of asking), the Spirit can't testify of the truth, no matter who's right. Only God can give us proper enlightenment, including in civic matters, so we need to play by His rules if we want His presence.

     Even off the subject of religion, people don't respond to fiery attacks. Well, we do, but we respond equally vehemently. The point is that when we're angry and spiteful, we close off our hearts to everything shy of armor-piercing ammunition. In that state, our hearts can no longer be touched—only torn apart.

     Ignorance isn't the plague of Facebook, and that's not what we're really seeing throughout social media. It's not just that people like cops or don't like cops, that refugees should stay or go, or that women should or should not be able to breastfeed without coverings in public or do or do not have the right to an abortion. Those are valid concerns for a number of reasons. Beyond valid, they're actually pretty important. Lives and futures are at stake. But it's not so much that we don't understand the issues; the problem is that we don't understand each other.

     The real plague of social media is a lack of kindness. People are still people online, and just because somebody says provocative things, that doesn't mean you have be provoked. That's a conscious decision on everybody's part. Let's be responsible, reasonable, and respectful. Let us love one another as Christ loves us and behave in such a way that would make Him smile. So many people axe questions because of their devout religious beliefs, hoping to instill in their peers the same love for God that they feel. One thing I need to remember more is that Christ wants us to be missionaries, and He wants us to stand for truth. But the greatest of these is charity. If we're not one, we're not His. That doesn't mean we have to agree on everything; it just means we won't do anything to hurt each other because of our love for those around us.

     You know what they say: there's no such thing as a dumb question. Whether or not that's true, there is certainly such a thing as a mean question, and those will never move us forward.

Here's a fantastic video about bullying—both in person and online—and how we can stop it. Please watch!

Playing Off My Student Loans

     Greetings from Seattle! I'm up in Washington for Thanksgiving break visiting my brother, Tyler. It's the first time I've seen him since getting back to the United States in May from my mission in Chile. It's also the first time I've gotten to meet his youngest daughter, and his older two are so big now! It's crazy.

     Tyler and I went into the city today so he could show me around. He took me to Pike Place, which was so cool! It reminded me of Chilean ferias, but it was honestly way better (sorry, Chile). I particularly enjoyed feeding the seagulls french fries outside of Ivar's. One of them landed on my head. I don't have a bird phobia, but it freaked me out. I loved it!

     It's Thanksgiving time, so I'll get right to the point (if you can believe that). One of my favorite attractions was a street performer outside of the original Starbucks (like, the first ever). He was playing the accordion and wearing a pigeon head, with a sign in front of him that said, "Playing off my student loans."

     My brother and I started talking about what a dumb place we've arrived at in this country. We strive to get into college so we can graduate and get a well-paying job, and in order to do that, we get ourselves into debt. Our degrees now make us average, so we get average jobs for average pay for an indefinite period of time with a constantly pending mountain of student loans. So now that we're sophisticated college graduates, what do we do? We dress up as fowls and stand on street corners so we can slowly crawl out from under our debt. Score one for the American Dream.

     There would be little point to this post if it were just a complaint about The Man and The System. There's not much we can do about that. What we can do is do our best to not get into this situation. There are several ways to get through college without incurring debt, and we can't criticize the government for overspending when we can't figure out our own pocketbooks. I'm not a financial expert, so I'm not a scholarly source by any means, but there's one solution that stands out to me: work hard.

     That refers to both academia and profession. Tyler, the same brother that took me to downtown Seattle, graduated from Utah Valley University in April. He also had a wife, three kids, and three jobs. He also finished college with absolutely no debt. He's an inspiration to me of how to sacrifice and provide without focusing on oneself. He often tells me that it was the worst time of his life, but it was worth it, and he won't be haunted by bills and loans for the next decade.

     Another way to work hard is to actually apply for grants and scholarships. When I attended MiraCosta Community College, the counselors told us repeatedly that thousands of scholarship dollars went unspent every year because not enough students applied for them. Ironically, even after they told us that, I did nothing. Colleges and Universities have so much money! What they don't have are people who will take the time to apply to their financial programs. Be one of those people.

     The last strategy is to actually qualify for scholarships in the first place. I don't want to suggest that nobody applies for scholarships. People do, and it can be competitive. So make sure that you stand out. That can come in many forms, but especially in your GPA and your extracurricular activities. If you're still in High School, do stuff outside of class. Play sports, join theater, and/or do anything your school offers as a way of getting ahead. It all contributes. As for grades, a friend of mine just told me, "A lot of people tell me, 'Don't worry so much. C's get degrees,' and I'm like, 'Yeah, but A's get scholarships.'" I totally agree with her. It might be a pain in the butt to study instead of hanging out or watching Netflix, but it's all a question of priorities. And honestly, I love study dates. It's the best of both worlds (though it can be a little difficult to concentrate). What you really have to ask yourself is how badly you want to not have any debt in five years.

