Speaking of changing the world

Today I felt an odd desire... to blog. I was meditating... something I do a lot now because I learned that it's really good for you... and I thought of a question... which led to more... as questions often do...here are my questions and my thoughts about 'em...

What would change if whenever we talked about people we only ever said good things? What would change if when we had a problem with people, we went and talked to them- and only them- and told them our issues and then when we left that conversation, regardless of what transpired in it, what if we then went back to the world and still only spoke well of that person? What would change if we knew that people were only ever saying good things about us? What if our first inclination when we saw people wasn't to judge them as bad, but to judge them as good?

See, this is what I've decided, I have a serious problem with gossiping and complaining. I discovered this because for the last two weeks I've been doing an assignment where I'm not supposed to say anything sarcastic or rude or complaining or gossiping. And i haven't done well at all on the assignment. And as I was doing this assignment I realized something else. I have some friends that are really good at always saying nice things. always. They find reasons to be happy when it's pouring rain and you have to change your clothes every time you go outside, and you don't have a car so you're walking to the grocery store, and when you get there you don't have enough money and they still make the trip the funnest thing in the world. And the only thing that's different is they focus on the good. Also with these friends,  I don't talk about other people negatively because I know that these friends would be uncomfortable doing that. It's not something they do and so when I'm with them, we find other things to talk about or talk about good qualities or things that impress us. Then I have friends that complain so naturally that I join in and don't even realize how negative I'm being- usually about something that doesn't even bug me that much- just because I'm in the company of people that feel like complaining. How often do these people say that they are so tired, or hungry, or not excited to take a test. And being with them, i get tired and hungry and test anxiety. Not that I'm blaming my friends completely, but I realized that it's not really that I'm upset or happy, it's really just how I choose to be.

There was one day that I did really good on this assignment and I discovered something. The spirit invites positive conversation. and something else. Positive conversation invites the spirit. That day was incredible and I thought how much I wanted to always live like that. Having the spirit influencing your thoughts and therefore your words, therefore your outlook on the world, therefore your influence on the world. It can really change everything. So, I was so excited to change my life.

And then I realized that I am so affected by the people and conversation around me. Influenced enough to be complaining about the weather with one person and celebrating it 5 minutes later with a different person. I also realized that the way we talk to people is a huge part of our friendship. Find someone that you always gossip with. Then have a conversation with them and try not to gossip. It's awful. I couldn't believe the kind of habit it was, but I realized that it was difficult to talk about something different with some people because we spend so much time saying bad things that it's just a habit. It's just part of our relationship. Ew. Gross. That can't be a healthy relationship. I don't leave the conversation happy. I leave feeling validated. Someone feels the way I do. But, I'm not happy. I'm indifferent, or begrudged even... hard hearted.

Just my language does this. Isn't that crazy? We don't have to be saying anything bad about gospel principles, but talking negatively really hardens us and makes us hate the world. And who the heck wants to live in a world that they hate. One of the craziest things is, I don't even hate the world. I really don't. But sometimes I pretend I do because I'm with people that pretend they do. I honestly think that out of 20 people that are complaining to each other about the same thing, maybe one is actually upset enough that it's driving them crazy and they can't be happy. and when we're complain about the weather, i bet it's like 1 in 1000 that find heavy wind (this is Rexburg, we complain about the wind) so unbearable that they can't see that the world is still an okay place to be. I consider myself a happy person with generally happy friends. So how crazy is it that most of us happy people spend more time talking about things that upset us than things that make us happy. Why do we waste energy doing that? No wonder we're always talking about how tired we are!

