Jack LOVES his Mimi. And I LOVE JACK!!!

Trivial Pursuit

We loved playing this game! We laughed a lot. And tricks were happening all over the place. No sore losers this time. But next time, I'll be ready.

Frisbee Time

Our family had a fabulously fun time playing frisbee near Lee's and Catherine's apartment. Nice park in Provo. We had such a lovely, joyful time with everyone. I especially loved how each one loved and cared for one another. I am in heaven.

Jack Jabez Faux's Cool Freestyle Dancin'
Taken November 7, 2009

Watch as Jack moves to the rhythm of the song. He is a natural performer!
CAN YOU KEEP UP WITH HIM?

Jack Jabez Faux: Coolest Dude!

Being Over Fifty And The Inevitable Colonoscopy

I am home right now. Close to the bathroom. Tomorrow, I am going to submit to the unenviable eventuality that comes with reaching past the half century mark: the dreaded colonoscopy. The procedure itself does not daunt me. How hard can it be when everyone I know who has done it have complete amnesia about the procedure? The only part I dread is the inserting of the IV needle. After that it's event horizon.

I've already taken the two pills that's supposed to make me go initially before I begin consuming the 2 liter jug full of eeky solution that will really make it happen. I heard it's pretty gruesome. We shall see.

*************

Have already drank 2 8oz glasses of the Halflytely solution. 6 more glasses to go. It is nasty but I am thinking positively. I drink each glass standing up. I have to drink a glass every 10 minutes. Holy cow! I have to tell myself that I can DO IT. I suck on a peppermint candy in between glasses. I hope this is the worse part of the prep. After I consume the dastardly concoction, I have to stay close to the bathroom. Then the second ordeal begins. Oh joy.

**************

It's the morning of the procedure and I've been going pretty much most of the night. It was NOT easy drinking the 4th to the last glasses full of Halflytely. By the time I drank my 2nd glass, the bathroom call began. It took me nearly 3 hours to drink all 2 liters of the cursed concoction. By the 2nd glass, I experienced chills. My hands and feet were so cold not even a blanket helped. By the 4th glass, I was fighting nausea and a feeling of malaise. Every gulp of the solution went down only by sheer mental games---mostly fighting the urge to quit or throw up. I threw up some of the 6th glass. But I managed to tell myself to hold the last one down. It was sheer determination that got me through the last one. I was actually surprised that I had difficulty drinking the solution because it didn't seem that much. The taste wasn't too bad at first but then it started to taste really salty---like lemonade with lots of salt. I don't salt my foods so maybe I'm just not used to that salty taste. Anyway, this morning, I feel fine except for some queasiness in my belly. I don't think I'm done going to the bathroom and I have to be at the surgery center in 2 hours. So I better be getting me ready. I"ll write more about my experience at the surgery center. For now my big question is: should I put make-up on? Lashes? I can't bear to think that I'll be going somewhere 'unmade'. Ahhh....vanity.

More later.

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Leaving for surgery center now. Decided to go all made up...lashes and all. I wouldn't want to go get a colonoscopy looking harried, do I? So here's a shot of me before I walked out the door:

Let me tell you the worst of the whole enterprise of getting a colonoscopy: THE WAITING. So I get to the surgery center half an hour before the scheduled time. I waited an extra half hour just to get past the reception room. There were already people waiting for their turn. I realized they were all patients of Dr. Yeh--my same doctor. I counted 6 names on the roster before my name. I am in a virtual conveyor belt of people on gurneys waiting for Dr. Yeh to look into our colons. That was not a very comforting thought for me at this time.

When they let me in, they weighed me, put me on a gurney and took my vitals. Then she made me sign more papers. I think the nurse did not expect that I would read the fine print. I did. She gave me a disposable hospital gown and told me to take off everything from the waist down. Then she told me to wait. I waited. Then another nurse came, attached me to a heart machine, blood pressure cuffs, finger thermometer and...the dreaded IV needed/port on my right hand. (Since I was going to be made to lie down on my left side for the procedure, right?) Hated that. Then the worst--I waited over 45 minutes in that curtained 'cubby' room with that needle stuck in my hand! I had nothing to do. Not a magazine. I just....waited.