     Unfortunately, college is expensive, and college students are poor. Even worse, there's not much we can do to change either of those (except protest that tax payers should pay even more so we can get free education because we feel entitled to their money. I don't advocate that). What we can do is take responsibility for our own actions and work, work, work. No excuses, no complaints, no protests. Just maturity, intelligence, and honest effort. Life is so much better when we stop blaming everyone around us and start holding ourselves accountable for our actions.

     Debt isn't the worst thing in the world, but I've seen in my own family that it's definitely not something you'd like to have if you can avoid it. Luckily, there are many ways to do just that if you're not afraid to work hard for it. Brainstorm and come up with some, or you may end up playing music on a street corner wearing a pigeon head.

Here's a short video excerpt (2:35) based on a talk called "Becoming Provident Providers Temporally and Spiritually." Enjoy! 

Exit: Perspective and Truth

ex·it
ˈeɡzət,ˈeksət/
noun
1. a way out, especially of a public building, room, or passenger vehicle.
"she slipped out by the rear exit"
synonyms: way out, door, egress, escape route;
2. an act of going out of or leaving a place.
"he made a hasty exit from the room"
synonyms: departure, leaving, withdrawal, going, decamping, retreat;
verb
1. go out of or leave a place.
"they exited from the aircraft"
synonyms: leave, go (out), depart, withdraw, retreat
"the doctor had just exited"

     If you're like me, you think that words should be pronounced properly. It drives me insane when people throw in a random "k" sound in words like "especially" and "et cetera." Odds are that you're not like me, though, and I certainly hope for your sake that you're not. However, many people with whom I speak occasionally point out one "mispronunciation" that apparently reaches beyond just English majors: exit.
     Okay, be honest. How did you say it? Did you pronounce the "x" like a "k" or a "g"? Did you say the end like "zit" (pimple) or "sit" (what you do in a chair)? Almost everyone who has ever talked to me about this agrees that it must be pronounced "EK-sit." I used to agree with you.
     But did you look at the very top? I was totally shocked. Both "EG-zit" and "EK-sit" are official, acceptable pronunciations of the word. My entire childhood was a lie. I've always said "EG-zit," but I've always "known" that it "should" be "EK-sit," and many people have corrected me. This isn't about me getting vindicated, but it got me thinking about how we interpret truth in other people's lives.
     One of my biggest flaws is my quickness to judge others harshly. I see people and assume an entire backstory for them of how they were raised, their personality style, and their entire life experience to explain why they do the things they do. Sometimes I'm convinced that somebody is doing something wrong just because it's not the way I would do it. I remember my mom once telling me that her parents used to argue about which direction the toilet paper roll was supposed to face—folding in front or folding behind. It seemed so funny as a child, but I definitely decided that it should unfold in front of the roll. And now, whenever I see a roll wrapped behind, it bugs me. It doesn't drive me crazy, and I won't even say anything to the people who put it there. I just silently think to myself, "That's wrong." No, it's not. It's toilet paper.
     There's a hilarious moment in Pixar's Inside Out where Joy knocks over two boxes of little wooden pieces—one labeled "facts" and the other "opinions"—and scrambles to put them back in the right box. She says, "All these facts and opinions look the same. I can't tell them apart." Bing Bong responds, "Happens to me all the time. Don't worry about it," and they just put the pieces back into whichever box. I laughed my head off. I thought it was one of the cleverest commentaries on human thought in the movie (which is saying something).
     I don't think it's our fault when we mistake opinions for fact. It generally comes from us forming an opinion when we were too young to remember that it was just an opinion, or we were very trusting as children, or something was told to us so often that we can't see it being any other way. A Church leader once taught a big group of missionaries when I was in Chile about the concept of a false dichotomy: two things that seem contradictory and cannot coexist but that actually aren't and can. The term can also refer to decisions where people pretend that there are only two extreme options while a third solution is perfectly plausible. The whole "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" is one example. Can't both of them be my enemy, too? "If you're not with me, you're against me," when I could easily just not care one way or the other.
      One of the biggest false dichotomies I heard as a missionary, serving the Lord 24/7 for two years with a whole handbook full of rules, was that you had to choose between being exactly obedient or showing your love for people. Ironically, a very similar concern faces us in everyday debates about terrorism, tragedy, LGBT rights, alienation, immigration, poverty, education, etc. (there's no "k" in that, remember). People think that we have to choose: Christ, or tolerance? Law, or love? I can see why people would see that discrepancy; I think it's mainly caused by media and over-generalizations about human behavior.
     It also comes from a lack of knowledge about the Savior. He's the center of my life, so I can't leave Him out of this conversation. After the recent controversy regarding the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints' new policy on baptizing children of gay couples (the explanation of which can be found here: https://youtu.be/iEEMyc6aZms), my brother and I crafted a statement that we offered on Facebook in an attempt to post an objective, non-confrontational insight. It was this:

