DIS AND DAT

The Extraordinary Power of Cognitive Awareness

2012-02-02T22:27:00.000-08:00

My mind thinks in systems. It likes to organize and classify. And most of the time, it goes into overdrive. But I wouldn't have it any other way because as I get more and more aware of patterns and systems, I've developed cognitive abilities that have either preserved me, given me perspective or enabled me to recognize warnings and predict outcomes. But at a minimum, a cognitive awareness of events and variables in the landscape of my life's journeyings is in and of itself an extraordinary gift.

Young people just beginning to experience independence are especially within the parameters of walking into dangerous mind traps simply because of the nature of where they are in life. Especially still very much dominant in them is the feeling of immortality and invulnerability-- traits necessary for exploration and experimentation. But cognitive abilities or the ability to step back, be aware of dangerous patterns of behaviour, models of thought or even just sudden dangerous situations we may haplessly run into are all results of a deep awareness of the empirical....to be able to see clearly despite what our appetites, passions and arrogance seem to tell us. It's a feeling that lies deep within us that needs to rise above--a spiritual connection if you will, that must override our humanness. Simple cognitive errors can lead to disastrous consequences unless you know how to watch out for them. But how can one even be aware of these errors? Well, just KNOWING about them is the beginning.

WATCH FOR PATTERNS

There is great value in learning to see patterns and then gathering information deduced from seeing these patterns. But of even greater value is the ability to apply these new information to circumstances or experiences different from when the information was first presented. It's easy to see patterns of behaviour in others as we observe and relate to other people. But it's difficult to catch ourselves when we are trapped in a dangerous pattern of thought and behaviour. And even after we've caught ourselves and the patterns become perceivable, the biggest conundrum is the overwhelming realization that replacing a learned behaviour with a better one is even more complicated and challenging especially when our experiences don't provide us with a repertoire of choices.

Being a parent offers me a ring-side seat to seeing how patterns of habit and thought shape the personalities of my children. The younger they are, the easier it was to control their behaviour and environment. But as they got older, some patterns simply rose to the surface to make them who they are. And often, I can see how they use these patterns to their advantage..... and sometimes it is a frustrating, brutal experience to watch them use these patterns of thought and behaviour to their disadvantage. How do you warn yourself when what strengthens you becomes what weakens you?

It took me many years before I figured out a pattern of thought and behaviour that was destructive to my social life. Because of growing up in a severely dysfunctional home, I felt like the most misunderstood person in the world. But it wasn't until I was on an LDS mission that I was jarred to reflect and step back and "see". My companion told me that I was "the most selfish, arrogant person" she had ever met. It caused me to step back. She was right. As I began to 'step back' I caught myself caught in this deadly mind trap: thinking and focusing on the idea that I was unjustly misunderstood. The fact of the matter was, I was just too busy feeling sorry for myself that I had no time to 'see' other people. And what patterns of behaviour did I catch myself doing? Initially, I caught myself in conversations often talking about myself and making everything be about myself. I caught myself thinking that perhaps if I can relate myself to whatever it was everybody was talking about, I can be better appreciated. I was caught in a dangerous mindtrap. In trying to FOCUS on overcoming my insecurity, I was actually sabotaging my relationships with others. I caught myself using the words "I, me, my" in every sentence. I caught myself never saying 'thank you' when complimented because I was trying to be 'humble'. In seeing these patterns, I was able to step back and analyze WHY I was behaving in a way that was not to my advantage. Yes, I am a sensitive, tender person. That's one edge of the sword. But I was also too focused on me. That's the other edge of the sword.

Scott Showalter, a Mennonite dairy farmer was transferring manure from a small pit to a larger pit--a task he had done many times. When he realized that the pipes were clogged, he decided to climb down the pit to try and unclog it. Unfortunately, there was poor ventilation and a lot of deadly, odorless methane gas in the pit. Scott lost consciousness...but not before alerting his assistant who began shouting and alerting Scott's wife and two daughters, 9 and 11. First, his assistant Amous, tried to get in to pull him out but quickly succumbed. Then, Scott's wife got in. Then her two daughters. In the end, all five died and nothing could be done to help them.

Sometimes, we are oblivious to these types of domino-effect patterns--in for example, choosing our friends and associates or who we date or the relationships we choose. Sometimes, the results merely bash our egos. But often enough, the penalties can be stiff and far-reaching. How many more people do we need to watch fall into the pits of bad choices before we learn from their errors? And those of us who survive the pit, how much effort can we expend to warn others?

Seeing and watching for patterns is a cognitive function that we all need to hone constantly and vigilantly.

Perhaps the most important decision we will make in our young lives is the choosing of an eternal companion. Watching for patterns and then applying what you learn becomes critical. For example, the early stage of a relationship is marked by very intense attraction and infatuation. We feel something organic and chemical in our physical bodies. There are butterflies afluttering in our tummies and at times we find it difficult to sleep from the excitement of anticipation of what the next day would bring when you see your beloved again. This is the time when couples overestimate their similarities and affections. Scientists suggest that this period lasts from 9 months to a couple of years. It's all biochemical. The pleasure one feels from this period of attraction is similar to the unsustainable highs one can get from a cocaine snort. How can one step back from these natural perceptions when we are in the throes of making the most important decision of our lives?

Again, it's understanding the information one can get from patterns and then applying this knowledge to new environments in our life that empowers us. This very important stage of a relationship also is the reason why our expectations don't match up. We overestimate our partner's great qualities and want our romance to continue forever. But life's events cannot sustain the unsustainable and we are left to question our choices. BYU culture in this case tends to work against us because our fear of committing moral errors take precedence over the advantage of time, distance and even some healthy separation to tone down the intense infatuation and let life settle in....let the high come down. If we understand these patterns, we can begin to step back and analyze more carefully our situation and realize that there are choices that we never considered when fear and limitations of understanding clouded our vision.

What I want to underscore here is that when we finally seek for answers and desire to replace a learned behaviour with a better one, it is logical that the Spirit will inspire us to do something entirely foreign and sometimes even diametrically opposed to what we perceive our personality can even reach out and accomplish. We may find ourselves questioning the quiet but indubitable whisperings of the Spirit with responses ranging from "I can't do that!" or "I don't feel comfortable doing that" to "No way, I don't want to do that!". The irony of the matter is, if everything were to remain status quo and there is no need for change, the Spirit would have no need to give us instructions. But often, we do receive them in concert with our desire to conform, improve and become more like the Saviour.

SITUATIONAL BLINDNESS

On a trip to Wisconsin, Kurt and I had to rent a car to make a 30 mile drive to a resort in Lake Geneva. Between the two of us, we had 4 different GPS systems--our cell phones, our iPad and the Nuvi. Yet each system had different routes and platforms and I quickly decided that my own Droid cellphone offered the best of both. The drive was easy until we reached the last several miles. The GPS did not match what we were seeing and so we missed the turn. Not to be deterred, Kurt quickly made an assessment of where we were (which took about 2 seconds...), turned around, nixed the GPS and got us where we needed to go. It quickly dawned on me not just how helpless I would have been had I been alone and on the wheel but I also became aware of the panic that I would have felt feeling lost. That is a very good description of situational blindness---when reality does not match your own expectations of what's real to you. It's the failure to remain AWARE of your environment---when the error is perceptual.

Reality is very fluid and limited to one's own belief structure and experiences. "We see the world not as it is, but as we are." (Talmud) and all that line of thought has a lot of truth. And if we are to see the world as best as we can, we need to be the best we can be. And since we can only control ourselves; how we react to our environment and events, we need to always be vigilant...always asking questions. Always alert to subtle changes in the atmosphere of our spiritual domain. The better we are communing with the powers that provide us light and intelligence, the brighter and clearer our perceptions will be of ourselves and how we relate to the world around us.

My HS friend loves her GPS system and uses it constantly. But sometimes travelers can follow their own devices blindly and wind up getting lost because they fail to assess what's outside of themselves, relying solely on their own devices! It's more than just a pun. This situation is just a scale model of a larger environment which is everything--our lives! If we are faithful in desiring more light and knowledge through obedience and gratitude, we become teachable.

A grateful heart packs a huge arsenal of power and defense against the pride that blinds us. Pride is the primary cause of situational blindness and we need to guard against it by always being grateful--not just in our prayers but in the way we treat our family and loved ones. After all, we will be organized as families in the Celestial Kingdom. And families are again, the best scale model of what an exalted life is all about.

CALCULATE YOUR RISKS VERY WISELY

Five days before Christmas in 1987, tragedy struck when the MV Doña Paz, a ferry transporting passengers from Manila, Philippines to the island of Samar crashed into an oil tanker loaded with over 8,000 barrels of petroleum. The ferry sank within minutes giving the doomed passengers no time to even launch the lifeboats.

Painted on the ferry as one climbed aboard are the words: maximum capacity: 1500 people. If one were to line up to board the doomed boat, it would have been easy to calculate that there were easily double that number of people already on board. But Christmas was upon them and many passengers were anxious to get to their destinations. So they took a chance. It's possible that some people did not see those words. Nor could read at all. It's also very possible that for some people, this was just another trip as usual--taking on more people than the capacity--nothing ever happened before, why should anything happen now? But for those who can calculate---would you have continued to board the ferry knowing it was over capacity? Over 4,000 people did not make that calculation. Or perhaps did not care to do so because they were too focused on getting home. Or perhaps because they could not bear to even consider missing another day without their families. And finally, when circumstances become dire and we cannot get off the 'ferry', do we at least have our life jackets on like having the whole armour of God on us at all times? Or figure out an escape plan; place ourselves in strategic spots on the ferry that may allow for escape? Nevertheless, over 4,000 souls were lost within minutes five days before Christmas.

I wonder how many times our emotions have ruled over what we know such that we take such careless risks? Sometimes we are so focused on worrying about what could be---what we don't know---how we'll never know if we don't take a risk. But as I go through life, I realize that there are more and more things that I wanted to know but will never know. And I don't care because I'm happy. Sometimes we are afraid that if we don't pursue something, we may never know if that would have been better than what we know is ahead. Life is full of detours, delays and temptations that derail us. But what I've learned as I've aged and experienced life is that many times, we need to focus on what we know rather than what we don't know. There is so much about what we know that we don't know and appreciate-- we really don't have time to worry about what we don't know. To those who were about to board the ferry, what they knew and could already see--that the boat was already beyond filled to capacity was more important than what they didn't know---which is what would happen if they miss the ferry. But they did not realize that in time.

When we get the chance to go to the sacred grove, we wonder if this was really where it happened. Or whether that tomb in Jerusalem was really where Jesus lay for three days. Or which route did Lehi take to cross the ocean...or where Zarahemla really is. We don't know. But we know a lot....enough to become what God intends us to become. We know enough. So don't let your emotions tell you otherwise. Knowing is better than risking. To obey is better than to sacrifice. Do not risk losing what has been proven and tried for something that is fleeting.

KEEP YOUR FEET FIRMLY PLANTED ON THE GROUND!

I like Napa Valley and Dad and I stayed in a very nice Bed & Breakfast in a little town called Yountville. But in 2003, a very tragic accident happened there.

A 33-year-old Scotsman named Brian Stevenson was among a group of businessmen scheduled to take hot balloon rides. It was a very windy and foggy day so much of their hot balloon experience involved taking pictures from 100 feet in smaller balloons tethered to the ground. Later, a larger balloon was getting ready to give them a ride again, whilst tethered to the ground. But for some reason, perhaps to give the four crew members some assistance, Brian held on to the railing on the bottom of the basket as it was being raised 5 to 6 feet from the ground via hot air from burners. The balloon was NOT tethered to the ground...perhaps unbeknownst to Brian. Within seconds, the balloon lifted up first 50 feet. Then 100. Brian held on. People from the ground began yelling at the captain who was in the basket oblivious to Brian who was barely now hanging on to the bottom of the basket. The burners were just too loud for her to hear the commotion. At about 300 feet, Stevenson let go of the gondola. Or rather, the gondola released him to his death. It was instant.

I wonder what one would have been thinking when the balloon was at about 10-15 feet. "No big deal, I'll just wait until the balloon comes down coz it probably will come down...."? Or at 50 feet: "If I jump, I'd probably break both legs..."? And at 100 feet..."I'd probably break my back and become paralyzed..."? But at 300 feet and fingers already weakened, and at that instant when he knew he could no longer hold on, did he know there would be no other outcome? It's just deadly logic to think that when the balloon starts to go up that it will eventually come down and we can gamble on hanging on. Or when it gets overwhelming, we can just go into denial and let fate decide the outcome for us.

The runaway balloon is a scale model of miscalculated assessments of our risks and rewards. This is why experienced ballooners have a creed that they adhere to: KEEP BOTH FEET FIRMLY PLANTED ON THE GROUND.

When the last Czar of Russia was crowned, there was a great number of festivities and it was announced that a banquet was being prepared for the people of Moscow. On the eve of the banquet, nearly 5,000 people began to gather. First there was rumour that there would be extravagant gifts for everyone which caused much excitement and anticipation. Then, without explanation as to its cause or source, word began to spread that there would not be enough gifts for everybody--which is when panic set in and a stampede of completely irrational people rushing in frenzied anticipation trampled or suffocated to death over 1300 people. There were not even enough coffins in the great city of Moscow for all its dead. Did the reward merit these deaths? They had no idea that what they anticipated as priceless gifts would comprise of a roll of bread, a slice of gingerbread, a piece of sausage and a commemorative mug. Being in a crowd of people who have the same desires and expectations effect changes in us. There is a certain culture in a group; a set of dynamics that most of us don't even consider. And it is easy to be swayed and emboldened. We must be aware that this can be akin to a hot air balloon that can carry us to places we don't really want to go. So we need to keep both feet on the ground and hold on to what we know is right.

DRAW A LINE AND DO NOT CROSS IT

Most people ask me what I teach my children regarding modesty and morality. It's a sticky subject because no one can really articulate in detailed, unequivocal terms where the line is that should not be crossed. All I can do is educate them in frank terms and then let them draw that line for themselves and have faith that they will not cross it.

In May of 1996, Jon Krakauer, a journalist on assignment for Outside magazine, joined a group headed by Rob Hall, co-founder of an expedition guiding company called Adventure Consultants, to climb Mount Everest. In this particular expedition, Rob Hall was joined by two other guides who were to aid 8 climbers of varying experiences to the summit. Each of the 7 climbers paid Hall's company $65,000. Krakauer paid only part of the cost of the adventure in exchange for an ad and coverage in his magazine. With their group were 7 Sherpas, ethnic Nepalese famed for their endurance, cheerful dispositions and superior ability to survive the mountain's harsh conditions. Eight people would not complete the trek in tragic ways--4 of them from Hall's expedition including Hall himself, another guide and 2 of their clients. In fact, 1996 would become the deadliest single year in Everest's history when a total of 15 people would perish in vain attempts to reach the summit. The outcome was totally unnecessary.

There were several factors that contributed to this 'perfect storm'. One was indeed the freak weather that day when oxygen levels dropped to 14%. Another was the sheer number of climbers on this day causing 'traffic' to bottleneck at certain points of the climb. But the one HUGE factor that was easily controllable was the turn-around time. Hall knew and usually followed his own cardinal rule; his own redline: turn around and descend at 2:00pm. Despite the foreboding weather and the obvious delays, Hall made an exception. It would seem that the factors for this fatal exception were exploitative as reported by Krakauer himself. First, psychologically, Hall was competing with another expedition headed by a group called Mountain Madness whose guide, Scott Fischer also met his fatal end. Second, the presence of Krakauer himself added to the pressure to make the exception--the opportunity of a prominent story printed on a prestigious magazine was just too tempting to pass on. Third, the pressure from the clients themselves who had paid Hall a higher price for his expertise and reputation. All these factors pressured Hall to break his own rule, crossing his own redline. By the time the last client reached the summit, the weather had already begun to turn. The outcome was already set in place.

Crossing a line is a dangerous proposition. The biggest problem one encounters after crossing a line is the sheer magnitude of the landscape past the line--there are no more designated lines to warn us of danger and all that is left to do is to improvise. The risk of error is high. That is why going on a 'diet' is self-sabotaging because we keep on crossing lines. As soon as I put a cookie in my mouth, I get off the wagon and I don't know if I will have the will to even climb back on.

In the first chapter of James, we learn much about wavering and going to and fro.

But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed. For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord.A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.

Once we KNOW what to do, we cannot waver because to do so is to cross the line into unknown territory: the territory of disobedience and pride. There is no light and understanding there....only confusion.

Simple cognitive errors can lead to disastrous consequences unless you know how to watch out for them. The ability to even stop and consider is a skill that requires us to slow down, step back and patiently assess, ponder and listen. And as we journey through life's road the Lord sometimes sends wise servants to traverse back on already traveled roads just to guide and warn those who have yet to travel through.

These thoughts have been on my mind for a very long time and it's about time that I made an attempt to articulate and share them with the hope and desire that my children can benefit from my thoughts and ponderings. I hope that we keep our feet firmly planted to the ground and that we don't allow the 'gondolas' and 'hot air balloons' of life to pull us away untethered to all things true. I hope that when we receive or see warning signs, we will not get on the 'ferry' carelessly assuming that 'nothing bad will happen because "we got away with it before". I hope that we set our sights on the real rewards--the visions we can see by the gift and power of the Holy Ghost--a vision of hope in the power of the atonement and what we can become. I hope that we never cross the lines we draw and that if we are ever compelled to make exceptions that we already have the whole armour of God on us. I hope that we don't succumb to the pit as we carelessly or even haplessly fail to take a moment to assess our situation; that we don't follow others just because we think nothing bad can happen to us--because our egos won't allow us clarity to see reality and not our own self-centered perceptions. Cognitive errors are all around us and the hope is that we limit the risk of making egregious mistakes that can complicate our lives or limit our choices by learning to take stock and stepping back to assess our lives, our thought patterns, our behaviour, our priorities and our relationships. This is my warning as well as my counsel as one who has, in varying stages, witnessed or experienced these errors.

We often hear endless rhetoric about following the Spirit and holding on to the rod. But my goal here is to articulate concepts and details that are ever so subtle and invisible to many young people; in fact to many people at large. These are things that are all too often not discussed in an organized, meaningful way. I feel that I have been blessed with a rich heritage and according to my patriarchal blessing, "a good mind" and the Lord expects many good things from me. If I can warn and counsel my children so that their lives may be improved, then I feel that that is a huge, good thing. Be aware and constantly vigilant. Always step back to assess your environment. And always, always-- use the power of the Atonement to fix and elevate your circumstances. That is why He died for us. That is why His love is perfect....and why it is this love that perfects us. Keep your spirit empowered and fueled by the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. And just to be real, keep your mind enlightened by knowledge and the brightness of hope. KNOW these things well. LEARN these things well. And SEE.