Finally, the nurse wheeled me to one of the colonoscopy rooms. where she placed an oxygen tube around my head. There I waited again. Fifteen minutes later, I realized I needed to go to the bathroom. As I was trying to figure out how to get myself untangled from the tubes and wires, the anesthesiologist came. I told her I needed to go so they helped me out. I felt better. As soon as I returned, she made me lie down on my left side and I watched her take a syringe, plunge it into 2 or 3 bottles, mixing the milky white cocktail by priming the plunger up and down. It was mainly Michael Jackson's choice of sleep agent: propofol. I closed my eyes as she administered it. It was a fun and strange experience. First I could still see the light through my closed lids. Then suddenly, I only saw a black, dark screen....like when you turn off the telly. I remember thinking: Whoa! Everything is black! I guess I will be sleeping soon. Then nothing.

I woke up and Kurt was there. Everything went well. They showed me some shots of the inside of my colon. It tooked nice and red and shiny. Nothing remarkable. They had to give me another drug to wake me up apparently coz I wouldn't wake up. No big deal. I got up a little woozy.

Went to King's Fish House for my macadamia encrusted Halibut with orange sauce. Then looked around the Anne Taylor store. Found a nice blue shirt and a couple of cute head bands. I guess I was still under the influence.

So I'm home now. Still have a buzz. A little diarrhea. I don't like the buzz.

I don't have to have a colonoscopy for 10 years. I couldn't bear the thought of drinking Halflytely. Perhaps in 10 years they will finally just make virtual colonoscopy de rigueur. You know---the one where you swallow a small camera.

So now I feel like I could sleep for a day with that buzz in my head.

You Would Think I'd Know... But No.

My "Aha!" Moments For This Week

I am about to make a huge pot of my decadent and sinfully delicious chili. It seems overcast outside but no sign of rain. After all, I live in the desert so the day may feign a threat of rain but its only an illusion. After all, I live near Vegas. Figures.

It's amazing to me that when I was younger, I thought I knew so much and could move forward through the world with so much confidence. As I learn more about life and as I pass through many experiences good and bad, I realize how little I know. Sometimes, a sudden realization seizes me and I am aghast at how ignorant I was...passing through what was or should have been obvious and yet not connecting the dots.

The latest 'Aha!" moment came just a few weeks ago. I had a student who was so disruptive and just sucked the life and spirit out of my classroom with her attention-starved antics. Days would pass and I would get more and more frustrated with her so much so that I started disliking her. I dreaded going back to class because of her. I would spend sleepless nights trying to think of ideas to curtail her disruptive behaviour. One morning, she came to class extremely early and as I saw her, I wanted to just throw everything and go home. But a voice inside my head said: take this opportunity! Get to know her. Find a way to love her! The resistance I had against those inner commands was strong. "No way am I going to pretend I like her because I don't." But I KNEW without a doubt that the only way to achieve any measure of success in changing someone's behaviour was to change mine. And I KNEW that feeling the way I did about her was totally wrong. But I'm only human right? And that gave me the excuse to behave and feel badly. I KNEW it. But I couldn't execute the correct behaviour from myself even if I knew what I had to do. Knowing full well the consequences of not acting upon good insight, I decided to try and execute what I knew was the right thing to do: to turn around and genuinely be interested in her---to get to know her. I only had 10 precious minutes before everyone would start filing in. I had to act. So I decided to 'pretend to like her' and as soon as I made that decision, a wonderful thing happened. In an instance, I felt tender inside. I could see her. I could see her spirit---her wonderful exuberance, her talents, her intelligence....and her need for love. We talked. At first it was awkward but quickly I found commonalities that were exciting to me. I began to see her in a totally different way. Days later, she didn't come to class and I missed her so terribly. Class just wasn't the same without her. And it occurred to me how easy it was to love her. And I do love her. I did not have to resort to clever classroom tactics. I did not have to become a slick, clever teacher. All that was needed was for me to love her. And it has made the difference. There is a peace in my class now. No...she didn't change much. She is still wonderfully exuberant. But my behaviour changed and her exuberance is no longer disruptive but in fact, a fabulous ingredient that makes my class a wonderful place for me to be spending my early morning hours.

What I learned is that though we may know what true principles need to be followed and incorporated into our behaviour, the execution of those principles vary every single time they need to be executed. Sometimes it's easy to execute. ANd then just when you think you have it down pat, you get faced with a challenge. We just cannot be complacent. We just have to keep on plugging along---learning and growing and getting better. I can see how easily pride can creep in and suddenly you are fighting with yourself because you think you can get a pass and get away with not behaving well just because you think you've already learned your lesson and you're all huffy and puffy already 'good'. Then before you know it, you're just trying to figure out how you got to be so miserable and crabby. And old. I think learning to be a better person keeps you young. Perhaps a nice little unexpected benefit.