   Jesus Christ is the most loving person in history. Showing evidence through His every action and teaching, He manifested a selfless, pure love for us, even to the point of atoning for our shortcomings.
   Along with being the most loving, Christ is also the most obedient of all of God's children, having never disobeyed his Father. He was perfect in every sense of the word.
   He is the most forgiving and understanding, and from this great love and understanding came firm doctrine in which we learn that He could never be lenient toward sin. Among others, three things of which I am certain are: Christ's abhorrence of sin, Christ's loyalty to His Father, and Christ's love for us (the people He gave His life to save).
   We know that we cannot prescribe to cafeteria Christianity, picking and choosing which commandments to follow, and to imagine Christ doing so would be blasphemy within itself. He cannot forsake one for the other.
   I'll leave you with this final thought regarding our Savior, Jesus Christ: All He wants is for us to come home to Him, even if that means extending correction. "For whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth" (Hebrews 12:6). Chastening isn't necessarily correction from wrong-doing. It's redirection when we need a guiding hand—either in the way we think or in what we want to do. He tells us that He wants us to lose our lives for His sake and find them in Him. He's telling us to get rid of the logic of men, to abandon pre-conceived notions about ourselves and others. He's telling us to remember that life isn't all about us. We can't create God in our image. He wants us to become like Him because He loves us. He wants us to come home to Him because He loves us. He gives us commandments so we can know how to get back to Him, and He does so because He loves us. Christ is love. So when Christ corrects, or chastens, or gives counsel, or when His servants, the prophets, issue statements on Church policy that we may question or disagree with, remember that it comes from Christ, our Savior, who: 1) Cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance, 2) Represents His Father in all things, and 3) Loves us more than we will ever comprehend.
So when God gives us commandments, don't jump to conclusions that He's restrictive or hateful. Just think, "how is this law a manifestation of God's love for me?" You'll be surprised what you discover through the promptings of His Spirit.
   Thank you for taking the time to read this.
   Love, Richie and Tyler Angel

     True disciples of Jesus Christ shouldn't have to choose between loving God and loving their neighbor, but God's commands come first. If you would like an instance of Christ's direct, unapologetic approach, please consider reading Matthew 10:32-39 as just one example. To see and feel Christ's matchless love and mercy, one place you may refer is John 8:1-11, the story of the woman taken in adultery. Note that he didn't approve of her sin nor forgive it. He simply told her not to do it again and gave her the chance to prove herself.
     Sometimes, we may have to openly oppose certain behaviors, but that doesn't give us excuse not to love someone. It's possible to love God and love your neighbor. For ways to show greater love, here's a link to a previous post: http://the-angel-in-the-marble.blogspot.com/2015/11/love-greater-than-diamonds_15.html
     Opinion can be relative to perspective, but "truth is truth! It is not divisible, and any part of it cannot be set aside. Whether truth emerges from a scientific laboratory or through revelation, all truth emanates from God" (President Russell M. Nelson, current President of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles). I have many opinions, preferences, and biases. Some of them may pop into this blog occasionally, and I may accidentally present them as truth. I don't mean to.
     But here are some thing I know for myself, unashamedly and unfalteringly:
     I know that God lives. I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I know that they love us more than we can comprehend and desire only our eternal happiness in the mansions that they have prepared for us. I know that God reveals His word so we know how to follow Him and return to His presence. I know that these instructions—commandments—are not merely burdens but clues or hints from a loving Father who wants to guide us safely home. I know that in order to reveal these clues, God speaks to prophets, ordinary men with extraordinary faith in Jesus Christ. I know that Moses was such a prophet, that Isaiah was such a prophet, and that Joseph Smith was one, too. I know that Thomas S. Monson is currently the prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and is God's living oracle on the earth. I know that everything God teaches us is what is best for us. I know that we're not perfect but that God can help us become so eventually. I know that when we sin, we can repent. I know that Christ waits with open arms to receive us when we seek His aid. I know that we are never out of our Savior's reach and that His love will never run out. I know that through Christ, we can be changed. Such truths will always remain, no matter how you pronounce them.

