big red couch

The other day my folks came up to visit and we watched a bit of the news before going to grab a bite to eat. Right now, the only seating downstairs is a really dirty old brown couch whose pillows and cushions are sunken in. It also only seats 3 comfortably. You can fit 4 on there, but your knees start to slightly touch - you know, that "Why are you touching me?" kind of feeling that creeps in and makes you wildly out your element kind of knees touching.

So Mrs. Sixline and I wanted to purchase a sectional. Furniture store prices: $1200. Creepy salesman in converted garage warehouse discount furniture store price: $900. Craiglist/Classified Ads price: $350. We went with the final option. AND, to all you penny-pinchers out there, we took this directly out of savings and did not financially compromise ourselves in the slightest.

So now there's a humongous red sectional downstairs. It's fabric and not microfiber. If the sweet old lady who sold me the couch is to be believed, the couch was show furniture in a model home that sat in the same spot in front of the window for 3 years. Long time to have a model home, I know. So anyway, it's faded as all get out but I'm sure my intelligent and prodigious wife will find a way to re-dye the furniture. There's zero stains, wear and tear marks, and no sagging at all to the cushions. It's not completely comfortable because you really need an ottoman to go with it, so I'm sure we'll be scouring Overstock.com or the same classified ads to find it. Loading up the couch into my truck was a joy- because Mrs. Sixline is expecting, I did the whole thing myself.

So now we have to find out whether or not we want to keep the brown turd, how we'll re-arrange, and whether or not that TV will end up mounted to the wall. (More than likely yes. Anyone got any pointers on mounting those things? I don't want to buy a $120 mount only to find out it blocks where I connect cables.

oh no, i suck again!

I kept putting it off and I never registered to vote.

Oh well. :(

Alma 12

I've heard several times now from people that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints lied to them. They were not told that Joseph Smith married - and propositioned to marry - women who were already married themselves. They were not told that there are certain similarities - some of them stark - between the rituals of Freemasonry and the rituals of the LDS Temple Endowment. They were not told that Brigham Young wrote racist things. They all - to the last person - found these things out and felt duped and have since decided the Church was deceitful.

To be fair, I understand the frustration of their position. No one wants to be duped. No one wants to believe in a system of beliefs that aren't logical or rational.

At times, though, I've wanted to have experiences that made me able to relate in a positive way to those who have left the Church because of anger over being lied to. Frankly, I'm not sure how to respond to the claim that they were lied to. Certainly they feel deceived, I'm not going to deny them the right to feel the way they feel. But I keep coming back to the hope that if I can relate to them, and say "I went through the same thing and this is how I kept my testimony" then hopefully they can follow my example and keep their testimony alive as well.

But it's not on my shoulders to save these people. As a personality trait of mine, I have a hard time hearing the criticisms that are leveled against the Church without feeling defensive (negative connotation implied) and trying to defend the Church - with varying degrees of success (mostly "un-.")

It pains me when they're right. Why can't I go and look at the papryii? Why do Egyptologists say that Joseph Smith got the Book of Abraham wrong? Why did Brigham Young write those awful things? Why did Joseph Smith marry women who were already married?

I'm aware of the answers that are there. Some satisfy the curiosity and some do not. I do not believe the Church has lied to me. I think the Church has done its best to teach me faith in Christ, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and how to endow myself with power from on high to endure to the end. On the more embarrassing or 'sticky' parts of history and belief it has been silent-- never forbidding me to explore and to learn, nor encouraging me.

In short, I believe that as long as your heart is soft, the Lord will keep revealing more and more until you understand everything in full. Having the answers that will quell any concern for someone else is impossible; they must seek that light on their own.

Heroes

Man, this show seems like it exploded without any real foresight. How many plot twists can there be? They just keep introducing new characters and changes in story - with sexy results! That South American chick who kills people when she gets stressed is the worst. Skimpy outfits and trysts with the Indian doctor dude.

Come on, folks. What happened to actually writing?!

Go Phillies. Go Rays.

Wake me up when September ends

I will have a son. No, I didn't do the "WHAT A BOY!" exclamation only to have the doctor tell me that what I was referencing was the boy's leg or arm or something. I'm just glad to have a kid. Knowing it's a boy didn't really make me that excited in the beginning. It was like knowing what you were going to get for Christmas, but not seeing the present wrapped under the tree. Now that Mrs. Sixline is showing, I'm actually excited. I like to come home, rub her small protruding belly and smile. I always ask "How's my son?" And she always responds "We're doing great!" So there's been a lot of schmoopieness at our home in the past few days. Like newlyweds and those who are just falling for each other, I think first-time parents are allowed to be bubbly and excited at this. Just not in public, right? That's right.

