Lighten up Elder Thompson

So, I just wrote and erased an entire post. Chalk it up to being tired physically and emotionally. It seems like little fragments of who I am or what I value are waging my own private war with my thoughts. Not an entirely uncommon experience, but not a pleasant one either. I guess most of it comes back in part to what my mission president told me, "Lighten up Elder Thompson." The significance of this is compounded when you consider that he told me this twice in a four month period. I think one of the challenges I've struggled with is deciding when to be happy. I know that sounds twisted or pathetic, but let me explain. To me, it all comes back to personal progress. I know I need to be happy with the progress that I make, that's easy. The hard part is deciding when to be happy with being imperfect. I guess I'm afraid that if I am happy with imperfection I won't work to become better. At the same time, I don't want to be some self-absorbed masochistic wreck. It seems like I end up on the later side more often than I'd like to admit. Usually I have something to conclude a post with that sort of sums things up. I guess I don't know how to sum this one up.

Life, Death and the directions

There have been more than a few things lately that have got me thinking. Yesterday, or technically two days ago I went to the funeral for the father of a high school friend. Her father died of cancer. He was diagnosed in May of this year. Some of you know and some don't, my own father has leukemia. He was diagnosed in July of this year. It's been far more difficult for both of my parents to deal with than I had imagined. I am not real sure how I feel about the whole thing. When we drove up to the cemetery I noticed that it was on a dead end. What a comfort to realize that there are no dead ends in the eternal scheme of things. In the words of Semisonic, though they probably ripped them off, "every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end." The one real constant with life seems to be change. As soon as we feel like we have one thing figured out it seems like we're hit by another. It's funny though (which of course means it's not funny ha ha, but funny hmmm) people try to map out their lives, but isn't that like drawing a map of a place you've never been before? I think when all is said and done the most important thing is to have a direction to go and things to do along the way. For my dad I think the direction has always been from selfishness to unselfishness and the good things along the ways has been helping people, almost invariably expecting and receiving little in return. I think my own life has been a somewhat different direction. For me life has always been about moving from ignorance to understanding. The good things along the way part could use some work. In the last few weeks I've really come to appreciate the value of even small acts of kindness for others. Now, I just need to figure out how to perform such service more naturally; I hate when I feel like I'm faking being good, if that makes any sense. Being fake-good leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

The Beast that is Bio 100

I just got out of my Keys to Scripture Study final a few minutes ago. For once I think I actually came close to being prepared. I probably got an 80-85% on it, which is great for me considering it was largely memorization based, and I hate memorization. Now I have a final at 5:45pm, a scant 45 minutes after my previous final. I don't think this one should be too bad though. A large portion of the class itself has been based off of being able to use reason and analysis. I don't think it should be a problem. I will be extra careful though since I blew off one of the rather weighty assignments a few weeks ago. Either way I'm not too worried about it. So I have to say that finals for this semester have gone really well. The only one I have left after this is Biology. Oh Biology 100, how I hate thee so. Would that academia had not nurtured you in her womb, and created such a foul beast to torment the dreams of apathetic youth. What horrors lay inside the body? Who knows truly but Deity himself? Indeed who else needs to know? The inner workings of man must needs remain a mystery lest presently there is no more mystery left to life. What then compatriots? Shall we run amok seeking to unknow the tragic truth that has come upon us? What could make us unhappier than to know ourselves? In truth there is a level of familiarity, or self-knowledge, which stands prerequisite to our happiness. However, there is a boundary across which no man may cross and find himself a happy creature. Amongst the noble quests in life is to know oneself. But we cannot know ourselves in terms so course and base as these! Think, I pray thee, upon how the countenance of a child should fall if he were told the lie that he is nothing more than a collection of fleshy machinery. To imagine such a life is to imagine a fate far worse than death, it is to know ourselves as undead, a creation with no soul, with no fire of the heart. Biology 100 your death will not come swiftly enough for my soul. When it is dead, then may I rest, sleep and forget the peril.

A twisted fate and shattered academic motivations

At this point I should officially be working on a research paper. After all, it is due on Tuesday. The only thing is my highlighted and annotated notes seemed to have gone missing. So in the interest of doing the least work possible I'll wait to talk to my roommates and see if someone else moved them, though I seriously doubt it. It's funny, I've thought a lot about why I'm rather apathetic towards school work and I think it all goes back to 6th grade. One fateful day, I was eagerly anticipating the return of my "Banana Split Enrichment Packet" with the standard A beaming from its cover. My expectations, and I might add scholastic motivations, were shattered however as I was met by an A- that seemed to mock me with inhumane glee (which is probably the only sort of glee a packet can have, if indeed a packet can have glee). Later that night, I pulled an evil spirit imitation as I explained my tragedy to my mother via weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth. She assured me that an A- was not the end of the world and that an A- was in fact really good, excellent even. My young and impressionable mind caught hold of this shining truth and adopted it for my own. Thus began my descent into the realm know as mediocrity. At first I stayed away, fearing the consequences of a return to that dark abyss. But the pull was too strong...I indulged again...and again. Gradually, like a slow-acting poison, the mediocrity built up and then, most sadly, killed my scholastic enthusiasm. Thus the birth of half-academic aberration that you all know and love.

A quirk of my brain and more inane zombie dialogue

So I've realized something about myself over the years. My brain is a lazy overachiever. I don't know how many times I've thought through a problem only to forget the solution. Then later I stress thinking about the same problem and start getting a feeling of deja vu. Finally I remember my previous solution and shake my head in disbelief. My only conclusion is that my brain is so proud of itself when I actually come up with a solution that it has to remind me how smart it's been twice. I figure this is intended to make me more forgiving of it when it comes across difficult questions and simply can't focus. Now for instance I am really tired, but I have to stay up to hear from someone. On a totally unrelated note I met a girl tonight with the same name as one of my nieces. It was one of those things where I wondered how weird it would be to be involved with or marry someone with a name of someone else in your life. Honestly I don't know if I could marry a girl named Erin, that would just be too weird. Marrying a girl with your mother's name...gross. I think there is far more connected to names than we often realize. I've noticed that if I only know one person named "Howard" for instance I will assume future Howards I meet are somewhat similar. Or if I was spurned by a girl named "Gertrude" I would not likely pursue other Gertrudes, perhaps for the best. It isn't smart or witty, but it is....uh done. I should never post when I'm tired.