Being Old Is Better Than You Think

2012-01-12T12:43:00.000-08:00

Jan 12, 2012--- 56 years old

I feel that I've reached an age that's perfect in every way. I know I am closer to 60 but I still feel firmly planted on family, children, work and many other projects that I feel I've always wanted to accomplish. I still feel like some of my dreams and hopes can be fulfilled. I still feel strong and healthy. On the other hand, I am equally aware that the balance of my earthly life is way past the half-way mark and that every day is now a gift. I am aware that with my genetic disadvantages starting with hypertension & diabetes (syndrome X) and type-A personality that seems to thrive on stress and worry-- all enemies of syndrome X-- my lifespan is compromised and I am like a ticking bomb just waiting for that perfect storm that can either have me debilitated or end my life. So while I feel vibrant and positive, I am also sobered by a sense of foreboding mortality and the inevitable. And it feels good to be still able to look forward to many great accomplishments and lessons. And it feels great to be able to have an even longer dossier of experiences and journeys that empowers me to face challenges.

I don't know how long this great balance is going to last but I am grateful for every, single day. I am also mindful that my completion is my best friend and husband and waking up together every single day is the greatest blessing of all. I am also aware that one day, one of us will lose the other in this earthly life. It is an inevitable event---unless we get the blessing of going together.

So it is a blessed time for me to prepare and make sure that everything is in order. Preparation allows me the luxury of comfort and gives me all the excuse to go forward with life.

I don't know how I am going to bequeath to my children all the benefit of my experiences. But I hope that they also understand that their parents will not always be there and that they need to have the zeal to find out for themselves who their parents really are and seek advise and counsel.

The road of life is not at all different for everyone. The roles, characters, stage or environment will all be different. But the principles that will allow success are all the same. And the pitfalls that paralyze us or the deceptions that divert us from our potential are all the same. Truth and light are universal. And as I age, all the familiar tricks and pitfalls become more visible. They become like the dangerous friends we used to keep in our young rebellious days--we recognize them and from our lessons past, avoid them. And when we see their faces in our children's eyes, we get in battle mode and try our very best to save them from unnecessary harm and detours. We warn, we guide, we become vigilant. And as we journey on and our influence is no longer wanted because of our age, we try to find joy in knowing what we know as we watch the young make the same unnecessary mistakes that we no longer have the energy to warn them about. Instead, I hope that I will just continue playing cards or hopefully, writing about love, life and my labours.

Seeing With Your Eyes

2012-01-10T19:59:00.000-08:00

Magic Eye pictures are fun to look at. You can spot 3D images in what looks like busy printed pictures. It takes time to get your eyes used to the method of seeing the images. And as you begin to 'see' the 3D renditions, a thrill sets in and the further back you look at the print, the object has more depth and sharpness to it. Suddenly, you have a little something that others can't see until they themselves learn how to 'see' through the print. It's magical.

My daughter recently, in a blaze of frustration, asked me why it is that she can't see what I see. She said that she wishes she could have the same conviction about the things I see. I often ponder about that exchange and it somehow disturbs me. The context of the conversation is more complex than I am willing to describe but today a thought just ran into my head.

Lehi was a 'visionary man'. I've always thought that people could see things that I could see. Many times I'll see people and I'd see the 'insides' of them....like I can see what they are hiding and what they really are. Many times I can 'see' what is going to happen or feel something that would indicate a warning to me or for others. Many times the things I 'see' are inexplicable until some time later when things begin to unfold. And still many times, I'd 'hear' a voice or see 'text' or words in my head that instruct me on what to do. Many times these things are random. But these feelings and vistas have always helped me and at times, saved me from danger. So I rely on them and know that I should take them seriously. I don't purport to be like Lehi. But I always thought that others experience the same things I experience. That is, until my husband pointed out to me that I'm the only one he knows who can do that. A gift perhaps?

Laman and Lemuel, the sons of Lehi, murmured endless about their visionary father. That's because they can't 'see' what he sees. Now I don't particularly think that they were completely evil at first. I mean, they did follow their father into the wilderness and then across the wide ocean. They did go back to Jerusalem as told to complete a task or two. I am sure that while living in Jerusalem that they went to their synagogues and tried to live their lives according to the laws. And I do believe that they were at least worthy to be saved and given the privilege to live and prosper in a new land. They probably would have done their home teaching, passed the sacrament, taught Sunday School and their priesthood duties. And for sure, they did most of what their father asked. But still, they could not 'see' what their father saw.

I think that sometimes, as children, there will be times when we cannot see what our parents see. But if, like Nephi, we are born of goodly parents (not perfect....but good...), we may have to believe what they see and heed their counsel. Especially when they feel strongly about things.

When I was almost 19, my mother had a dream. She dreamed that our family crossed a wide body of water and when they reached the other side, I was missing and had been left behind. It scared her so much that she immediately came into my room, roused me awake and told me the dream. Initially, her conviction and emotion scared me. She told me that I had progressed as far as I can within the church and that I needed to go to BYU. Now, I had applied to BYU-Hawaii 2 years previously and received a letter from the dean asking me to reappy when I turned 18. At that point, I decided not to do so. I was happily attending the University of the Philippines as a partial scholar, about to be initiated into a sorority and active in political groups. I also had a boyfriend. I attended church and did everything I was supposed to do as an LDS young woman. But I also did others that were deceitful. I knew it.

My boyfriend was my escape from all the burden and responsibilities that weighed so heavily on me. And I felt that no one really understood me, loved me as freely and appreciated me as much as he did. My whole world seemed to encompass his. And I had this relationship behind my parent's back. He was a good man. He went to an exclusive private college. He had pedigree. He drove a nice orange model T that was his pride. He was smart and talented and worked providing voice-overs-- dubbing HongKong made kung-fu movies into English. He was a catch. And he was crazy about me. Leaving him was not an option.

There were many confrontations with my parents regarding him. He was not LDS. He smoked and drank. But other than that, he was perfect. I could not 'see' what my parents were seeing about him. I could not see why they were upset about him. I thought our confrontations were about him and their prejudice against non-LDS people and because he was not what they wanted for me. My father would constantly tell me that he was not what he 'saw' in his head for me. How can he 'see' what I can't see?

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The above confrontations would replay two years later. I had done EVERYTHING my parents wanted me to do. I reluctantly left my beloved University, my boyfriend, my sorority, my gang, my charmed life in Manila to attend BYU-Hawaii. One day, feeling particularly lonely, I prayed to God to 'please give me someone to love.' That afternoon, I met Tom. He was also non-LDS. But I would fall helplessly inlove with him and he with me. He would propose to me many times and what pushed me to accept was another confrontation with my father.

My papa was visiting Hawaii from attending Stake Conference in Utah. He found out about Tom. We had a huge confrontation ending with him disowning me. ("You are dead to me.") He told me that this was not what he 'saw' in his head for me. He told me I was worth more than this. He told me that I was not in any position to make 'inspired' decisions because of the life I was living. How dare he judge me? I was living a good life. I attended church, I performed my callings, I worked 20 hours a week and carried a load of classes. But inside me, I KNEW he was right. But how dare he anyway? That's when I decided I would marry Tom. Because he was the only one who understood me and with him, I felt happy and free. And if he's a good man, which he is, surely one day he will be baptized and marry me in the temple. It's not a risk if he's a good man who fears God. And he did. No one can judge that. Not even my father who does not even know him. I am the only one who can make that determination.

How wrong I was. And my father was right. I did not marry Tom. Later, I would choose to serve a mission. My father 'saw' in his head that I was supposed to serve a mission and so I did. It was a very wise decision. My father was not always a good father. But when he was, he was very, very wonderful. And despite his many faults, he still received inspiration for my benefit and empowerment. Such is the case because though he was flawed, his love for me was real and deep. He still saw and knew things in my behalf.

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If Laman and Lemuel were not so bad and had the priesthood and if they did all that they were asked to do; some even very difficult tasks, why then could they not be given the same vision and signs that their father saw so they can know for a surety regarding their fate? Obviously their attitudes were problematic and became worse as time went by. But there are many times when we don't see what our parents see for us and we'd rather not do as they counsel because we think we know better. We think we are entitled to 'see' as they see.

God sees what is good and knows the path that we should follow. He knows our potential and knows what we should be doing. And yet, over and over we do not 'see' what he sees either. We continue to wander and err thinking that its much better to experience sorrow for ourselves so we can know joy better--not realizing that earthly life comes packaged with sorrows and challenges anyway and that we don't need to complicate matters by actively taking unnecessary risks. I think that is why we have righteous parents. If you are born of goodly parents, thank your God continuously.

As parents it is a great challenge to know how to act when a child willingly enters a moving train that is about to wreck. The child thinks it's exciting and nothing can hurt him. But as parents we know better because we know where the destination is. Do we chase the train and drag him off of it as he thrashes, curses and hates us, inflicting pain and defiance as we do so? While there's still time to save him? Or do we watch and wait until the train crashes and then with crushed hearts and bowed heads try and pick up the pieces and hopefully put them back together? Should we fight with all our might? Or harden our hearts and allow the terrible end to happen? I don't know the answers.

Of Birds and Signs

2012-01-09T13:00:00.000-08:00

It must be my culture. From the time I can remember, I've always looked for signs. Not for signs that God exists. I do not need a sign for that because that knowledge is already etched in my heart. Nor do I need signs to believe that He loves me because all I have to do is look around. The very fact that I am alive is sign enough that He has allowed me to be on this earth. I do not need a sign to know that Jesus is the Messiah. My faith alone tells me that He is real and I endeavor to strengthen my understanding of His atonement and works through careful and consistent study of the scriptures and a personal relationship with my Heavenly Father through earnest and meaningful prayers.

But I can't help but see signs of His enduring love and tender mercies. And I also sometimes see signs and manifestations that give me comfort and reassurance that He is in the details. And many times, I also see signs just to light up the way for me especially when I'm worn down or discouraged.

I've written my thoughts regarding this matter many times. Here, here and here.

Yesterday was a particularly difficult day for me. I was alone on a Sunday morning getting ready for church. I had barely slept the night filled with doubt and worry again about many things. I was second guessing the things that I thought I knew....the things that I thought I had seen in my head. And my heart was also heavy from the events of last week....events that sparked doubts in me.

As I walked to my car to drive myself to church, I was talking to God as is my wont when I am alone. I was telling Him that I really needed my eyes opened...I needed some reassurance so I can see again 'far off'. Then I told myself that everything will be alright---something I've always done from the time I was little.

Later that night, my husband came home from yet another meeting with a story---a story of an improbable coincidence. And a double coincidence. To me, it was not a coincidence but a sign! It was a sign that God is yet again in the details and that He orchestrates amazing things of order.

This event is not a rare event in my life. There are a myriad of such divine synchronicities that fill my heart with indescribable brightness.

No, I am not a sign-seeker. But I am hoping that my faith and belief in a God whose wondrous manifestations of love and His guiding hand are strong enough so that these events are possible. I plead for His help especially for my family and He never lets me down. He is always consistently there for me.

And he that seeketh signs shall see signs, but not unto salvation. Verily, I say unto you, there are those among you who seek signs, and there have been such even from the beginning; But, behold, faith cometh not by signs, but signs follow those that believe. Yea, signs come by faith, not by the will of men, nor as they please, but by the will of God. Yea, signs come by faith, unto mighty works, for without faith no man pleaseth God; and with whom God is angry he is not well pleased; wherefore, unto such he showeth no signs, only in wrath unto their condemnation. Wherefore, I, the Lord, am not pleased with those among you who have sought after signs and wonders for faith, and not for the good of men unto my glory. (D&C 6:7-12)

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

Many years ago, I rested my head against the window of the jet that was to take me back to BYU-Hawaii. I had been in Manila for a few weeks after I had been released from serving a mission in Spain. Those were turbulent weeks filled with strife and stress. My father was on a rampage practically every day, yelling at me and belittling me. It was all confusing. I had been living in a home filled with strife and confusion, duplicity and harm for so many years. And for many years, I waited to grow up so I can take care of myself and take me away from the confusion and darkness of this life I've known. But while I patiently waited to grow up, I knew that God would take care of me. It was a very long and difficult road full of mistakes and errors, challenges and renewals. But patiently, I waited for that time. I was all of 24.

I was in tears as I sat on my airplane seat. I did not mind that the other passengers could see me crying. There were others crying also....obviously because they were sad to leave the homeland. But I was crying because of sadness and isolation. I was relieved to be going back to Hawaii but also full of trepidation about my future. I had no idea what I was going to do when I graduate. I did not want to go back to my home country. But I had no idea how I was going to stay in America without a visa other than a student visa. I had no idea how I was going to find work. I had no idea what lay ahead. But deep inside me I knew that where I was going was where I needed to be. And I kept on praying to God for some enlightenment, some reassurance that all will be well.

As the plane began to taxi on the tarmac, I looked outside the window. It was a warm, humid afternoon. Suddenly, a flock of white birds from the front of the plane gracefully and beautifully glided upwards against the billowy clouds towards the opposite direction we were going. They were so free and happy. My heart began to flutter as a sudden realization clearly and indubitably entered my mind--words that told me that God sent me the birds as a sign to me; to tell me that I am free. That never again will I set foot on this land alone. That never again will I live on this land again. My tears turned to tears of joy. I still did not know how that was going to happen but I KNEW without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord will make it happen for me. I had a clear reassurance that I was going to a new home. And I had a sign.

That was May of 1980. In June of 1981, I married my best friend and sweetheart for time and all eternity. And I have never again returned to my homeland to live there but only for brief visits. The Lord had taken me to a new land, a new life...and allowed me to do a mighty work. I am a wife and mother in a new land, new culture, new language. And I do this with many gifts that He has entrusted me with. I am grateful. So very grateful. The challenges are still mighty. And sometimes, I wish that my children would fully appreciate that because He has placed me deliberately on new grounds that I am as much a gift to them as they are to me. I am not just their mother, I am deliberately their mother.

There are signs all around us that testify of His love and caring. And I am still privy to many manifestations of this love. His works are wondrous and mighty. And I am humbled that He would send me signs and wonders that ease my heart when I feel spent and worn. He continues to lift me up. And never, ever has He forsaken me.

The Almost Necessary Arrogance of Youth

2012-01-05T21:33:00.000-08:00

56 Years on Earth

It has been said that young people feel that they are invincible for a reason: so the men can go to war and the women can have no fear flirting with death every time they have babies. Millions of years have passed since the dawn of man and we still retain our 'flight or fight' instincts from the days when we were close to the biological food chain. I am surprised that no monkeys have been born to humans as of yet. But cheekiness aside...

For generations, the arrogance of youth has served us all well. It is what pushed me to be fearless about adventure and risks. And it is this same arrogance that I now seem to lack as I age. Now I fear making mistakes. I fear taking risks. I feel vulnerable. I feel very mortal. This same lack is what propels me to floss my teeth, obey the rules of the road, obsess over every detail of trips I now plan way in advance, save more money, choose the company I keep more discriminately and choose my battles very carefully....that is, if I even choose to battle anything at all. The necessary arrogance of my youth is now just a shadow that trails behind me. And as I move into the second half of my 50s, I now realize that the things my elders told me and warned me about are true. There is nothing more annoying than to admit that they were all right. And I have to admit that being rebellious and contrary have suddenly become totally unnecessary when these lessons are learned. I have become part of the 'establishment'. Yeah. Me-- the one who marched in protest against government, the one who threw caution to the wind far too many times, the one who didn't think anything of skinny dipping in the moonlight....the one who can fearlessly saunter into a smoky jazz lounge just to listen to music alone and broke wearing a hot, backless summer dress. The one who thought that love and romance were worth the pain. That was me with all the necessary arrogance of youth. And now that I am old, my own children think that I cannot relate to their need for risk-taking. And yet, in my waning years, I cannot help but sound a warning bell-- to raise several red flags along the way for the generations ahead. Because even in youth, one can learn lessons well. I know so.

So. Hold on tight because I am going to tell you, young people, where the pitfalls are so that the road you take will be further than the road I've taken. So that you can climb higher than I've climbed. So that you can enjoy life as it ebbs and flows. Youth, after all, ends quickly. Here now are some of the myths that arrogance made me believe were true.... and unfortunately just made good lyrics for a song or two.

1. Follow your heart and do what makes you happy.

My mother told me that the heart is a poor judge. She was right. It is important that things follow a certain order....certain rules and principles of truth. Even the scriptures say that the Spirit will tell us in our MINDS and in our hearts. I don't think it's a coincidence that it starts in our minds. Both must work together. I do agree that many times, we don't need a thorough, detailed or deep understanding but our minds will also tell us that and we will be aware of its finite nature. Happiness is so fleeting and sometimes, doing the right thing doesn't necessarily bring us immediate 'happiness' but rather, a calm and reassuring feeling. Some of us equate happiness with 'fun'. And that's where many problems begin. In the end, what is right and logical simply has to tip the scale. Sometimes, we don't even think it out before making a decision thinking that the Lord will simply give us a pat answer. Many times we have to wrestle like Enos. Or simply humble ourselves and repent. In any case, to be happy is a decision we make. And wickedness never was happiness. So instead of adhering to this myth, I'd like to say that my mother was right: USE YOUR HEAD. Choose wisely. Make decisions deliberately and with much study.

2. You can't help who you fall inlove with. (Or, love just happens...)

This is probably the biggest crock of all time. Yes, there is attraction. Yes it can be strong. Yes it can drive you nuts. Yes it is exciting and thrilling. I am the biggest romantic of all time. I have been swept away with candles and music. And I know what its like to walk into a room and feel the electricity as men turned their heads towards me. And I know what its like to be wooed over and over. Oh the drama. I loved every second of it. The thrill of it all. I was addicted to all of this. Yes, I was a serial romantic. Engaged over and over. And fallen inlove so many times. It is ADDICTIVE. And to most LDS youth, because of our high moral standards, this is where couples usually are when they decide to marry---at the apex of the thrill. Then a new thrill happens; the thrill of wedding preparations. There simply is no time to get back down to earth. Over and over I've seen this happen at BYU. And as the decades have unfolded, I've also seen the results. It is so rare to have a relationship or courtship that lasts a long time....that stands the test of time. This is the norm where I come from---not the fast paced thrill of BYU culture. I think that courtship must involve time. Sometimes, some distance. And if you're lucky, some challenges. And then, a little bit more time for the thrill to subside and real life to occur. And then when things become normal and loving someone becomes more of a choice and a familiarity ensues, we begin to feel like we're 'home'. That's when love really begins. And if you're lucky, you get to marry your best friend.

3. A relationship should be 50-50. (Or its close cousin, "You have to give it 110%")

As soon as someone comes up with a way to calibrate this, I'll consider its veracity. It sounds good and again its only value is that it makes for a good country song. But my Papa used to tell me that I should marry the man who loves me MORE than I love him. I often scoffed at him when he'd recite this to me over and over. He was also the one who told me to 'collect and select' men. I think he was afraid I would be involved with only ONE man too soon since I started having 'suitors' before I even turned 14. That's when courtship was an art. I hate to admit it, but he is right. Men are just naturally so laser-focused on their concerns and endeavors that its hard for them to really listen and put themselves in others' shoes. It's part of being who they are. An evolutionary necessity. As we inherently take care of home and hearth, they are out creating their niches. So my father is so right. If my man worships the ground I walk on, in all probability, I would be the muse of their endeavors--the reason for all they do. The balance MUST tip that way to fight the urge to focus on other things; to balance that instinct. Because as women, it is inherent in us to nurture and show affection. And we need to be reciprocated. So if you find a man who loves you so much consistently, constantly and without asking much from you, you've won the lottery. If you are the one doing the chasing, BEWARE. You will lose no matter what rationale you can come up with. There is no mistaking here. My father was right. He was so right. And I don't mind admitting it.