So October is here and baseball is full of un-surprises. We shouldn't have been surprised that a Torre managed team with Manny Ramirez caught fire for the post-season. No, Alfonso Soriano, you weren't a part of the Yanks' success. It was all Torre. Steinbrenner, you're a cotton-headed ninnymonggins for letting Torre go. Morons run the most powerful franchise in baseball, it's only redeeming factor... Anyway, the Angels once again were post-season pwnd by the Red Sox, but at least the Rays are not going to back down. They've got swagger and poise, two of the most overused adjectives for young teams that don't know how to lose and aren't afraid bleeding because they've never bled. Boston will have to be on top of it. Unlike most post-season victories which are decided by bullpens, I think the ALCS will be decided by starting pitching. If you can last 5+ innings giving up only 1 or no runs, your team will win. More than 2 runs or less than 5 innings means you're a goner. From the NL I like the Dodgers if the Sox beat the Rays, and the Phillies otherwise. I just would like to see Manny go back to Boston. Very good October thus far. (Moron Cubs. HA!)

Politics, schmolitics. They're liars. Every one of them. I like to check Factcheck.org as of late to see who is full of the most bull. (Thanks Kermit for the link.) It seems as though all the zip and pizazz that McCain had as a follow-your-heart senator are gone. He just seems to be grumpy, and thanks to the media which is full of its own problems, I hear from him very seldom. That wouldn't be a problem except that when I do hear from him, I only hear the point that he's a better leader for war-like tumultuous times. A strong case, yes, but I think that with Obama as the CIC, strong allies like NATO and the EU will be more willing to work with us against Iran, Russia, and possibly China. In fact, I don't think that China necessarily poses a war-time threat to us. We're very much economic bedfellows, and while that's no guarantee, it's better than the pwnage we get from OPEC - half of whom hate our guts.

So yeah, man... life's good.

Autumn 2008

 

How many times have I said I love Autumn? Too many. :)

Over at Picasa I posted a few pictures of myself and Mrs. Sixline in the gorgeous canyon just up the road from us.

Enjoy!

Can I be brutally honest?

I lost the ability to say what I think when I know what I think. I slowly became aware that there are other folks out there who don't like what I say, and I'm naturally very much inclined to making folks happy. I don't like confrontation, and I don't like it when people don't like me.

You can chalk that up to whatever reason you want to, I've gone through several myself and none seem to make a whole lot of sense. I know for a fact that when pushed far enough, I do stand up for myself and so I don't consider myself coward in the traditional sense. But far too often I find myself backing down from everyday fights - arguments, mostly - because I either don't feel it's worth it or because I'm afraid of losing.

The really aggravating thing is that I spend just as much time wondering if everyone else struggles with the same thing rather than just letting it go.

I'm liking Palin less now.

I'm tired of war. I don't want war with Iran for the sole offense of developing nuclear weapons. I need more than a "the bully bought a gun" reason. ESPECIALLY after it has become clear that the claim that Iraq had and would use weapons of mass destruction were inflated. I do recognize there are no easy answers when it comes to national security but I really like how Obama wants to try diplomacy first. It reminds me - and permit me this example - of Starfleet operations. Ask questions first, shoot later. The captains always attempted to talk things out and compromise before powering weapons. I initially was very impressed with Palin, but the ABC interview gave me pause. It wasn't her lack of originality, or inability to answer questions off script. Though that made me wonder if McCain picked her because Obama did not pick Hillary, I got the impression that she's really all right with war and feels that the war in Iraq is sanctioned from a higher power. She has that right: she sent her son to fight. And you will never hear me criticize the faithful who serve. But I'm not convinced they're protecting our freedoms. I don't believe there was a legitimate threat to our freedom by Saddam Hussein. I also don't believe you can walk up and down the international neighborhood trying to size up any threat to your well being and attempting to neutralize it if it meets certain criteria known only to a very very small group.

The wars are fight with my brothers and sisters. They could be fought with me. I have a right to know what the reason is.

This is why diplomacy will work. The longer you have a rogue nation talk, the more it will become clear what their intentions are. The world is a big place and though America does not need physical support to fight a war, having international moral support is extremely beneficial. Morale counts for so much.