The following powerful message comes from the late-President Boyd K. Packer, former President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, just two years prior to his death:

 

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/04/these-things-i-know?lang=eng

If I Was/Were

     WARNING: This post may contain information only interesting to English majors and Spanish speakers.
     When I served as a church missionary in Chile, I obviously had to learn Spanish, which was incredibly difficult for me in the beginning. What really tripped me up were the verb conjugations, which I think is understandable for all English-speakers. I mean, think about the verb "to speak." In present tense, we have I speak, you speak, he/she/it speaks, we speak, you (pl.) speak, and they speak. The only difference is the "s" in third person singular (he/she/it), with the occasional irregular verb, e.g. "have" to "has." Past tense: I spoke, he spoke. Future tense: I will speak, he will speak. Conditional: I would speak, he would speak. You get the picture. But in Spanish, it totally changes. In present tense alone, we get hablo, hablas, habla, hablamos, hablais, and hablan. In past (there are two past tenses in Spanish, preterite and imperfect, so here's both), we have hablé and hablaba, hablaste and hablabas, hablamos and hablábamos, etc. You see what I see, right? It's complicated.
     At the same time, though, at least it was familiar. I knew what all these tenses were, so I could relate them to English phrasing so they made sense. There was, however, one tense in Spanish that completely threw me: subjunctive. Now, within subjunctive, there's past and present. Present is a lot easier, and I soon mastered it. But past subjunctive was a different story. Hablara, hablaras, habláramos, etc. You can also say hablase, hablases, hablásemos, etc. To apply it to English, it's basically how you form "if/then" statements, the subjunctive following the "if" and the conditional (would) following the "then."
     For example, "if I had a million dollars, then I would be rich." "Would be" is unique to the conditional tense, but it's super easy; you just add "would" to the verb root (or "infinitive"), in this case "be." But in English, the "if" part is even easier. You say "if I had" if it's hypothetical, and you say "I had" if it's actually something you possessed in the past. It's the same for "if I went to Japan" and "I actually went to Japan." "If I could fly" and "I could fly when I was younger." The conjugation is exactly the same.
     Or so I thought.
     I eventually discovered that we actually do have past subjunctive: "If I were you." We just don't recognize it because it only exists for one verb, "to be." Most people seem to think that the "were" is there because of the "you," but the subject is "I." Besides, how would that make sense if "if you were me" has the same conjugation? No one says "if I was you." The only acceptable way to go about this is to say "if I was yous" with a Brooklyn accent, no exceptions.
     This even applies to other verbs if we phrase them slightly differently: "if I were to have," for instance, and "if I were to go." That construction isn't as common, but we understand it, right? Why do we say "if I were"? Two words, perhaps the worst I had ever heard in the Spanish language: past subjunctive.
     By this point, you probably won't be surprised that I cringe when I hear people say "if I was older," "if I was smarter," "if I was" anything! The word "was" has snuck itself into a place where where it doesn't belong. But I'm glad for the discrepancy, to be honest. Being back in the United States, I now recognize how often we say "if/then" statements (cringing helps you notice things better). We all say them almost constantly.
     I've come to the conclusion that we're never satisfied in this world. Everything is hypothetical, conditional, and reaching. We think, "If only I were _____, then I would be happy, have a girlfriend, or make more money," among many others.
     Think for a moment about your conditional statements, your past subjunctive ideas. Here are some of mine: If I were in a steady relationship, I would feel like I was finally progressing in life. If I weren't so lazy, I would work a lot harder on my college papers. If I were to work harder on my papers, I would get better grades and possibly a scholarship. If I were a scholarship student, I would feel valued and set-apart. If I were more wealthy, I would buy better clothes and be less self-conscious on campus. If I were less judgmental, I would have more friends.
     In Cool Runnings, one of my favorite movies, John Candy's character is a 375-pound man who once won the olympic gold medal but has lived the remainder of his life in shame after he was caught cheating to obtain another one. His team covets the gold more than air. In a very touching scene, John Candy says to the team captain, "Derice, a gold medal is a wonderful thing, but if you're not enough without it, you'll never be enough with it."
     The problem with past subjunctive, or at least our use of it, is that our confidence, happiness, and value are too often placed in things that don't matter. Who cares if I have money? Who cares if I have a scholarship? Yes, those things are nice, and there's nothing wrong with them. The problem is when my happiness depends on them. If I wasn't enough before I got a girlfriend, I won't be enough with her. (note: I just used "if I wasn't," which is past simple. It works in this case because it's modified by a clause in future tense, "I won't be," not conditional, "I wouldn't be"). But that doesn't mean that it's bad to speak conditionally. By closely examining our lives, we can see the hand of God leading, encouraging, and molding us into the people He wants us to be. If I were anyone else, I wouldn't be the person whom He wants me to be. It's also a great way to see where we should be investing our time and realizing what's holding us back from following our dreams.
     When I decided to write this post, I asked a good friend about some of her "if I were" statements, and her response illustrated the proper way of thinking:
     "If I were taller, I wouldn't be awesome at climbing on top of things like countertops and trees. If I were richer, I would spend more time on the arts. If I were braver, I would skip everywhere I go and not care what I looked like and be able to get places faster. If I were more disciplined, I would have and keep a workout schedule. If I were disciplined, I would finish the things on my to-do list. If I were taller, it wouldn't be as thrilling as it is to be picked up."
     Inherent in her answers are gratitude and self-awareness, not jealousy nor vain ambition, and I wish I were more like that. I want to become more like that. I have to learn to be enough just the way I am. My growth depends on my effort to change, but my happiness shouldn't be dependent on anything except whether or not I exist. What a beautiful world, and what a beautiful life; unfortunately, I waste them wishing I were somebody else.
     Sometimes, God cuts us down. He takes us places we don't want to go, asks us to do things we don't want to do, and sets us "back" a step or two (as we see it) just when we were getting ahead (as we see it). I'm so grateful to my Heavenly Father for the trials I've experienced and the torture I've felt as I tried to change. Those changes were worth the effort in every way, and they're still in progress.
     If I were you, I would have tuned out a long time ago, so I'm grateful that you made it this far. But I'm not you, and you're not me, and that's exactly the way that God intended it, and I wouldn't have it any other way. We all have a unique quality to offer the world, and we all have a lot to learn in different ways at different times. So if I were you, I wouldn't want to be anybody else.