4. My spouse loves me no matter what I look like.

Again, this sounds wonderful! Its a wondrous declaration of true love. But my father used to tell me that it's a lot easier to love someone who looks and smells good. I used to scoff at this also because I believed love should know no boundaries. But my father is right again. Sure, my husband has cleaned up my puke when I was sick. He's seen me at my worst. And he still loves me. BUT I always put my make-up on nearly every morning. And I try to dress up pretty every day. And he appreciates it. I can be defiant and wear an oversized tee shirt and sweat pants at home to prove the point. But its still better to wear my skinny jeans and cropped sweater. Or my sexy nightgown. And it's still better to take care of myself and not let myself go and be obese. Looking good takes effort. Never give up. Never, never! My mama always said that I should take pride in my appearance. I used to rebel by wearing odd things. But she was right. So were the generations past. And it's still a good idea for always.

5. My parents don't understand me. We are a new generation and they don't get it.

Never before has the generation gap been properly bridged! We now listen to the same music its irritating. My father used to talk my teen vernacular and we used to laugh when he did that. But I was so relieved that he was so 'cool'. The information age I think has eliminated any generation gap and the only 'gap' that remains is the balance of years of experience -- though sometimes the depth and breadth of experiences between generations can sometimes ease even that difference. So metaphorically, the difference between you and me is just a few paces away such that I have time to warn you and give you directions to avoid tripping, falling or losing your way since I've been there. My experiences are close to yours. And if I look back, I can remember how it was when I was in your shoes. So the biggest myth of all is that we don't 'get you'. Or that we don't know. Because we do.

It's important to assert independence...to cut off apron strings. But don't throw the baby out with the bath water. Such a cliched metaphor there I'm using but its imagery is spot on. It feels powerful and thrilling to be defiant and assert independence but... listen to your parents' counsels. A long time ago, parents used to arrange marriages. There were recent Time and National Geographic magazine articles that assert that arranged marriages have very high rates of success. Highly evolved cultures, even Biblical and scriptural accounts describe this practice. Well, perhaps there's something to be said about the value of such a practice---at least the value of heeding the counsel of wise, loving and righteous parents. Perhaps parents do know us better than we do ourselves. Now that my parents are old and gone, I ponder this possibility with great reverence. And now that I am a parent, I see things. I SEE things that can benefit my children. Perhaps this myth is the biggest one of all.

And though its really annoying to do so, I have to say that my parents were right all along....and I wished I had heeded and obeyed their counsels more seriously.

A Very Sad Day

2012-01-03T16:51:00.000-08:00

Today, my heart was broken into a million pieces...

only a mother's heart can shatter this way.

Something inside me told me to do something to memorialize this day.
Things have to change.

Anak na kinandong sa duyan ng puso

Balisong na madulas at matalim

Salita at padapyas na isinawsaw sa dilim

Biniyak ang mundo ko sa bawat tingin

Di mo ba naaalala ang yapos ni nanay?

O ang tunog ng meme ko sa bawa't pikit mo?

Dasal at iyak sa Bathala't langit

Sa iyo lamang anak kong marikit!

Pikit na nanay, pikit na at matulog

Wala ka nang meme, himig o luha

Ni duyan o kandungan, himala o dasal

Kapag dugo ay mapagmalaki at salawahan

Things I Learned Standing on Grass

2011-12-31T11:00:00.000-08:00

The year 2011 has been quite unsettling for me. The challenges are more subtle but relentless. Most of its impact have been internal. The challenges and conflicts are mostly within myself caused by variables that are, after careful deliberation, very universal. The solutions and remedies required can only be self-discovered since the challenges come from within. But nevertheless, these challenges within me have been brutal. Take note that I believe it's not a coincidence that 2011 is a prime number; a number divisible only by itself. (!) Being the over-analyst that I am, I find that fact a revelation that for some reason brings me some reassurance.

They say that the grass is always greener on the other side. Mostly this notion has taken on quite a metaphoric gravitas on the way things have lined up this year. Mostly its because the internal strife that goes on inside me begs a reboot---a cleaning up of everything and a desire to replace everything with anything different. Because anything is better than the drought that has been building throughout the year. Truly, the grass I was standing on is less verdant than the other side. Or any side for that matter. I just wanted out. There is this dominating feeling that I need to 'move on' or 'move forward' or restart. Replace the old with the new.

There have been health challenges where I wished time would fly faster so that I can recuperate and bypass the pain and discomfort of being sick. I struggled with conquering the diabetes that has threatened my life-style. We've had financial setbacks that surprised us and adjustments had to be made. There were times when fear got the best of me. I was released from doing what I loved--teaching seminary. I never thought that would impact my life so deeply. There were many other challenges that I do not care to list. But nevertheless, my poor spirit was mostly dampened by fear, insecurity, doubt and endless worries. Like I said, the challenges themselves are universal and empirically are not devastating. But for some reason, my internal workings fail to give me perspective and calm in 2011. Perhaps the biggest challenge of 2011 regarding my own health has taken a larger toll. And all I wanted was a free pass so I can move on to other things.

Once, in a conversation with my daughter, I observed that she is in fact, in a very powerful position--a very enviable position. She posited that if 'they all' only knew, they wouldn't envy her. But empirically, the fact of the matter is, she IS in an enviable position regardless. I know because I've been there many times playing all the characters in her dilemma. And she just wants to move on. But I wish she would relish the powerful position she is in for a moment. For the moment that she's in it. It's temporary...and fleeting. That gave me some perspective because I feel anxious for the year to pass because for some reason, I have this illusion that things will suddenly change when the calendar reads 2012. I need to take stock because where I stand can also be an enviable position despite what I feel or think. Empirically, I am in a good place. Always have been.

In contemplating all this, I again pondered my position and all of 2011 where in every difficulty, I wished I were 'somewhere else'' rolling in greener grass than the one I stood on. That's when I realized that my old reliable yard is totally mine. I own it. It's been here for many winters and dry summers. And many happy events when it provided soft grass for tumbling and somersaults, grilling and play and the place where 'everybody' wished they could be.

Sometimes, in the process of trying to make my grass be as green and lush as it can be, it needs help. Sometimes, you need to pile on the shit. Sometimes, the manure burns. Sometimes you need to aerate and sometimes you can trip on the holes. But in time, the grass gets green again. It's the old reliable. And I always know when it's time to fertilize. We sometimes wish for something that's different--perhaps a new adventure that can be stimulating and thrilling because the grass is greener on the other side when we're in the middle of fertilizing or when the loneliness of winter's cold burns the green out. But if I am patient, the grass I stand on will get greener than the other side. It's all in the way we stand on our grass....on our side of the fence.

Exceptions and . . . Spanish Verbs

2011-12-30T11:03:00.000-08:00

Learning how to conjugate verbs in Spanish was difficult for me especially when I resisted learning the language of 'my oppressors' as a young, idealistic teenager growing up in Manila, Philippines. But when I received my mission call to serve in Spain (which was a welcome irony...) I resolved to learn to speak Castellano like a native-speaker. So I memorized a dozen verbs a day.

Growing up, I've always had the notion that I was exceptional. I would surmise that all people feel this way. It has to be so because we are all individuals. But I think that each one of us goes through some exceptional circumstances that require exceptional choices. How do you tackle exceptions especially when living in a culture of compliance---a culture that extols the following of rules and order? I learned the answer to this quandary by learning to conjugate Spanish verbs. And in learning to conjugate Spanish verbs, I also learned a few interesting parallels in life.

1. Most Spanish verbs follow the basic rules. But some verbs are exceptions and you must learn them.

The basic, non-threatening way to learn how to conjugate irregular verbs is by study and memorizing as many verbs as possible--regular or irregular. The more verbs you know, the better it is. Sometimes there are verbs that are regular that you can substitute for the harder, exceptional verbs. It's like casting a bigger net and it helps. Then there is also the little used art of listening. As you hear people speak, you pick up nuances and the more you hear, the more these exceptions become second-nature. So it's important to learn to engage others to speak...and share their opinions, their lives, their stories. It is enriching. And it carries very little risk to your person. Learning from listening to others is a worthy enterprise especially if you learn from articulate and beautiful speakers of the language. If you learn from the best speakers then your Spanish will also be just as beautifully spoken. And then lastly, some irregular verbs you just have to learn by stumbling. You may have memorized them but you may not always use them. And when the time comes, it may not come out right the first time because the first time you actually hear it used in real life is when you hear yourself say it. There is much risk in learning this way but learn you will. Such is life. And how it must be lived. We study, ponder and think. We learn from others by observation and meditation. And we learn from stumbling and erring.

2. Learn the rules and the exceptions will take care of themselves.

Learning the exceptions always require an aside-- as though learning the exceptions require a detour in the normal course of the lesson. We must remain compliant until the time comes when we are faced with an event that requires a seemingly exceptional choice.

3. Even the irregular verbs follow their own rules or patterns of conjugation.

The irony behind this is that when faced with challenges, these exceptional challenges are exceptional only because they are ours. But the principles by which we withstand the winds of adversity are eternal and constant.

Adversity sometimes comes in subtle disguises. What we may think is a life free from serious adversity is in and of itself, an exceptional challenge. Sometimes we think that we want to free ourselves from the banal--the ordinary, the easy and expected because what is on the other side is more exciting. Or sometimes we become blinded by the shiny and new--the unknown journey or even the unseen dangers that may prove to be the thrill itself; when what we deem ordinary and consistently predictable is the exceptional choice that carries with it the extraordinary life that we've always longed for. Beware. Even the exceptional has rules.

4. It is interesting that the verbs of being, possession and knowing are the irregular verbs that require exceptions to the rules of conjugation.

To be, to have, to know---these are the verbs of exception. And yet these are also the verbs that we invariably use in just about every concept and thought. It is inevitable that we use them. And yet, they are the ones that we have to learn to conjugate outside the rules. And the ones that defy the rules. I find that intriguing--especially when whatever principle of intelligence (to know) we attain in this life is what will determine what we become and what we will have. (D&C 130:18)

All things follow their just order. And in order to become exceptional people, we must remain steadfast and true to the principles that are constant and true. The exception actually comes from living the rules.

Mind over heart : Calculating risks.

2011-12-23T19:18:00.001-08:00

My mother turned 80 today. She has dementia and has to be reminded that its her birthday. In years past we always referred to this time as a 'double celebration' because my birthday is 2 days after hers, on Christmas day. But she does not remember.

Confucius supposedly once said that "by three methods we may learn wisdom: first by reflection, which is noblest; second by imitation, which is easiest; and third, by experience, which is hardest."

This morning, as I reflected on years past and the significance of the day, I remembered some of the conversations I had with my mother. At one time, I was 21 years old, a student at BYU-Hawaii and inlove with a wonderful young man who was not LDS. In my mind, he was the most amazing person and he had asked me to marry him. My father had flown from Manila to attend April conference in Salt Lake City and stopped over in Hawaii to visit me. It was not a pleasant visit. My father was very upset about my apparently serious relationship with Tom and had told me that "I was dead to him." But my father could not remain upset. We made up after my boyfriend insisted that he drive me to the airport to see him off. We took pictures of that afternoon. My eyes were clearly swollen from crying. It was a very difficult time. And it was my mother who would give me the wisdom to choose wisely-- to get myself out of a situation that had too many risks.

Often in our little talks, my mother would talk to me about calculated risks. She was a pragmatic person and I was the opposite; full of emotion, drama and passion. And opinions that I whole-heartedly believed in. I believed that to attain happiness, one must follow the heart. It sounded good. But to my mother, it was a formula for walking into a tempest of difficulties. So she would talk to me about risks--that the heart is a poor judge and often impedes clarity. She would tell me that the mind is a more powerful judge for it can sort through the variables and calculate risks. And it was always wise to weigh things carefully. These principles would run through my mind as my father, with great frustration coupled with fear, would yell at me and tell me that marrying this 'non-member' is a huge mistake. That I deserved better. My response would be defiance. But only in my head. I thought that he had no idea how wonderful my boyfriend was. That one day, he would accept the gospel and be baptized. That if I were faithful and stayed true to the church that the Lord would grant me all the desires of my heart. That he was a wonderful person and surely the Lord would one day soften his heart. That if I lived my life as a true example, he would follow. Most of all, the biggest defiant question raced through my head: how do they know? They have no idea.

Calculate your risks. That is what my mother would tell me. So I asked myself that question: what am I risking? What do I really know? And what if what I know does not match what I feel? What if I would be missing out on other possibilities regardless of the risks? Surely the heart does not lie! Amazingly, this very question would also be asked by my own daughter. But this time, I have the benefit of scriptures to underscore my mother's wisdom.

Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things. Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God? (D&C 6:22-23)

I find it inspirational that instead of "feel" we would KNOW concerning the truth. And that instead of "heart", the Lord speaks peace to our MIND.

In D&C 9:8, the Lord also tells us that we must first study in our MINDS before we ask him if 'it be right". And in D&C 8:2, the Lord tells us that he will tell us first in our MIND and then our hearts the things that are true.

In calculating the risks at hand, it was apparent to me in my mind that the possibility that I may have to raise my children outside my religion was much too high a price to risk. I knew it. But inside me, my heart told a different story. My heart tells me to have faith and to believe in the possibility that he may convert--that the risk of losing him was too great. Obviously, I chose to break off the engagement but it was a battle to do so. I thought at one instance that death was a better option than to have to struggle and pass through this hardship. Such drama. And oh boy am I glad that I had enough strength to stick to what I KNEW and not give in to what I felt. It took quite a long time for my emotions to equal what I knew and even now, over 30 years later, I am still reeling from the close call of that time. I think that is the faith that is required of us---to be able to wait for things to equalize because the repercussions of a wise decision can be far-reaching and what will allow us to wait for confirmation is precisely what is spoken of in the scriptures in vast quantity--faith itself. I think that is why the Lord enjoins us to 'cast your MIND upon that night' as in D&C 6:23. And once we KNOW, we must DO. Not after we have done as we know will the true impact be realized. That is the trial of our faith....that is when our minds will equal what we feel in our heart. Just because in the scriptures we are told that the Lord will tell us in our mind first, and then in our heart next, doesn't mean that that will happen immediately. Sometimes, it takes time. And in the interim, we simply cannot doubt what we know.

My mother once woke me up in the middle of the night just because she wanted to tell me that she had a dream and was jolted by it. In her dream, our family was crossing a wide ocean. And upon crossing over, she looked around and could not find me.....that I had been left behind. She pleaded with me to reconsider going to BYU-Hawaii. She told me that I needed to go to this Mormon college because I needed to learn "how to be Mormon" and to grow spiritually. I was defiant again because I loved where I was and did not want to go to a small college 'in the boonies' of Hawaii. But I went and my life has changed for the better. I owe my mother the wonderful life I now live. And to this day, though I FEEL that going to BYU-Hawaii did nothing for my academic career because I was FEELING defiant about being there, I KNOW that it was nevertheless the best thing I ever did because I KNEW my mother was right though at the time, I FELT defiant about staying with my university, my sorority, my friends and my then boyfriend.

Now that I have children of my own, I appreciate all that my mother has taught me. And I can appreciate how right she was because all she prayed for, all she desired, all she dreamed about was a better life for me. I try to pass on these same principles to my children. My mother had the uncanny ability to see things 'far off'. Sometimes it surprised me that she could predict how things will go. But she always just told me that it was just mere calculation. I understand what she means. As I reflect on my life, I do realize that because of my time spent here on earth, I can see 'variables' that my children cannot see. And if this ability is genetic, then I can safely say that I owe it to my mother.

My mother cannot remember things anymore. But I remember them for her. And I hope that my children will remember too and pass them on. I know it. And I also feel it.

Turning 56

2011-12-14T20:21:00.000-08:00

I never thought I would turn 56. And I still can't believe that I am aging. My neck is starting to waddle like a turkey and I have troublesome wrinkles on my forehead. My hands are no longer soft and smooth. Worse, they are no longer dexter. I now use reading glasses and I see whites on the roots of my hair.

I still feel like my fingers can still wrap around the old familiar guitar neck and play some music that can silence a room or make people look. I still feel like I can duplicate some good guitar licks and strums that I hear on the radio or cassette tapes. But when I pick up my guitar, my fingers freeze and my once dependable muscle memory escapes me. So I put the guitar down with sad resignation. The other night, I watched some young teenagers rehearse for a song that they were going to perform at a ward party. Two of them were playing the guitar and couldn't find the proper chords to a part of the song. I asked them if they wanted some help with the chords and they just ignored me as though I didn't know anything. I get it. What would a 55 year old woman know about playing the guitar. But they don't know how good I was. They don't know that I've traveled to many countries because of how good I played. They don't know of adventures I've experienced because of my musical talents. They don't know that I've done concerts, television shows, tours, stage shows. They don't know that I can play the chords to any song I can sing just by listening.

At times I feel like my children don't realize how much I understand them--that my reactions are sometimes aimed at my own experiences being replayed with them playing my role. At times I react out of frustration as I am seized with the realization that my warnings and counsels are not enough to save them from the consequences of their actions or choices. That although I see things with clarity because I've been on that road, I cannot articulate why its important to heed my warning when they can't see what I see. And even when they can understand what I'm saying because they are smarter than I ever was at their age, some thing inside me also tells me that learning experientially from their own errors can be more important than eluding them. So I have to watch them learn experientially....and painful as that may be, it is sometimes necessary. Little do they know that I've passed through the same road. I've loved and been inlove. I've had heartaches such that I couldn't see past the darkness. I've felt loneliness and also exuberance, passion and the thrill of taking risks. At one time I've also felt invincible, untouchable...immortal. And now, as I turn 56, I still want to feel exuberant. But the burdens of responsibility, decorum and expectations are heavy as I age. Perhaps its cellular. Or just what 'old' means.

I sometimes wonder if there is still something in my old bag of tricks that can dazzle like I used to be able to do. I can still hear music in my ears. I can still create. I can still keep up with technology. My mind is still sharp. But at times I catch a glimpse of my image in the mirror at night or in the early mornings and I see an older woman. Her image does not match how I see myself.

I still long for romantic nights, to be held tight, to be taken care of. And I still like to hold hands with my best friend and companion. And I still like to use the private language and secret signs that we playfully created as a young couple inlove.

But oh well. I am blessed with good genes. My mother still looks good at 80. So maybe, just maybe, I can still die 'young'.

Of iPhones and Memories

2011-10-24T17:20:00.000-07:00

My husband's iPhone was stolen 5 weeks ago. It was quite an event for him and though it was only a cell phone, it affected a lot of his daily life:

Me: Kurt, do you have my sister's address?
Kurt: Oh shoot! No! It was in my iphone!

