Nothing Changes on New Year's Day (?)

Today we celebrate the beginning of a new year, and a new decade. Well, for the purists out there, it’s technically the end of the first decade of the new century, but we’re going to ignore that for now. Tradition tells us that on New Year’s Day we should review our life and make resolutions to change.

This is a good thing. . . in principle. I certainly am aware of my own shortcomings and would like to change some of my less than ideal habits. There’s just one small obstacle: change is hard. In the words of Mark Twain, the start of a New Year "is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." In short, humans are good at starting things, but not so good at seeing them through.

As a result, many of us who have seen a few New Year’s Days come and go still wrestle with the same habits year after year and so we tend to become cynical. We begin to doubt that change is realistic, at least for us. We long for it, but our faith has ebbed. Sure, someone else may be able to, but we aren’t good enough. And each new attempt that yields the same lack of results reinforces this view.

Is that it, then? Are we just not good enough? Is it just the way we are? Or is there something else going on?

I suggest it’s something else. In college I had the good fortune to learn about systems theory. At the heart of systems theory is the concept of equilibrium within a system. Essentially, a system is something that has many interdependent parts, whether it is a machine, an organism, a society or a personality. When one of those parts is changed or disrupted in some way, the other parts work to compensate in order to reassert the original equilibrium or as close an approximation as possible.

A dramatic example I recall from my study was a family in which the father was a recovering alcoholic. On the surface, the other members of the family were pleased with his change. However, their habits and interaction had been formed when the father’s alcoholism was the defining element of their family, and so instead of helping him to remain sober, they unintentionally pushed him back into his addiction.

Understanding the interrelationship of our own habits and the habits of those around us clarifies the extent of the change we are trying to make. While we are trying to change one main habit, there are a host of other habits in ourselves and quite possibly in others around us that will also require attention. For example, if someone wants to stop smoking they should take into account how smoking affects their other habits, like how they spend their work breaks or how they deal with stressful situations, as well as the people around them, such as family, friends and co-workers. It may seem a little daunting, but by being aware of the bigger picture we are much better able to make the change we desire and reap the desired results.

Common wisdom also suggests that it takes fourteen days to establish a new habit. I think this is basically true. Not that the old habit is forever destroyed after two weeks, but the most critical time to create a new pattern in your life is at the beginning. After that it’s about maintenance and vigilance. The heavy lifting is done; now it’s about staying consistent.

But consistency is tough, so it’s important not to be too hard on yourself if you goof up. Not to excuse it, but to recognize that it doesn’t mean it’s over. No one is perfect. Just pick yourself back up, brush yourself off and continue. Figure out what went wrong, which part of the system tripped you up and make the necessary adjustments. Don’t blame others—they too will adapt as your new habit becomes part of your character. Be sure and surround yourself with things and people that reinforce your desire. Find someone you admire or trust, tell them about your goal and then work out a plan to report to them on it regularly. These things will reinforce your commitment and make it easier. Easier is better.

New Year’s Day may only come once a year, but in reality every day is New Year’s Day. In the words of TobyMac’s song “City on our Knees:”

If you gotta start somewhere why not here
If you gotta start sometime why not now
If we gotta start somewhere I say here
If we gotta start sometime I say now

Craziest Mission Moment

A couple of months ago one of my favorite mission companions wrote the following for our mission web site:

“Our "Craziest Moment" happened in Portoviejo. Elder Robert Evans and I were headed home on a dark night and this guy, who I thought was inebriated, bumped into me. As he did, he jerked my bag off of my shoulder and pulled a knife on me and Elder Evans. (What a guy!) When I realized I was being robbed of my bag and its valuables (several copies of the BoM, my scriptures, charlas (discussions), etc. - no money or ID), I suddenly felt a wave of righteous indignation come over me. (That guy just took my bag right off my shoulder. He took my bag! I'm a missionary and that's my missionary bag. You can't steal a missionary's bag from a missionary. That's just wrong!!!)

“So, in my finest español (just 5 months in Ecuador) I called upon him to immediately repent. I demanded (commanded) he put down my bag and walk away or there would be serious consequences (I may have called down the powers of heaven - some details are fuzzy after 20 years ... it happened so fast). He rejected my commands and instead jabbed his knife at me as I pressed him to repent. (Some people! Here we are thousands of miles away from home, teaching the gospel, and this is the thanks we get.)

“I jumped back at each jab (Jack Bauer style) and returned each time with the same call to repentance (PUT DOWN MY BAG or else) ...

“I was making pretty good headway for awhile (at least I thought) until I slipped in the dirt, falling to the ground as our assailant lunged towards me from above.