*********************

I've again started seeing my trainer at the gym. I do enjoy it but it is HARD. I hate sweating and I hate feeling that 'exertion' feeling. But then in the end, it does feel good to have a good sweat. This is one area where I really need help. I just need to learn to love working out. And I can see that I can. I keep on 'failing' but I guess this time, I realized that every time I 'fail' I just need to stop getting stupid and keep on trying. Besides no one ever learns from succeeding all the time. Failure is a better teacher.

*************************

Another 'aha' moment I had this week is realizing that when I am away from my children, the way I think about them is always the way they were when they lived at home---as my 'children'. But every time I go and see them I realize that there is a very, very wide chasm between how I perceive them and what's real. Here's what's real: they are independent, smart, savvy and completely capable of making mature decisions. If I really am honest, they are 10 times more capable than I was at their age. So I can worry, nag and repeat myself but that's not going to help them or elevate them by any stretch of the imagination. Every single time I talk to them or see them I learn something about myself...well, specifically, how I can be better. I am inspired by them. We are now on equal footing. I just have more experience. Nevertheless, true principles can be executed and learned at any age and I can be learning too as they do the same. In some areas, they are my superior. And in others, they can certainly benefit from my experiences. And it's all an equal give and take.

But I can still worry, nag and repeat myself because I am a mother. And that's that

They Thought They Had Time

My Samoan friend was talking about the September tsunami and earthquake that affected Western and American Samoa. She was glad that none of her immediate family was affected. The conversation turned sober though as she told the story of over a hundred lives lost. Some were caught unprepared or simply overtaken and were taken by the waves to their deaths. But many deaths were more tragic. There were many who did not appreciate the danger and unforgiving nature of torrents of ocean water because the sea was always their friend. So many islanders simply chose to run towards the ocean to watch the tsunami. Their miscalculation was sadly too dear: it cost them their lives. Some, after being given a firm warning to immediately flee to higher ground thought they had some time to run to the store and get some provisions. They were sadly wrong. They had NO time. It only took about 30 minutes for the tsunami waves to quickly obliterate roads, bridges, buildings and hundreds of homes. They thought they had time. They thought they had time.

Today, my daughter told me that a girl in their ward is at the ICU with pneumonia and swine flu. She is not expected to live. Hers was a serious case. There are others who suffer within their 'safe' cocoon. Last week, I sounded like a paranoid crazed mother begging them to get the swine flu vaccine. They thought I was annoying. Today, they have plans to get the vaccine asap. I hope the clinic does not run out of vaccines. And I hope they really do go.

For the most part, I think all these events are a good metaphor for the bigger events to come. Just like what happened in L'Aquila, Italy when they had that huge earthquake just last April. They had hundreds of smaller quakes for about four months so when they were warned to prepare for the inevitable, they thought they had time. They didn't. Over 300 people died making this earthquake the deadliest one in Italy since 1980.

Many of the great prophecies found in the scriptures have already come to pass. Some are in progress. But very little is left.

But we still have time.

Right?

Birth of a New Day: Haleakala Crater, Maui
(Girls' Only Trip: Corsee, Chat and Christie)

It wasn't an easy proposition to wake up at 1am on our second night in Maui. Our days were already filled with plans to do 'nothing' but sit out by the pool, walk by the beach, read books, get pampered at the luxurious spa, eat and eat some more. But we did it so we could catch the 2am chartered tour bus that would take us to the top of Helealaka, 10,000 feet above sea level, to wait for the sun to rise as we shiver in 44 degrees Fahrenheit.

Over 30 years ago, I had the opportunity to drive up to Haleakala to see the sun rise. But I was only 19 years old and an excursion up to the mountain volcano with some cute guys was definitely not conducive to this higher form of contemplative exercise. And I wasn't ready for the spiritual treat that I was about to experience this time around.

It was pitch black when we arrived at the crater. There was a crowd already waiting. It was so cold my hands felt frozen. There was no clear horizon and with the clouds in the sky, we weren't sure what kind of sunrise we were going to be gifted by Mother Nature.