Anyway. I've been feeling misled by many. Everyone has an agenda. Everyone. The European news agencies who take an overtly critical and cynical tone have an agenda. The bipartisan bickering and quasi-gossip news related channels in America have an agenda. Out of mainstream news outlets with their explosive accusations and shocking revelations have an agenda. My own government has agendas. Don't think for one moment that I believe that Georgia and its Ossetian counterpart were just chilling when big mean ole bad Russia came roaring in with tanks and guns blazing. I'm not so naive to think that President Bush wouldn't try to push up a man who was pro-Washington and anti-Kremlin and call it 'spreading democracy.'

These are the reasons we go to war. These are the reasons we send our American troops to go and fight. It's not black and white, and it's damn sure not simple to find out what the just cause is. International politics are so convoluted and twisted that I'm tired of it. I do not want war. I do not want peacekeeping missions. I'm so disgusted by everything that the slightest mention of war with Iran by a politician (re: Palin) makes me sick. I would so much rather let China be the world super power and let America withdraw from the world scene and let us clean our own inner vessel. I want to clean up the mortgage crisis and credit crunch, develop renewable energy that is clean and independent of foreign powers, develop education so that young Americans value learning. I want the young ones to stop choosing universities based on successful football programs. I want free health care. It's a right and not a privilege to keep your body in working order. We have so much to work on here at home. So much.

uhmmmm...

I wanted to say something important but I don't know what.

I miss my friends dearly. I miss their children and I really wish that life let us live closer.

I read on the intertubes today about DefCon, the unofficial hacker convention. Computer security has always been an interest to me; I used to download network scripts that ran attacks when I was younger. In my IRC days I used to think of myself as l33t, but I didn't know a thing. I still don't know a thing about hacking. I didn't take any computer architecture courses, but my embedded systems courses and digital systems courses make me familiar with the concepts. I've kicked around the idea of getting a book or two on hacking just to understand what it's all about. Seriously, just for understanding.

Anyway.

So yesterday, at the doctor's, I can't even begin to describe the wash of relief when I heard the baby's heart beat again. The doctor said she saw something between his legs, and she's laboring under the impression that it was the male organ. (I think if I write the 'p'-word my own internet filter will block my own blog... Can't have that.) So maybe it's a boy. Nice.

my faithful audience...

I guess my family's now reading this... I should be careful in the things that I say...

Work: It's ok.

Home life: My 'yard' is overgrown with weeds and the HOA finally added the fence in the back which faces the street. We're constrained by our benevolent and fearless neighborhood entity of uppity white people to put in a vinyl fence. To have those things professionally installed is going to be like $20/linear foot. I can't believe that. I have about 200 feet to put in! Looks like I'll be doing this on my own.

Thesis: Round 2 begins. My professor has it and is going through it. When he sends it back to me I'll do the second pass of edits and then hopefully the last one will just be some fine tuning and then the defense will happen. It needs to happen.

Wife: 14 weeks tomorrow. We see the doctor again on Tuesday to make sure our little baby is still healthy, so I'm looking forward to it.

Arabic: Been slow. I need to get on it.

ahlan!

I am learning Arabic!

I got in contact with a professor of Arabic and Middle Eastern Studies out of BYU who was gracious enough to accord me with student access to his online resources. This includes listening exercises, quizzes, tests, notes, and vocabulary! I am very lucky to have been included in this group. I intend on buying his books for his class and following along at my own pace. Thank you professor!!!

Learning languages is something I really dig. I dare say I have the gift of tongues-- at least the ease in learning it variety. I've never spoken in an unknown dialect and I certainly don't have a cloven tongue of fire (Acts 2), but I feel a special gift has been bestowed on me. I never tire of learning new ways of saying something. I never get discouraged. It's the one area in my life where I can take the most critical abuse and not bat an eye and get down on myself. I wish I could say the same for other areas.

Here's the Uncle Sixline Marvelous Method of Language Learning:
1.) Learn the basic grammar rules
2.) Learn the basic vocabulary
3.) Listen to a basic conversation snippet (over and over) ^ n | n = the number of times you need to train your ear to pick up on all the words and recognize them
4.) Repeat, increasing intensity and complexity.

It worked for French, I don't see why it won't work for Arabic.

"But Uncle Sixline, why do you want to learn Arabic? Isn't that the language of the terrorists? I knew you had left leanings on the political scale, but are you a freedom hater?"

Good question, Timmy!