Kurt: Christie! Can you find the email list for my YM program?
Me: Don't you have that list? I don't even know where to begin to find them!
Kurt: Well.....it was in my iphone.

Well...you get the picture. But because he is still under contract with AT&T, he will have to pay the full price for a replacement. Or he can wait until Nov 1 when his contract ends and he can get a new iPhone for less money. So for 6 weeks, he has been using a very small cellphone that cost him $19.95. It cannot email nor access the internet. But it can make and receive calls and texts. It does not have any memory to function more than that and other simple calculations.

My mother suffered a heart attack exactly a week ago. The repercussions have been devastating. She woke up in a highly confused state, not knowing her name, what happened or the date. I am having a difficult time sorting out how this happened and I find that I am woefully ill-prepared to handle these changes. She seems to be going in and out of memory. She turns 80 in a few weeks and was in good health and now...snap!--her life has changed. And so have ours. Her memory is severely compromised and now she will have to learn to build a new life...become a new person.

Memory is such a vital part of one's life and balance. I can't help but see a correlation between Kurt's iphone loss and my mom's loss of memory. Kurt will have to input new data that will aid him in making his work easier. Much pertinent information will be stored in his new iphone and he will rely on it because this small contraption can hold enormous amounts of it. But my mom will have to find a way to make the quality of her life as satisfactory as her memory will permit.

Forgetting is such a debilitating and paralyzing enterprise. There is a reason why we are enjoined to remember the past; to remember the lessons wrought by our challenges, trials and errors. And forgetting can also be merciful as we forget the things that hurt us, enslave us or weaken our resolve to do better.

It's been such a challenge to pass through Gethsemane again....to see my mother lose her functions. But in time, I hope to forget the pain and remember only the good that has come from being her daughter.

Pheasant... peasant...feesunt...

2011-06-27T02:27:00.001-07:00

Can you believe??

Am reposting this story:

So last Saturday, an old friend suddenly calls late at night. She wants to drop by to see my house. Of course, I'm very excited to see her! So she let me talk to the owner of the house they were staying at and I find out that she is only a 10 minute drive from me. GREAT! So I try to give this friend of hers some directions. Here's a little excerpt of our conversation.

Her: Heel-loh. Yees. Wir ees yur hawes?

Me: It's on Pecos and Warm Springs. I'm so close to you.

Her: Ay. Pee-koos. Yah. Yah. Yah. And warm eespreengs. So, ip I goo oon PEEKOOS, wir ees ur hawse? What ees ur ahd-drees?

Me: It's Pheasant Ridge Drive.

Her: Ay. Pee-sant?

Me: (pause) Pheasant. P as in Paul, H as in Harry. Pheasant like....the bird. Ibon baga.

Her: Ah yah. Pee-sant Ridge?

Me: Hindi. (I aspirate my "ph" to distinguish between pheasant and peasant) PHEASANT RIDGE DRIVE. As in, the "bird", you know, pheasant. NOT 'peasant'. (I did not know how else to explain this....so I tried to spell it again....) P as in Philippines, H as in Heavenly.

Her: Oo. Yah. Cree-sent Ridge.

Me: No, not Crescent Ridge, PHEASANT RIDGE. (I am getting annoyed.)

Her: Oo. Pee-sant. Sige. Wee weel paynd it.

Me: (Exasperated) Just tell them to call me when they're in the area. I am only a 10 minute drive. Tatlo o apat na liko lang. (Only 3 or 4 turns.)

************ONE HOUR LATER***********

My cell phone rings. It's my friend. They are on their way to the adjacent city---another city outside the city where I live. I am exhausted. It's late. And I have a deadline to meet. I quickly give them more directions and ask them to call me when they are in the vicinity... They call again. They are now just a street away so I stay on the phone until they find the main street that leads to my house. They are now at the gate. I ask her to hang up her cell phone and call my house on the gate phone so I can buzz the gate open. I wait 10 minutes. I am now alarmed. It does not take that long to ring my house from the gate. The gate phone is just a simple phone! Finally, the phone rings and my daughter buzzes the gate open and I run out the driveway to meet them. They dismiss my instructions and drive straight through instead of turning left where my house is. I see their car driving straight through. Now they will have to drive the loop around. I wait for the car to make the loop. They finally see me. They arrive. I am exhausted. After greeting them, the driver tells me that there must be TWO gates. I say, no, there is only ONE gate and I point to the gate. I am only three houses down from the gate. He looks absolutely perplexed.

Him: No. That's not the gate where we came from.

Me: It most certainly is!

Him: Noooo. That's not the gate we came from. We came in through the other gate.

Me: Believe me---THAT'S the gate you came from.

Him: (looking confused and pointing towards the direction they came from...) But we came from that direction. Isn't there a second gate that way?

Me: No. You made a complete loop around. (I point again to the gate they came in from....) That is the ONLY gate. That's the gate you entered.

Him: Ah.....I thought there were two gates.

Me: (speechless now....)

I decide that the conversation is not going anywhere so I leave it at that. I am dumbfounded.

I asked them what the confusion was. They said that they tried to google my address. They claim that the direction they got was completely different from mine. So they tried to type it again and each time got ANOTHER set of directions. They claim that my street is probably not on the map yet. I am incredulous. I am now really annoyed. I tell them that of course, my street is on the map! I ask them what street they typed on the search line. Oh yeah: CRESCENT Ridge Drive.

U.P. High graduates. Good grief.

Lucy's first dance recital

2011-06-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

Things I lost in the move

2011-06-14T20:07:00.000-07:00

As the years roll by and my hair has begun to turn white, I sometimes find myself lost in thought. I have lived in this, my adopted country for more than I've lived in my home country. I left the Philippines merely two weeks after my 19th year. I had never before flown in an airplane and that first time I did, I dressed up as most people during those days did. I wore a printed blue dress with a bow around my neck and a pair of white platform sandals. It was 1975 and the song "Leaving On A Jet Plane" was constantly being played in my house. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young were hot. And everybody wanted to play the guitar like James Taylor...including me. We stopped to refuel and pick up more passengers in Guam before my final destination: Honolulu, Hawaii. I threw up several times from airsickness and my ears wouldn't pop. I didn't even know they were supposed to or that I could pop them by merely yawning or blowing air while I pinched my nose and closed my mouth. I just felt dizzy and disoriented. And sick.

I did not know what to expect once I'd landed. I had no idea what 'customs' was about or where I could find my luggage. Or if somebody from the university was going to pick me up. But things worked out fine and I found my place.

I found my place. Here I am over 36 years later and I've found my place. Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that I don't belong here and I yearn for that place where it all began just to walk the familiar roads, smell the sweet fragrances that I remember, speak that beautiful language of my youth and soothe myself with that familiar feeling of being "home". I can go back a dozen times but my "home" no longer exists. It is all different now. I am so much different now. And I find that that place I yearn to be exists only in some distant memory. So my heart sinks...searching...pining...longing for something that doesn't exist nor can be recreated. Crestfallen, I quietly weep inside me.

My children, who are only half Filipino, do not speak my language nor were exposed to my culture enough that they can relate to that half of their identities. But this is the result of deliberate choices that I made early on, the reasons being known only to myself. I made these decisions knowingly and with much thought. The reasons are important to me. But I paid a steep price.

So, as I see my grandchildren...all white skin and blue eyes with nary a trace of being a quarter Asian, I ponder and look back to make an assessment of the things I lost in the move... and only I know what they are.

Now, everything I hold dear is in me and so I now realize with exquisite clarity what I need to preserve for the generations to come because what I have is unique and priceless. The generations that follow me will not look like me nor will they understand what I miss when I am alone in my thoughts. I am their Filipino ancestor. I am a pioneer. I bring with me the pride of the Malay race, the strength of the Filipino warrior, the sweet music unique to my people, the resilience that comes from living in a place where the cadence of life is languid and the warmth of the air is sultry. I come from a land where the winds can be sinister, the rains can be relentless...where mountains are active and fire flows under the sea. I come from raw beauty... with mountains home to familiar ghosts and strange creatures and endless terraces carved along their slopes. I come from an archipelago of 7,000 islands and a hundred different languages and dialects. Our statures may be small but our movements and aim are accurate. I come from a long generation of artists and mathematicians, scientists and teachers. I come from brilliance. In my veins flow the gracefulness of the Balangsatan and zarzuela poets and actors, musicians and singers. Languages and eloquence flow freely from my predecessors who speak at least two languages or multiple dialects. And my people move with fluid grace...easily but accurately relaying distinct emotions of love, friendship and solidarity. These are the people of the country of my birth....the place that exists only past the veil of time-- the things that I thought I lost when I moved. I realize...I never lost them. I am the reservoir of all these wonderful gifts. I carry them in my hands. I am a Filipino and I did not lose all that make me what I am when I moved. I pray that my children will find them, cherish them, be proud and pass them on.

"Billy, put down that phylactery, we're Episcopalians!"

2011-06-06T17:31:00.000-07:00

I had the supreme pleasure a few years ago, of watching a wonderful Broadway play by Yasmin Reza called "Art" which starred Alan Alda and Victor Garber. I enjoyed the dialogue so much that I remember thinking...whoa--it would be great to hear dialogue like that in real life! I love beautifully spoken sentences. And I love beautifully constructed sentences! I used to collect sentences when I was in high school.

The English language is so beautiful and I tend to be a purist. I like using "dove" instead of "dived". And I love it when the word "lie" is used properly to mean "lie down" as in "to lie down and sleep" instead of the common error that most Americans say, "I'm going to lay down here". And lately, I've been hearing people say "shined" instead of "shone". I am afraid that that might evolve into acceptable language and I'm already aghast thinking of that possibility.

I am mortified when I see the words "should of been" in written English. What exactly does that mean? Should of been? South of been? North of should? Should of New York City? I mean, come on! I should HAVE been more tolerant. But "should of been" does not make any lick of sense and anyone who understands grammar would know that "should have been" is the correct phrase. After all, it's part of the past passive modal tense--specifically the past passive form which is composed of the modal + have been + participle, i.e. "You should have been taught this rule in third grade--what's wrong with your teacher?"

These days I also hear a lot of people using 'a' and 'an' improperly. "I want a apple." I hear this and it's like someone scratching on the blackboard with their nails. I mean, honestly.

How about this: the violent murder of the phrase "in lieu of", from the French "in place of" which means, "instead of." I've heard people say: In lieu of the time, we will dispense with the closing hymn. And I cringe. I cringe like a miserable, constipated old cow. This is tantamount to saying "Instead of the time, we will do this..." And what exactly does that mean? Just picture me with a face like this: :0

English elegantly spoken is just beautiful. I wish I could be more articulate and eloquent. But I least I don't say, "I should of known that" or "I wish she shined more light on me."

I know there are still many, who like me, appreciate the English language. Oh I do enjoy speaking the dialect of the region. I love speaking Pidgin English in Hawaii. And I like to pretend to use phrases like "fixin' to do that" or "mo bettah we live in Las Vegas". But elegantly written English is a wonder to behold. And English elegantly spoken is like music to my ears. And it just tells me that the person I heard speaking beautiful language has to be, in all certainly and most indubitably be educated and intelligent. And I can thus listen and be inspired. Or listen and be enriched.

It wasn't about the looks

2011-05-05T21:50:00.000-07:00

The pictures above tell a story. The first photo was taken in June of 2010. I weighed about 172 lbs. When I saw this photo, I was taken aback because of how terrible I looked. First of all, my eyes were not clear. In fact, they were yellow and red. My face looked inflamed. My colour was bad...like the light in my face was dim. I noticed a few things about my health during this time. I had constant pains in my lower left flank. I thought that perhaps that I had something wrong with my kidneys. I remember spending a weekend at my friend's house in Danville, CA and going to the bathroom every half hour. I thought that was strange. But I was also often thirsty so I drank constantly. I also noticed that my thinking seemed muddy and my eyesight was failing. Nevertheless, I didn't want to address these symptoms because I was afraid...and in denial.

Weeks later, I would be hospitalized for five days and diagnosed with diabetes with very high A1C levels meaning I had a high percentage of glucose attached to my red blood cells....so high that my doctor put me in the hospital to prevent diabetic ketoacidosis. Then I had to learn to give myself Lantus--insulin shots on my belly and thighs every night. It was the scariest, most traumatic experience of my life in terms of my health. I felt like my body betrayed me.

I've now lost over 20 pounds and have been taken off insulin. All my readings are now well controlled. And I am 15 lbs away from my realistic weight goal of 135. But I had no idea that these changes I've made would be difficult and fraught with huge challenges.

I was paralyzed by the reactions of some of my friends who thought that I am now obsessed with my looks...that I've been submitting to some cosmetic procedures...that I'm being hoodwinked by doctors...that I have a poor body image...that I've turned into a shallow person....that I'm an idiot. There have been comments made behind my back.

I have to admit that losing weight has been liberating. It made me feel empowered that I can wear clothes that I couldn't wear before. And the excitement about clothes that I couldn't wear before is intoxicating. I seriously enjoyed shopping and seeing how good the clothes hang on me. Is this self-indulgent? Is this arrogant and self-centered behaviour? Honestly, I don't have time to analyze my joy because..well, it's a natural consequence of the hard work involved in getting healthy! Who analyzes excitement anyway?

What really is throwing me for a loop is all the old emotions that have risen to the surface. How I wince when I get 'looks' from people. The obvious reaction of some friends who somehow feel threatened or think I've changed. I mean, I hope I HAVE changed. For the better! Am I not allowed to do that?

Being fat was less complicated. No one felt threatened. And more people felt superior. I found this to be simple. I mean, I can be intimidating because I'm smart. And I have some talent. But to be fat gives others permission to feel superior.

Or being fat was also very comforting for me. I didn't have to deal. With my traumatic history of abuse and victimization, being fat meant that no one can have carnal thoughts about me...like when I was young. But now losing all that weight is confusing especially when I receive compliments. It's scary to me. So I tell myself that realistically, I am no longer nubile---far from it---at 55 years old. I am now a grandma. But feelings still rise to the surface and I feel panic rising despite logic and reality.

It's all too complicated. All I wanted was to lower my A1C so I don't have to take insulin and get my blood pressure in control. And now I feel like sabotaging everything. FAT WAS SO MUCH EASIER. But I want to live. And live well. God help me.

Complaining Frenzy

2011-04-14T21:47:00.000-07:00

I think I am having a bad day. My incision hurts, my skin feels so tight, the area around the middle of my incision is just plan numb it feels weird and I still have some swelling--hardness under the skin. It feels like I'm wearing a very tight pair of pants and I need to take them off so I can breathe and be comfortable. So I take off my pants and....nothing. I realize it's my skin. Ugh.

I am so annoyed. And I'm annoyed that my expensive Anthropologie skirts and jeans don't fit. Ok, I know I should be happy that I've lost all that weight and instead of wearing a size 12, I can wear an 8. I KNOW that. I am happy dang it. But I'm also not. I can't wear pants coz I'm shaped like a cone cylinder and everything falls. And I feel fat for some reason. Fatter. FATTER in fact. And I don't know what looks good on me. And I feel like part of me has died. I feel...not me. I feel terrible.

For the past week, I've been awake all night mostly with racing thoughts and new projects threatening to have me obsess over them. I've even had the strangest compulsion to play my guitar. I haven't played my guitar in DECADES. I tried to play it and....my fingers wouldn't do what they used to do. Spaz. I am aghast.

So I am writing this because I need to vent. And I don't know why. I feel like crying but I don't know why...and even if I wanted to, I can't anyway because my mind disconnects. Am I going crazy???

Secrets revealed!

2011-04-13T13:16:00.000-07:00

So I get a lot of compliments lately about looking younger and fresher and I've been asked again and again what my secret is. So I am going to list down what I've been doing for the past couple of years that have made a difference.

1. Sleep on your back.

I found that sleeping on my back prevents my face from being scrunched up if I sleep on either side. If sleeping on your back is not an option, use Frownie and Winkies.

2. Drink at least 64 ounces of water.

Drinking at least 8 glasses of water helps. I can tell when I didn't do that bec the day after my face is inflamed and swollen from water retention. It gets more and more obvious as I age so I try to drink 2 16oz bottles of water by noon and then I have the rest of the day to consume 2 or more easily.

3. Lose weight SLOWLY so skin retracts. I lost over 20 lbs over a 2 year span.

4. Now for a list of cosmetics I use to apply make-up, here's a list of products that I love:

MAC cosmetics: Fluidliner in Blacktrack. Iridescent Loose Powder in Golden Bronze (cheeks) and Silver Dusk (highlights). Cream Colour Base in "Pearl" (highlights), Eye Shadow in "Carbon" and various others.

Urban Decay Deluxe Eyeshadow in "Ransom" (Best violet colour)

Coverblend by Exuviance concealer in "Light". Doesn't crease. Lasts a long time.

Christian Dior "Universal Brow" brow pencil. Best product for eyebrows.

Bare Escentuals mineral foundation in "medium beige".

This is my favorite lipstick: Max Factor lipfinity No. 550. I think this has been discontinued.

I also use Model 21 lashes. You can buy them here. I never leave home without my lashes since I have so very little of my own. I use Duo eyelash glue. They are the best. There is a science into putting these on. I've been using false lashes since I was 17 so that's over 35 years of experimenting! I also like Ardell lashes which are available at most drugstores like Walgreens or at Ulta.

Blending all these products on your face requires some good quality brushes. I get mine here. I also have some from Sephora. But the best place to get cosmetic brushes for proper application is here. Remember-- you must use the proper tools to get the maximum effects of your make-up.

I cannot stress enough how important skin care is and also the care and maintenance of TEETH. Yellow and malocclusion of teeth really ages you. So take the time for good dental care.

That's about all I can think of right now.

Why I Keep On Trying

2011-04-05T06:35:00.000-07:00

So I finished digitizing nearly 2,000 slides...some of them ancient, from 1952. Most are faded and in varying degrees of degradation. I don't even know why I volunteered to take on this monstrous task. Perhaps there is a little part of me that craves some measure of appreciation though intellectually, I know that that will not happen because one thing that has been constant in over 20 years of dealing with Kurt's family is that if there is something I can do or excel at, there will be some way someone will turn things around so it becomes somehow a bad thing if not totally and deliberately ignored, sabotaged and dismissed. It's like the so-called crab mentality--when crabs are in an open container, no one needs to worry about any of them escaping because they grab at each other, pulling each other down until all are boiled alive. The sad part is that I never really craved any acceptance or appreciation in the beginning because I always thought I had them in spades. Yet somehow, as his little sisters grew, this crab-mentality phenomenon somehow was fostered and as others joined the family, they even added to the momentum.

In the beginning, I felt so blessed and fortunate that I was now part of a wonderful family with little sisters I could spoil and love to boot! But as time passed, I felt more and more diminished--realizing that there was a short-sighted, non-constructive mentality that began to prevail. It happened slowly but surely and I was left haplessly being swallowed in it. I became ironically, the favorite subject of gossip and scorn that unified the core members of the family until we reached the point where no one can figure out how to fix things. It just crept up so slowly but the grasp ever so tight.