Then a thin orange line emerged on the horizon. And we waited. And waited. Soon the clouds in the sky became a beautiful smoky blue as a large portion dissipated. Stars and a couple of bright planets were still visible. It took what seemed like hours for the sun to finally appear. The skies turned all kinds of colours. I suddenly became aware of how clear the air was. I could see for miles and miles. The light of the emerging sun played with my eyes. It was spectacular.

For a moment, I stood in awe. I tried to hide my tears as I felt myself about to burst with gratitude for what I was about to see. Suddenly, the words came to my head: "...so you can see far off". For a brief moment there, a flow of thoughts came into my head.

The scriptures are full of references to land or promised lands that are 'far off'. On first blush, we take these literally. But I believe there is a deeper meaning to these references.

These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.

For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.

And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned.

But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11: 13-15)

The scriptures then begin to list great men like Isaac, Moses, Jacob and Joseph--men who saw the promises far off. These were men who were persuaded to obey all that God commanded them to do because they could see far off. Because they could see clearly. We even can conclude that most of them did not even receive the promises. Moses never made it to the promised land. Abraham only had two sons and passed on before he could see the promise made to him fulfilled. And yet, they all did what they were asked to do because they saw the 'land' far off.

Sometimes, as we go through challenges, it is hard to see far off. We begin to doubt and worry about contingencies. We worry about things we cannot control. We suffer because we cannot control these contingencies---nor prevent them from happening. We want to be shown exactly what the future looks like. We want to see the future so we can protect ourselves. Arm ourselves.

Such is what faith is made of. It is made of things that are not seen. It is the substance of things we hope for. It the the evidence of things we cannot see. Faith is moving along, hanging on--happily and hopefully through challenges and uncertainty.

Yet sometimes, if we look hard and seek, we begin to see the invisible. Clouds dissipate. The air is made clear. And we can see far off.

Sometimes we need to climb a mountain where the air may be thinner. Our lungs will have to work harder. Sometimes we have to wait in total darkness...in the cold. And then our patience is rewarded.

Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do appear. (Hebrews 11:3)

There is an invisible portal through which we can see all things that are visible only to the heart and the spirit. High on the mountaintop, in Haleakala, I was reminded of the promises that I can see far off. And my heart took flight.

As we stepped back into our comfortable van, our guide announced that of the many times he had been to watch the sunrise at Haleakala, this morning's event ranked in the top 5% of the best. He was incredulous about how the air was so clear we could see the islands of Moloka'i, Lana'i, Kahoolawe and even clearly see the tops of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa--far away to the big island of Hawaii. I smiled a secret smile because what I saw far off was brighter and clearer than that.

Faux'ified Bibingka
(Cheese Muffins)

Warning: This recipe makes THREE dozen muffins!
Do not attempt to count calories. Just go into denial.

Combine: 2 1/2 c Bisquick
1 1/2 c sugar
3 tsp baking powder

Add: 5 eggs, 2 cups evaporated milk and mix well. Pour into paper-lined muffin pans. Do not overfill as batter will rise.

Bake 350 degrees for 10 minutes and remove from oven. They will look like this:

Carefully place a pat of real butter on top of each muffin like so:

Add grated cheddar cheese and about a tsp of sugar. Yes, sugar. You can also substitute a slice of cream cheese instead of cheddar. Yum.

Place back in oven and bake another 10 minutes. Remove from oven and enjoy. What? I'm missing FOUR muffins already?? The horror.

Today is officially the last weekend of the summer. I wish Mother Nature would act accordingly because it's still 3 digits hot here in Henderson, Nevada. So I decided to change the arrangements on our front door to something more appropriate for the time--dried hydrangeas. Awesome! I suddenly feel like transforming the whole house! Oh no. I think I may be getting a little hypomanic. Well it's about time! I have this sudden urge to embark on all kinds of projects. I woke up at 4:30am which is really late by my wont and my mind started racing. I have several projects that are brewing and I know intellectually that most of them are bound to fail just from experience and so my mind is racing about that too. It's miserable. My friends tell me to stop thinking when I get like this. BUT HOW??

HANNAH'S HIGHLIGHTS OF JERUSALEM VIDEO

August 24, Monday, we went to the Camp's home for Family Home Eveyning so we can see the video that Hannah hurriedly put together. It shows some of the highlights of her summer stint at the BYU Jerusalem Center--at least what she could fit in 15 minutes or so. It turned out so awesome that I thought I should post it here for the rest of the family to see and enjoy.

