Alcoholics and Indians

First a story. I saw Indians in Jerusalem. They were singing and carry a cross along the Via Dolorosa. Fascinating. They wore what I would consider to be traditional Hindu clothing. I never would have expected to see such a sight in my life.

On the Sabbath we discussed part of Mosiah in Sunday School.  My family did wonders for me. I've learned so much from all of them. A few lessons had to be taught to me by friends. I am often amazed by the lessons I had to learn from friends either because my family didn't teach them or I refused to learn specific lessons from my family. In Mosiah chapter 4 verses 17 and 18 it says, "Perhaps thou shalt say: The man has brought upon himself his misery; therefore I will stay my hand, and will not give unto him of my food, nor impart unto him of my substance that he may not suffer, for his punishments are just—but I say unto you, O man, whosoever doeth this the same hath great cause to repent; and except he repenteth of that which he hath done he perisheth forever, and hath no interest in the kingdom of God." This makes me think of alcoholics and drug addicts mostly.

Growing up I was shown that it was okay to give a stranger food but not money. This was logical because giving food ensured feeding someone, helping them, but money could allow someone to commit evil, to further their addictions and sins. That is honestly not what this verse teaches. Specifically what stood out to me this weekend was "nor impart unto him of my substance that he may not suffer." It is a double negative. So if you do not give to someone in order to prevent their suffering you are still in the wrong. Even if you assume they are going to use your gift to shoot up you should still give. That is hard for me to accept because I wish no evil on anyone. It is hard because I was never shown how to give so freely without caring about the consequence.

That is one of many reasons I love Claire so much. So was the first person I knew who could give money without any expectation. We were driving out of Safeway one bright, sunny day and a man was asking for money by the bank. We were stopped behind a couple cars. She handed me a few dollars and asked me to give it to the man. I was shocked. This was not something I was raised to do. But I did it for her. We talked about it a bit later. This darling showed me in simplicity how peaceful it is to give without expectation, to not let my right hand know what my left hand is doing.

One day in Sacramento I was filling my car with gas and a young man came up to me asking for anything. I had some coins in my pocket from buying lunch so I gave it to him. No second thought or doubt. A man approached me afterwards and told me what an evil thing I had just done. He informed me that I was damaging that young man in multiple ways by making him dependent on charity and drugs. I had not real response. I just felt like I had done the right thing. I saw the same young man asking for money many times after that and gave what I had to give. It always felt alright.

In reflecting I think my reasons follow as such. I could never be sure what the young man used the money for. He stayed alive for at least the several months I lived near him so some of it must have gone for his sustenance. If he stays alive then time improves his opportunities to change. That means a lot because I can think of plenty of reasons I should have been put down already. Miracles and medicine have enabled me to change and improve myself so I'm worth living. I guess that is one reason I believe there is a God and try to follow Christ. I know someone is watching out for me and wants me to improve. I'm really thankful to that person.

Jerusalem, If I Forget You

Let my right hand forget what its supposed to do.

I'm here. It's real. Everything. All the rumors. I couldn't be happier. At least I assume I could not be happier at this moment with the circumstances I'm limited to at this stage in my life. I could have a kitten to snuggle with tonight and ice cream in a cone. But those are temporal pleasures. Okay, the ice cream is a temporal pleasure.

I've decided I am going to get high grades in all my classes. I want to study. I want to be informed and do research. They give us an enormous amount of time for everything we need to do. Which is nice because all I want to do is play and explore. Just yesterday we found a door that leads underneath the center. It had bullet holes in it.

On Monday of this week I attended a long orientation meeting concerning the final preparations for Jerusalem. I found out that the clothes I had planned on bringing would not be sufficient so that night I went shopping and underspent on every item I thought I needed. I was pleased. I even for pants that fit well. I was greatly pleased. I went to sleep around midnight with the plan to finish packing at two or three am.

On Tuesday at two am I awoke to a great pain in my stomach. On the way the bathroom (because I assumed I was going to throw up) I discovered a sudden urge to go No. 2. Upon arriving at the bathroom I was surprised to find that I stressed myself into having diarrhea. Details will stop there. Not a pleasant way to awake as I did throw up afterwards. Finding myself still in pain I retired back to bed and slept for a couple more hours. I packed from four to seven and left. I met up with Dwight Bellingham, a friend from my mission, and we travelled to the airport together. The flights were great. We played trivia on one flight and I watched movies on the other. The first flight left at 11 am on Tuesday. I arrived in Tel Aviv on Wednesday at 2 pm, or 5 am in Provo.

We had orientations and tours for the next couple days. Delightful. I feel some of my faith in religious classes will be restored. There are 58 girls and 21 guys in the group this semester. We're athletic and beautiful and intelligent. People ask questions in class! Good, thoughtful, earnest questions. I am so happy.