I feel very sad about this. And so I keep on trying even when it has become acutely apparent to me that things have escalated to the point where the chasm is now so wide and seemingly irreparable rendering my efforts frustratingly small because my options have narrowed.

And yet, I've learned so much from these bitter experiences--lessons that I've tried to apply to my own family. Building a legacy of love and acceptance requires hard work and a whole lot of eating crow. When you think you can rest on your laurels and enjoy the fruits of your labours is really the time when you have to be at your most vigilant! As a mother, now with daughters-in-law and grandchildren, it's even more important to be self-aware. Family dynamics change all the time. That is the hope. It HAS to. So I find that I need to change also. In fact, it is IMPERATIVE that I change. And change is difficult. Falling in love with your daughters-in-law may happen in the beginning. But to maintain that love takes work. And I find that there is much for me to improve and I see it so clearly. Many times I fail so miserably. And yet I so appreciate that as I evaluate myself, there is always the promise of tomorrow as I pray to God that I can have another chance to redeem myself and get better. Even more importantly, I appreciate that the Spirit can and does call my attention to my follies and I can see them so clearly.... and as I receive personal revelation regarding how to improve, I find that I am always taken aback because what I am supposed to do to fix my mistake is ALWAYS the opposite of who I thought I was. In other words, why would I have to be given instructions to act differently if I were already acting accordingly, right? Thus, the required improvement is always, always a challenge because it is counter-intuitive-- it requires CHANGE. It requires a DIFFERENT you. So I am grateful for every day that I can change because many times, I am so sloooow. So I have to keep on praying that my family will be patient with me and forgive me.

I also find that when we resist these calls to change, our minds become dull and resistant. We become defensive because we don't want to change! And our family suffers. Discord ensues and in our ego-centric, defensive ways, we concentrate more on our own hurt and pain rather than becoming productive and increasing forethought or the ability to 'see far-off'. We begin to become short-sighted and resistant to change even if we know it's imperative to change. After all, the battle begins in your head because action has to come from an idea. And that is where the failure often happens--the inability to take action because we resist what is being impressed upon us. And as we get better at resisting, we advance to total rejection of that impression from the Spirit until we become addicted to bitterness. And drama.

So. Why do I keep on trying? Because I have to. Because I can see in my mind's eye the kind of family I want to have. Family is a dynamic, reverberating, intriguing and wonderful unit. It is where we can become better people. It is where we can receive more light and knowledge. It HAS to because it is the basic unit in God's kingdom. Our eternal lives depend on it. Generations depend on it. We are linked back and front and even sideways. I look forward to every new day when I can be better at it. And I hope I will have many, many days. I surely need them.

Antidotes: Just another poison?

2011-02-16T15:39:00.000-08:00

Alice Faux: Yes, she is a quarter Asian and my 3rd grandchild.

I was at a Filipino restaurant getting some take-out lunch for Kurt when a nice, old man (probably close to my age...) smiled at me and for some reason, made a comment about the quantity of the food on his plate and how bad it was for his diabetes. I responded that perhaps he can eat just a little rice instead of the heap that Asians are wont to consume. He smiled again and said in his mellow Filipino accent that it was alright to binge because he "takes insulin". I nodded and said "that's great!".

That's great?? I suddenly realized the scope of his statement. Oh go ahead. Take that poison with gusto...then ingest the antidote later. Does that make sense? I chuckled to myself and realized that I would have not caught that because that is exactly how I live my life---taking the poison because there's an antidote.

On another note, Alice, our third grandchild, was given a name and a blessing last Sunday. It was a grand day! Some of Catherine's family came---her dad, brother and sisters. They are such a wonderful family and I enjoyed their company a lot---especially on Sunday afternoon when I wasn't tired and sleepy and more alive than Saturday night. I made just a simple meal of sloppy Joe's on whole wheat buns, my famous potato/beet salad, my pasta salad, chips and dip....some ice cream and red velvet cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory thanks to Stan Green! Yummy! Below is a photo of the event:

Hannah showing off her ninja skills. She and Tascha flew down from BYU.

Tascha and her winning smile!

I learned a lot during this weekend. I had been reading in D&C 93 about truth and light and the condescension of Christ. Many things were revealed to me about my relationship to the Saviour. So my heart was very tender.

Towards the last verses of this section, there is a warning to parents on the importance of teaching their children truth. I take that charge very, very seriously even now when my children are grown. It is so very important that I live my life in such a way that inspires, elevates and enriches. The way to do that is to always love them. You would think that loving your children is easy because...well, they are flesh of your flesh. Feeling that you love them is easy but acting upon those feelings is another challenge. Feeling a whole lot of love doesn't necessarily expunge bad habits or bad behaviour. But love is a verb so how we love, behave and exemplify love is a choice that we make. And sometimes those choices can be difficult. But one thing that's reliable is the fact that when we act responsibly, the quality of our lives and relationships improve beyond our expectations. But love and work have to exist on the same breath.

Extending love is necessary to have joy in one's posterity and that includes loving their spouses. In my case that is an easy thing to do because my sons married amazing women who are easy to love. But then again....I can feel that love but I need to also act upon it. I need to follow the Spirit and be sensitive to their needs and feelings. It is not an easy thing to integrate into a new family. It takes work....and that work continues every single day...just like a marriage. If there is any fissure at all in the relationships it is my responsibility to use my mantle as "mother" to take the steps necessary to gather them close to me, love them, reassure them and accept them---all the time making sure that they KNOW it. Sometimes those steps are difficult and seemingly beyond my capability. But it is amazing how all I have to do is desire it, want it and then attempt to take that very first step...and then God does the rest. It is as if the windows of heaven just open and I become that person who can do it even when I didn't think I could. There is great power there. What I cannot understand is how any mother can allow dysfunction to grow especially when she is already cognizant of the cause. Sometimes we latch on to excuses, blaming this and that and finding fault when the real solution is to change ourselves. And sometimes we let fear or the lack of faith take over and we concentrate on our own hurt and then build a wall around us ---a sort of hardening of our hearts like the uncircumcised heart mentioned in the scriptures. What's worse is when we feel tenderness but harden our hearts anyway because we get too caught up with our own pain not realizing that the release from that pain or hurt is to give in to that Spirit that tugs at your heart with tenderness. In time, we become too calloused to take any steps and then suddenly we realize that we've missed out on so much joy.

I learned this from experience and I don't ever want to have so much pride that I become unwilling or scared to do what is right and to bridge the gap. I can see me being that way and that scares me. I just have to be vigilant like the scriptures beckon us to be in those passages in section 93.

We also had the great occasion to visit my mother, my sister and my aunts in SoCal. Amazing! I just LOVE my aunts. They are so so amazing. And my mother still looks fabulous at 79! My Aunt Edith is 81 and moves and looks decades younger. So does my Aunt Nieva who is still gorgeous, fun and relatable at 75. You can just feel their intelligence in the room and I had such a great time with them. I love it that they don't talk bad about other family members or other people like my experience with my husband's family. So it's always positive and enriching to be with them and I went home happy and excited to plan another time when we can see them as soon as possible.

Mama, Aunti Edith, Auntie Nieva, and me.

I once mentioned that I usually take a xanax whenever we embarked on a visit to my husband's family. And that incident at the restaurant gave me pause about that fact. I guess that there are things that just are and so we need an antidote...just like my diabetes. It will always lurk in my body and I will always have to take some medication to calm the sugar that sticks to my red blood cells and in turn creates a toxic environment in my body. Diabetes destroys vital organs and wreaks havoc in our system. So I am happy that there is an antidote. And I am also grateful that I know how to put diabetes in a place where it can't cause much damage. Sometimes, that's all you can do.

Capping the Year 2010: We Are family!!

2011-01-25T09:24:00.000-08:00

We had so much fun making this video! Thanks to Jordan who organized it and enthused everyone to join in. I've been wanting to do this for YEARS and he finally got it initiated. Because blogspot limits the size of the video file, the movie quality is much compromised. But I am sending the DVDs to friends and family.

I love that our family is close and enjoy each other's company. My sons married wonderful choice women who make life easy and joyful for me---as their mom-in-law. I so enjoy them and feel like they are true family. Personally, I've been so blessed. That's indubitable and my sons are amazing men who treat their wives with tenderness and thought.

My wonderful daughters are also simply amazing. They are who I want to be when I grow up. The young men who will marry them better have a good idea that they are the catch of the century. They are elegant thinkers and do much good work. They are kind, loving and tender. And as if being highly intelligent and kind weren't enough, they are both gorgeous creatures.

So--enjoy this little piece. I had the best time editing the many videos we took. I thought it would be a feat to synch them but it was easy as pie. Maybe it's because I was just having the time of my time!

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

Adventures in Macaronnage

2011-01-12T13:38:00.000-08:00

Of course I have to make like I'm some kind of snot. I'm thinking in French!

J'ai toujours vu que pour réussir dans le monde, il fallait avoir l'air fou et être sage.

I've been enthralled since I had Parisian macarons at the historic Oscar's at the Waldorf Hotel. I've searched for recipes even when I didn't know what they were even called. I happened to find these delectable confections again while walking around mid-town Manhattan, San Francisco and yeah---even Ala Moana Mall in Honolulu! The unfortunate part is that I didn't even make the connection that these lovely cookies were French and so I missed out on macaron splurges whilst traipsing around Paris! So this holiday season, I decided that I must try and perfect making these lovely concoctions.

I quickly discovered that there are a host of things that could go wrong in achieving macaron perfection. Humidity is but one. But most of all, the actual macaronnage---the art of mixing the egg whites with the almond flour and sugar until that perfect juncture--that point when the planets and moons align---that perfect juxtaposition of enough whipped air, egg white consistency and magical balance of all things good is reached. One more fold of the spatula and the macarons fail. One less whip and you end up with a sorry mess in the oven. Or try making the batter on a humid, rainy day...you get moosh. Just a dozen things can go wrong. But I am undaunted. Below is a photo of what they should look like:

So, I decided that on my maiden voyage into this unknown territory, I should start with gusto and make chocolate macarons with hazelnut filling.

I started out with 3 egg whites, adding 5 tbs of super fine granulated sugar.

I just whipped the darn thing until it forms a beak....like a bird's beak or bec d'oiseau in French.

Meanwhile, prior to even messing with the egg whites, I've already processed some skinless, blanched almonds on my Cuisinart to a fine meal and then did it again with confectioner's sugar and Dutched-processed chocolate to blend all dry ingredients together.

Then, with a rubber spatula, I began the task of macaronnage--blending the egg whites with the dry ingredients until it reached that peak. Or what I thought was the right moment. Below is the point where I am about to blend dry ingredients with the egg white batter.

It's a good idea to prepare your bag and tip beforehand and place them in a tall glass or pitcher making sure that you clip the end so the batter does not leak out of the tip.

Then you are ready to pipe the batter onto prepared cookie sheets. I had already lined them with parchment paper and even made 1 inch circles so I can pipe them neatly. Remember to turn the paper upside down so you don't pipe the batter onto the pencil marks. Note that my piping skills were BAD considering I used to decorate cakes! The thing is, I did not expect the batter to be so runny....that took me by surprise. So my circles were not even....or perfectly round.

I let these puppies 'dry' for about 30 minutes before I popped them in 350 degree oven, crossed my fingers and hoped I would have my beginner's luck. Hahahaha!! Not to be!

To my horror, 6 minutes into baking, my macarons grew enormous feet!! OK. Macarons are supposed to have the famous 'feet' or 'pied' that makes them...well, macarons. I had skirts. Wah wah wah!!

Here they are after 15 minutes of baking. Absolute disaster! But I was undeterred. I sighed, kept my head up and proceeded to fill them with hazelnut spread (Nutella). THEY WERE DELICIOUS!! And the consistency was perfect albeit the appearance disastrous. Bet you wish you could taste this: It was heavenly!

Not to be foiled by my virginal attempt, I proceeded to clean up all my equipment to start another batch. Crazy?? Nah....determined. So this time, I was not going to fail. So I went back to the web to search for troubleshooting information, pondered a bit, reviewed what I had done and determined to cure them.

Next: My second attempt: Raspberry lemon macarons.

I had a hunch that the problem was with my spankin' brand new Jennair convection ovens. Happily, the new Jennair ovens took less space so I had a cabinet guy put in a new drawer under the pair. Awesome

I had to make conversions because convection ovens are happily more efficient than regular ovens. I adjusted the temperature to 318 degrees F for good measure and because 318 just sounded better than 320 or 315. (Even if the awesome computer in the oven can make the proper conversions from convection to regular ovens...)

Oh and while I'm mentioning ovens I might as well also mention that my next project will be to get an induction cooktop that Wolf or Thermador make. Doing so might wake the gourmet cook in me. After all, I did take many cooking classes in college!

So back to the macarons. I decided to go girl power and use my food colour gels and go for neon pink macarons. Here they are all ready to 'dry'.

This time, I made the following adjustments: Longer drying time. I let them sit for at least an hour. Lower oven temperature. Less macaronnage time. Added 3 minutes to bake time. And I did not forget to tap the sheets on the granite countertop to avoid air bubbles. After 6 minutes in the oven, here's what I saw:

Macarons in pink splendour with PERFECT FEET!! Ahhh la la. Tres magnifique! C'est bon! I quickly danced the Snoopy dance. Perfection feels so good. Here they are in all their glory! And they popped out of the parchment paper with nary a problem.

And the finished product---VOILA! Raspberry macarons with lemon curd filling. This has quickly become everybody's favorite flavour.

Next: Getting more confident.

I am getting almost a bit cocky now that I've made a few more batches and they've all turned out ok. By OK, I mean that they have good pied (feet) and excellent consistency...meaning not too crunchy but chewy with a soft middle. Delectable. What I am still working on: shiny tops and better handling of the piping bag so my macarons are all the SAME SIZE. I may need a different size tip. I'll have to experiment on that.

Above are my pandannus flavoured macarons rising with feet beautifully. I filled these with white chocolate ganache. And here they are below all paired and waiting to be filled.

So far, I've made chocolate macarons with hazelnut filling, pink raspberry ones with lemon curd filling, lavander coloured coconut macarons which turned light brown in the oven (I will have to lower baking temperature for purple to retain their colours...) filled with dulce de leche (YUM), green pandannus (very fragrant leaves made into herbal tea in East Asia..) with white chocolate ganache and finally, I tried a different food colour (powdered) and did another batch of violet macarons flavoured with orange essence and filled with citrus (orange) white chocolate ganache. I've ordered some passion fruit and mango essense/oil flavourings and I'm venturing into making exotic flavours. I am only going to get better and soon I will have mastered the making of Parisian macarons. (I only hope that crazy person from Idaho who likes to 'put one over me' does not try to make these just for that reason. It's just....so incredibly sophomoric. But I'm sure she wouldn't even know the meaning of that word. But I am flattered that she makes me THE ONE to set her sights on bettering. That makes me superior. HAHAHA!!)

Padannus flavoured macarons filled with white chocolate ganache

Orange flavoured macarons with orange-white chocolate ganache.

This might solve Kurt's wallet problem

2011-01-05T10:29:00.000-08:00

Cracks Me Up Everytime!

2010-12-29T22:38:00.000-08:00

Closing Escrow

2010-12-04T05:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, December 3 was a wonderful exciting day for Leland and Catherine. We signed documents and closed escrow on their first house. They are SO excited. Kurt signed for them as their attorney in fact since they were both still at BYU finishing up with law school finals.Leland will be working for the Faux Law Group. YAY! The best part is that Lucy, Jack and Alice will live just 10 minutes away from their Papi and Mimi and we can see them anytime. We are excited! Their house is a modest three bedroom home but located on a quiet cul-de-sac with tall trees and close to everything good. Above is a snap of us at the escrow office signing the last documents. It took us an hour and a half to sign the large stack of docs.

In other news, Christmas is around the corner and so I took four days to decorate our revolving tree now laden with ornaments of all shapes and kinds. The young man who cleans the office put up our Christmas lights yesterday while we were at the escrow office and when we arrived home, we were greeted by MANY MANY lights strung all around the house, trees, shrubs and lawn. Holy cow! We now have the most ridiculously, Christmas lit house in the neighbourhood. Geeezz.... I am almost embarrassed. But oh well.

I am not done decorating and it will take me another couple of days to finish up. But I am getting seriously stressed out bec there are not enough days until Christmas arrives.

So dash I must now.

Thanksgiving 2010

2010-12-01T22:10:00.000-08:00

I thought I would post some pictures from Thanksgiving Day. Hannah and Tascha were fantastic in the kitchen and made it so easy. Hannah made the turkey a la Martha Stewart with Ginger and Riesling wine. She also made the best pumpkin pies from scratch. YUMMY. She also helped make flan. Tascha made the dressing from corn bread with dried cranberries. It was hands down the best stuffing we all had EVER had.

Jordan and Rose were great company and helped us polish off the rest of the meal. My mother and step-father also came all the way from San Diego. We missed Leland and Catherine and most especially the little wee ones but we will see them very soon as they prepare to close escrow on their new home. We are SO excited for them.

Below are some photos.


Ginger and Riesling Roast Turkey--and the people who made it possible...

Rose and Jordan enjoying the meal.

Natascha checks out her new Droid phone.

Hannah relaxes after two days of cooking!

Dishing and Gossip

2010-12-01T14:49:00.000-08:00

I went to get my hair done the week before Thanksgiving. No, the above picture is not the result of that event. I actually took this picture 2 days before when my hair was all greasy and eeky. So I wore a wig. That is me in my wig. And I do look like I have dimples... wait, no, those are creases...old age creeping in. Bah Humbug! But I do want to dish on the gossip that ensued at the hairdresser's salon. Because I can.

Anyway, today I am feeling rather silly. My hair colourist shares her lovely space with another hairdresser who specializes in hair weaving. She is probably the most important hair weaver in Las Vegas. Her clients range from mommies to strippers. But she does a lot of celebrities too and gets called upon especially during photo shoots. On the wall are pictures of glossy Las Vegas magazines with her work on display on celebrities' heads---Christina Ricci, Gwynneth Paltrow, Lindsay Lohan... I asked who the nicest celebrity was. Her response: Girl the question you should ask is who is the nastiest! So, I get to dish.

Nastiest celebrity: Jennifer Lopez. Everything is arranged via one of her personal assistants. She was given very specific instructions before she was allowed to touch J-Lo's hair. Most important rule: You are not allowed to address Ms. Lopez. Rule #2: You are not allowed to look at Ms. Lopez. Rule #3: If you must comment or ask a question, you must address the assistant who will be in her company and the assistant will ask Ms. Lopez for a response who will only address the response to the assistant who will then communicate the response to hairweaver.