So, back to my questions. WHAT IF... we all stopped. What if from this second onward we only said positive things about... well first people... and then the world. What would change? Well, I think we'd all have more fun talking to people and we might very well bounce around like second graders because the world seems so right. (seriously, second graders= awesome) We'd be more eager to talk to everyone. Friends. Family. Strangers. Because we would know that we would leave the conversation even happier than we came to it. Then I also thought, well what if we secretly hate someone but are only saying happy things. Would that destroy us? Well, I think there are extremes but, my first thought was no. It would refine us. It would help us learn to love people despite the issues we have with them. Then I thought, it would be okay to talk to that one person that's bugging us and tell them that they are bugging us. But if we did it in this same positive spirit, it would almost be a sacred experience. Because if they looked at it as an opportunity to become better and you looked at it as an opportunity to reach understanding and find closure. If we were so used to be positive i think our criticism would be positive too. Or at least... it could be.
 
I think about the effect this would have on my family. If I always spoke well of my mom and dad I would not only honor them but, it would set everyone who was going to meet them up to meet a great person. And if my mom and dad knew that I spoke highly of them all the time, they would know that all my friends that know anything about them are expecting them to be awesome. And then they'd be inclined to be awesome. And if we only ever said good things, then even if my friends didn't think my parents are as awesome as I do, they would only tell me positive things about them. And when you say positive things out loud, you believe them a lot easier. This kind of starts to seem that we'd all be living in fantasy, kidding ourselves that the world is right. Kidding ourselves that everyone is great. But, don't I believe that everyone really does have greatness? So, what is really the dream, the way I'm living now, always speaking in the negative, or the way I could live, in the positive. I think that if I weighed the pros and cons of life- even now- I would still  come up with more positive than negative things about it.

Imagine the difference in Junior High. Don't kids feel so much insecurity because they think that everyone around them is watching them and judging them? Well, what if we lived in a world where these kids spent 13yrs with positive conversation coming from them and to them from all angles. Would they hit puberty and suddenly believe the world completely turned upside down? Maybe partly but,  I don't think it would be this dramatic.

Think about this idea from Elder Holland's talk "The Tongue of Angels": we pray to God and gossip about his children with the same instrument- our tongues. We complain and speak in gratitude with the same thing. We bear testimony and speak unkindly with our tongue. Doesn't that make it seem... defiled? How can we talk of mercy and forgiveness and then turn around and whisper that we hate so-and-so. Seriously?

So... my conclusions... what would change if we all spoke nicely... only things that need to be changed. So, I decided that I have to start making this a life change. It's not a two week project anymore. Its a Jana's life project. I want people to feel uplifted when they talk to me. I don't want to talk badly about people or things or the weather.

Why do we waste so much time complaining about things we can't change? Why don't we just celebrate the things that we like about those things we can't change? I mean, no matter how much I complain of wind, it won't stop. So why not talk about the good things about that. It changes how i feel. If I say I'll feel better when the wind stops- fine. I may never feel better. If I say I feel better because there are good things about the wind then I already feel better and it's on my terms. We should take responsibility for our own happiness.

So, this is my goal. And I know that this is going to be hard because of some of the relationships that I have that focus on life in the negative. I'll refer them to this blog. I apologize to everyone who I indulge in negative conversation with. What an awful waste of time. I've gained a testimony of language. Which isn't something i thought I needed a testimony of. But it changes things. And now that I know this... i have a responsibility to speak positive. To live in the positive. I want to live this way. It's a better way. a happier way.

I'm not changing the world, just what I say about it.

Why do you want to do City Year?

What would you look for if this were the last week of your life? Would Earth’s beauty make you breathless? Would the world’s majesty give you pause? Perhaps at the end of our lives, we’ll see life’s treasure; but by then, it will be too late. If we don’t open our eyes now, the monotony of daily tasks can erase enthusiasm and wonder. Life will be wasted on the things that don’t matter.  We will forget to live, in our effort to survive. At City Year there will be tasks that seem dreary, and days that are hard.  However, City Year’s vision is directed, with hope, to the future. This allows members to see past monotony and embrace possibility. At City Year, many of my fantastic ideals have proven to be a reality. I think that people can rise above expectations.  Those that wear the red jackets consistently raise the bar, and pull others up with them. I believe that we can design our futures; the City Year corps members give each child the crayon to map their dreams.  Children are small, innocent and overlooked. However, it is through these characteristics that their greatness is defined. The wide-eyed wonder of a child teaches us that the most important aspect of learning is our passion. I dream of showing children the power of knowledge. I will direct them to answers, encourage their questions; and learn as they discover. I want to coach them as they chase their dreams and share their thrill as they cross each milestone. I will teach them of the success that comes when we endure past disappointment. Together, in this pursuance of dreams we will transform ourselves from creatures of survival, to creatures that truly live. 

