Loneliness

Perhaps it's funny for me to say it, but I'm much better at problems that involve logic than those involving emotion. And this emotional problem kinda has me stumped.

Growing up I didn't generally care much for companionship. I honestly was quite content to spend hours on end listening to music, solving puzzles, thinking, and reading. But I guess somewhere...rather recently... that's changed.

As funny as it is, I am discovering a new emotion for me. Not just loneliness since I have had cause to miss people when we've been separated by location or otherwise. Those times, I missed that specific person so much, it hurt. And the closer I get to certain people, the harder the time apart is.

But this time isn't quite like that. This time... I guess I wish anyone was here. This time I don't just miss someone, I am quite simply lonely for human contact in general.

It's difficult because I'm not quite sure what I need or why I feel this way. As stated, this is a new experience.

It helped a little to listen to a friend on the phone, but as soon as we hung up, the loneliness was there again. And same thing with my roommate. I liked listening to her, but then when I was alone, I felt hungry for interaction once more.

Why do I feel this way now? I mean, I know I'm not ever really alone, so why do I long for another voice?

Ink and Erasers

Just had an "ah-hah" moment with the violin similar to one I had with drawing.

You see, a violin mute is like an eraser. Your mistakes aren't quite so jarring to the senses when you are playing with the mute on or when you are drawing in pencil. It gives you some degree of fixability if you mess up at least until you are more confident.

But with drawing, I had one wise teacher that told me it was great for me to draw in pencil while I was in that stage before I knew how to really draw. But then he suggested that if I really wanted to improve, I should start using pen or ink and quill.

I was hesitant, but he had known just what to say, because, golly...I really wanted to improve and learn. So after a bit, I tried it.

At first it was okay. I first tried to go slower and not mess up at all to compensate for the lack of eraser. But no matter how hard I tried, I would always, at some point, make a mistake. Still, since I went slow and was careful, it was all right.

But then, as I wanted to do and learn more, it became harder. You see, you can't start something new without mistakes and now my power to erase was gone. That was the really hard time. I switched back to pencil and then pen and then pencil. Not wanting my mistakes in ink, but still able to feel that having that eraser there was a crutch to my progress. And not a crutch I needed anymore.

Finally, I got frustrated and started to go quickly in ink, not looking at my mistakes, but simply pressing forward by instinct alone. Ironically, it was just the lesson I was supposed to learn, the one I learned right after that roughest of patches.

And that was I needed to see my mistakes to learn from them because only by learning from them would I be able to expand onto greater things. And also, I needed to see my mistakes to know them and be comfortable with them because that was the only way I was able to accept the art that was coming from inside me instead of the art I wanted to come from inside me.

With the violin, it was the same. I used the mute, but my progress was stagnating. So, I took it off and had the worst and best practice I've had yet.

Now if I could only apply this to life more than I am. I feel there's a lesson there that I haven't quite gotten yet.

Closeness

I think it is time for me to start thinking on something I have taken for granted.

It's wonderful. That feeling you have when you want to be close to someone. Wonderful to be near and terrible to be away.

What makes that happen? Why is it that someone who I am close to only has to say my name or look at me to make my heart backflip into my stomach? Why is it that every critisism from anyone else does not strike me, yet theirs stabs straight to the core.

Why is it when I'm with this person, everything seems new and wonderful and exciting? As if I were a young child once more? And why, when they leave can I not seem to bear it?

And yet, I am who I am. I hold them to the highest standards as I do myself. And usually, they make it with flying colors. But why do I test them? Why do I question the feelings that are so obviously there?

If I wish to live in a world of logic, why is it that logic cannot satisfy this hunger? Why is it that I drop everything to hear them or be with them.

It doesn't make sense if I really am more intellectual than emotional. Yet, I do it every time.

Is this love? Is this friendship? Is there a difference past a certain point?

How is it I go on a hike to get answers and end up mostly basking in the person's voice. Soaking it in as if I can hear them when I'm lonely if this time I listen hard enough...

How is it that my mind points one way and my heart the other? Yet, I can't move forward. I can't seem to ignore that part, no matter how I try. And I know as soon as we meet again, I will melt. What good do my logic and ethics do me then?

Which am I to follow?

Warriors of Prayer

Tonight, I went to a concert by David Harsh at the E-Free church.

And I had a wonderful "ah-hah" moment there that I needed right then.

Here's the song that did it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7h6X0SRmyxo&feature=related

And I realized that I had been tricked into thinking I was immune. "I am good. I know how to avoid really bad things. I'll be fine on my own. I don't have to worry about the adversary."

And with those thoughts, he crept back in to my life. I didn't realize it until tonight. Until I was freed from that weight, I didn't realize what I was carrying.

Now I understand the war. And I don't intend to stop fighting this time. Ever.

Symphony

Plays, concerts, movies, dance nights, dinners... you name it and it's going on all over Bozeman. Sometimes it's quite a challenge just do decide what to choose to go to.

Well, last night I volunteered for the Bozeman Symphony as an usher. You get to see people, dressed up and starry-eyed, excited to enjoy a wonderful fine art and a night displaying the talented musicians and what can be done when an orchestra works together.