“No worries! Elder Evans was at my side the entire time (as all good companions are when their fellow missionary is sprawled on the ground with an armed assailant coming at them). Elder Evans jumped towards the assailant, drawing away his attention just in time with a shout I have yet to identify, nor am I able to adequately describe or recreate (you are welcome to ask Elder Evans to recreate it, but be warned). As I was on the ground (not yet giving up, but admittedly feeling more vulnerable), I reached out my hands to push myself up from the ground and I felt several sizable rocks beside me. They were just the size of my grip and large enough to use as object lessons to help me teach the principle of repentance. I jumped to my feet with teaching tools (rocks) in hand, determined to get a commitment by the end of this charla (discussion). Reproving with sharpness, I shouted out my final dire warning demanding he lay down my bag and leave us immediately or certainly suffer the wrath of two angry (filled w/righteous indignation) missionaries. Eyeing the sizable rocks in my hands and overwhelmed with Elder Evan's effective maneuvering and vocal expressions, our assailant paused momentarily, appearing to reevaluate his circumstances. Then, without further notice and not a word ever spoken by him, our assailant dropped my bag to the ground and penitently backed away. I pressed forward, grabbed my bag, looked our assailant directly in his eyes and with complete clarity, declared the obvious, "Gracias y Buenas Noches!"

“Other than that, the rest of the night was pretty calm.”

I thought I’d add my version to Mike’s account (it’s always interesting how different details stand out to different people).

Elder Calta and I were walking down the hillside in Portoviejo after teaching a discussion to a family after dark. While passing near the bus terminal a man walking the opposite direction suddenly bumped into Mike and took occasion to divest Mike of his backpack, which contained several copies of the Book of Mormon plus his camera. The man then turned to face us and drew a knife, threatening us to keep our distance. Mike wasn’t going to take that. He started yelling at the thief, commanding him to return the backpack and telling him that he was stupid and that he was going to die. (“¡Somos misioneros! ¡Tu eres estúpido! ¡Tu vas a morir!”) He also began to make menacing gestures toward the now slightly concerned robber, who slowly backed up.

Meanwhile I just wished that Mike would calm down—it wasn’t worth getting hurt—or worse—over.

Then Mike slipped and fell. The thief moved in closer, intent on pressing his advantage. I had to think fast. I quickly grabbed some rocks (I wasn’t going to get close to a guy with a knife) and cocked my arm back, ready to throw. Shouting at the thief to get his attention apparently I really got Mike’s attention as well. Mike followed my lead and also grabbed some rocks. The robber, recognizing that we weren’t the easy prey that he had imagined, again began to back up. Now back on his feet, Mike continued to threaten the man verbally and with actions (Think, “c’mon, you wanna piece of me?”). That was too much for the poor guy. Shaking visibly, he set the backpack down and backed away.

Mike picked up his backpack, looked the thief in the eyes and spoke loudly, “¡Gracias y buenas noches!”

From that experience I learned not to make Mike mad, and that a 5’ 5”, 120 lbs. guy should think twice about taking on two crazy Americans. You never know, they might know karate, just like all the Americans on TV.

Two or Three Witnesses

Yesterday morning I was driving to the Atlanta airport to catch my 7:15 flight home. I had checked on the computer the night before and saw that there were plenty of seats and I looked forward to a relaxed commute home. Well, fairly relaxed. I would have to make a connection in Denver, since the nonstop to Salt Lake City was pretty full with lots of other people like me on the standby list for whatever few seats were available. But I would get home by noon, which was the important part.

So while driving I called up the airline to reserve the “jumpseat”—the extra observation seat that every airliner has in the cockpit. Nearly every U.S. airline has agreements in place so that a pilot from any of the participating airlines can ride up front (or in back if there are empty seats) on any of the participating airlines. This has gotten me home at least a third of the time and is invaluable. Anyway, in process of making the reservation I discovered much to my dismay that the flight actually was departing at 6:30, not 7:15. Was the website wrong? I recalled that another website showed the flight leaving at 6:30, but since the company’s website showed 7:15, I assumed (take note of that word) that the company’s website was correct.

Panic struck me as I drove to the ASA parking lot. By my calculations, if I was lucky I would arrive at the terminal at 6:15. Maybe I could still make it. The bus made good time, and after an agonizing 60 second delay waiting for an airplane to get out of the way. At 6:16 I got out of the bus, ran for a jet bridge (remember, I’m outside with the airplanes), hiked up the stairs, entered the terminal and sprinted for the gate. I got there at 6:19 (gate agents try to close the door at ten minutes prior). I made it! Success!

Except the flight was full, and although I had reserved the jumpseat I hadn’t been there early enough to claim it. Three other pilots were in front of me. Failure! Doom!

Now when would I get home? Well, to make a long story short, the next flight I could reasonably try was the nonstop to Salt Lake City, and while the airplane was full, I was first in line for the jumpseat. I got home by noon, and all was well.

I felt very blessed yesterday, in spite of my initial bad luck. I also learned (re-learned) an important lesson: if something doesn’t seem right, like two websites disagreeing about when a flight was scheduled to leave, then the only smart thing to do is to dig deeper until you find out which one is correct. What I had inadvertently done is mix up the 7:15PM flight with the 6:30AM flight. The second website wasn’t wrong, nor was the airline’s website. What was in error was my perception, my interpretation.