Discuss the social issue that most concerns you and the action you would take to address it.

“A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for.”

–William Shedd

                Fear is a central force in every conflict. Fear would have us cower in our homes and draw the curtains on the problems outside. It lies at the heart of all decisions to give up and give in. If humanity is to endure, we must each conquer our fears. Often, our greatest fear is not that we will fail, but that our success will elevate us away from the comfort of the crowd.  If we accept our destiny as heroes, we will be exempt from taking on the role of innocent citizens, who have neither the strength nor the inherent responsibility to fight back. Most of us attempt to blend in. We will do anything to avoid the spotlight, even if that requires hiding our talents, beliefs, and goals. Heroes do not deny their power; they use their gifts to protect their values. They are armed with hope in mankind and in themselves. They are dreamers with the drive to pursue. Heroes stand out like a light in the darkness, naturally inspiring each of us to courageously raise our own torch. Because they are not bound by the status quo, they embrace differences and stand up even if they are standing alone. They encourage us to celebrate our strengths and overcome our weaknesses by recognizing the hero we are all meant to be. This arms us with weapons that will fortify us against our enemy. Heroes can illuminate the path to take, but the choice to walk the road belongs to each one of us. The strength of courage belongs to the individuals who recognize the light within, and choose to liberate it. Humanity’s victory is determined by the courage of the one.

I... had a dream once...

