Addiction

It's a good thing I bought into all those standards I learned in Young Women, because I have a pretty addictive personality. I'm pretty sure I'd be addicted to coffee and alcohol if I ever had had the chance to develop a taste for them.

Constant addictions for me include chocolate and more chocolate. Doing "useful" things on the computer before much more useful things like housework. Nail-biting.

Then there's the sporadic addictions that come in waves, like Facebook, which I'm currently not all that interested in. That one was displaced by my latest addiction to the new FamilySearch. And right now I'm trying to supplant my chocolate addiction with clementine oranges, but my mouth is starting to hurt from that one, so I'll probably go back to chocolate soon. Sometimes I'm addicted to gardening, then I move on to reading, sometimes it's my calling, sometimes it's cooking.

Will I ever get to a point where I can let go of an addiction, instead of just replacing it with another? Will I ever find moderation and consistency with all the good things in life?

Correlating

Yesterday I taught a lesson at church about Continuing Revelation and Correlation. It was one of those clumsy lessons that really started to crystallize in my mind after I gave the lesson. Which reminds me again that, like most callings, I'm the one who learns and gains the most from my "service."

How do the pieces of my life correlate? Does what I do every day match what I believe?

In military intelligence usage, correlation is "the process which associates and combines data on a single entity or subject from independent observations, in order to improve the reliability or credibility of the information." In statistics it means something having to do with that graph above.

In the Church Correlation Committee, the focus is on:

purity of doctrine

family and the home

priesthood direction (Jesus Christ)

unity and order

simplicity

proper relationships

Is the stuff I spend my time and resources on the most reliable stuff? Do I get my strength and sustenance from the most credible sources?

Not all the time. But I hope the sum of all I do ends up looking sort of like that graph above, with the steadily upward-climbing line being clear amidst all the noise.

Correlation means stepping back and thinking about these sorts of things every once in a while. It means connecting with my husband to make sure we're on the same page. It means turning to the scriptures to see if I'm still aligned with the truths in those pages. It means hanging out with my kids to see if I still "get" what their ever-changing minds are thinking and worrying about. It means looking back on my life and seeing some paths and dreams I'd like to retrace and revitalize. It means connecting with the older people in my life and realizing that they know a lot more than I thought they did about pretty much everything.

My grandma was on the original Correlation Committee of the Church for 10 years. I called her up to ask about her experience before I gave my lesson. I found I couldn't ask the right questions to get to the heart of what I thought it was all about—I couldn't get my mind to correlate with Grandma's. I quoted her in my lesson, but it ended up being awkward, probably because I didn't say that she was my grandmother, afraid that people might judge me based on her prominence.

My mom, who is older and wiser, is teaching the same lesson in her ward next week. She has invited Grandma (her mother) to come to the lesson and talk in person about Correlation. This surprised me and made me feel sheepish that I tried to distance myself from her in my lesson, not wanting to own up to the correlation between my life and hers.

Correlation could also mean looking back on and reconnecting with my roots, and owning all of them. It's realizing that I am the sum of all of the people in my life, especially the ones I grew up with and formed my reality with. Grandma was the one in my formative years who told me I was the smartest and the greatest, and I know she believed it (and still does). Though I no longer believe her all the time, I realize that who I am is in part because of her, and in some ways I am her. Denying that doesn't change anything. Owning it might. Every experience and every person in my life doesn't need to be completely aligned with perfect or right, as long as I return to perfect and right (God) often enough to make sure my graph lines up in the long run.

Correlation is coming back "home" after exploring the world. It's realizing that everything you ever dreamed of was there all along.

The Death of a Delusion

Rich bought this car today. We are now a two-car family again. And I'm in mourning.

Yeah, it will be dreamy to have a car to myself, and not have to negotiate daily about who gets the car. But this luxury means the death of a dream/delusion.

You see, when we had one car, we were different. We were making a statement that the American Dream does not need to include two gas guzzling cars. We were hippies and nonconformists (or so we thought). We have bikes, and we can pedal our way all over the place. Never mind that this is Texas suburbia, which isn't all that bike-friendly. We find our own safe (circuitous) ways to get places. In theory, I can get everywhere I need to go on my bike--school, library, grocery store (never actually tried it . . .), doctor, dentist, church, Sonic (fast food carries less guilt when you burn calories to get there!).