This is one of my favorite religious videos. It's about being grateful for God's redirections and corrections in our lives:

Love Greater Than Diamonds

     I wanted to talk today about the four levels of interaction—motivations for how we treat people. I heard one of my friends say something similar to this recently, but I've had this list floating around in my head for a long time. Far from making me special or more innovative, I think that just shows how God can and does inspire many people with the same ideas and understanding so we can all reach out to one another and lift each other up. There are many Gospel truths that haven't occurred to me yet, but I know that my friends, family, classmates, etc. are brimming with insights that could change my life. Be it a little or a lot, we all have something to share, and we owe it to each other. So here are the four levels of love for our neighbor. This is my own list and not necessarily doctrine, but I've seen wonderful things as I try to live it, and I know you will, too.
      1. The Golden Rule. We all know this one. Treat others the way you want to be treated. It's a good philosophy. Christ even taught His early disciples, "whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them" (Matthew 7:12). If we act this way, we'll be far less judgmental, more understanding, more patient, more loving, etc. We'll communicate better, and we'll seek to see somebody else's side of things. But there's a problem (well, there's many): first, we can be very hard on ourselves, and what we say to ourselves in the way we say it may not be what people need to hear. I see this folly when I realize that I'm a very direct person and like to say things exactly the way I see them. They're open to debate, and I genuinely love discussing them respectfully with other people. But not everyone's like that, and when I state my opinions so forcefully (even though that's how I want people to talk to me), they get scared to disagree and generally defensive. I've offended a lot of people by speaking directly—exactly the way I want them to talk to me. The other problem is that we all speak a different love language. I hadn't heard of this until my Church mission in Chile, but there are five main ways that people express affection (not just romantically) and receive it. The five are: physical touch, words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, and gift giving. Everyone has a primary love language and a few elements of the others. I'm very much a physical touch kind of guy. When I want to show sincerity, I touch people's arms while I speak. For me, hugging and holding hands communicates far more to a girl than actual words. And for guys, my favorite way to tell them that I care about them is to give them massages or reassuringly put my hand on their knee when I tell them they're awesome. I love touching people. Now, that's mainly because that's how I want them to express love to me—how I want to be treated. But can't you easily see how there will be a disconnect in a relationship if I treat a gift-giver like a physical toucher? She won't understand what I'm communicating, just as I won't fully grasp her meaning if she knits or crochets me a beanie. And thus we get to step two.
      2. The Platinum Rule. From here on out, this is my opinion no más. But the Platinum Rule is to treat others the way they want to be treated. What is love if not selfless? It's about meeting the needs of the other person. I've definitely seen the benefits of this one, especially with my best friend, Conrad. He is the most Words of Affirmation person I have ever met. Over the years, I've realized that when he gives me these long, heartfelt, motivational speeches, it's the highest expression of love he can possibly give me. I'm touched, but I don't feel it as much as I think he means it. Likewise, when I give him a hug, lean my head on his shoulder, or jokingly ask if he'd like to cuddle, although I don't know any higher way to say "I love you" to my best friend, it's rather uncomfortable for him. But one day it just occurred to me that I was taking it the wrong way. If Conrad expressed his love through words, then that meant that he wasn't going to understand my love for him until I used words. I'm trying to get a lot better at that now, listening to what he has to say and instead of just saying "I think you're right" or "good job," I tell him every detail of what I liked about his Elders Quorum lesson (a class in church) or exactly why I thought breaking up with his girlfriend was a good decision and how proud I am of him for the hard thing he's done. He lights up like a child's eyes in a toy store when I tell him that stuff. I've always felt that love for him, but I prefer to express those feelings through other, quicker means. Unfortunately, the message goes unreceived, so it's essentially useless. Conrad has been doing the same thing. I don't remember exactly what had happened, but the other day I was having an incredibly difficult time. It probably had something to do with a girl. The entire world was conspiring against me, and I was ticked. Normally I get depressed and cry and feel sorry for myself, but this day I was fighting back tears and trying to act tough. I was angry and grimacing, and it just wasn't the best of days. I vented to Conrad while I put away laundry, and after a while, Conrad stood up, crossed the room with his arms wide, and gave me a hug. He told me more in those ten seconds through that action than he could have in ten minutes with his words. I don't know if he knows how much he communicated, but that's the way it registers for me. So much higher than treating others the way you want to be treated is treating them the way they want to be treated. But again, there's a problem. Some people are really down on themselves and don't feel like they deserve much. Others self-aggrandize and want to be worshiped. I could say, then, that you should treat people the way they deserve to be treated, but some people deserve a kick in the pants, to be honest. That's obviously not a good idea (most of the time). So that's where step three comes in.
