Fighting

Earlier this week I saw three fights on the same day. It was Sunday and we had decided to get up early so we could go to the Dome of the Rock. Well, we did not know that they only opened breakfast at 7:30 (when we wanted to leave) so we ended up getting a group together and leaving at 8:15am. So we arrived at the line for the done at 8:45. It opens at 8 (when we wanted to arrive), so the line was very long. A group of students had arrived earlier than us so I went up to talk to them. Some of their group had to leave so we tried switching with them. The people behind them did not approve of this idea and accused us of cutting in line and were very direct in their opinions. I apologized that their opinions were different than ours, because I felt that we had done nothing wrong. Well, the argument just seemed to continue. Honestly, I think no one had anything better to do. Seems like a silly reason to argue. But I continued to jab with them. Eventually it was boring and I knew I would go back to the group I arrived with. At that point I just wanted to get to know a stranger. They would have nothing to do with it. No information about their native language, homeland, or anything about them or their trip. Quite a shame really. I hoped I could appease at least something and not ruin their experience in a holy place. Actually, that was what made me feel the worst about the whole engagement, Matthew 5:23-25. I didn't see them again and feel no way to reconcile myself.

After everyone was cleared from the temple mount at 11am we went to the Austrian Hospice for lunch. It is a beautiful building designed to assist pilgrims from Austria and Germany. It was a lovely church inside. Several pillars and levels adorn the outside for people to study and eat. Quite nice. As we were leaving I saw a group of young boys. The six or seven of them looked to be between the ages of 6 and 10. Two of the older ones were pushing each other around. A few shekel coins fell to the ground. Food in a bag was involved. I couldn't tell what was going on but it did not seem friendly and eventually the boy with the bag of food left and everyone else stayed there.

We went to the Israeli Art Museum (and only got through a third of the exhibits) and then walked for a couple hours back home. We got gelato on the way and talked with a couple from New York. Then as we were passing Old Jerusalem, Damascus Gate to be exact, I saw two men in their twenties or early thirties fighting. Their faces mixed between rage and smile so quickly I could hardly tell whether something bad was going to happen. Well, jokingly one of them picked up a metal dolly over his head as if he was going to throw it at the other man. They both started laughing and he put it down. As he was putting it down the old man next to him (to whom the dolly belonged. It looked as if the old man had transported the goods he was selling down the steps with the dolly) punched him in the face. Seriously. Right in his face. The young man reacted with a look of "well that seemed kind of extreme but I guess I deserved it..."

In other news, I was a stowaway yesterday. We had a field trip. Our schedule said it would start at 8am. It started at 7:30am. No big deal. Plenty of time to get ready. Well, right before we were supposed to leave I realized I forgot something in my room so I ran down to my room. Then I realized I forgot my key. So I ran up six flights of stairs to my roommate and borrowed his key. I ran back down. I ran back up, this time laden with two lunches and my backpack. I arrived at my bus as it was leaving. The other class (we are divided into two classes for ease of taking care of everyone. 40 people to a class) was still waiting on their bus and I just walked on. Well...that wasn't supposed to happen. And two people got left behind. And I was just sitting in the back. About twenty minutes into the ride, just listening to administrators talking and realizing I had to make my prescence known if I didn't want the center's security looking for me, I knew I was in trouble. It all worked out. I saw Bedouin women making carpets and several tels before going on a hike through and then up a valley. It was a wonderful day. Even unintentionally I can sneak past people very well apparently.

Anger

Rage rolles o'er a young man out of control,
Releasing his role; he rains in anger.
A light too right to fight reveals the hole;
Her loss lost him. He now faces danger.

Fear flows from the man o'erbearing, too bold.
Enforcing his role, he reigns in anger,
A dark, so stark, taking lights old and cold.
Their loss helps him last. He carries danger.

Peace pours through the old man whose eye is light.
Accepting his role, he reins in anger.
Lighter loads, in and out, keep bright his sight.
Darkness lost at last, he sees no danger.

Within your eyes, is light or dark what you see?
Of three paths, it's your choice which to be.

Flawless or Perfect?

Yesterday I could have told you what sparked this thought but not today. I do not remember.