For the past year, ever since I came back from Italy, I've been having a recurring dream. In it, I am in an odd, dangerous, or scary place and there I run into Douglas, my Scottish dad. We sit and talk. Sometimes we were meant to meet there and other times, it's a complete surprise and he tells me off for being alone in such a place. (very true to what he would do if this were real.) We talk and catch up. There is always this nervousness though. I'm afraid and anxious. I know where that comes from. While I was staying with him, Douglas asked me how I knew that I knew that my church was true. Questions about my beliefs or why I did things were normal conversations for us. It was usually easy to say it in a way that  I could assure him that I wasn't pushing my beliefs on to him. This is just why I did what I did. This is what I believed. This question about how I could possibly know, really caught me off guard. I didn't recall ever telling him that I knew anything. But that was the emphasis of his question. I was afraid to tell him, and bare my testimony because I felt I knew it would be crossing a line. I could not tell him my testimony and leave him completely out of it. I couldn't say I knew something was true without implying that other things were wrong. So, I avoided the question. I never answered. He asked it at least twice while I was there, and like the chicken I was, I avoided it. I thought that it was best to keep our friendship. When these dreams began, I knew, instinctively, why it was. In each circumstance I felt the need to finally explain. But I never did. In a few of the dreams I attempted but I got distracted or the dream would end or something would change. When I realized that this was happening. again and again. I realized that it could be the spirit telling me I needed to answer his question. I was at a loss how. I don't have Douglas' email and besides, without the dreams, I'm sure he's forgotten all about it. Writing to him, just to tell him how I knew I knew was so forward and so... not okay. I knew where he and Bianca stood. They were fine learning but they wanted to learn about me. Not about the church. This wasn't just intuitive. Every time we talked they'd put up their hands and say they were happy but, they are curious about me. I was fine, comfortable with that. So, this I knew, i know is crossing a boundary. And that justification continues to put off my need to tell Douglas. There have been times when I have felt the need so strongly that I would start a letter. I even finished a couple. However, looking over them, i knew it wasn't right. Something was missing. Something was off. I couldn't send this letter, which could seriously strain our friendship, unless it's basically perfect. Until I knew it was God's words behind me because as far as I was concerned, this was his idea, not mine.
 This week, I was sitting in my fantastic New Testament class. My teacher (who is also my stake president and one of the wisest people i know) took us to a verse. Matt 13:58. " And he did not many mighty works there because of their ^aunbelief." President Baron talked about how that could be a hit to the gut. Because we do not believe God cannot perform all the miracles he would. Well, I have felt prompted in other places and by other speakers but the doctrine and power that President Baron teaches with pretty much pounded me. I realized that I wasn't living with faith in this. I was afraid. I did not believe that God could make any good come from my testimony. I did not believe that he could change hearts. and that belief was preventing it from happening. So the rest of the day was miserable until I finally got a moment (which turned into 3 hours) where I could go on my own and officially not care what it sounded like, or how touching it was,  I was writing down my testimony. When I was done, with a lot of tears, and a lot of prayers,  I felt like it was what I was supposed to write. It was what I was supposed to send.
Yesterday I had a dream that I was in Bergamo. I was with Scott and Finlay and Douglas and Bianca and we were all happier than we had been in a long time. I was rolling around with the boys and talking to Douglas and Bianca. They weren't converted or anything. That's not what this post is about. In fact, nothing had changed except that we were all happy. I woke up elated, and relieved.
Maybe it's the spirit. Maybe it's my psyche. Maybe it's both. Maybe it doesn't matter. I just felt like everything was finally okay. Not because they accepted what I sent but because I acted with faith in God instead of fear of man. Because I made Him my master. That makes all the difference. In my head, and my heart, and in my life.When they get that package, they might not be happy and things might not be okay with us, and that's hard. That dream of us all being happy together might not be the way it really turns out in the end.
So often in life, it's not the end result that matters. I mean, to be blunt, life ends with death. I know that there is Celestial Glory and all that but, is that really an end or a beginning? Sometimes I wonder if it's really about the end. What's the end? Life ends with death and then we live again and it never ends. So, life can't be about where you get in the end. There is no end. It's about what you make of yourself each day. It's about enjoying the ride and making the trip there the best one you can.

Freedom don't come free.

I'm taking a Middle East class this summer and my teacher sent me this article a couple of days ago. It really resounded with me so, here it is.

---

From: Sean Cannon [mailer@brainhoney.com]
Sent: Sunday, July 03, 2011 11:27 AM
Subject: FDINT 203

Students,

On the eve of our celebration of the declaration of American independence, it is worth taking pause from the festivities to realize that others in the world are fighting as hard for their freedom as our forefathers did 235 years ago.

 

Happy 4th!

Brother Cannon

-------------------------

Syrian youth, families pay the price of freedom

By Nazir al-Abdo Los Angeles Times
 Sunday, July 3, 2011

My older brother, Bashir, 26, is one of the thousands of people who have been detained by Bashar Assad's regime in recent weeks.

At first, we didn't know what had happened to him. He and two friends had been missing since they went to the northern city of Jisr al-Shoughur on June 10 to film secretly the protests and the army crackdown there. Then, last week, I was watching Syrian state television when my brother suddenly came on the screen. A caption underneath his image said he had confessed to subversive activities.
Bashir, an economics student at the University of Latakiya, is neither very religious nor very liberal. Like most people in Syria, my brother and I were careful to stay away from political activity. The secret police watch everyone, and they can twist the most mundane statements and actions into evidence of subversive activity. Even growing a short beard might prompt the secret police to report: "His beard is now one centimeter long." This would be presented as evidence of Islamist extremism.

When the protests began, Bashir decided to start filming the ones in our area and posting the footage on YouTube and other channels so people outside the country would know what was happening. Our parents were very opposed and warned Bashir that he could be imprisoned.