      3. The Diamond Rule. Treat others as if they were the Savior. "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me" (Matthew 25:40) I asked myself these questions a lot as a missionary: what if you saw the drunk people in the streets as if they were Christ? How would you react to your companion if he were the Lord? What would you do differently if you called your Savior every Sunday night to give Him a weekly report of your labors and the people you're teaching? Now that I'm back in school, would I get so mad about a low grade if my professor were Christ? Would I trust my partners in group projects more if they were my Redeemer? How would it affect the way I study? Date? Work? Play sports? It's obvious that everything would be different. We'd see trials as the growth experiences that they are—tests designed to make us better. We'd see people as sincere and honest; we'd trust each other more. We wouldn't be so upset when they took forever in the bathroom or had to cancel because something else came up. This is the level that I believe only some of us achieve on our very best days. I began to see drunk people the way Christ saw them, but only once or twice did I actually feel like I was ministering to the Savior. I developed Christlike love for those I taught, but it was hard to treat them with the same respect and gratitude that we reserve for Christ. Obviously, they haven't done for us what He did, but that shouldn't matter according to Him. We are all equal, and He includes Himself in that, no matter how much better than us we know He is. But even this rule isn't enough. Think about it: we're jerks to Christ sometimes. We spit in His face. We strike His face with an open palm. Eveme>ry time we sin, we cause Him more pain, and that generally doesn't even cross our minds when we do it. He sweat great drops of blood for every single one of us. We all cause Him inexplicable suffering. "He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not" (Isaiah 53:3). Isn't that so sad? I die inside when I read these words. But isn't that exactly what we do? I hate myself for it every time I think about it. But that's at least how I treat Him from time to time, too ashamed to follow His teachings, embarrassed about what "other people" will think. If I were to truly treat people the way I treat the Savior, I would hit, ignore, insult, and deceive every single one of them. So that's why we have step 4. Thanks for hanging in there.
      4. A New Commandment. Notice that this one isn't just a rule like the others. "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another" (John 13:34). Can we even comprehend how much Christ loves us? Can we make sense of it? Think about everything I just said in the previous paragraph, and now ponder how much He must care about us to go through with the Atonement, to call us kings and queens, and to repeatedly tell us that He will not leave us comfortless. I came to know my Savior through repentance and breaking down into the depths of humility to relinquish all of my sins, bad habits, and hidden scars. And I have never felt so much love—nor did I know it was possible—until I felt Him tell me that He had paid the price and that He accepted my offering. To love us despite everything we do to Him ought to cause Him to wince. But He doesn't. He wouldn't have it any other way. His love for us is unconditional, no matter how much we hate ourselves, no matter how much we hate Him. He never interrupts (unlike me), and he never condescends (unlike me). He tailors His advice to our needs and spends every moment pondering our hearts, trying to find the best way to reach us. He touched, spoke to, served, spent time with, and gave to everyone who needed Him, adapting His methods to their circumstances. No mortal could ever love the way Christ loves any more than we could atone the way He atoned. His love is perfect and has no end. I want eternity to be that way—with my family, friends, and all those I love.
      It's so hard to do this, and like I said, 3 is rare. I've never hit 4. But it's eventually what we'll have to get to if we want to become like Christ. So let's work on it! I have so far to go... yikes. I promise I'm working on it. I've had some very meaningful discussions with several people this week about how badly I want/need to stop interrupting people, talking all the time, building myself up, tearing other people down, and stating my opinion as fact. I know it, and I've known it for a long time, so I understand the impatience that I'm sure some of you feel toward me. But I promise I'm trying, and I know that God is supporting me and leading me along. I love everyone who reads this more than they know, even if by some odd coincidence somebody who doesn't know me makes it this far into the post. If you're here, dear anonymous reader, know that I love you—not for anything you have or haven't done, but just by virtue of the fact that you are a child of God and will be forever. So will I. We are all part of a beautiful heavenly family, regardless of race, gender, sexual preference, age, occupation, nationality, socioeconomic status, or even religion. We're made up of the stuff of eternity, and just as there's no end to our existence, there should be no end to our love. I mean, it's like learning to appreciate your siblings: if we're gonna be stuck together for so long, we might as well learn to love each other, right?
     All jokes aside, the biggest thing the world is missing right now is love—for both God and mankind (in that order). But it doesn't have to be that way, and we can be the ones to change it, one loving touch, word, gift, service, or shared moment at a time.
     The following is a beautiful compilation of scriptural examples of God's love for us in sending His Only Begotten Son and Christ's love for us in following the will of the Father, all in the name of saving a wretch like me:

Inconceivable!

in·con·ceiv·a·ble
ˌinkənˈsēvəb(ə)l/
adjective
not capable of being imagined or grasped mentally; unbelievable.
"it seemed inconceivable that the president had been unaware of what was going on"
synonyms: unbelievable, beyond belief, incredible, unthinkable, unimaginable

     Two of the most famous lines in movie history (especially on BYU campus and in the modern meme era) are from The Princess Bride: Vizzini's catchphrase, "Inconceivable!" and Inigo Montoya's response, "You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means."
     I've always been bothered when people, like Inigo, claim that Vizzini's usage of the word is improper. I frankly don't even understand how they can think that. Wesley is doing some amazing things—tracking their boat, climbing the Cliffs of Insanity, clinging to the rocks when the rope is cut, etc. It's all pretty incredible (see synonyms above. Also, the Spanish translation "increíble" comes from the root "creer," to believe. "Incredible" literally means "unbelievable."), and it's as if Vizzini is saying "I can't believe it! I am incapable of grasping this, mentally! This can't possibly be happening!" All of these phrases are alternate versions of the same exclamation. I don't know what other people think he means, but regardless, I don't think Vizzini's usage is, by any stretch of the imagination, "totally and in all ways inconceivable."
     As illustrated by the example above, sometimes we misinterpret things. Sometimes somebody says one thing and we hear another. Sometimes we're wrong. Either Vizzini or Inigo misunderstands the meaning of their words. Words are the stomping ground for misinterpretation. Actions, too, can be misconstrued, but I think words have an even greater tendency to lose clarity as we try to construct them carefully. We hear words the way we understand them, and sometimes that understanding is limited, based on one connotation rather than the complete meaning of the word.
     I'll give you an example. The other day, I told my mom that sometimes when I'm pursuing a girl, I often feel like she finds me repulsive. Well, maybe you, like her, read "repulsive" and think "revolting, disgusting, vile, foul, nasty, loathsome, sickening, nauseating," etc. These are all acceptable synonyms (and maybe I am all these things), but they're not the only interpretations. Dictionary.com defines "repulsive" as "causing repugnance or aversion" and "tending to drive away or keep at a distance," among other things. Using this definition, I reasoned with my mom, "If girls don't like me and they keep their distance, avoid me, or reject me, I'm repulsing them. If I consistently repulse, I am one who repulses. One who repulses is repulsive. Therefore, I am repulsive."
     My point is that the only way to understand each other is to explain our feelings. I thought that "repulsive" was clear enough because I understood it one way, but the same word gave my mom a completely different picture. Once I unpacked my meaning, she was able to address my feelings much more effectively, and an insightful conversation followed. We can't just assume that people will receive our words the way we intend them. Our entire lives have sculpted our understanding of every word we use, and we don't have the same experiences, so our feelings require more effort in expression than just one-word statements.
     Ever play the game of Telephone? The message gets ridiculously maligned by the end, even unrecognizable, but not just because of the collective group. Those mistranslations happen one at a time, one exchange at a time, one misunderstanding at a time. Now, have you ever played this game in dating? I did in High School, for sure. When I had a crush on a girl, I talked to her friends. When I had a problem with a girlfriend, I talked to our mutual friends. What on earth was I hoping to accomplish? How was I ever going to understand how she felt? Unfortunately, I played Telephone again once more this summer, but this time against my will. I liked a girl and asked her out. We went on one date, and I had a great time; I wanted to ask her out again. But I was treading carefully, not wanting to be overbearing. While evaluating the situation, my best friend talked to me about what he thought she my be feeling, and I responded with my thoughts. Unbeknownst to me, the girl had talked to her best friend, who talked to my best friend, who talked to me. Thinking I was just talking to him, I shared my feelings, but then he talked to the girl's best friend, who went back to the girl. The train came back into the station one more time before I realized, and I immediately decided that I had had enough. If two human beings can't communicate with each other, there's no reason for them to be together, honestly. It shows so much immaturity when we can't openly express our feelings, whether or not we even care about the person, but especially if we do. Adults communicate.
     To guys and girls, if you like someone, tell them. If you don't and you can tell they like you, tell them. It's possible to be honest without being rude. In fact, the rudest thing you can possibly do is prolong the agony of uncertainty. And if you're not particularly wordy, don't worry about it. Just send clear signals to express your feelings—not things that you do with everyone (smiles don't count as signs of liking, nor does texting while talking to someone necessarily show disinterest), but something unique, the extra mile. Guys, if you like a girl, ask her out. And then do it again. And again. Girls, if you like a guy, touch his arm a lot. Say things like, "We should do something together sometime," or "we should do this again," or "next time we can...," or heck, you can ask him out. It's hard to put yourself out there, but trust me, it's harder to watch people you care about end up with somebody else because you never had the courage to act.
     If you haven't decided how you feel yet, tell them that, too. Keep people informed on your emotions and opinions. It's only weird if you make it weird and/or if you only mention your feelings at all every three months or so. People meet and get married in that time (occasionally). Express your feelings more often than that.
     If you don't like somebody, tell them nicely. Say you're not interested in them, that you're in a relationship, that you don't want commitment, or whatever. Just tell the truth, and make sure they get it. As William H. Taft once said, "Don't write so that you can be understood, write so that you can't be misunderstood." I'd rather know it's a "no" than suffer and wonder. But be nice. Even repulsive people have feelings.