No, I'm not a freedom hater. There are many reasons why I want to learn Arabic. Some, if it makes sense, are personal and I'm not inclined to share them here. But for what it's worth, I feel that the only true way to understand someone is to understand the way the speak. Their speech is an outlet of their thoughts, and the patterns in one are intrinsically linked to the other. For cultures wrapped around Arabic, the influence of Islam and how that shapes an Arab's world and religious views are paramount. For Islam, the operative language for reading the Qu'ran in its purity (and hence its understanding) is Arabic. Thus, to understand Arabic is to begin to understand Islam. To understand Islam is to begin to understand the Arab's place in the world and his history. To begin to understand that is to understand the Arab today.

Understandably, as a faithful Mormon, I am very interested in the events surrounding the Middle East. What has become of Ishmael's progeny? Were they not sons of Abraham, and do they not have a stake in his blessings? What do I make of Muhammad, and of his teachings? What role will all this play in the second coming of Christ the Lord? Doesn't the Palestinian deserve a safe environment in the Holy Land just as much as the Israeli?

As I begin to understand Arabic, I hope it will help me understand the very complex issues that surround these sons and daughters of Ishmael, and ultimately of God.

That's why, Timmy.

PS - Mrs. Sixline is 11.9 weeks along! Yippee! I suppose I'm not longer 'Uncle' Sixline...

huh.

I'm going to be a father.

Last Tuesday, we went and saw Mrs. Sixline's doctor. After a few forms and a little bit of waiting in the brand new Mother's wing of the local hospital, we were admitted back. Before we knew it, some gel had been sprayed on Mrs. Sixline's tummy and a black and white real-time image of my child was on the screen. I'm the proud parent of a lima bean. Of course, in the past week I'm sure it's a little bigger now. But at 9 weeks, the baby's rapid heartbeat was audible and the outline was visible. Its little nubby arms and legs were flailing about. Of course, I use the words 'arms' and 'legs,' but they were really just small appendages without joints or digits.

Now, I suspect you're wondering about how I felt in all this. And I don't really know how. Just typing this up feels so mechanical. Any description of feeling feels contrived and shallow. I've started and stopped this post more than a few times. I even tried removing the expressions I'm prone to use in an effort to sound more genuine. To checklist the emotions, yes, I am excited. Yes, I am looking forward to being a father. I suppose it doesn't feel real-- though it did feel real enough after the ultrasound.

But part of me hasn't let go of the bitterness that comes with infertility. Several of my very good friends are still waiting to be expecting, and with one case, the odds are very much stacked against them. I don't want to feel excited. I don't want to bounce off the walls. I just want to be content and I am quietly eager to be a father.

And there's also this nagging feeling that people don't appreciate it when you glory in your successes, but I'm not writing this to seek permission to be happy, so don't say "Well gosh, of course you're allowed to be happy." That will earn you a punch in the nose.

February 22, or thereabouts, and barring any unforeseen difficulties, we should be welcoming a child into the world.

skepticism and belief

Some things I'm very skeptical of. Others I buy in hook line and sinker.

Example of gullibility:

~phone rings - it's Mrs. Sixline~
Me: Hey hon, what's up?
Her: You will not believe this! They're all sold out of Batman tickets!
Me: What?!
Her: Yeah! They're sold out until Monday!
Me: NO WAY!
Her: HEHEHEHEHE! I got youuuuu!

Example of skepticism:

I don't really have a concrete example. I know I don't buy into religious or political stuff very easy. When people make a claim, I always want a source-- not so much to piece together the facts for verification, but mainly to figure out motivation. I think everyone's just out to get me on their side when it comes to politics. When it comes to religious matters, I tend to be most skeptical of LDS 'faith promoting rumors.' I have a really hard time at Institute-- mainly because I just can't accept something so quickly and so easily. What's really hilarious is that I tend to give negative criticism more of a free pass than faith promoting stories.

I don't think a religious guy can be categorically placed in the 'skeptics' bin. I especially don't feel they're birds of my feather; when I thumb through the atheist section at Border's I can never even come to agree with the thrust of their argument let alone sit through the details supporting it. The main thing, though, is that I refuse to accept a cosmic existence where good and evil go unrewarded and unpunished. I refuse to believe the final mark on the Jew's life in Auschwitz was a corrupt scheme of evil men systematically murdering others on the sole basis of religious persuasion. I refuse to believe that there will be no justice served to those who perpetrate the most horrible of crimes. And, the empty imminence of an aheistic view-- the stark void of Divine help and Providence -- is just too unfair. Is there no help for the widow's son? Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no end to suffering? An end of existence certainly meets the criteria, but what good is it when one cannot enjoy the peace that comes from a fruitful existence? I just don't buy it.