Next nasty celebrity: Demi Moore. Her 'husband' Ashton Kutcher is the smelliest person she has ever encountered. Hahaha!! I thought that was funny. She also said that Arnold Schwartzenegger and his wife Maria Shriver and their three children are the nicest people. Oh and about Paris Hilton-- she called to arrange for hair extensions. She knew the product/colour numbers and other details that was needed to arrange the session. When said hairdresser began to discuss her costs, Paris said "Oh, I was just thinking that you would just do it and I'll tell my friends that you did it." So she wanted the hairdresser to foot the bill for the extensions and do the job for free. Of course, Paris did not get her way and was told to find another sucker who will do the deed for free.

That's about all I can remember. Or care to.

So while in my husband's family, it's normal for some family members to gossip about other members of the family, I can kinda understand the thrill in dishing and finding dirt in other people. It can be exhilarating to make another person look bad. It's addictive behaviour and like all addictions, it's DESTRUCTIVE especially within a family because it's personal. And malicious. In our own family, it is forbidden to complain or talk about another family member behind their back. If there is a problem, we encourage affected parties to deal with the issues by themselves...without involving others...and to do it immediately or as it happens so festering does not initiate.

Anyway, I thought all this was interesting in a most superficial way. And since I'm feeling shallow today, I decided to record my experience at the hair salon. I guess dishing about celebrities is just idle sport with no redeeming qualities other than being silly.

I just need a spa day now. Ciao!

Male Freak-out Syndrome

2010-11-04T13:30:00.000-07:00

I married my best friend. And I am convinced it is the only way to go because we have a wonderful family and home life. And it is wonderful to spend days and eternity with your best friend. It was an easy decision for me because I knew marrying my best friend came with a long list of advantages. But for men, there are more steps involved.

Here now, young men, are the steps that my husband took to complete the task of marrying the girl of his dreams-- (I am assuming that you already have a girl who is your best friend.)

1. Spend a lot of time together because it's just fun.
2. Hold hands, cuddle, kiss.
3. Spend a lot of time together.
4. Freak out because you realize you're not ready for a relationship and it's going too fast.
5. Ask why things can't just remain the same and propose that you still hang out without actually 'dating'.
6. Tell your friends that you are not really dating but just hanging out.
7. Decide that you will pull back and find other friends.
8. Realize that you are really missing her.
9. Spend more time together because it's just fun.
10. Freak out again. This time, lie and tell her that you can't get too serious because there's a girl in your hometown you want to check out first.
11. Punch yourself in the head because you don't know why you did #10.
12. See if she'll be willing to spend more time with you but not really date.
14. Spend more time together because it's just fun.
15. Freak out again because it's going too fast and now she really wants a commitment. Lie and tell her you need to find a job first and save enough money to get married.
16. Ask if you can just hang out but not date.
17. Spend more time together because it's just fun.
18. Freak out again because she is talking about marriage.
19. Find a get away car...i.e., tell her that you want to check out other colleges or go on a study abroad program.
20. If you're really dumb, you'd stop here and lose her. Then someone else gets to marry the girl of your dreams and your best friend.
21. If you skipped #20, then you beg her to take you back.
22. You take stock and leap that leap of faith because now you know you can't stand the thought of losing her.
23. Propose marriage and find a ring.
24. Freak out again and pretend that you forgot your parent's phone number and tell her you need time to break the news to your parents.
25. She dials the number for you and you break the news.
26. You finally have to set a wedding date.
27. Spend more time together because it's fun.
28. You freak out the night before your wedding and that freak-out moment manifests itself by your forgetting the ring half-way to the temple.
29. You finally get married and you are the happiest man in the world.
30. Spend more time together because it's just fun.

And for the rest of your life every day becomes a decision to love her more. You learn to communicate your fears now and freak-out times become few and far in between. You've married your best friend and you couldn't be happier.

Freak out events are really just those times when fear takes the place of faith. Every relationship has to progress and progress requires some measure of irritant or 'catalyst' to move forward. Otherwise, the relationship becomes stale. Those freak-out events are really doors that open in front of you and you don't know what's inside but you know you have to go in and find out. And that's scary. It will take faith to take that leap.

Mathematical problems always have givens. Take stock of those givens--those things you already know because it will be those givens that will give you the courage to overcome fear.

Freak-out events are essential to the growth of your relationship because it provides opportunities to exercise the skills of crucial communicating. This is the skill you will need throughout your life together...when forces within and outside bring some trepidation and thus require problem-solving skills-- skills that need a best friend's hand.

Now back to my homework.

Submitting Gracefully

2010-11-04T00:15:00.000-07:00

On my fifth night, my doctor came to discharge me from the hospital. Prior to my hospital stay, I went to the ER about severe flank pains. They told me my blood sugar level was in the 400s, my blood pressure was 232/128 and then the doctor ordered the nurse to administer Dilaudid intravenously. Immediately, I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and I could not breathe. I could not see straight. Instantly, I felt terrible. I could hear the two nurses discussing how I may have been given too much. I began to throw up. I tried to tell them I could not breathe. They gave me a shot of insulin. Shortly thereafter, they told me I could leave. I began to feel worse and worse and by the third day, I was back to the ER. I waited 5 1/2 hours in horrible pain, vertigo and nausea. I called my doctor who called another doctor who then arranged for me to be transferred to another hospital since there were no beds where I was. Paramedics came, put in an IV and drove me to that hospital where I was now sitting up in bed listening to my doctor's discharge instructions.

All I could hear was "insulin shots". I was stunned. Half an hour later, a nurse comes in to teach me how to give myself 20 units of Lantus, a basal insulin. I had no time to be terrified or compose myself. I just had to learn it in 10 minutes. Thus began my new life as a diabetic.

Within 10 days, my doctor took me off my insulin. I now take 500mg of metformin twice a day. My numbers are good. She even had to adjust my blood pressure medications to a lower dose. I've began to change my eating habits.

I have to admit that when the doctor gave me the news, a part of me felt terror, anger and guilt all at the same time. And I willingly succumbed to those feelings. I could hear voices in my head. This particular voice told me that these feelings are normal and that I should give in to them. So I did. I cried on the way home.

But here's something I also felt that I didn't tell anyone until weeks later: I also felt an inexplicable joy that didn't seem to be congruent to what was happening to me. Words of scripture passed through my head--words that I've taught my seminary students to memorize just last year. "...for the natural man is an enemy to God...until...(he) putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the Atonement of Christ the Lord and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him even as a child doth submit to his father..." I felt the love of my Heavenly Father so deeply. I knew that this 'challenge' was a manifestation of his love for me. For weeks I pondered these thoughts as I learned to manage my disorder.

We all know that diabetes is a chronic disorder of the physical body and we all know that it is a type of auto-immune disease. We also know that what happens inside the body when diabetes is present is 'abnormal'. I started thinking---everybody assumes that normal is the absence of diabetes. What if diabetes is a 'normal'? What if it is actually a state of normalcy that allows one to experience things that others can't? I mean, what if those experiences are so unique that it allows one to see the world in a way that is more beautiful, more meaningful and more profound? What if this 'anomaly' has secret advantages that no one has ever considered before? And am I smart enough to use these filters so I can 'see' and submit to a paradigm shift?

I look at food in a different way now. Sure I have a habit of blessing my food before I eat it. But now I look at food and I really ask God to convert it into chemicals that will not harm my body-- to turn it into salve and nutrients that will enhance my well-being.

Diabetes is saving my life. It is an opportunity to refine my habits and gives me clear directions on how to manage my vital signs. What I do now is really what everybody should be doing...except I get to have a 'manual' with clear and manageable cause and effects. Others are not so lucky. The freedoms they enjoy can also enable their wanton and carefree stance and magnify their arrogance about life itself.

I once told my daughter's special young man who came home sick and laden with a serious physical disorder that he was blessed by God to have this disease. At that time he told me that he couldn't see how it could be an advantage. I told him that as time unfolds he will be able to see and do things that others can't if he just shifts paradigms and opens his new eyes. I told him to be vigilant so he can see how God unfolds his plans for him because his perceived weakness is going to be his strength. He is doing exactly that.

Little did I know that months later, I would experience for myself what those words really meant.

And I am so grateful.

Finally 'growed' up and about to leave the coup.

2010-09-09T17:32:00.000-07:00

Hours before my first airplane ride. Two weeks after I turned 19. Leaving for the US.

I Am Not Sure Anymore

2010-08-22T22:35:00.000-07:00

There was a specific reason that I sought to teach seminary three years ago. This time, it feels like I've reached my expiry date---which is strange because I still want to teach seminary. Could it be possible that it really is time to quit even if I don't want to? I am in a quandary. It just feels different.

BYU-Hawaii actually took the amazing task of searching me out to encourage me to finish my degree. Whilst on holiday in Hawaii, a friend contacted me and told me that someone from BYU-H had asked about me to see if I would be willing to talk about finishing my degree. COINCIDENTALLY, I just happened to be right on campus when that chit-chat took place. Coincidence? No. It's divine synchronicity! After meeting with the appropriate people, I ended up with a class schedule and a plan. But I will have to speed it up if I want to finish quickly. So...do I have the time and energy to take these classes AND teach seminary? My plan is to try and do it all. But it's scary because I don't want to risk being a crappy teacher or a crappy student. And I don't know what I am capable of doing. It's been decades since I was a student and so many things have changed. I mean, the periodic table of the elements doesn't even look the same as the last time I cracked a chemistry book! And to make matters worse, I can't even remember names of people! I mean, I can give you a list of miscellaneous facts about the person but I wouldn't be able to tell you the name! Is that a confidence booster....or loser? Is that scary or what?

Anyway, I am so overwhelmed.

Three Generations of Fauxes in Hawaii

2010-08-18T21:31:00.000-07:00

Faux, Party of Ten


Lucy, Tascha, Catherine, Leland, Jack, Hannah, Kurt, Christie, Jordan & Rose FAUX

Our 8 day adventure in the island of Oahu has just ended and I woke up this morning a bit disoriented and perplexed that I am not smelling the ocean breeze outside the lanai that overlooks a beautiful panorama of mountains and ocean. I am back in the desert. Drat! But tonight, the temperature is tolerable (about 92°F) and the girls are in the pool with David Scow who just returned from the Philippines San Pablo LDS mission. His Tagalog is awesome and we are enjoying his visit. Needless to say Tascha and Hannah are absolutely GORGEOUS with their golden tanned glowy skin.

Leland and his family are going back to BYU tomorrow. And Hannah will take the early flight out as well. I am trying not to think about it and remain stoic. But my heart is definitely being squashed into a pulp.

I am so grateful that we can provide these opportunities for our children to enjoy the beauty of Hawaii and to see how marvelous the Polynesian culture is. We attended the Halealoa Ward near Ko'Olina where we stayed. Sacrament meeting was just phenomenal. We were greeted by wonderful people and we felt so welcome and wanted. The speakers were so spiritual and their messages so well-organized in thought and presentation. I was touched by one young man who apparently was leaving the ward and his expressions of appreciation and gratitude for his leaders and the support he feels from the ward. He was very tender. We were so happy we attended all the meetings. Sunday School was taught by a retired teacher and she was awesome. Her lesson was straight from the scriptures and she commanded attention. There was good participation from the class. Relief Society was even better. Five little girls came to sing and Lucy was one of them. It was so jarring to see Lucy--so very haole, among the beautiful little mixed Polynesian girls. With them, you can see how Lucy blends perfectly with their features even if she has light skin and green eyes. It was quite a revelation to me. She can pass for a little island girl quite easily.

The lesson given by the RS teacher was fabulous and the love I felt in the room was palpable. The only thought that came to me was--I need to move here as soon as possible. Last time we were here, we attended the Makakilo Ward and the feeling was the same.

I love that there is such a wonderful feeling of aloha in the islands. They don't require much to love. They just do it so freely. The thing that scares me is that every time I go back, I am hit with the realization that I'm so 'haole-fied' or westernized because I feel it. I feel the difference. I don't know how to explain it but I recognize this aloha spirit and how it was a part of me and now, over 20 years later, I can see that it has left me. I just want it back.

This is why every time I return to Nevada, I feel so sad. I mean, I can carry that feeling with me but it's so hard when the people that surround me do not have it. There are too many limitations and requirements to be loved. And there's too many fears and risks to consider---ie, "you can't love that person bec he's going to leave anyway..." or "I can't love my son's girlfriend because what if they don't make it?"....or "I can't love them too much because I'm leaving in a few weeks..... " Or...."I can't love him like a son because I already have a son....or "...like a mother because I already have a mother".... as if one mother is the limit. Or you can only treat someone as family if they are blood. Or whatevah. In the islands, there is no limit to the number of women who can love you as your mother would. Nor is there a limit to the number of children a mother can love. There are 'aunties' and 'uncles' and 'mamas' and 'papas' and 'cousins'. No limit. In the islands, they just love and it's most likely because you never know how much time you have. That's the point. Not the excuse. I love that my friends' children call me 'auntie'.

I am also beset by an overwhelming feeling of gratitude that the Lord has provided us with the means to have all this possible. I am so so paranoid about being ungrateful. I hope I will always remember that everything we have and enjoy is a gift.

In time, the house will be empty again and everything will be in place. My kitchen will sparkle and my floors will not be sticky. And I will be sitting on my couch longing for the laughter and squealings of my little keikis. And I will be longing for conversation with my super intelligent children.

But for now, I am going to the family room to watch a Korean movie with them. Perhaps even have a laugh or two.

JUMPING FOR JOY BECAUSE WE ARE FAMILY!

2010-08-12T13:08:00.000-07:00

AT THE POOLS AT KO'OLINA BEACH VILLAS

Hannah, Leland and Tascha jump!

AT THE BEACH IN KO'OLINA

LAIE POINT

(Where I believed submarine races took place...)

Rose, Jordan, Kurt, Natascha, Hannah

Hannah shows 'em how.

KAHUKU MEDICAL CENTER
(Where Jordan was born. Attending doctor: Dr. Benjamin Branch, North Shore hippy)

Jordan's Running Man Mid-Air Pose

BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY-HAWAII CAMPUS

Jordan, Rose, Tascha, Kurt & Hannah

AT THE POLYNESIAN CULTURAL CENTER IN LAIE, HAWAII

In front of the Marae in Aotearoa (New Zealand) village.

After the Luau...and on stage!

AT THE WAIKIKI INTERNATIONAL MARKET PLACE

Natascha and Hannah demonstrate achieving success in shopping.

AT THE DOLE PINEAPPLE CENTER

Best Quote of the Day:

"Mom, do they dig the pineapple from the earth?"

LUCY

Natascha, Lucy and Hannah

AT THE PALI LOOK-OUT

(With Winds Blowing 20 mph)

JOY!!! Interpreted by Hannah.

Graceful jump by Natascha

Whoa Leland!! Cool split! See Jack run.

Kurt's Cool First Jump

Jumping Melee!

Natascha

Natascha and Hannah

Rose, Jordan and Leland

Hannah


Leland.....and Jack


Kurt

PEARL HARBOUR

FABULOUS SUNSET: FABULOUS DAY IN PARADISE

Liberating My Heart From Those Who I Once Loved

2010-07-28T16:43:00.000-07:00

This is how we feel about our latest encounter this past weekend in Gossip City.

She Still Sows Those Bitter Seeds

While celebrating his 50th birthday in Manhattan, he received a phone call from his sister who lives in Idaho. He thought it was another birthday greeting since she rarely ever calls. But it was not. It was a phonecall to complain about his wife. Another complaint. Another slight. Another offense. In normal functioning families, the offending party privately speaks to the offender to find some common ground so they can function properly within the context of 'family'. Not in this case. The fact is, his sister had already called several members of the family to rally them against his wife, lodging her complaint upon any family who would listen thereby sowing the seeds of discontent and suspicion against an unsuspecting victim. Whether guilty of the offense or not, his wife was once again relegated to the usual limbo of guilt without justice or even the benefit of doubt. The courtroom in this case is gossip-- bad feelings sowed behind someone's back.

Through at least two decades, this is the standard procedure of life as a member of this family. For years, he and his wife would walk into family gatherings feeling the change of atmosphere as temperatures dropped to coldness and knowing glances. It is that uncanny, unsettling feeling that one gets when you know the lot of them had been speaking ill about you. And as the years rolled by, the discomfort just rose to the level of severe anxiety without ever knowing the impetus of their collective harsh judgments clothed in normal behaviour. But the feeling is strong and palpable without a doubt. The trips to see his family often involved anxiety, panic attacks and hurling. Xanax became the pharmacological agent of choice because getting drunk was not an option.

Shortly after that phone call in Manhattan, his wife received a malicious and threatening email from some anonymous source. But the IP address could easily be traced to someone who lives in the Burley-Rupert area and the email extension sadly the same as those family members who lived in Idaho.

Months later, he would attend a wedding in his family. As he approached the table where his parents and those family members were seated, they would turn their heads away. This snub would happen throughout the happy event and that sister treated them as though they were the most evil people who belonged to her family. Others witnessed this behaviour and made comments about it. But we simply shrugged our shoulders. It was just another 'normal' event in his family. It was enough for his wife to decide AGAIN to never return. (Her heart softens with time yet through the decades of hurt and betrayal... but that is about to end.)

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

Prelude To The Public Shaming

We arrived at the house bearing trays of sandwiches and various cakes. We also sent them a $200 container of edible arrangements. In essence, we just about catered the event. But that was lost to them. As we walked into the family room, we were greeted by the family members who were there. But his sister stayed motionless in the corner of the kitchen. I did not even see her until I was well into the room. After years of being snubbed by her and years of her malicious fault-finding expeditions coupled with endless chatter behind our backs mostly about our lacks, our deeds twisted and sprinkled with her version of imagined slights and evil motivations, we simply thought she was again upset about another imagined slight. We decided separately to simply ignore her. After all, she was the only one who did not welcome us. It was the usual behaviour she had employed for decades.

We all gathered in the room. I sat reserved but somehow relaxed. My xanax was effective. I felt calm. I was enjoying some conversation with my husband's family....at least those who were friendly. There was no sight of my husband's mother or father who had been away for 18 months and whose return we were celebrating. They were outside speaking in hushed voices with the sister and another family member who liked to participate in the gossip-fest. My son saw them outside and thought "there's going to be trouble'. He was right. That sister was already playing the game....talking about our slights...except now, she was no longer the instigator. She would be the victim. And we, the offending party not worthy of being tried and convicted without the benefit of doubt or the equal opportunity of being heard.

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

RULES OF FAIR PLAY

CARDINAL RULES OF FAMILY HARMONY

I had discussed this in a previous posting months ago. One of the rules I adhere to in my little band of family is this: Never berate, discipline, criticize or give unsolicited advise to your adult children in front of their spouses, peers or other family members.

We had just settled into a nice conversation with other family members when my husband's mother suddenly appeared and asked us to listen up. Then she proceeded to tell us that that sister was upset and crying because....and she pointed a finger at my husband, "you did not even talk to her when you arrived." Or something to that effect. There were other exchanges but mostly her anger, as she shook, was focused on my poor husband. Half of our children were there, some of his siblings and other in-laws, his nieces and nephews. At that very moment, time seemed to slow down. I was horrified. The decades, DECADES when that sister talked badly about us over and over, the years that we drove home in tears or being utterly dumbfounded, the snubs, the phone calls of her complaints and offenses....all of these came to my mind. And there we were shamed in front of our children--judged and obviously condemned to shame. Belittled. The benefit of the doubt never examined. Other statements were made but all I could feel was relief and liberation because right then, we knew where we stood. And right then his own mother had laid down the verdict in front of all to see. We had slighted that someone who had maligned us for years. She was no longer our bitter judge. She was now playing the victim.