Here's a cute video about how to express love to someone on a unique, personal level:

Tying Back to Our Thesis

I'm an English major. I know, right? Why on earth would I do that to myself? People always ask me, "What's wrong with you? I could never write that many papers," but then they talk about quantum physics, C++, and algebra, and I just have no idea what they're saying. It all just sounds so much more noble and intelligent than I am.
     Sometimes I feel like I write because I can't do anything else, though I know that's technically not true. I could be a wonderful sock model, or maybe even a food critic! I think I'd like that. The only problem is that I don't feel any passion for those fields. You know what I do feel passionate about? Commas. Commas are the best, but only when people know how to use them properly. There are times when I literally shriek because of how happy I am about a comma. I know; I know; I'm being ridiculous.
     You do weird things when you're an English major. Like punctuation, for instance. Look at the last little bit of the previous paragraph: "I know; I know; I'm being ridiculous." Do you notice what's weird about that? Semi-colons. I lied about commas—well, exaggerated. Semi-colons are actually the best (the caveat still being that they must be used properly!). But back to semi-colons, a device used to connect two related independent clauses. Most people would write the same statement like this: "I know, I know, I'm being ridiculous." What's the difference? Commas. This is not the place for commas. When commas are used to separate two independent clauses with no coordinating conjunction (and, or, so, etc.), it's called a "comma splice." "Ain't nobody got time for that." Well, actually, most people do. But English majors don't.
     Another cringe-worthy infraction is ending sentences with a preposition. I do it all the time (see above, "what I do feel passionate about?"), but I do it knowingly, and I wince—every time. Winston Churchill once said, "Ending sentences with a preposition is something up with which I shall not put" (roughly). Sounds over-the-top, right? Most people would agree with that. In this day and age, nobody speaks like that, so obeying that grammatical structure sounds, frankly, ridiculous. Even I recognize that, so I conform to society despite my best wishes. But that doesn't mean I don't cringe.
     Believe it or not, there actually is a point to all of this. Being such a dilettante of words, you can imagine my joy this morning at church when I heard an English concept applied to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The girl who was teaching said that life is like a research paper, our thesis is our cause, and our actions are body paragraphs that (ideally) tie back to our thesis. My mind was blown. That's such a great way to look at it! The thesis is what keeps a paper consistent; it brings clarity and direction. Without a thesis, we have no paper—we've just written a lot of noise.
     But even with the best thesis, the paper is meaningless without clear body paragraphs that directly relate to the claim. We can say that Hamlet is a psychopath (I'll prove it later), but if the paragraphs that follow are all about Romeo, what good does it do? We're just babbling. Coming back to our lives, if we profess to believe in Christ yet we don't follow His teachings (all of them, not just the easy ones), then what are we doing? If our thesis is to get a good education, how would dropping out of school accomplish that? Does spending all day at work and then yelling at our spouse, children, roommates, etc. upon getting home really help us prove our thesis about the importance of family? Just as the Apostle James taught that "faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone" (James 2:17), so, too, is our thesis dead if we don't have body paragraphs that tie back to it. Everything we do should reflect the cause we fight for (or "for which we fight" if you're an English major).
     We all have goals, and we all have distractions, so let's all conduct a self-inventory and figure out what's keeping us from reaching our goals. If there's anything inconsistent in our actions, maybe it's time for a revision (re-vision) of our lives. It's never too late to write a new draft, polish our paragraphs, and tie them back to our thesis.


For more on how to align our actions with our righteous goals, check out the following talk by an Apostle of the Lord:

 

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2014/10/choose-wisely?lang=eng#5-10991_000_31cook