I've been late to two meetings and confronted by security twice as well. I promise I am doing nothing wrong. I'm just adventuring. We were coming home last night and I came in through a door with a group. Well, the door had been propped open by a spoon. Right as I opened it a security came around the corner and asked me what was going on. Of course I was honest, but it was certainly very suspicious.

Today we had church. It was nice. Sacrament on the Sabbath (of the Jews) was interesting. I'll enjoy it really. I finally finished and copied down several poems I wrote many moons ago. I'll post one here tomorrow probably. It's a favorite. I thought of the concept almost a year ago and finally wrote it a month ago (I think). We went to the Orson Hyde Memorial Garden this evening. A big group. Our journey involved several wrong turns and asking directions from a stranger. He suggested we walk down a valley and then climb through a whole in the fence. Well, we never found a fence on the bottom of the valley. We later realized his directions were a shortcut that involved hiking up the side of the valley wall and the fence was up there. I spooked a dog while walking towards an abandoned house in the valley. Neat little structure. It used the natural overhang of the wall for three sides and the roof. We found the Garden of Gethsemane on the way but it had closed shortly before we arrived. In the Orson Hyde Memorial Garden we found a group of Mormon tourists, two young Palestinians smoking hasheesh from a hookah (a very pleasant blend. Sweet but not overpowering), and a Palestinian family having a barbeque. The last group invited us over but I think most everyone felt awkward because they spoke little English and almost no one speaks any Arabic. I was able to wish them a good night though. It felt good. It was obvious that my Egyptian Arabic is much different than Levantine (I'm assuming) Arabic. When we got home we found a group of young boys playing soccer. They asked if we would play with them and a couple guys said yes. I stuck around and we had some good fun. Our field was tiny, about as big as a bedroom. Once we won Ahmed (one of the kids) said "one more, one more." Then after that point he said "one more, one more." And the same after that point. And the same after that point. :) It was a lot of fun. Very fun kids. And honestly, some of the kids here must be some of the most beautiful children I've ever seen. Soft curly locks and gentle smiles adorn handsome faces and fit bodies. I'm really enjoying it here.

Puppy Love Angry Love

Many moons ago I was experiencing some difficulty with a companion and mentioned it to my parents. Well, my mother used it as a chance to write to my companion and explain to him that I am "sometimes difficult to love." I was kinda wondering why she would think that. Kinda harsh for a mom to say that about you... But I agree. Here is why.

Apart from the many forms of love (friendship, competition, beauty/nature, etc) I feel there are two kinds of intimate, romantic love. Puppy love and something higher that I have not yet decided how to define exactly yet so it will be angry love for now.

Puppy love is how I feel about puppies. Puppies are so cute and innocent that I just love having them around. I would enjoy having puppies around me pretty much all the time. They make me smile. Always. I have no evidence of an exception. I am gentle with puppies because I want them to like me back. There is just something about puppies that calms me down and makes me want to play. I see most relationships being here. This type of love is necessary in a relationship and I think most true loves start with this kind. Its innocence and pleasure is what makes us love love. This love expresses itself in sweet nothings, pranks, cuddles/wrestles, flowers "just because," making dinner together, long walks where nothing is said, and catching a duck for your girlfriend (my roommate actually did this for his fiancee before they were engaged).

Angry love requires some more depth. I do not see it as any better, more natural, or longer lasting. It is simply different and used differently. Puppy love I think is limited in its emotional variety. Puppy love is happy and excited. I cannot get mad at a puppy. I can be frustrated at a puppy, but it does not last long. If it makes a mess I clean it up and am happy again. Angry love can experience the full realm of emotions. It often grows as a result of time of presence. The more time we spend around someone the more comfortable we become. We are better able to communicate with and understand that person. So we let them see more and more of our emotions: tears, fears, and anger. Eventually we should reach a point that we could be angry with someone and not leave, because we still love them. Our emotions are simply expressed in a less favorable way. We still feel very strongly for them. This is a wonderful place to be because it means two people can argue without fear of offending the other. This allows them to build each other up, teach each other, and grow together.

I think one of the reasons I am so "difficult to love" sometimes is that it is very hard to hate me. I am akin to puppies: gentle, cute, and playful. Yes, I will make messes and mistakes, but it is really hard to get angry at me about them. I do disappoint and give people every reason to genuinely get angry at or hate me. But the next time I will see you I treat it as if nothing bad ever happened. I am genuinely sorry for my mistakes and want you to teach me how to be better. Unfortunately, this has not given many people the chance to see if they could be angry with me and has not solidified my relationship with those individuals to include both kinds of romantic (or flirty or friendship) loves.

But, for those individuals who have taken the time to try to hate me (who have simply stuck around long enough for me to seriously disappoint or harm them), I feel extremely loved and like my relationship with them is beautiful for it. We are gemstones within the ground. If you do not like the rain of sadness or life's buffings how do you expect to be cleansed and shined? Relationships are the same.