compassion

june 23 2011. today a mother and father lost their son. did you feel it?

bodies lose souls, souls depart bodies every day. i guess we won't know until we die ourselves what that can feel like, but i'm convinced we can still feel the loss, the departure...we have a sense. part of us was designed to bond. we connect to each other. we lose each other.

or perhaps more appropriately we misplace each other. living separated by tinted glass. only with the right lighting will we see beyond.

because the shift of life from one place to another is happening constantly, maybe we don't always recognize each loss each moment. until it happens closer. until our connection is directly tied.

i believe my favorite human capacity is compassion. when one human’s heart can ache in sync with another’s, when one can provide skeletal support for another whose skin is the only thing keeping their insides in. insides dissolving in grief, pressing into tears, quaking from a shattered core, echoed in hollow sobs.

the man i saw who held his collapsing wife was father. his courage…to be strong enough for mother to mourn; one strong so two wouldn’t crumble. the woman who held her face in trembling hands was mother. Her sobs…her soul was torn and life bled from her heart. her youngest son. his body still; hers curling around her wounds, seeking safety, as an embryo.

her youngest son.

had time off from work and went out on the river with some buddies. they went out after and had a few drinks. when they got home he laid down, slept. friends went to work. came home, tried waking him up. he was gone. there, but gone. he was twenty-eight years. son, brother, uncle.

i have no sons but i have a 30 year old brother and a 30 year old uncle. i have a close connection to the situation through my love for these two men who could represent an equivalent loss in my life. i love my mother and father and would feel pain to see them mourn as this couple for their son. same if it were my grandparents mourning for my uncle. compassion struck me through imagining their reality as my own. my heart dropped to the bottom of my lungs and for a moment both forgot what they were any good for.

Truth is, reality is, even when a child escapes the womb and grows for 28 years, the mother keeps an embryonic connection to the precious human, in her heart, a love always developing and moving inside her. It is a love she hopes to die with, never to survive its early disconnection…of course the love remains and is not lessened, but its earthly connection, manifestation, mind and body pair, physical interaction cease. it's loss of life. a mother's life is her children. she loses life when a child is lost. two lives lost though only one heart stops...

a healthy heart experiences new births daily, new persons arrive to be loved, new ideas to cradle, new feelings and thoughts to nurture, new sights and sounds to be gathered and held dear. a normal heart experiences frequent deaths. the familiar flow of life, of things, is interrupted. we bleed.

all the bumps and scratches and bruises and cuts get bandaged and kissed better. eventually. we have to allow the compassion of others to carry us when we cannot continue.

blood carries life. mother carries child. life carries problems. love carries solutions. love carries life.

when your love is bleeding, accept transfusions of compassion. love is a universal donor. the heart is a universal recipient. open it. sure, blood and life are designed to replenish themselves, but it can take a while after major loss.

carry love in your heart always. be a love donor.

love does not end in death. no, death isn't even really an end because of love.

what i felt in one moment, a frame of vision, proves to me there is enough love in this universe to fill every person.

compassion. compass. passion.

the possible range of all emotion: suffering, mourning, grief; of love, kindness, mercy, joy; the north and south of mortality, this was encompassed in the passion of Jesus Christ. His life, his blood, given in sacrifice for the healing of all mortal frailties, provides transfusion for compassion. for life when it is lost. no life is lost because of Him. because He carries life. because of love.

compassion is nobility in humanity.

Life in a Day

Enough amusing things happened in my day today that a chord within me has been strummed to a blog-inspiring tune. the morning started out really chill. I got to sleep in (until the morning sun started burning me through my window. i need to move my bed) and take a nice long shower (hey, my water bill is like 'everyone pays for everyone'...it's equalized somehow for the whole building or apt complex. it's the screwiest thing i've ever heard. but i may as well use my share of water if i'm going to pay for it. shoot.) but then i took too much sweet time and had to hurry flurry pack up and run downstairs for my ride to work. God bless everyone who gives rides to people. hey that includes me. sweet.

it was a warm morning. i rolled my back seat window down. stopped at a red light, my ride was right next to a bus stop. one fellow had the stage, telling his two seated friends a story.

"So i had four hundred dollars and my ex was all yelling at me cuz she thought i would blow it all in one day. here it is four days later and i still have eighty-two cents!"

"Hey, so you're doin pretty good"

green light go.

at work i got a hug from my favorite driver whom i call sweetheart. then i got another ride from there to the airport. okay all this is boring. skip to the part where there's a YogurtLand in the airport. yay! so i got coconut, devil's food cake, a lil mango and a lil strawberry flavors, topped it with almonds, strawberries and choc chips and savored it before going through security. a father and his two girls sat across from Ed and me as we spooned frozen goodness into ourselves. i couldn't help but overhear

"Dad, i think i have a stupid question, but why when a balloon has a string does it float, but when it doesn't have a string it doesn't float?"