But, I don't want to be fooled, either. No... I don't want to be fooled. I don't want heroes, I don't want stories, I don't want a faith promoting history. I want the truth. People are people and they're going to shock and surprise you. They're not going to live clear cut good or bad lives. They're going to look out for themselves; they're not perfect.

So why is it that the Church mainly shows the good parts of our stories in lessons, manuals, and Church sponsored events? Because it's their job to help you with your faith, repentance, baptismal covenants, and endeavours in seeking the Holy Ghost, that's why. It's not their job to make sure you know what Brigham Young said about black folks, or how many women Joseph Smith was married to. It's their job to make sure you have faith and exercise it unto repentance. "How come you never told me?" some say. I say "How come you never asked?" The answers don't matter until the questions are asked.

torture

Gitmo, Guantanamo, whatever you want to call it.

It's wrong. We're holding people without due process of the law. We're holding people on some really shaky and highly circumstantial evidence. Torture is wrong. It's ineffective. It needs to stop.

hold to the rod

I ride in a van to work. It's easy on the wallet, as we share the gas. It's also easy on me, because the commute to work is about 45 minutes one way. I can nap, read, or talk. I've already been through 3 books in the past 5 months.

And this is where the post gets difficult. How to say it, and how to say it and have the meaning carry over. There are times when I desperately want someone to see something exactly how I do, so that I can comfort myself in being understood. It's tough not being a good writer. It's also tough being a heart-on-your-sleeve kinda guy... Makes me feel like a wuss.

Yesterday I had a long conversation with a French/Swiss guy who happens to be in my van. He's a nice guy, and we've talked before. Yesterday I got the full story on why he is no longer a believing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It's hard enough hearing someone tell me why Joseph Smith's polyandry, blacks and the Priesthood, and other common concerns have driven them from partaking in the blessings of the Gospel, but two things particularly stung yesterday.

First, I hate it when French folks turn away from the Gospel. It hurts a million times more than any regular other Joe. It hurts, and it hurts bad.

Secondly, I'm starting to see myself in a lot of these exit stories. People become disaffected and quit because they can't find the answers they're looking for. They complain that the Church doesn't tell people about the more obscure details of the history of the Church or of the lives of early Church leaders. One side of me says "Well, why should they? Do you or don't you have faith that Joseph Smith saw God?" We have a tendency to dismiss the things we do know because of details that suggest that it's all a falsehood. I can't blame people for feeling the immense and deep frustration they feel. And sometimes... though I'm afraid to admit it... It feels as though I'm bound for the same fate. That is not a friendly feeling.

And so I hold to the rod, trodding slowly onward until that day when I get to the tree of life. Where else am I going to go? To atheism? Hardly. There are too many things have convinced me of God's existence. To Islam, Judaisim, Hinduism, or another non-Christian religion? No... not possible. Too many things have convinced me humanity needs a Savior. To Catholicism, Protestantism, or Evangelicalism? I would still have concerns and worries with them, though a different set. So where shall I go? The answer is: nowhere. I will stay where I am, confident that all will make sense at some point in time.

i'm not that important.

And I'm OK with it. Sometimes the jealousy bug bites and I wish I had more clout-- at work, through the fanhood of the blog (I think of extremely popular blogs and discussion forums), or even around the 'hood.

But why, do you ask, are you not that important, Mr. Sixline? You're so eloquent, interesting, zippy, intelligent, cogent, and regal. Well, the thing, dear friends, is this: there are a lot of voices out there. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I ventured into Borders today-- something I very much enjoy. I wanted to find a book, seeing as how I just finished Uncle Tom's Cabin. But shucks, folks, there's a ton of info out there! A thousand voices with a thousand tales, and how is one to sort who is important and who is not?

I'm not sure. But when I see the loud tumult, the clamoring for an audience, and the croaking desire to feel important, I find it easier to be at peace with the fact that I'm not that important.

PS - I am important, it would seem, to a computer somewhere in the Middle East. According to my little visitor's map, there are three sites somewhere near Riyadh or Medina in Saudi Arabia that are constantly visiting this blog. Are you search bots? Are you servers and hosts, or what's going on there? Say something. You guys account for like 90% of the hits here.

ugh

I never update.

We're still alive, and we're still kicking. Life is OK, though I feel like throttling my advisor, myself, and my thesis. Why didn't I just stick around and get it finished?