Her daughter is now, after decades of fault-finding and back-stabbing, reaping the bitter harvest from the seeds that she sowed. Why did she not come to our rescue when we were being criticized? If the same rules apply to her other children, then why didn't she point the finger at her during the many times when we arrived and she turned her head away from us? Could it be because we did not approach her to lodge a complaint about his sister? Could it be that we chose to handle her childish tantrums in our own way---that is, by finally just ignoring her behaviour because reasoning does not work?

The calm came at that moment when her finger pointed at my wonderful husband. All the responsibilities, respect, deference and finally, familial ties began to vaporize and slowly melt away. I was free. If I felt obligated to be there at any time, that obligation just left me. And I knew that I no longer had to ever be there. There would never be anxiety. There would never be concern. They no longer have the privilege of my company in any fashion. My generosity and love for them can no longer support such blatant disrespect for fair play.

And we tried SO hard through the years. We cannot see how things can change. I know my husband will keep on trying to be a good and respectful son. But I don't think he knows what that entails because our efforts through the decades have been fruitless. He is not angry but deeply hurt. And there is no anger but simply just quiet resignation. No, make that a sad, tragic feeling of resignation.

There is a time when the Spirit leaves. When his mother stood shaking in anger and blatantly pointed her finger at my husband in front of his children and his wife, the spirit of contention was introduced. And our reaction was simply shock. I was paralyzed with shock.

Harmony is a strange state in these circumstances. Especially when prior to the the public shaming, his sister was already fanning the flames of anger, manipulating those who cannot see that in participating in her venom they are actually depriving her of her own growth. It would have been easy to stop her and to encourage her to speak to whom ever she is complaining about. It would have been easy to stop her and tell her to take care of it and not get involved. And those who had her ear are complicit in introducing contention. And in choosing to fan the flames of contention, they are choosing to turn their backs on the promptings and quiet whispers of the Spirit.

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

THE LOST OPPORTUNITY

My husband's youngest sister and her family no longer attend the LDS church. But that fact does not change the reality that they are wonderful, kind people. They have made certain decisions that frankly are not congruent with what I think I would choose. But then again, their choices do not change the fact that they are kind, generous and happy people who are raising a very vibrant, happy little son.

But that is neither here nor there.

As my son and daughter-in-law sat in the church meeting, it became more and more apparent to them that the main reason for the meeting was not to remember Christ but to celebrate a homecoming. Little or frankly, nothing was said about Him or of His atonement. The subject matter given was 'how to strengthen families' but that subject matter was entirely lost. Family was not even mentioned except for a well-deserved mention of one son's support and help while they were gone.

A great and marvelous opportunity was lost in those moments. How can a parent not be overjoyed at the sight of their daughter who once again sits in church? My heart was filled with love for this wonderful sister of my husband and I was so proud of her! I would have loved to have borne testimony of the Saviour's love for her and her family. I would have loved to bear testimony of the Saviour's plan of happiness, how he loves us not because of what we've done or what we haven't done but because of who He is--the Son of God. I would have loved to have testified of his atoning sacrifice and the sublime gift of repentance, his tender grace and mercies. I would have loved to bear testimony of the blessings of temple worship -- that it is the only place where one can truly receive light and knowledge in a way that defies any other. I would have loved to express my love and appreciation for her and her family. How I could have contained my joy would have been impossible because my heart would be overflowing. I would have loved to express how much I love my family and my conviction that families are eternal. I would have loved to bear testimony of the veracity of the Book of Mormon--that it is another testament of Christ; that it can change the way you see the world. It would have been a wonderful time to express gratitude for the holy priesthood that seals us to each other forever. It would have been a powerful, spiritual and unifying experience; one that we all so sorely need to hear and feel.

But it wasn't.

And it was clear that many loved them and admired them. It was clear that many were impressed with what they had accomplished on their mission. I am sure they've done marvelous things. Perhaps this is the joy that they need right now.

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

My WONDERFUL HUSBAND

For verily, verily I say unto you, he that hath the spirit of contention is not of me, but is of the devil, who is the father of contention, and he stirreth up the hearts of men to contend with anger, one with another.

Behold, this is not my doctrine, to stir up the hearts of men with anger, one against another; but this is my doctrine, that such things should be done away.

3 Nephi 11:29-30

My husband was crying softly that night when his mother singled him out in front of his children and his wife and other family members. I pretended that I did not see him. But my heart was so heavy with compassion for him. He is such a good man. He told me that he feels like an orphan. He told me that his parents' evening would have been perfect if we had not been there. He tries so hard to be thoughtful, to be generous, to be forgiving, to be above the fray.

We drove over six hours to be with his family. We planned to bring enough food so that his mother won't have to worry about running out of food. We sent her a huge 'edible arrangement'. We did not go there with the intention of ignoring anybody.

But he will keep plugging along. Because that is the man he is. They may shame him, ignore him, find fault in him, take offense when offense was not intended, punish him, minimize his accomplishments. But he will still plug along and try to be a good son. He does not seek attention or admiration from others. He is generous and thoughtful and kind. His children love him. They have said that he has never raised his voice or said anything bad about others. He does not complain. He spends time with me and our children. He loves to be with us. Most of all, he listens to us. He laughs often and is never mean.

My husband is a good man. And what matters is that I love him.

**********

I HAVE COME TO THE RED SEA AND THE LORD PARTED IT

The Lord has been kind to us and I see His hand manifested in all things. It has taken me decades of confusion and quandary to figure out what I am faced with. There were years of guilt. There were years of indignation. And then there were times of sorrow and astonishment. And sometimes there were times of sheer anxiety and panic. I could not get across. And now after decades of waiting, the sea has parted and I feel like I can now safely and at His bidding, cross to the other side where there is peace and where I can move forward without those head winds that push me backwards.

I am sure there will be unkind words and more complaints about us. There will be nothing we will do that is pleasing. I hope that those who speak in whispers about our shortcomings will do so aware that these actions do not build harmony but bitterness, division and not unity, darkness and not light.

To those who finally want harmony and love to intervene, I pray that you will have the courage to stop engaging in conversations of fault-finding, blame assignments and meanness. I hope that those who are tired of childish manipulations and games will rise to the occasion and undo the forum that promotes the ridiculous displays of childish tantrums and outbursts.

To that sister whose bitterness and misery infects others around you, may you find peace that only comes from an appreciation of the redemptive plan of the Saviour Jesus Christ. May you realize that Christ descended below all things and thus it behooves us to embrace adversity as a marvelous refining fire necessary for our perfection. I wish that you will not use your baggage as an excuse to behave in a manner that you need to destroy those who once loved you so you feel empowered. I hope you will realize that doing so enslaves you more in bitterness and unhappiness. I hope you will forgive those who truly hurt you so much that you have to resort to tantrums and childish outbursts to seek attention or feel important. I am so sorry that you will not enjoy my participation in your misery and that you will not feel that love that I once felt for you. I hope you will realize that I do not hate you. I only feel sadness for you and a sense of tragedy for what was lost between us. There is still love but where it was freely and generously given, it now has to be earned for I must move onward and forward. That love cannot enslave me to the depths of misery and bitterness that you have.

And finally, I hope that in a coming time, the desire to be of one mind and one heart will rise-- if not in my generation, in the new generation-- those who will learn by witnessing these sad events and now know what not to do or to be.

Happy that it's over!

Amor Sin Fronteras

2010-07-23T08:50:00.000-07:00

You've Got To Be Carefully Taught

My childhood was filled with strife and challenges that I survived seemingly without much serious damage. Or perhaps a combination of time and a wonderful husband has blunted much of its pain and repercussions. Nevertheless, one thing I learned early on is that the emotions one feels as a child at any age are real and as deep as any time in one's life. Therefore these emotions need validation. That is a crucial need.

A child can be afraid of the dark and as adults, we sometimes tend to belittle them by pooh-pooh-ing this fear. That's when they learn that the world around them can be scary. Worse, they can also begin to feel doubt about the people who are supposed to care for and protect them.

I think that feelings can be schooled as we mature but the sum total of our childhood experiences can affect us -- especially when the emotions are strong. But as we age, the source of these emotions can be forgotten leaving us with strong feelings but without experiences to attach them to. Some of us have anger with no reason. Some of us feel bitterness. Or feel insignificant. Or scared. Or hating some people who remind us of someone we don't remember.

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

You've got to be taught to hate and fear

You've got to be taught from year to year

It's got to be drummed in your dear little ear

You've got to be carefully taught

You've got to be taught to be afraid

Of people whose eyes are oddly made

And people whose skin is a different shade

You've got to be carefully taught

You've got to be taught before it's too late

Before you are 6 or 7 or 8

To hate all the people your relatives hate

You've got to be carefully taught

(From the musical, "South Pacific")

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

I was chatting with someone from my daughter's boyfriend's family who told me that it is hard for them to see how she is important to him because of their "collective uncertainty about the future of their relationship..." I was suddenly jarred by the realization of how different we are in the way we see things.

One of my sons had a girlfriend in high school. He was but 17 or so at the time but I was so aware that feelings are real no matter how old you are. These feelings must be validated and appreciated. His girlfriend was a wonderful person and I went for it full throttle. I just loved her. And though I knew the odds of them making it was slim, I loved her as though she were mine just in case they make it. And though they didn't and I was a little disappointed when they broke up, the love I felt for her was stronger than the momentary disappointment. She married one of my son's best friends and now together with my son's wife, are all close friends. Their children play together and there is a wonderful rapport between all of them. And I still love her. There's just so much love to go around and it feels so good to have all these wonderful people that I love! Everything just multiplied!

My daughter and her boyfriend have been dating since high school...and long after. They have gone through so many challenges and unexpected twists and turns. Unlike my son and his HS sweetheart, I think they have a very good chance of making it. But it doesn't matter if the odds are slim. I went for it full throttle. I love him a lot. And always will just like I still love Heidi.

It is sometimes frustrating that we have such cultural limitations that prevent us from acknowledging feelings that are real. The 'what if' and the 'but' or the 'you're not supposed to feel that' are merely born out of fear -- mostly, fear of being hurt or disappointed. But those feelings go hand in hand with loving someone. We just cannot have those fears limit us from experiencing and seeing things as they wondrously are.

Christ loved us even when He knew full well that we would disappoint him...or even turn away from him. And His love is so perfect that it transcends all hurt and all pain. That is how He, being perfect, could descend below all things. It is that perfect love that carried him through---that He is able to bear all things.

I used to think that hate is the opposite of love. Or apathy. But really, it is fear.

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

While attending a function, I suddenly saw my reflection on the glass window. It jarred me because instantly, I saw how different I looked from all the other people in the room that I was seeing. I was the only Asian.

For the most part, in the 22 years that I've lived here in Henderson, Nevada, I've only associated with non-Asian people. It is not by choice. It just worked out that way.

It's amazing to me that in a big way, I can 'forget' that I'm different. Not that I am trying to be 'white' though of course, I wanted to culturally assimilate. It's just common sense to do that. And I was just trying to survive my days! But in my dealings, it is rare that I'm reminded that I am racially different. The only time I become painfully aware of my ethnicity is when I am treated poorly---mostly by service people. But then again, there are plenty of ignoramuses that roam the malls and spas.

I love being different. And I also love being the same as others. My children are a mix of Filipino, Chinese, Spanish, English and Swedish. Mixed ancestry provides so much advantage---better health, longer life, more vim and vigor and exotic looks! I do not fear being different. But then again, others have a fear of those who are different from them....as do I. But we must learn to bridge those differences because they are born out of fear...

...and being 'carefully taught'.

THOUGHTS OF A WELL-ACCESSORIZED INTERLOPER

2010-07-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

THOUGHTS OF AN ANTHROPOLOGIED INTERLOPER

I am rifling through my special 'travel' drawer to extract a bottle of Xanax. Yep. It's time to go to Pleasant Grove, Utah. Every time I cross into that territory, the heaviness in my chest causes me to hyperventilate and my head begins to feel light. Then the sensation of nausea sets in and I feel like I am going to have a heart attack. Panic. And a little xanax placed under my tongue for a few seconds before I follow it up with water to swallow it is the only way to mitigate this sad reaction.

How ever did I get from a joyful pilgrim to an anxiety-ridden interloper?

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

I really appreciate my mother who never demands much. She is overjoyed whenever we go for a visit and frankly, those visits are so few and far in between. There is never any criticism about that either. She just takes what is given without reproach for the lacks. Everything is simple. She just wants to love without demands or requirements or expectations. I appreciate that she doesn't talk badly about anyone in our family or my husband's family. Those things just don't even occur to her.

I really appreciate my only sister. She accepts me for what I am even when I aggravate her. And even when we have our moments...sometimes even ugly ones, I can always rely on the fact that in time, she will be her usual jovial, generous self with me and everything bad will just be another insignificant event that somehow doesn't really affect how we love each other. I appreciate how she doesn't harbour any ill-feelings or stew in any venom. I appreciate how she treats all my children as real people even when they were little. She never talks down to them or treats them like appendages who should do as she bids or as babysitting units. She never orders them around. She shows genuine interest in their opinions and thoughts even when they were young. My children feel like she is their equal and so they grew up thinking that she cared for them, valued their opinions and truly loved them. In other words, being an 'aunt' was never a position of superiority of any degree or kind. She was, more importantly, a caring friend who happened to be an aunt.

I appreciate my aunts quirky as they may be because I know that they care about me and because 'family' really means something. It's blood where we come from. Not religion.

Since I did not grow up in the LDS culture, we don't have any pre-conceived notions of what everyone should be. We are just accepted and treated kindly. Or when there is conflict, we pull all the stops and have a good go at it. Then....in time, we revert back to base. There is no back-biting because small as we are, there is just no spare time for that type of empty and classless activity that requires bitterness, misery, envy and a serious lack of intelligence.

I just LOVE it when we arrive at my family's homes and there is a riotous welcome. Everybody comes to the door and expressions of excitement fly all over the place. Then the kitchen becomes the place to be! There is loudness and laughter. And then everybody just chills. There is a relaxed atmosphere. It feels like home. My family is small but it feels so big when we are together.

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

Right now, I feel like I am being summoned to fill a part in a paint by numbers portrait. Please pass the xanax.

2010-07-11T01:30:00.000-07:00

ON CHOOSING THE BETTER PART

When we desire to be righteous, there will be times in our lives when we are faced with decisions that are neither wrong nor right -- forcing us to try and choose the better part even when the margin of differences seem so small and insignificant. Ironically, the margin of differences SEEM so small precisely because of our lack of experience and the very act of choosing one or the other is the only way to figure out these differences. By then it may become apparent that the losses may be too great to risk. This is when the tender mercies of God become crucial. These are the very moments when we can experience the manifestations of his hand and in so doing, engender our refinement.

Once decisions have been made, and the wheels have begun to turn, we may find ourselves caught in the mechanism of our own doing. We cannot turn back. But our righteous desires, immature they may be, may also buy our way out. Though we cannot see how that can happen because our circumstances may be dire, there is a voice inside us that tells us that He is in control and that we will be alright-- nothing bad can happen because God is in the details. All we have to do is remit each day with patience, courage and the discipline to be serene. Once we can calm ourselves and feel that security, humility hones our senses to listen to his commands. And once we hear his instructions, refinement can only occur when we execute his will. It will require much courage to do so and the execution may be difficult. But the instructions will be clear and there will be clarity of thought and purpose such that though the load may be heavy, this sharpness and clarity will amazingly make the load light. Now we can begin our way back to choose that better part in the first place-- held in reserve for us by the Lord's tender mercies.

This is the trial of our faith--to finally accept his will. This is that glorious opportunity to show how strong our faith is and how stout our hearts are. Remember that the genesis of this comes from choosing between righteous choices---a situation that arises more often as we strive to be righteous and obedient followers of Christ.

TOO MANY THINGS GOING ON

2010-06-10T18:54:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of things going on right now and I can't really post anything about those events because I don't know how they are going to unfold.

But.

I decided to take a break and do something for myself. Last night, I took an Ambien so I can finally sleep for 8 hours. That was my hope. I slept 6 hours. I can't complain. But I woke up with the worst hang over. I then remembered why I flushed a full bottle of Ambien down the toilet. I guess tonight I'll stick to Ibuprofen...and little sleep.

Oh. And I went and got my hair done. Above is the finished product. A bit too radical, I'd say.

Also, I picked up the plates we painted at "Colour Me Mine" and here I am with the finished product. I wasn't too happy because I should have painted 3 more coats on the whites. Ugh.

Above is the plate that Hannah created. It looks like Hannah's creation. I really like it. It's sweet and subtle. Just like her. And very intricate with lots of fine details. Just like her.

Above is Natascha's plate. I tease her that it's a giant octopus with a yellow eye but it turned out so nice! Very clever. Just like her. I do have to post the bottom of her plate because it is very funny. Just like her.

Hmmmm....since I was already at The District, I did go to Anthropologie just to have a look-see. I ended up with 2 cute shirts. Oh well.

God's Gentle Hands

2010-05-29T19:22:00.000-07:00

Manifestations of the Hand of God Guiding
All Things

Last Friday was the last day of seminary and Lori Day did not show up to spend the last day of the school year with her class who all came to celebrate and express their appreciation to her. She was in the hospital getting prepped for surgery. They found an aneurysm in her brain.

The day before, she had what she described as "the worst headache" of her life. Henceforth, there were many coincidences that made one indubitably aware that God's hand was guiding all things.

A brain aneurysm, and in her case, a leak from an aneurysm is a very serious matter. 40% do die from a ruptured aneurysm. Of the other 60% who survive, there are complications that require a long, sometimes complicated recovery and in the end, if death does not ensue, there will be deficits that may impact one's quality of life.

Lori defies all odds. The night after her surgery, she woke up, coherent, communicating and annoyed that she will have to stay in the hospital for a while. Today, which is the day after her surgery, we went to see her. She was sitting up and about to have dinner. She had staples on her head and her right thigh was elevated from the angiogram but there she was. It looked like she just had some kind of day surgery. Amazing.

There were many details and coincidences that led to her spectacular outcome---all manifestations of God's love and caring.

Last year in April, Hannah's boyfriend was seriously ill. And throughout the months of his recovery, coincidences and details so spectacular abound even to this very day. It was again, a magnificent show of God's hand.

It seems to me that ever since I began teaching seminary, I've been privy to these remarkable events in the lives of righteous individuals. But I am sure that every event that fills my cup such that it runneth over is merely a preview of more spectacular events that testify to me of God's abiding love.