"it's not the string, it's what's in the balloon. A floating balloon is filled with helium and one that doesn't float is filled with air."

"ahhh. but, why doesn't it float with air?"

"the balloon is heavier than the air."

younger girl: "unless you make a balloon out of air."
older one: "oh, and how would you do that"
younger: "you just gather up some air and quick squeeze some more air into it and wrap the air around it..."
older: "that wouldn't work"
younger: "it's called make believe"...

the passenger they were waiting for arrived and they left. i love me a good teaching/learning moment. pretty valid observation about the balloon string if ya ask me.

getting through security was the normal un/repack un/redress game, i passed, blah blah, we board, we sit. there we are, four coworkers and myself, all in aisle seats in five different rows. the plane was full, the air not circulating more than from every individual's lung power, getting stuffy and hot very quickly. the tour director, Jack, whom i will have for my tour starting here in fairbanks tomorrow, sat next to a minor flying solo. what a kick in the pants...he was probably seven or eight and freely chatting up Jack like he fully trusted anyone who was fortunate enough to sit next to him. he, Austin i think it was, explained to Jack all the super powers of Mario. finally the air started and electronic devices had to be put away for the safety demonstration by our flight attendants.



we were on a disney plane! and i like the clouds and the luggage caterpillar truck tutting along like its own disney ride. luggage handling, wheee.

as we taxied out from the gate, we stopped. our captain informed us we'd be going back to the gate to get a blacked out monitor fixed. this did two things. it took about 15 minutes of my life, and apparently it reset the flight attendants. they did their safety demonstration again -- wait, they didn't even get to how to use a seat belt before there was a long pause in the mindless speech (can we get a ukulele up in here!?) and then the speaking attendant's voice came back on, literally smiling, her voice was smiling, informing us that we would need to wait ten more minutes to put fuel in the aircraft.

this is when i leaned across the aisle to Ed, stuck my thumb out, down at the emergency light strips on the floor directing me to the nearest exit (possibly behind me) in case of emergency, and said, "airplane pre-trip fail".

Austin kept saying something like "i see the look on yo face" for most of this time. none of us knew why.

the Man put a quarter in the safety demonstration machine again and it started up from the beginning again. i mean, did we change planes when we changed that screen? and then again when we refueled? we all ignored the speech for the third time. though i often get a kick out of mainly the clothing of persons depicted in the pictures, still I disobeyed and didn't touch the safety card in the pocket in the upright seat back under the tray table in the locked position in front of me...

you know how sometimes the pilot says 'attendants secure for take off' or at least anything before take off? well, after the third safety speech we were suddenly surging down the runway, no warning. in the air.

i always find it interesting that I can see 'up' the plane during the ascent. we're all obviously still in the same straight line of seats, but the people in row 7 are higher than the people like me in row 22. we're level...but we're not. i like mildly trippy things like that.

and i love mount McKinley aka Denali



at some point the man in front of me (who, while boarding, had given me a 'look' that belongs in a bar i would never patronize even if i did drink) raised his right arm to stretch. as if the air circulation wasn't already stagnant, precisely then it was sapped entirely from existence. i gagged and somehow breathed out more than i breathed in while i snuck my camera behind his back...



our magical flight caught some awesome yogurt-blending stomach-bending turbulence while we arced toward fairbanks. our safety performers hardly had a chance to deliver water, snack and napkin before we were ready to land again. in fbanks it was warm and windy so when our lurching Disney ride came in for a landing I was a wincy bit anxious for it to come to a complete stop. As it did, the brakes made a spectacular groaning sound, the one you don't want to hear when you have limited air strip before you and five hundred miles an hour behind you...

anyway, i'm alive and unscathed. later i took a taxi to a restaurant with two other drivers, Ed and Kevin. i was craving some chips n salsa so we went mexican. i ordered the regular burrito. kevin went for the challenge.

mine



mine compared to the challenger. i didn't even finish mine. shoot. what a wimp. oh, well i did have my chips n salsa to start.



then we walked to Fred Meyer grocer. as Kevin shopped Ed and i made our way toward the restrooms. as i approached the women's restroom a man exited. a young man in a reflective neon vest. my narrowed eyes followed him through an employees only door. got it. walking into the restroom a loaded cleaning cart blocked the way. there was another guy in there. i asked if i should wait a minute. he said no go ahead. he stood behind his cart near the door. i chuckled as i realized he wouldn't be exiting the restroom. not gonna lie my bladder was shy at first. his buddy had rejoined him moments after my entry so i got to listen over the sound of my own pee how they mumbled in their nervous adolescent mutters just two stalls and a wall away. yeesh. i could see them behind me, reflected in the mirror as i washed my hands. wow. as i exited i remarked, 'this is your favorite job, huh.' the one made a noise as he awkwardly shifted, the other said, 'it puts gas in the tank.' yah. later boys.

well that's about it. silly insignificant moments to make a muser's day amusingly memorable.