Shucks.

I'm also really tired of going down south to see family every weekend. Sometimes I just want to enjoy MY house-- is this too much to ask?

I suppose it is.

Before and after

Mrs. Sixline and I celebrated our 5 year wedding anniversary! Hooray! She hasn't poisoned or left me yet. (Yet...)

So we were walking around DI and found this gorgeous and non particle board crafted piece of furniture. We spent our Saturday sanding, painting, and replacing hardware. I'll have to get some close ups of the hardware, but for now, let these pics suffice.

Before:



After:



We really should have left the original hardware on the 'before' picture. I had already removed it when I remembered to snap the photo, and was too lazy to put it back on. The hardware was spendy... About $40 for everything. Plus $80 for the original piece... The local DI gets a little spendy sometimes. But hey-- like I said: No particle board. There's a thick cardboard cutout that serves as the back for it, but that seems to just keep the torsional movement limited. The drawers, panels, doors, and everything else are made of what appears to be pine. It's solid and heavy as sin. We loved the final product! Enjoy.

on importance and self-respect

In a pensive moment the other day I pondered the idea of self-respect and for the first time viewed my personality and regular modus operandi in an honest and critical manner. I've been self critical before. Most folks see themselves in the mirror and criticize themselves, for starters. The meandering paths that branch off the main road of self doubt, pity, and negativity are too many to be numbered. I am no different, and I have expended great energies in lambasting and debasing myself in hopes of... of... well, I never quite figured out what I get out of that.

This time, it was a bit different. Respect. It means different things to different people in different walks of life. What did it mean to me? I'm not sure I'm able to really articulate it, but it felt like-- for redundancy's sake-- pure and simple respect. The best I can come up with is as lack of shame when viewing myself. Do you ever read old journal entires, or think of times when you were younger and tried to be a self-respecting mature person? If you're like me, you cringe at those thoughts. I hate reading my old journal entires. They're pathetic. Just once I'd like to see myself in a positive light. Just once.

I'm not naive enough to think that just because I have that desire I will immediately see the results. The law of the harvest is harmonious with Mother Earth's.

But I did make a connection between self-respect and the feeling of being important. I was in a beautiful canyon near the Uintah mountains. I wish I had descriptive powers, I would relate to you a metaphorical scene, one in which the terrain was the human soul, the mountains were the pillars of morals and principles, and the snow coursing down the crags and collecting into violent churning rapids cleansed the soul and brought new life. There was so much water... Everything was melting and any ditch that dipped below the general surface of the ground was filled with it. It was transcendant-- enough to put anyone in an existential mood least of all me.

I was with Mrs. Sixline's side of the family. For all mine and their faults, we sometimes get caught up in the competitiveness of it all. Particularly in temporal matters and who is the furthest down the road of success. A new 5th wheel had been purchased, and Mrs. Sixline and I caught up with some of the camping family and had a little barbecue. I had time to sit and reflect on how I can very much be a different person around different people. I temper some character traits and accentuate others. It reeks of frailty and a lack of self-respect-- fear of being one's true self despite one's surrounding. The key there, of course, is not to be obtuse and difficult and let the world go to hell, but rather to choose one's character model such that one would not be ashamed of one's self irrespective of one's surroundings. As I have not yet reached such a pinnacle of self-acceptance and respect, I am left to be tossed about until such a time as I may put to port and begin the trek up that mountain.

But I digress. Sort of.

I linked, in my mind, the idea of importance, self-respect, and confidence. For the sake of explanation, this microcosm that is the in-laws largely represents how I feel around other folks. At work, in public, at social gatherings, etc... I am at a very alarming loss, at times, of how to conduct myself. Of how to be persuasive. Of formulate cogent thought. Of how to think. Put simply, I feel stupid. Embarrassingly stupid. Not quick enough, not bright enough, not smart enough, not thorough enough, not enough.

To fix this, it dawned on me, I have to begin to throw out the silly notion that others will give me that self-respect. Looking to what others think of you and relying on those positive reviews is short sighted and temporary. Respecting yourself as a child of God will instill a sense of purpose, which will give way to feelings of importance.

multiply and replenish

It's a commandment, and I am thus far unable to fulfill it.

Is it strength in the Gospel to have an understanding of all things? I don't think so. I think I just feel weak because I'm given to pose my questions aloud and seek answers. One of those heart on your sleeve kinda guys.

Anyway. Mother's Day sucks around here but I'm glad for those who are able to celebrate it.