Believing in The Extraordinary

Believing in the Extraordinary

Waking up in the middle of the night still shaking from the torment of a nightmare, I struggled to return to reality. There was none. The nightmare was merely a playback of my past life spilling into the 'now'. The monster once again has caught up with me.

I know that there is a place reserved for those who harm little innocent children. I know it is a terrible place. And yet somehow I feel some measure of compassion for that uncle who not just stole the wonder and magic of my childhood but also shattered the vision of how I saw the world. I know he will never experience joy.

But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea. (Matthew 18:6)

The most painful and agonizing moment of my life was the realization that something wondrous had been taken away from me. It was the total loss. The darkness. The realization that my life would never again be the same. It was that clear even as a young child of 5 or 6. And though in my limited vocabulary I attempted to ask for help, the realization that help would not be forthcoming feels like a kind of death sentence. And so, hell was when you wake up in the morning and pretend that nothing happened. And you face your abuser day by day pretending that nothing happened. And you had to wait to grow up so you can figure out a way to escape. And day by day you try to pick up the shattered pieces of your life and try to put them back together piece by piece even though you will have to look at the world through a myriad of broken pieces held together by nothing but your will.

How does one emerge from all this darkness and pain? How did I survive this? Ahh...but that is the magic. There is still something I have that no one can steal or pry from me. It is even more wondrous than what he took from me. I have a little something that I was born with. It is the iron-clad, clear belief that something extraordinary is going to happen to me.

I always knew that there was a higher being who watched over me. And though I may have passed through terrible experiences and stumbled through confusion and desperation, I always felt his loving arms around me. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could feel the tender love of a God who loved me and who wanted to bless me. I never questioned this knowledge because it was in me from the very beginning. Though I could not articulate those feelings, I just knew and understood.

Sometimes, like that night when I had the series of nightmares, feelings will surface and again, I relive those dark moments. I pass through the sorrows and confusion once again. And I have to find a way to heal again. Some people may look at this and conclude that of course, it is a natural consequence of those horrible events of my life. But I don't see it that way. I see it as an opportunity to remember all the extraordinary events of my life that led me to the life that I have now. And every time I look back, I see miracles. And more miracles. I see the hand of God putting things back in order. And every day of my life, I see more and more of the extraordinary 'coincidences' that tell me that God indeed opens the windows of heaven such that there is barely room for me to receive them. My greatest fear is not that past. My greatest fear is that I will become ungrateful.

I have accomplished many things but the greatest of all that I have ever done is being a mother to four amazing children. I do not know what I have done to deserve the blessing of being their mother and learning so much from them but I am grateful. And the best decision I've ever made in my life is marrying the best friend I have ever had who still makes every day ever so wondrous and magical. With him, I feel safe. Because of him, the shattered window that I pieced together no longer has cracks or fissures. I can see even more clearly now. I no longer have to hold the pieces together. I see a clear and bright vision of the world. It is all I need.

The extraordinary is frequently invisible. But train your eyes and heart to see and slowly, all the magical pieces emerge and you begin to see not just the world around you but the extraordinary world of miracles and divine order.

Yeah. The nightmares may come. And darkness sometimes falls upon you. But believing that the extraordinary is possible is more than enough to heal you everytime darkness falls. It's wondrous. And nothing or no one can take that away from me

The Wonder of the Human Mind

Dr. Sylvia Nasar, the author of "A Beautiful Mind" tells the extraordinary story of mathematician John Nash a drama about the mystery of the human mind and shares some of her experiences in writing her prize-winning biography.

This video runs 1:15 hours. I found this lecture, given at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to Mathematics students, very compelling. Nash's great story to me is a perfect metaphor for life itself. Take the time to watch and be enlightened.

Anthropologie and The Subject of Prayer

Anthropologie and the Subject of Prayer

Summer is on its last breath and my children are off once again to carve their niches via academic pursuits with its own set of social demands and premiums. Ahhh...college life! Just a very small dot of time on life's uninterrupted timeline. I find it interesting that I still feel like that person in my twenties except decades have passed and I've accumulated many life experiences, wrinkles and lately, some aches and pains. I can see where my children are and I can clearly identify what challenges they need to anticipate, what they need to do to avoid them. Even more jarring is that I can see opportunities that they can't see and life treasures within their grasp that they sometimes can't see simply because youth makes them invisible. Could this be the wisdom of age?