But Bashir defied them. He saw the possibility of living a free life, without the constant fear of arrest or worse.

He tried to explain that to my parents. "Now is the time for change," he said. "I don't want my children one day to live under this regime."

He had watched what happened in Egypt, Tunisia and Libya, and he felt that this was the moment for Syria too.
It took a lot of courage to do what Bashir did. Taking out his cellphone and filming in public made it almost certain that observers would inform on him. I admired that courage but didn't dare to do the same.

Then, about a month ago, I was writing my university exams when I received a call from Bashir. I said I couldn't talk, but he interrupted me: "Leave right away. They have found out my name, and they will come for you as well."

I got up and left, and since then I have lived on the run. I also have joined the struggle for Syria's freedom.

Earlier this month, Bashir and I finally saw each other in a camp on the Syrian-Turkish border. We talked deep into the night about our work, our hopes that the protests would succeed and how terrified we were. Very early the next morning, he got up and left to film with his friends.
When he disappeared, I assumed he was in hiding, as it is often difficult for young men to move around with all the checkpoints. But as the days went on, even as I told my parents not to be alarmed, I became increasingly worried that he had been arrested.
When he appeared on Syrian state television, I grew dizzy. We were in a room full of activists, and I broke down in tears. Everyone knows that when people appear on state television in Syria to make "confessions," they have been brutally tortured and forced to lie.
One of the friends he disappeared with was also on the television "confessing." Bashir and his friend looked drugged and tired. They named many of the other activists, and as I looked around the room I could see faces cloud over with worry for themselves and their families. Syria's security services regularly detain family members to pressure activists to turn themselves in. It is terrible to know that we are putting our families at risk.
In their confessions, my brother and his friend claimed that they had videotaped the crimes of "armed gangs" and small protests of just a dozen people, but that other activists had doctored the footage to make the protests look larger and to make it appear as if the security services and the army were responsible for killing citizens. I couldn't bear to watch and ran out of the room.
I dreaded calling my parents to tell them about Bashir's arrest. Finally, my dad called me. I had been afraid that my parents would beg me to stop my activities and return home, so I jumped in and explained to my father how we had to continue our struggle, how this was the moment for creating a new Syria.
He listened and finally gave his permission, saying, "Go, my brave son. You are now truly a man." I could hear my mother crying.
All we want is our freedom. We know the cost, but we are ready to pay the price. With 1,300 dead already, we cannot give up now, because their deaths would have been in vain.
In the room with me watching my brother confess to crimes he didn't commit were two fellow activists whose brothers have already been killed, shot dead while protesting. They are carrying on the struggle their brothers started.
I will do the same, continuing Bashir's peaceful struggle with the courage he taught me.
Nazir al-Abdo is a Syrian democracy activist currently in Turkey. He wrote this for the Los Angeles Times. Peter Bouckaert translated this piece.

Sent from BrainHoney on behalf of Sean Cannon
Course:	FDINT203 05 ~ Spring 2011

Concluding this adventure

Well, by the time it came, I was ready and I suppose that is good in a lot of ways. I spent my last few days in Citta Alta and honestly, when it comes down to it, Bergamo had to be one of my favorite places in all of my exploring.

I met so many people and i've learned so much and i'm mostly the same person but, i've changed a ton. I understand the world a lot better and i'm in absolute awe of it. Italy never sank in. I got used to it being reality but, i never lost my awe and excitement for what it was. I'm kind of happy that i didn't stay longer because I don't want to ever lose my awe for it.

I feel like my faith has been tested more than ever before. I've actually realized that I've gained more of an understanding of Faith, Hope and Charity in these last few months than i ever have. I've never been able to understand hope and i wish i could explain it now.