The scriptures teach this point: “In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.” (2 Corinthians 13:1) This isn’t just a spiritual principle, but a practical day-by-day one as well. And I need to assume a whole lot less.

Rocks

Something I’ve never been especially good at is time management. I understand the basic principles, but generally lack the will-power to see it through as effectively as I should. Sometimes I’m very on-the-ball and other times I am a slacker. It’s easy to stay busy sometimes, but not accomplish much of anything.

One of the concepts that I’m trying to better implement I first learned from Stephen R. Covey, the well-known productivity expert. In a PBS special he demonstrated how often we tend to let the little things get in the way of the things that matter, preventing us from giving them adequate attention. Here’s a quick version of the concept:



The key is determining what the rocks are and scheduling that time as inviolate. Church is an easy one, as is work. In my profession, arriving late for work is a quick and easy way to get fired. What are the other rocks? Family time? Couple time for those who are married? Exercise? Sleep? Ah, sleep—the time that tends to absorb the other things that didn’t get done earlier. How often do we miss out on sleep to get caught up? I’m still working on all this, but trying to figure out what my “rocks” are and making sure they do not get pre-empted by the gravel and sand of my life.

The Extraordinary in the Ordinary

It is so easy to judge people by looking at them. In part, the way we dress ourselves, groom ourselves and carry ourselves communicates a lot of information. But inevitably some information is left out. There are extraoridanary people all around us, and we often don't even suspect. This video from "Britain's Got Talent" is as good an illustration as any I've seen. Unfortunately embedding was disabled on YouTube, so you'll have to click on this link to see it. Next time you see someone, whether you know them well or have never met them before, you might wonder what extraordinary talent or skill makes them, well, extraordinary.

If Only I Could Paint

If only I could paint. There is a moment in scripture of profound emotional intensity and depth that fills my soul perhaps more than any other. It is that instant when hope banishes despair.

Imagine you are Mary Magdalene. Just two days ago your teacher, your mentor, your friend, your God was executed. All of your hopes, earthly and eternal, were wrapped up in him. And now he is gone. Dead.

Early Sunday morning, still dark and the air chilled, you walk to his tomb. There had been no time to properly prepare his body before the Sabbath and so now you are bringing spices and herbs to do it right. But upon arriving you find the stone rolled away and as you peer in with your lamp you see the tomb is empty. His death was not enough—now his enemies have stolen his body and most likely desecrated it.

You run to find Simon Peter and John to tell them the crushing news. The two immediately leave to see if it is true. You follow, and after the apostles return to the city you remain, standing and crying, your emotions completely overwhelming you. Out of the corner of your eye you see someone walking toward you in the shadowy light of dawn.

He asks, “Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?”

You reply meekly, “Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.”

There is a pause and then the man speaks again, calling you by name. “Mary.”

You recognize the voice, impossible as it seems. You turn hesitantly, not daring to believe, and see that it is indeed Jesus.

That is the moment, when hopelessness gives way to joy, when defeat yields to triumph, when despair is banished by promise. I can picture Mary’s face, her eyes wet with tears and wide with surprise, her mouth open, her lips trembling, forming an involuntary smile.

That is the moment that sums up the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ, who gives us “beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (Isaiah 61:3)

There are many works of art showing Mary at the tomb, but this exact view I have never seen depicted, at least the way I envision it. If only I could paint. . . .

Birthday Traditions

Nine years ago my wife informed me that we were going out for my birthday. I don’t remember if I was expecting a movie or some other activity, but I didn’t have much time to wonder—we only drove three blocks and stopped in front of a neighbor’s house. “I just have to get something,” she told me, but urged me to come with her to the door. Being somewhat clueless generally, I didn’t suspect anything. Not until the door opened and a dozen people yelled, “Surprise!” Yes, she had planned a surprise birthday party for me with all of our friends in our new neighborhood. And, because she really loved me, she had arranged for the guys to play Risk while the girls played other games. Do I have an awesome wife, or what? (And do not answer, “what.”)

Since then this has become an annual tradition. The attendees have changed from year to year, although the core remains the same. Some years several couldn’t make it, and so Risk had to wait until another year. But it was really about the friendships, anyway.

This year we are going to try and start a new tradition—really an extension of the old. You see, we have been holding these birthday parties in our old neighborhood in Orem with the friends we have there. Now we want to do the same thing with our new friends in Provo. So, if you’re reading this and have some time to come by on April 24th, you are heartily invited, whether you live in our Provo neighborhood or not. It promises to be a pretty large gathering. Games* will be played. A good time will be had by all. I hope to see you there.

(*Games include, but are not limited to, Apples to Apples, Risk, Cranium, Flux (Monty Python Edition), The Great Dalmuti, and many others. Bring your own! And I should mention that my brother-in-law gave me a new version of Risk for my birthday this year. It took some time to learn, but it’s a lot of fun, too. I’m sure it will be one of the games out on the 25th.)