Having only one car has pushed me to actually ride my bike some of those places, and I love the concept of getting exercise outside without having to schedule it into my day or get a babysitter while I do it. Being a one-car family meant that not only did we save the money that second car would cost, but also the money we might spend on a gym membership, since we get our exercise by actually using our energy to get places. I love it that when we go out the door to go somewhere, Graham heads for the bike first, not the car.

Pride you say? Well yeah, I guess you could call it that. And lack of discipline. Both vices.

After much discussion over some recent life-changes (more on this later), I gave into the idea that this car is pretty much a necessity. Though only two families in our branch in India even owned a car, we need two. Though I can get most everywhere I need to go on my bike, a car in the driveway "just in case" is wise. We can serve better and carpool better this way. We can stop the marital discord that negotiating over the car can cause. We can stop relying on friends and family to bail us out when our one-car world is too small. Rich can be more successful at work with a car to get him there. We might actually guzzle less gas because I won't be dropping Rich off at work or picking him up on rainy days or late days. The disappointingly pragmatic list goes on . . .

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. We live in (suburban) America now, so after almost 1.5 years living here again, we should probably act like we're part of it. Will I continue to ride my bicycle as many places and leave that minivan in the driveway? We'll see. I hope so.

Can you hear me singing that Queen song?

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike!

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like!

Isaac

This photo was taken at the end of my 32nd birthday. I was in a foul mood the whole day for no good reason at all. The kids and I went to IKEA, ate Swedish meatballs for lunch, and then I dumped the fighting kids in the childcare spot for an hour while I tried to have a moment of silence to myself to shop.

The retail therapy at IKEA didn't give me the fix I'd hoped for (does it ever?), so I came home even more grumpy. Rich came home late, and made me a gourmet meal of spaghetti and meatballs (how many meatballs can a girl eat on her birthday?). The kids wrapped presents from Wal-Mart, and I still was mad at the world and my 32-year-old self for being so immature.

That senseless bad mood diffused in this photographed moment, thanks to Isaac, who wrapped something random up that wasn't meant for me at all. Suddenly it was all just hilarious. And happy.

Isaac turned nine last week. He has hairy legs and now wears glasses (and thinks they're cool!). He cracks jokes that are actually funny and knows how to pray with all his heart. He reads Hardy Boys books voraciously and philosophizes about ethics, politics, and space. He is wise and thoughtful, and old enough to realize his mother has feelings, and he can do something to make her day. It's lovely to taste what it can be like to have a son who is also your friend, who just might take care of you into your old age.

Who Makes Sure You Get All the Way to Heaven?

Graham: "Who makes sure you get all the way to heaven?"

Me: "I don't know. Maybe the angels?"

Graham: "No, who really does it. You know. You always know every-fing."

Me: "When did I start knowing everything?"

Graham: "Today you know everything."

At this point I wonder if he's thinking about Poojah who died 366 days ago. (And I forgot to call yesterday on the super-important ritual anniversary day.)

Me: "Do you remember Poojah?"

Graham: "Yes. Poojah died. . . . What's Poojah's front name?"

Me: "Poojah."

Graham: "What's Poojah's back name?"

Me: "Sunderaj."

Graham: "No, her back name is Cutler. Poojah Cutler."

Me: "Maybe her back name should be Cutler, because she feels like part of our family."

Graham: "Yes. That's right. Margaret Cutler and Poojah Cutler."

Renaissance Woman

In my intellectual, angst-filled days of college, spending too much time in the basement of the JKHB at BYU reading and discussing literature, I remember coming to an ah-hah moment one day. I realized that as a stay-at-home mom I can choose to be a Renaissance Woman, a woman who "develop[s] skills in all areas of knowledge, in physical development, in social accomplishments and in the arts" (Wikipedia). I had lofty dreams of constantly learning all sorts of "stuff about stuff," and sharing what I learn with my family, instead of going out and doing one boring job to pay the bills.