One thing i've learned as i've studied Italian is that if you only ever speak in English, you'll never be able to fully express yourself. I don't know everything in Italian but, what I do know now seems to have opened up a whole world of communication. I think the same goes with music and art. There are so many better ways to explain things than through words and so many more words to say things if you know more languages and I think that I came to know more about Hope through more feelings, and actions than i did through talking about it. i'm not trying to make excuses for why i'm not explaining things but, I've tried to explain it to some friends and it just never comes out as strongly as i feel about it. English needs to be expanded first. or my communication does.

Scott and Finlay bought me a ring with 2 dangly hearts on it for my birthday. One day while I was walking Raffaella's dog with the babies, he yanked really hard and one of them came off in the street. We stopped and looked for it for a while but, thinking poetically, I gave it up. Some part of me is staying in those streets and almost even belongs in those streets.

London

This blog is concerning events that took place 3/26/11-3/27/11

I was so excited to go to London and be able to understand everyone. It turns out that I usually had a harder time understanding than Bianca did. As soon as we got off the plane we took a train to the underground. That’s how I got around London. Trains.

I did actually go to King’s Cross but, I don’t think it was the station. Anyway it didn’t look anything like Harry Potter and there was no platform 9 ¾.

The first day I was really nervous about getting all the souvenirs I could because I didn’t want to spend money on it on Sunday. We did the major sightseeing this first day.

As we were walking towards Big Ben and all of that, we realized that there was a huge protest going on. We asked a guard if it would be safe to go and he said yeah. The problem was the protesters were taking up all the area by the things we wanted to see so we had to go through them. We ended up getting a poster and shouting with them, just so we looked authentic. I might add that this trip I was the youngest. It was Bianca and her dance students, a co-worker (Eliana who I actually hung out with before) and me.  So, it’s not like we were putting kids in danger of the crowd. And if anyone heard about it, I assure you that when we were there, it was safe.

We took pictures of Big Ben while marching. Once we got out we walked to Westminster Church/Cathedral. We couldn’t go inside but, this is where the William and Kate are getting married. So, everyone had decided that we all had to get a cup with William and Kate on it, to remember our trip to London. I was like ‘okay, whatever.’ I had to get it as soon as I could though because I didn’t want to be badgered about it on Sunday. So I got one in that church, and I’m pretty sure I ended up being the only one to get it but, that’s okay. I’ll never forget that church now and otherwise it would have been a pretty fleeting memory.

I don’t remember as much about London as I do about Rome because there is so much less to see. We only stayed Saturday-Sunday and we pretty much ran ourselves ragged on Saturday. We went to Harrods. This store, is not like any other store. There was a woman singing on the inside balcony. There were security men all over and people dressed up in formals to check you out and direct you through the several levels of the place. It was amazing.

After Harrods we went to eat at a pub and discovered that there was a big Soccer match, Scotland vs. Brazil to be played on Sunday. Scotsmen were beginning to appear everywhere. From what I understand, the Scotts would be awesome to play for because they are basically the coolest fans ever. They take over cities when there is a match. Usually they take over the bars, which was why they were in the pub.

They were pretty hilarious but, I won’t go into the graphic details. After eating we went back to the hotel to freshen up and then go see “The Most Incredible Thing.” The reason we went to London is because one of Bianca’s friends danced in this act. We were so tired by the time it came around though.

I loved the dance. It was “the Most incredible thing” I’ve ever seen. It made me crave to see all the other performances London has going on. Next time. We were invited to a cast party but, we could barely keep our eyes open so we went home and went to bed

Sunday we saw the changing of the guard at Buckinham palace. That was the highlight of that day. The rest was shopping and as it was Sunday I couldn’t be to enthralled with anything. Bianca bought me a nutella spreader in honor of my love for nutella.

We went to a big department store kind of like Harrods but, not as intense or as rich. We saw a crowd of Scotsment with kilts and bagpipes singing "Do-Re-Mi" at the top of their lungs.

Bianca was really sweet all Sunday. I didn’t realize at first but, she was paying for everything so that I wouldn’t have to. She never said anything about it but, when I realized what she was doing I was really touched because with our previous conversations I would have never thought she would do that for me.