M.I.AK

I haven't had internet very often since I've been in AK, but now I do. But I've been doing so many other webby things that now I don't really have time to say anything. But here are some pics, proof that I'm not truly missing, just having a blast!

(went on a quick free flight with coworkers. beautiful day!)

(9:20pm sun still way up)

(Denali/Mt. McKinley

(Halibut!)

(moose!)

Easter

Easter nowadays is eggstra commercialized. It kinda bothers me how the most special calendar days set for remembering Jesus Christ are so highly driven by consumerism that the true reason is forgotten. But, since I don't limit my celebration of Christ to a couple days a year -- I go to church every week, pray and read scripture every day, strive to be Christlike in happy moments and wearisome -- I feel okay indulging a little in tradition. But really only because I have nephews. And whenever I have kids of my own I will, too. Because I'll teach them to live the gospel with their hearts daily and then to have holiday fun for a day.

For Easter dinner my brother-in-law's mother invited us over to her house. We had her over for Thanksgiving last year and she had us over Sunday. It was great.

Scalloped potatoes, corn, salad, rolls, roast, ham, green beans (southern style--boiled w/ham); and for dessert cupcakes, lemon bars and strawberry...fluffy stuff. My mom mixed coolwhip, cream cheese, strawberry yogurt and a little strawberry jello and put it in edible chocolate cups. didn't get pics of those, but they didn't last long. yum!

We filled ourselves as well as one should fill themselves spiritually every day :)

The little kids started the event with an egg hunt in the back yard. My camera luckily captured some sweet pics!

"poorpuh" he does really well recognizing purple :)

Cameron saw Caleb racing around

So Cameron 'branched' out...bahaha...ok not funny. I liked the blossoms though and am glad the picture took before his face was fully behind that blossom clump.

Caleb got a lotta loot

And he made a Zelda treasure noise with his victory basket

So handsome

They each scored with a golden egg. All the eggs were plastic with candy and marshmallows inside.

I have no doubt that they don't get it. I don't think anyone gets it, most of all myself. Probably there were a couple of struggling farmers back at the dawn of commercialized Easter enjoying some unchristlike beverage at a local...spirits establishment.

"I always got too many pigs and rabbits come Spring."

"Heck, I got so many chickens you'd think they were rabbits!"

"Chickens as rabbits! Merl, you better put that drink down."

"Well, think about it, Chester, if we make up some...some ridiculous Easter Bunny magical creature, you can sell your rabbits and I can sell my chicks, and all those dozens and dozens of eggs. We'll be so rich we'll be seein' pale, pastel colors!"

"Merl, what the heck are you talkin' about? But hey, my ten kids are suckers for stuff like that, let's sell it to 'em. They'll tell all their friends a'school and their parents will come beggin' for our critters."

And with such an inception, the Easter traditions began to reproduce to what we have hoppening today.

I always knew my parents hid the eggs. I always knew they hid a basket of treats. I was truly amazed when I first heard of people reminiscing about believing in the Easter Bunny when they were little. Seriously? A rabbit that lays eggs, both plastic kinds filled with candy or colorful hard boiled? Yyyyeah. Can't April fool's this kid.

And now, for my favorite part of the season:

An Easter Declaration video with a scripture time line of Christ's last days on Earth.

I believe in the living Christ, with all my beating heart.

In the Unlikely Event

Were today to be my last of nearly twenty seven rich years of days on Earth, you should know that if you know me, I love you. I love everyone, which doesn't devalue the love I give, because love isn't that way. There is always and always more to give, it's a miraculous force. Like the heart. It is simply one size particular to each body, but it can always and ever fit more people inside it.

So I love you. True, I might love some more deeply than others, but that's human I guess. I always want what's best for you, even if that includes a hard day, but I'll root for you just as I would if I had stayed.

Today I'm wearing comfortable jeans, pearls adorn my neck and ears. Today is here, or more appropriately, I am here today and it's an occasion worthy of wearing the grinding hassle of oysters.