I, myself, was blown away by what they did. Eyes opened or closed, I was in another world entirely. A world of music, of light and flashes of silver, bronze, and white. It's hard to explain, but when the music is that good, it feels like I can really think. Like my mind opens up and at the same time, nothing can distract me. A feeling I don't really get elsewhere.

It was while I was thinking during the last piece, that an analogy came to me. I felt the strong urge to be one of the performers up there. Not for glory or money (hah!) but simply to be part of making something so... beautiful, majestic...heavenly, I suppose. I wanted to be a part of it, so badly, that I began asking myself, "How would I go about that?"

Of course, you would ask the director.

And that's where the analogy started. I realized then that the conductor is the one who tells each person to come in, back off, grow louder... everything really. And this director was also the judge of whether or not each part was played in accordance with his plan. Also, he was the one who planned it because at this particular performance, they were playing some songs he wrote.

I imagined God in that place and each instrument section as a religion. Each had their part to play in the grand sound, and each was "worshipping" in the capacity which they could be the best they could be.

But everyone was playing for the same team. Sure, until they came together, they won't know what sound the director had already envisioned, but they played with faith. And the result was magnificent.

I wanted to be up there too. So, what instrument does he want me to play? I sent out to the air. What do I play?

But as long as I trust the director, I can live with not knowing until I'm already playing. It was just learning to humble myself enough to play with the rest of the orchestra.

Unassuming

I was excited. This last hike with my friend something came up that I had wanted to bring up, but couldn't find the words before.

I had wanted to thank her. Not just for answering my questions, but also for a quality that I was finding was far more rare than I had given credit at first.

It was as we were walking back down the hills that she mentioned, "I have tried really hard to not assume. When I heard you were LDS, I, of course, had heard generally what they believed, but I tried really hard to not bring that in. Instead I always tried to ask you what they believed."

This was just the thing I had been trying to get into words. That quality that makes it much harder to be ignorant. I had even tried the day before to explain to someone else why I didn't like what they were doing when it was along those lines.

Basically, as I put it to my friend on the hike, "They had some things right and some things wrong, so I'm thinking, 'Look. I don't care if you don't agree with the religion; I just want you to be accurate about what you're disagreeing with!' " She found it amusing, but it was the truth. I wished that more people were like my friend and would consciously ask before assuming. There'd be a lot less hate in the world.

Grace

I just barely got the concept or implications of this today and it's blowing me away. In some intellectual part of my mind, there was an understanding of the Atonement... but now I see that I had missed the main point of it all.

I didn't get that the only way is through Christ. I didn't understand that not only is this plan important, it's vital. That the only way to escape eternal death is through Christ.

It's the knowing Him and believing in him that gets us across. Before I thought He'd catch me when I fall, but that is only the most vague impression of this concept. Like a mirror representing a lake or a picture representing a lifetime of memories. I finally understand the immensity of my misconception. The concept of grace is about enough to blow my mind. And at the same time, its so simple. The only way to God is through Him. Its that simple.

But at the same time, I see that I am unworthy. Here I was amazed that he'd catch my falls, but now I see that without him, even a mistake could be the sin that rewards death. Even the ones that I had no idea about...and then add in the things that I do...and knowingly even. I can hardly take it in.

And He didn't deserve it. Its such a great gift that I hesitate to accept it, except that's what He wants. It is a gift that can only be realized in its acceptance.

You know what. I must have the coolest brother ever. ;~)

Trust

Really good question. Really good answer. Proverbs 3:5-6

Application. Well, that's the part I struggle with.

To be a good friend, you need to learn honor the person's requests.

To be a best friend, you need to learn when to blatantly ignore what they're saying and do what's really best for them.

Courtyard Music

Another small prayer answered.

This evening I was sprawled on the bed, lacking any real motivation to do anything beyond throw myself a little pity party. It's not a usual occurrence for me, this "seeing the dark in every picture" deal. And during this time, the Holy Ghost was whispering, "listen to some music. Listen to music. It's what you need to be strong again." I knew it was right with some intuitive part of my spirit, yet, I ignored it. It was far too much effort to reach over and turn on the music. "Why not just lie here in your misery,"another voice whispered, and being in the state I was, I did not recognize the voice of the adversary for what it was. I heeded the second voice.

Yet in my heart, I still cried out. Some part of me wanted to break free and see the light and love of the world again.

And He heard.

Not even a few minutes later, I heard some noise coming from my window. At first, I turned away and tried to ignore it, for often there are loud partiers in the courtyard. But something in me woke up and I turned back around to hear. The noise was quiet, but there was something about it that lightened my heart. As the spell was unraveled, I woke from my dreary non-rest and heard the very song the Holy Ghost had asked me to listen to earlier.

Someone, I don't know who, was playing the guitar and singing in the courtyard. How she knew what song to play, I'm not sure. But that my prayer was answered despite my own weakness...that I am sure about.

I was sitting up by the end of the song and she had gone by the time I was up. Made me think He had sent an angel to sing, just for me in that one moment. And for that I am grateful.