I find myself obsessing over what to do and more importantly, what to give them. I seem to be frequenting shops that cater to their indulgence: baby and children's stores for my grandchildren, high-end stores like Anthropologie or Nordstroms, the Mac store (the computer Mac---not the make-up...although I go there too....) and little boutiques here and there...always looking for things to indulge them with. And I do. I want to.

In participating in the above exercises, I've rediscovered something that I've always known but didn't consider because of my exuberance in wanting to give. First, the more they get used to being showered with gifts and things, the more those things lose their value. It's a natural consequence. It's basic economics. You have more 'stuff' and they keep on coming regardless of what you do and all that 'stuff' becomes pointless and cheap. Hence, I find myself needing to hold back. It's imperative to do so because indulgence's end result is simply gratitude-made-obsolete and expectations slowly brewed into an over-seasoned soup of entitlement. And for me, separation from my children seems to unlock that Pandora's box of exuberant giving and gifting because I simply want them to NOT forget me. I simply want to remind them that I am still here. And because I can't be with them to love them, protect them and care for them, I have this urgent need to give them things so they will remember that I love them. It's just a human reaction. Or a mother's.

I've also discovered, with some measure of sorrow, that I cannot dispense advice , warning or insight to my children willy-nilly. It just pesters them no end. That's when the rolling eyes, awkward silences, annoyed glances or even vexations arise. It can be a relationship breaker. And it turns me, a loving mother, into a villainous, over-bearing, hovering entity. Not human. But an entity. They want to make their own mistakes. They want to discover hardship by themselves. And they don't want to be told that there's a better way or that you see in them more strength, more talent or more sense. They want those things to be invisible because if you can see their strengths, then they know you expect something from them they may be unprepared to see or deliver. So really, a mother's awesome task for the most part is to watch. Just watch. And pray.

On another note, though I've always known all these in principle, it's a different thing to know principles experientially. And it goes both ways. I understand both sides because I also have parents and I have been where they are now. And this understanding causes me also some measure of sorrow and regret because as children, we do not always think of our parents nor of their counsels nor of their generosity. But as loving parents, our children are constantly in our thoughts and hearts. In time our children become parents and the circle completes. Until then, we cannot see the broad strokes of the canvas.

On another level, I have a more profound appreciation and understanding of the power and imperative necessity of prayer---not just prayer but the relationship that ensues when we pray and look to God unceasingly. Wisdom and knowledge come only after we seek them and often as a result of our own experiences...mostly the ones that cause us to stumble or lose orientation. Because our Heavenly Father is a perfect being, He knows how to perfectly balance agency and the grace that bestows us all things we stand in need of regardless of what we do. He blesses us continually despite our lack of gratitude and if we but ponder these blessings more often, it would cause us great awe-- yes, even an awareness of our own 'nothingness'. An overwhelming surge of gratitude that threatens to even drown us ensues. Consider this:

And again I say unto you as I have said before, that as ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love, and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel.

And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God, and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of the glory of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true. (Mosiah 4:11-12)

When we pray to our Heavenly Father he rejoices. He loves it when we talk to him, share with him our thoughts even our fears. He loves it when we express gratitude. His kindness defies description when we confess our sins to him. And he longs to bless us with those blessings that he has reserved for us---the ones that he holds back--- until we ask for them. As we pray more often, we find favour in his sight and he quickly blesses us more abundantly such that we cannot possibly be grateful enough. And when we stumble or fall and seek him, he immediately lifts us according to our faith. There is no condemnation when we seek him after a long absence...only rejoicing that we, like the prodigal son, have come back. Such is merely this mortal mother's understanding of a perfect father's love--that of a Heavenly Father who longs to bless us and to keep us in his loving arms.

Now, if we look around us, there are an endless number of gifts--yes, even indulgences that God has bestowed us. That the sun gives us its warmth and life-giving rays is an obvious gift and remembrance that there is a higher being who loves us. Everything on this earth are to the typifying of the Saviour. We are endowed with endless possibilities through priesthood ordinances both inside and outside the temple. Even the commandments and principles we learn are reminders of our Heavenly Father's love for us. If we but open our eyes and hearts, He is everywhere. He gives because he wants us to remember Him.