For all the struggles you and I have won, I wear these pearls for us. A beautiful day for a struggle, for a neighbor, for love.

Blossom Blizzard

Here in Utah, it's Tradition: just when the blossoms start popping, dump a million tons of snow!

I went back up on the roof again (first time was to clean snow out of the satellite dish) this time to capture the perfect beauty of this view

Dr Seuss couldn't have done better

And I built a snowman on the roof. I just couldn't help myself.

Now, before you go judging me for building it on the Sabbath, let me point out that it's specifically a snowman angel

I think my sculpture teacher should give me extra credit. wait, nevermind. then it would be like doing homework on sunday.... :)

And it can be seen from inside our home. Our guardian snow angel.

Boo winter

Lessons Learning

Down to my final $200 last week, I made the necessary goal to not buy any fast food or quick bites to nourish myself during the week. I succeeded easily and it was Friday where I learned a simple, great lesson that I can see as being applicable to all goals or efforts to resist temptation. :)

I need to eat. In truth, I could eat breakfast, go the whole day and not eat until dinner again (kinda like on my mission. Don't recall anymore how I pulled that off..cuz I'm such a hunger wimp these days!) but, well, as I just said parenthetically, I'm a hunger wimp these days. So, my goal presented a possible problem: starvation.

I bought a few sandwich items at the beginning of the week and took a little time before work or school to pack myself a little lunch: sandwich, granola bar, chips (Food Should Taste Good Sweet Potato chips y.u.m.) and some whatever else inhabits my mothers fridge. My preparation met my goal and solved my problem. Wait, let me line break for emphasis.

My preparation met my goal and solved my problem. It solved two or three problems really. 1) I saved moolah (and fortunately have since had a pay day and a tax return, huzzah). 2) I ate healthier. 3) I didn't starve!

I realized that this small effort of preparation allowed for dodging the later temptation of buying insta-food to satisfy my mortal hunger. I'll always get hungry. I'll need food to cure it.

You and I may always have certain trials or temptations in mortality. They may never be removed because there will always be an element of teaching in them for our own good. If such is suspected to be our personal case, we can prepare to have a 'home lunch' already packed for when the yearnings or pains come, begging for satisfaction. If we are disciplined beforehand we can become healthier and wealthier and maybe stealthier, just because that's a fun word...

But, today, an experience very telling of my character, I promptly disregarded this "learned" lesson. The lesson has another application, in the story of The Cut Finger.

I am working on becoming inspired for my final sculpture project, and yesterday I stopped by a Thrift Store going out of business (think D.I. + yard sale + Wizard of Oz II), browsing for things until something spoke to me. There was a bucket of tiny, dark-glass, wide neck jars sitting with all its might, contents sparkling in the cherished Spring sunlight. I saw them and, like Dorothy, knew there was more therein than met my eye. We chose each other in that moment; we were both sold. The bucket for $2 and I for the creative potential energy...

The bucket, true to function, had stored up about a gallon of rain water as it waited patiently for me to come. Judging by the slight algae smell and coloration of the bucket, that could have been some time. Many of the small jars were broken and all were dirty so I set out to separating the useful from the deadly and broken. Did I know there was broken glass in the bucket? To say anything but yes would be depressing, so yes, of course. Did I prepare for the inevitable bite of busted blade? Nope.

The jars on top, mostly whole and dry, I could clearly see. With bare and conscious hands I slowly and carefully plucked the fragments from the whole, clearing toward the murky water below. Like the zebra at the disgusting croc-filled watering hole, desperate for life sustaining fluid yet wary of death inflicting jaws of..death, my hand dipped gently into the filth. And like the croc, the glass attacked without warning (excepting the five minutes previous to this moment...)

Unlike the Zebra usually gets to, I instantly whipped my finger free, plunged it under fresh water, applied soap and a Bandaid to the seeping red sliver, and prayed I wasn't now host to some horrific disease.

Why do I let myself get hurt before I remember to supply the protection? I put my hand into one of those rubber gloves (in which I always imagine a spider or earwig has found a cheery home) and continued the task without fear.

I was sticking my hand into a bucket of broken glass! One wears at least one glove. Before. Hand.

But that is, unfortunately, so "me." La di da di da, I'm going to see how close I can get to this cliff before I consider my safety. Stupid. I've fallen off many an obvious cliff because I regarded it as a test of my character instead of a temptation from which to run. Quickly.

The best test or proof of your character often is how fast you can run from temptation. Prepare to run. Prepare to eat. Put a glove on before you reach into a bucket of glass shards. Pretty basic advice.

And now, Gabriella.