Yesterday I had a falafel. It was glorious. A bit of crunch before the soft center with sauce and french fries (I do not know why it had french fries but I could not complain) within a pita. Delightful. I also went to the Pools of Bethesda. Not the most spectacular place, but still very beautiful. The architecture is quite lovely. The church was the best part. According to legend, it is the birthplace of Mary the mother of Jesus. As I toured the interior a group of French tourists began singing hymns. If you have never sung in a stone cathedral before then change. It is a spectacular event. Even if you do not think you can sing well, get a group together and chant or sing some song of praise. It is a powerful moment.

Flawless and perfect are not the same adjectives. My explanation is simple, but I feel the main purpose of this is to encourage you to use your words correctly, especially when describing yourself and God. To be flawless is to be without flaw but to be perfect is to fit your role completely. One is upon the hands of the creator and the other deals with purpose.

A table can be carved and assembled flawlessly but might not be perfect for a room (for reasons of style or fit or whatever). A puppy, full of dirty and staining flaws, might be the perfect gift for a child. It is difficult to create something flawlessly. It is almost impossible to create a flawless organism. And chances are that the creature will create flaws in itself. I figure that is where I fit. I may have been created flawlessly but my choices have flawed me. To create something perfect is a might be even more difficult. Again, easier with inert objects. Measurements, drawers, mirrors, and gadgets define a perfect vanity. A vanity might only be perfect for a specific situation though. Creatures, people especially, can change and apply to multiple situations, becoming more perfected than a simple construct because their perfection applies more often. Flawlessness is determined by creator and defined by critics. Perfection is determined and defined by the user.

So how could I become flawless? First, I would have to choose to be flawless, because I'm my own critic. Then I would have to choose whose opinions define my value. Then I would have to be recreated. And I do not think it could stop with a physical recreation. Though I imagine it takes a lot of time to reorganize a mind and redefine a soul.

How could I become perfect? I would have to be used and determine who can use me. Then I would have to fulfill their needs. Wow. That seems like a lot actually. To be applied in the correct and best way for any given situation would be complete perfection. I can think of tiny, short-lived perfections I've enjoyed in my own life and in other's. I have said exactly the right thing at the right time. It felt like my entire life had built up to that moment so I would be the right person in the right place with the right relationship with a single person. Twenty-two years for one perfect sentence. Ridiculous.

So how does God do it? Can I mean flawless and perfect while saying "it?" I do not know the answer to either question. To be honest, I sometimes imagine a God with flaws so I can relate. My finite stature and sight leads in that direction. And for God to have enough experience and understanding to be completely perfect seems outrageous. I fully accept that none other understands me as well as my creator. But life is so complicated. How could one person be the right person every time? Then I ask if Jesus Christ is the right person for everyone. I honestly think that He can be, but most people need to be prepared for that though. I needed preparation before I enjoyed curry. I genuinely think curry is the most delicious food and that everyone can like curry, but your mouth and stomach (and intestines) must be prepared for the experience.

Remember, perfection is defined by the user. The user must feel something is perfect for it to be true.

Student Elections

I was reading in the local newspaper a couple days ago (unfortunately I didn't keep it so I will speak in fake political parties so I do not get names incorrect. They will be the Bold party and the Balloon party) The article most surprising to me concerned student elections at local universities. Four universities had primarily Bold party members in their student governments, but during recent elections the Balloon party took over the student government of these four universities. Using this as precedence, members of the national legislature were encouraging the prime minister to change one of his advisors, a member of the Bold party, to a member of the Balloon party.

AMAZING!!! Seriously, I have such a hard time accepting the fulness of this. Imagine this. American universities give actual meaning to student governments by having students choose an actual party to represent. While in office those students are able to discuss and suggest policies to their party. While they will not enforce political policy on the university, they will use their party's resources to run. The results of elections will be compiled across the country to inform politicians of the future of American politics. Because students will be the majority of future voters (I realize they do not represent all of America, but they are a very important group for policy makers) current politicians can see what issues will become pivotal and what parties will be favored in a few years. This could change American politics and give a stronger voice to students. If students feel important then they will become more involved. Also, it can end the mass dissatisfaction with student governments if treated respectfully.

I would love this idea. I do not know how to introduce it in such a large nation. But I want to.

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.