I pulled that memory out of my brain today as I was sitting on a bench by the creek, supervising my kids and a neighbor playing with rocks and sticks and fish. At first blush, I laughed a little at my romantic vision of myself at this stage in my life, which doubtless couldn't have included piles of laundry, screaming children, and days when I can't remember what I did, let alone accomplished anything. But as I went back through my day in my mind with Renaissance glasses, I could see the Renaissance woman I had envisioned come to life:

• I rode my bike, with Graham in the back, to school and back twice.
• I spoke with a friend on the phone who has the same freezer as mine about how the thing works and how ours are both not working properly.
• I listened to the news on NPR while cleaning the kitchen.
• I had a visit from my visiting teacher, wherein we discussed the importance of education. We also discussed (bad) literature (Twilight) and I tried to psycho-analyze her and came to understand (a bit) why she loves it so much.
• I studied the scriptures and Church History for my Gospel Doctrine lesson on "Faith in Every Footstep."
• I taught Graham how to spell his name using play-doh and letter-shaped cookie cutters.
• I made no-knead bread to prepare for a cooking class I'm teaching next week (while listening to Mozart!).
• I updated and published my music teaching website.
• I climbed the fig tree with Russell, and discovered with him that if we cut one little branch we can make a nice seat for a little boy.
• I sat by the creek and pulled basil leaves from branches while the boys played with rocks and tried to catch fish in the creek.
• I read a book about a crocodile trying to eat all the animals and one about the sun--library books Russell brought home.
• I worked on our preschool curriculum--laminated ABC charts with the boys, called around for the right workbook, made a spreadsheet with the schedule, and helped find scriptures about standing for truth and righteousness to put in the curriculum.
• I made a giant batch of pesto using basil harvested from our garden and fed our family pasta with pesto.
• I worked on the family budget, figuring out how much money we can spend in the next year in case our income decreases.

Exercise, mechanics, current events, psychology, literature, astronomy, curriculum development, web design, music, horticulture, accounting, culinary arts, teaching, theology, history. All in a day's work for a Renaissance woman! A beautiful life is in the eyes of the beholder, I guess. I'm gonna wear my Renaissance glasses more often.

Released

I got released from my calling that got me started on this blog. Gospel Doctrine teacher is the new one. I'm so excited for this, for having an outside motivation to dig deep into the scriptures and apply them to my life. I do intend to keep posting here, but since I've been oh-so-regular thus far, we'll just have to see. Wisdom and order is definitely still the ideal in all aspects of my life, and I hope to keep working on it and sharing it.

“I do not know of a better way to always remember him than to daily study the scriptures. That covenant is not an abstract notion. It can be honored in meaningful, personal prayer every morning and night and in diligent study of the scriptures. When I served as a stake president and interviewed literally hundreds of members of the Church, I frequently would ask, ‘Do you remember and keep the covenants you have made?’ I do not recall many people answering no. When I would inquire further and ask about their scripture study, some would say, “I do not have time.” Then I would ask about their personal prayers, and the answer often was, “I am not as consistent as I should be.” On some occasions I would then inquire, ‘Do you, in fact, keep the covenant to always remember Him?’” (Elder David A. Bednar, “Understanding the Importance of Scripture Study”).

“The only way you can be sure that a busy schedule doesn’t crowd out scripture study is to establish a regular time to study the scriptures” (President Henry B. Eyring Ensign, July 2005, 24).

“Let there be study of the scriptures at least thirty minutes of each day” (Teachings Of Presidents Of The Church: Harold B. Lee, p.59).

“I have heard many well-intentioned Church leaders and teachers instruct congregations to find time for daily scripture study, ‘even if it’s only one or two verses per day.’ Though I understand the point they are trying to teach and applaud the sincerity of that conviction, may I gently suggest that if we are too busy to spend at least a few minutes every day in the scriptures, then we are probably too busy and should find a way to eliminate or modify whatever activities are making that simple task impossible (Elder M. Russell Ballard, When Thou Art Converted, 68)."