This darling angel has been my buddy every now and again recently. She is a third child, like myself. Her mother says she is a very good baby, sleeps well, doesn't fuss much, just loves to live. My mom said the same about me. So she and I are natural friends.

She wears cute clothes. Including these. I may or may not have squealed.

I love babies. Even when they turn into kids. And then attend junior high. And make it through high school. I'm getting old enough now where I can call high school kids kids...And probably old enough to have some of my own. Please.

And this was the thoughtful 1st of April prank (if you could even call it that, though you'd more likely call it an April Fool's joke..) from some girlfriend to hopefully-still-her-somewhat-amused-but-patiently-suffering boyfriend.

And the end. I so hope I don't have a disease...

I moved. What Else is New.

So, I sat down and thought. Often, sitting is the best position for thinking. Think about it. Haven't you done some of your best thinking on the toilet? Don't you do most of or much of your homework or work or busyness or creating while sitting? And do you not drive in a sitting position and enjoy wonderful dexterity of mind? Indeed, and in thought. So, thus sitting, I realized that in the past three years I have resided in...Provo (mom's house and Alta apartments) Pleasant Grove, Provo, Canada, Provo, Alaska, West Jordan and just the other day (March 19 to be exact) I defaulted back to Provo yet again. Before I go to Alaska yet again.

The moving party consisted of three manly volunteers, two from my West Jordan ward and another who used to be my home teacher in the Alta ward (he shall be named O'Neil). They packed approximately twenty apple boxes, four pillows and one alligator into two cars, mine and O'Neil's, and I returned and packed my own car once more with all the things I would be needing until and in Alaska. Much appreciation, men.

O'Neil is a fantastic specimen of men. Here, let us dissect him. When he enters a place, immediately the positive energy of said place increases a hundred fold. One can't help but be delighted by his presence and drawn into pleasant and easy conversation with him. Even the shy children instantly take to him, which is a great quality. He is hilarious. Basically he could kill me every day with laughter wounds inflicted by his sharp wit... He could be scary, what with his six-five/six height and great big hands, but he's just too darn cheery to even hint toward intimidation. He was a stellar home teacher and I can only imagine is still quite consistent in his church service because it just shows; he happily served a mission, happily goes to school, happily fills his shifts at a hospital as a chaplain (i know, random, right?), volunteers for many things, happily, and just lives in a contagiously happy way. He's a fabulous sort.

My mom cleared a tunnel in her sewing room for me to burrow into until I mine my way North to the Last Frontier. It's cramped, dusty, haunted by costumes of halloween past and the makings of every possible costume of halloween future...but the stiff mattress is softer than the concrete under the carpet AND it's actually long enough for my slumbering bod. Countin' my blessings. My fabric cave is in the basement, so it's nice and dark...which means the sun never wakes me and I occasionally dismiss my alarm and thus miss my 8am class, like today.

My 8am class is beginning sculpture. I like it. Right now we're sculpting eyes, ears, mouths and noses (replicas of Michaelangelo's David) using oil-based clay. Here's a picture of the nose I did:

Recently I've been sick and all the while that I was molding this nose I was sniffling with my own. And I found it strange picking the nostrils to clear them out. And by the end it was looking so much like the actual nose of a person, I nearly felt nosy all up in his or her stolen facial component. okay okay, enough with the nose jokes. they stink.

And here's a snake (abstraction) I carved out of plaster!

Tried to make him look coiled in his own special way...

I went for a sort of 'jester' pattern for the scaly effect

And for an 'under belly' lined texture here

My dad helped me (in other words completely did it for me) put the step pattern in the base. No one else really did their base different. Bonus genious-points for me.

Isn't it so cool? Well, I think it. Still haven't decided what to name him. My lil sis said "Jerry", with a French accent. I thought "Señor" since he looks all Aztecy. Your submissions will be considered.

Well, now there's really nothing more to say except that it is extremely windy outside and I jumped on the trampoline. I've mentioned this before here and here so I obviously have a true and abiding love for this activity...even if it mostly just proves how out of shape my aging body is. two and a half months until I'm 27. hm.

tick tock

I'm like, really clever right now. One of those moods, you know? Where everything clicks and fantastic puns are born, witty jokes drip down like a refreshing rain, etc. But I'm sick and tired. Physically. So I'm going to bed. It's a real shame to waste this magical moment of humorous charm when so generously bestowed.

In an hour it will be two hours from now. Shifty.

Serendipitous Day

I'm most excited that my rose pink shirt and this pink rose that some random guy in the hall gave me are the exact same color.

(And thank goodness the Orem LDS institute committee knows proper grammar. I appreciate.)