So, as I separate from my children mostly in a geographical sense, I cannot just pick up the phone every second that I long to hear their voices. I have to wait until they call or until I can find a viable reason to call. And though I feel that I need to warn them, I have to sometimes allow them to fail. Though it will break my heart to pieces when they hurt or stumble, I must hold my heart together in my hands and allow them to discover for themselves the strength that lies within them. I also need to understand that I cannot just gift them my insights or wisdom drawn from my own stumblings unless they ask. Life already is packaged with enough challenges and when we seek to minimize these challenges by desiring and seeking wisdom from our parents, both are edified and joy springs because our spirits are enhanced from the interchange of knowledge. There is safety and security when we heed and look for warnings and cues.

As far as Anthropologie...well, I just ordered some shoes again. And some cute headbands. But I am going to keep them until someone asks to have them. Then I will quickly and happily put them in a nice bag and let them have it.

The Faux Kids Make Turron* (And A Big Mess...)
*Filipino Deep Fried Bananas and Jackfruit Rolls

Behaviour and Disposition

Lately, I've noticed that I have had no desire nor even the inclination to be with people...large groups of people. For the past few weeks I've been in a funk--feeling really exhausted emotionally and consequently, physically. All I wanted to do was be alone. I get this way many times and its been a constant source of frustration and befuddlement to me.

I am not a shy person and I do not dislike people either. In fact, I've always thought me an articulate communicator and a very good listener. I don't like to talk about people but put me in a room with a bunch of free thinkers and I am in heaven because I love to talk about issues and ideas. I feel that I am interested in people and have always been a keen observer of behaviour. I usually sense what people think and why they tick the way they do. I am not timid about expressing my opinions and love to hear what other people think.

But put me in a situation where I have to do 'small talk' and I immediately feel like hurling. I become a total schizoid painfully and utterly aware that I am an alien in a dizzyingly threatening environment. And I get completely undone. My head hurts and I just want to be alone. I find that I cannot even respond to friendly hellos or 'small talk' because it feels painful. So I avoid eye contact and keep to myself. Thus, I do believe most people perceive me, at the very optimistic, unapproachable or perhaps even stuck-up.

Yet, I love people and want to be helpful. Oftentimes, I am generous to a fault and worry about others. I am loyal to those who I consider close friends. And am very interested in people in general. I even think I get along well with most people.

This incongruity in me makes it difficult to be LDS. While I know that I need to serve others and participate enthusiastically in various church events and activities, I find them very draining and I find that sometimes it takes weeks for me to regroup. This makes for an interesting dilemma. I get riddled by guilt that I am not a more 'warm and fuzzy' person. Yet I want to be that way. But I can't. And thus begins my descent into depression.

Through these years, I've just been flummoxed by my disposition--the irony and incongruity of my behaviour and disposition. Until a revelation---

I am an introvert! There is a name for what I have. And its ok for me to be me!

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Introverts:

Definition: Contrary to what most people think, an introvert is not simply a person who is shy. In fact, being shy has little to do with being an introvert! Shyness has an element of apprehension, nervousness and anxiety, and while an introvert may also be shy, introversion itself is not shyness. Basically, an introvert is a person who is energized by being alone and whose energy is drained by being around other people.

Introverts are more concerned with the inner world of the mind. They enjoy thinking, exploring their thoughts and feelings. They often avoid social situations because being around people drains their energy. This is true even if they have good social skills. After being with people for any length of time, such as at a party, they need time alone to "recharge."

When introverts want to be alone, it is not, by itself, a sign of depression. It means that they either need to regain their energy from being around people or that they simply want the time to be with their own thoughts. Being with people, even people they like and are comfortable with, can prevent them from their desire to be quietly introspective.

Being introspective, though, does not mean that an introvert never has conversations. However, those conversations are generally about ideas and concepts, not about what they consider the trivial matters of social small talk.

Introverts make up about 60% of the gifted population but only about 25-40% of the general population.

So now, I can just relax. There's more of us! And though I am a minority in so many more ways than just this, I don't have to feel deficient. I am therefore, a hypomanic-depressive introvert. It feels good to have a definition. But still....I just want my alone time when I need it and I don't want to have to feel guilty that 'small talk' distresses me because when I am on my highs, I can be a 'small talk' expert.

So there.

Running Score: Door 1, Jack 0

We had an unfortunate incident that involved Jack's big toe and the front door.

And Papi came to the rescue. He did a great job bandaging said toe. Jack may have to lose a nail. But that's ok. He's built to be tough. He's a Faux.

Jack Jabez Faux: Future GQ Cover

Think sharp and pay attention. This video is the perfect metaphor for what summer was like this year.