Tonight, a husband will finally sleep well knowing that when he awakes in the morning, his wife will be waiting for his visit while still annoyed that she has to stay in the hospital a little longer. And tonight, Hannah will most likely lovingly hold the hand of the young man who loves her yet another time. And tonight, I will hold my sweet companion next to me grateful that I can hear him breathing. I will smell his sweet scent and fall asleep.

Secrets

2010-05-27T15:49:00.000-07:00

Things I Keep To Myself

There was a specific reason why I asked to be considered as seminary teacher. But I will reserve that reason to myself until the time to reveal this reason ever comes. But I can write about the obvious one: because my last child left for college and I anticipated that I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I did not have a reason to wake up, fix myself up and be with young people who can substitute for my need to have some semblance of mothering. But I cannot reveal the first reason because it is still looking for the other pieces of the puzzle.

After weeks of anxiety over decisions and changes that are about to happen, I suddenly woke up one morning feeling joyful. The anxiety was gone. I had prayed ever so fervently for a glimpse of what is to come and I believe my prayer was answered. But I cannot reveal what I saw and felt. It simply refuses to be divulged. I think it is because it is far too important and still needs to find the other pieces of the puzzle. When all things snap together, my heart will quietly burst.

I've seen so many things that are spectacularly amazing for the past year or so. But some of these things I cannot divulge because articulation by words just seems so inadequate. And I believe that most of what I see is to be enjoyed only by me. This is a first because I usually cannot keep a secret. I start aching to tell someone. So it is very singular that I have all these things that I keep to myself.

GREAT EVENT IN WASHINGTON DC!!

2010-05-19T10:22:00.000-07:00

Jordan Faux, Esq.

Jordan is my first-born son. When he was born, Kurt was finishing up his undergraduate degree in English at Brigham Young University- Hawaii Campus. We were barely married 9 months when he was born. Wait a minute. Stop counting. Jordan was born 5 weeks early. His brother, Leland was born 10 months later. Stop counting again. He was born 7 weeks early.

Anyway.

Jordan was a wonderful baby. He was rumbly-tumbly and spoke early. He said "Cah bye-bye" as he pointed to my papa's car when he was barely 10 months old. Now he can say all sorts of things.

Jordan graduated with a degree in Biology from BYU in Provo, Utah. He loves insects. I don't think he got any encouragement from me regarding that matter. In fact, I KNOW I did not encourage any love for insects under any circumstances. But I do know that we all love to talk, analyze and ponder out loud many, many diverse subjects---from the Vietnam War to vegetables we'd like to experiment cooking with, from the mathematical meaning of the word "outcome" to the merits of knowing who the seven dwarfs are or even from our thoughts regarding the nature of Deity to how our obsession with pop culture can lead to the end of civilization.

Jordan was born exactly 250 years after the birth of George Washington. Of course that means that they share the same integrity of character. Is that a coincidence? Nope. Also it is not a coincidence that on May 16, Jordan graduated from George Washington University with a Juris Doctorate in Law. We are so proud of him. But more than his academic accomplishments, we are so proud of the kind of man he is. He is kind, well-mannered (except when he is with us and then resorts to joining in with our boorishness...), sensitive to others and puts his family on the top of his list. He is a wonderful son and brother...and now, husband.

Enjoy some of our pictures taken last weekend in Washington DC as we celebrated Jordan's fabulous weekend.

Jordan and da parents. Doesn't he look so officially dashing?

This is a photo of the cover of the official commencement event program/booklet.

This is the vantage point from where we were sitting. Awesome. We could watch Jordan and also see what the speakers do behind their backs. The speaker for this afternoon's event was Mary Schapiro, Obama's pick to head the Securities and Exchange Commission and fellow George Washington Law School alumni. She is on the cover of Time Magazine. The morning event speaker was Michelle Obama. We decided to skip that and take the sacrament instead. We were happy we did because the Sunday meeting in Jordan's ward was outstanding.

Rose and Jordan standing in front of George Washington. There was a line just to take a pose with him and there was a lady who wanted to take command of that line. Needless to say, I pretended she wasn't there.

I took a photo of Jordan's diploma which I had on my lap. I thought that was clever of me since I took the picture blindly.

I would say that it was raining pleasantly on this day when we went to the Washington DC LDS Temple. It was SPECTACULAR. I cannot even begin to describe how the beautiful white Italian marble glistened against the humid air and how the gold leafed spires seemed to reflected the cleanest, purest light. It was a Monday morning so the temple was closed and no one was around so we got to take a lot of pictures. I think this is the most beautiful temple I've ever seen and I wouldn't mind it if my daughters decide to get married here. (!)

Of course, Kurt had to insist on visiting Arlington Cemetery. I have to agree that it was beautiful there. The head stones all faced east and were arranged perfectly in rows. Here I am with Jordan and Rose who were so game about driving around with us. They were such good and fun company.

In front of President John F. Kennedy's and Jacqueline Kennedy-Onassis' graves. Behind me is the proverbial eternal flame. Their still-born son, Patrick Bouvier Kennedy and another baby who they lost in a miscarriage are buried by their sides.

Kurt and Christie in the rain. Awesome.

Faux & Faux Law

Two of our sons follow in their father's footsteps. And I have to say, all three are of the same ilk in disposition and core values. What a privilege to have sons like them! I thought the world would be so much more awesome if there were more people as kind, generous and unselfish as these three men.

Clicking on the photo above will allow one to see it in a larger format. In fact, click one more time and it gets even bigger. That's me and Kurt in front of George Washington's beautiful house overlooking the Potomac River in Mount Vernon, Virginia. In walking along the paths and also the interior of his house, one can feel a most reverent spirit. I have a feeling that Washington was one of the greatest men that ever walked the earth. I need to learn more about him.

It rained all day on our last day together. I was wearing my favorite pair of shoes. They were SO comfortable--soft leather, just the right heel height, perfect colour (avocado) and ever so cute. Well, after traipsing on puddles of water and mud, the interior dye began to run. So I had orange feet. I thought it was hilarious. They are all dried and good as new now. Thank goodness. I am referring to the shoes, not my feet. Though my feet are also now dry, clean and good as new.

Empty Nester Myths

2010-04-19T15:58:00.000-07:00

Empty Nester Myths

Before my last child left our home for college, I often would hear other mothers wail about their children and how they can't wait until such son or such daughter turns 18 and leaves their house so they can finally "do the things they often wished they could do but couldn't because they had children".

This will be the third year since my last child left and I am still trying to figure out what it is that I can 'finally do' now that all my children are gone. Not that I had any aspirations prior to being left alone by my eager college-bound children. That day came suddenly like a thief in the night. Or more like an anticipated hurricane of a magnitude never before anticipated. It has turned my life upside-down.

I asked another mother much older than me about being an empty-nester and she ruefully confided that most of what she feels is longing for the time to roll back so she can enjoy her children more, appreciate them more and undo some of the things she did because she was too uptight. Frankly, I have no such feelings and honestly feel that I did all I could do within the limitations of my experiences and circumstances. More so, I really did enjoy each of my children with a passion bordering on obsession.

When I was a young woman....long before I got married, my aspirations were ever so different. I wanted a career. I did not want children. Children scared the crap out of me....and they still do...unless they are mine or my grandchildren. I never baby-sat, never took care of an infant. My world was small and I dedicated myself to....me. I fancied myself as smart and intellectual so I had no desire to learn any domestic skills other than cooking gourmet food which I considered an art rather than a domestic necessity.

Music was once a huge passion of mine. Then I took painting classes and that became another lovely vocation that I wanted to pursue full-time---well, anything that had to do with art---photography, watercolour, oil painting, mixed media. I also had a notion that I had to write a book. And compile my musical arrangements of Primary songs. I also loved to teach. And travel.

These are the things I can finally pursue now that I am an....empty-nester. But my passion for these things have waned when I discovered to my dismay that my role as a 'mother' has now drastically changed. Suddenly nothing trumps being a mother---the kind of mother that I used to be when my children were young and...home.

It is a myth that being an empty-nester can give you more time to indulge in your passions. I am still having a difficult time adjusting.

Intellectually, I know that of course, when I've finally 'adjusted'...whatever the hell that means, I can pursue those interests that I used to have. I also know that now that I am alone with the man of my dreams---who still is the object of my affection---we can finally indulge in all those things we used to dream of doing together. Perhaps more travels, more time to indulge in the arts and as soon as we can set ourselves up, a mission for the church. I feel that there is not enough redemptive value attached to these. But I know that I should focus on these things. It is a battle between what I know and what I feel. Nobody warned me about this phenomenon.

Anyway, I put one foot in front of the other and go through the motions of every day life with nary a direction, purpose nor destination.

And for now, I feel lost. And suddenly old.

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

On a side note: I have not slept well in weeks and the effects are showing. I do try to nap after returning from seminary but can't. Every time I put my head down, I immediately wake-up or if I do get lucky and catch a few winks, I wake up more tired and disoriented.

Today, we had three guys from our ward finish installing two sets of French doors and some stucco work. It was very noisy. Just like when the kids used to bang around the house with their instruments. I immediately felt sleepy and for the first time in weeks, I slept for 45 minutes like a baby. It was restful. The noise lulled me to sleep and relaxation. That's odd. But that's what happened.

A Functioning Insomniac

2010-04-13T19:51:00.000-07:00

My Kindness Will Not Depart From Thee
Isaiah 54 and 3 Nephi 22

Am overwhelmed by the verses found in the following references:

3 Nephi 22: 7-8,10

For a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.

In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.
For the mountains shall depart and the hills be removed, but
my kindness shall not depart from thee...

compare with

Isaiah 54:7-8, 10

And then:

D&C 122:7-8

And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

The of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?

and lastly,

Doctrine & Covenants 121: 7-8,

My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;

And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.

Here is video that shows the perfect marriage of scripture and music:

2010-04-06T08:23:00.000-07:00

'tis My Pleasure To Speak:
Reviewing Our Four Broadway Events

With only 3 nights available, we managed to find excellent seats to an assortment of plays and musicals playing on Broadway or thereabouts.

A Behanding in Spokane

I have to admit that the big draw to this play was Christopher Walken. We have admired his work for so long and we just needed to see him in his element live. He did NOT disappoint.

The story is about a man called Carmichael looking for his severed hand. Hence, the title. He has been searching for over 25 years. Martin McDonaugh, who wrote the play, also wrote another play that we enjoyed years ago entitled, The Beauty Queen of Leenane. Spiced with profanity and seriously, but seriously politically incorrect epithets, I hardly even winced. Walken's dry delivery was pitch perfect and Sam Rockwell (Confessions of a Dangerous Mind--he played the role of Chuck Barrie...) was the perfect 'foil' for his character--he plays a hotel clerk with a very, very nonchalant death wish...and a strange interest in Carmichael's predicament. Zoe Kazan (who plays Meryl Streep's daughter in the movie "It's Complicated" and Anthony Mackie (Hurt Locker) play a couple who stupidly and unsuccessfully try to convince Carmichael that they have his hand in their possession--which is where the farce begins.

The play works in so many different layers. There is a very solid chemistry between the four actors and the audience begins to connect with each character almost immediately. Kazan plays 'a lady in distress', a wily manipulator, a liar, an ingenue with so much panache that one can sense a great deal of intelligence in her seeming helplessness. Each actor held his own but when Walken is not in the scene the 'electricity' dissipates. We certainly felt his quirky, inexplicable and charming eccentricity so just being in his presence gave us a sense of being in a unique and historical company.

I give this play 5 out of 5 snaps.

Lend Me A Tenor

We had first row seats to this play and so we got spit upon a lot especially by Tony Shalhoub who spits a lot! What a sublime pleasure! This zany comedic farce with the slamming doors had I thought, casting perfection. Making his Broadway debut, Justin Bartha, (National Treasure) whose character is the link pin to all the characters and all the action, was the beneficiary of generous actors whose performances enabled his character to bloom and shine without taking away from their own terrific performances. Shalhoub was wonderful. Period. Anthony LaPaglia, was engaging as the Italian tenor who arrives in town the evening of his first performance of Othello with a bad case of intestinal distress after indulging in greasy food and libations. He looked so ill that I thought maybe he may not be able to finish the play-- well, that's when it dawned on me that 'this is just pretend'. That's how good he was. Jan Maxwell who plays the tenor's wife was hilarious and gorgeous. I have to also mention that the set was fabulously built. We laughed throughout---and I mean, belly-laughed. It was pure therapy.

Mr & Mrs. Fitch

I really wanted to like this play because I adore John Lithgow. But I finally just gave in to the realization that the play itself was....well, annoying. I think LIthgow knew it. I could tell. He delivered his lines with the greatest of elan but the script itself fabulously falls flat. Yes, I do fault Douglas Carter Beane's utterly shrill and pretentious script. He is all over the place obviously trying far too hard to bombard his audience with name-dropping and references to the intelligentsia of literary greats. The script will, in one verbose sentence reference Waugh to Voltaire and then annoyingly worship Sylvia Plath, who in my opinion is so highly over-rated anyway. I mean, come on people---she wrote ONE book and then killed herself. But that's beside the point.

John Lithgow and British actress, Jennifer Ehle, play husband and wife gossip columnists who run out of gossip fare and proceed to invent a celebrity and blah blah blah. It's all too predictable. But that's not the problem. The problem is, Beane couldn't make up his mind about this play. It's not quite a comedy. And it's not quite a tragedy. Or a drama either. I was confused. The worst part is that I just couldn't feel anything but ambivalence or worse, not really care about any of the characters. I wish I could like them, but they are so annoyingly pretentious. I wish I could hate them but they weren't that despicable either. It's like some sort of horror date night with someone who's hot but won't go all the way. Why couldn't Beane just go commando and make the characters deliciously despicable that the audience could actually have a meaningful reaction? Or decide to make it a darker, edgier dramedy so the characters can have their comeuppance? So I just wanted the play to end and take poor Lithgow out of his misery. He is all that saves the play. I wish he just played the piano and sang the old standards...which he does so but only for a very short snip.

On a positive note, I found Ehle's wardrobe very chic and the set oh so very Manhattan. She is a beautiful woman. But it bothered me a bit that she tripped over her lines several times. Well, one can hardly be too hard on her---she is a Brit speaking American. I found myself wondering how in the world these characters could afford a nice flat with such rich details on a gossip columnist salary. But I digress. Well, that's all I did for most of the play. On another plus...John LIthgow-- in person-- live. And we sat on the 5th row dead center.

Promises, Promises

I was excited to see this musical because I am a Burt Baccharach-Hal David fan. Plus this musical is based on the movie "The Apartment" which starred one of my favorite actors of my childhood, Jack Lemmon. (And a young Shirley McLane) And also because I love Kristin Chenoweth.

But Kristin Chenoweth did not deliver the goods. Her performance was...to use a cliche, oh so very wooden. And it's oh so true. Sean Hayes did not disappoint. He has an almost Matthew Broderick'ish quality. But I'll tell you what was the stand-out performance of the night: Katie Finneran, who had a small scene but a gigantic, amazing performance. She brought light and sunshine to a whimpering production. I think she saves the night.

I would say that the star of the show is really the music. In the end, I enjoyed it and I was rooting for Sean Hayes whose performance was very likeable and in some instances, touching.

And that was Broadway for me last week.

Tony Goldwin and Katie Finneran

Goldwin (Ghost) was boring in his role. But Katie Finneran...wow! We were lucky enough to have seen her spectacular performance on "Noises Off" (we were with Tascha and Hannah). She won several awards for that play including the Tony.

Mothering When They Do Not Need Mothering...

2010-03-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

Mothering When They Do Not Need Mothering Is An Opportunity To See Your Handiwork

When children started to come to our little family composed of me and my best friend/college sweetheart/husband, my focus turned to accumulating as much information as I could about the art and science of raising children. Many of these books and manuals were very interesting. Some comical. Some very scientific. Some teeming with wise advise from experience. Some contained a lot of superfluous garbage. But I took on as much information as my mind could absorb and coupled with my own acute observations of children and the adults who 'supervise' and care for them, I started to form my own conclusions and the resulting executions based on these became my very own style and brand of mothering. I would often, in my head, run various hypothetical scenarios and then figured out intelligent and sensitive solutions to potential pickles and confusing circumstances.

When one by one my children became teenagers and young adults, I found myself in unfamiliar scenarios that never before I had considered or pondered. I had to relearn how to mother when my children wanted independence and just have their mother be in a distance far enough that they cannot feel my presence and influence...or nurturing but close enough to feel safe.

With married sons and daughters old enough to seriously consider marriage, I thought I'd list the top five for now:

1. When your sons get married, you must accept that your daughters-in-law should, must and definitely take over your spot as the most important, influential and beloved woman in your sons' lives. If you have very close relationships with your sons, be prepared for that relationship to change drastically... as in, you must take your place in the background where you no longer are privy to your sons' every thoughts, opinions and especially, attention. That their wives are the most important persons in their lives is a testament of your sons' intelligence, wisdom and sensitivity. Aha. It is a testament that I raised them well. Therefore, I must feel utter joy about this phenomenon. This does not have to happen after marriage. This happens when they begin to date someone seriously. Get out of the way! If you raised your sons well, they will choose wisely. And in all probability, they will even choose wives who have many of your qualities---qualities that they love in you...qualities they are used to....qualities that bring them safety and security...qualities that make them feel loved.

2. Never discipline, berate or give unsolicited advise to your adult children in front of their sweethearts, wives, husbands and peers. Lord help our children if they have gotten used to our roles as meddling mothers and apron-wearing despots! They run the risk of searching for companions and spouses who can offer them what they are used to---especially if they love their mothers. When our children become adults, our responsibility is to get to know them as they have evolved while we were gone. We must see them with fresh eyes and wrap our memories of them when they lived under our constant care in a beautiful box, tie a nice shiny ribbon around that box and stow it in that museum of wonderful memories deep inside our hearts and minds. Then we must very carefully observe them...admire them and find their strengths because there will be countless...no, innumerable nuances and qualities that will fill us with wonderment and awe that this fine human being who came out of our bodies can love another human being with such tenderness, get deeply hurt in ways we can surely relate to, improve their situations, reinvent themselves or come out of heartache triumphant with beauty you've never noticed before.

3. Never talk badly about an in-law. Never never never. Oh...did I say NEVER? And just as important as this, NEVER ever talk badly about ANY family member. Oh the bad fruit this can bear can be the most bitter of all fruits. Your frame of mind or your perspective, tried by experience or tested by eons of time or culture CAN be inapplicable, immaterial or not even germane to someone else's reality by virtue of their experience or disposition. So you just cannot impose your own standards or expectations on others....especially the members of your family. You MUST sincerely try to see things in their own light lovingly investigating and learning more about the people who inhabit your circle of families. Seek to understand. When I first joined my husband's family, I immediately discovered that their sport of choice was to talk about a certain in-law. That was toxic because it just became a habit to talk about each other. I hate it. And it still goes on. This cannot happen to my family. It just can't. Too much joy is at stake!

4. Be kind and always speak in loving tones. If you find that the way you talk to each other is negative and sarcastic or even self-deprecating, fix it IMMEDIATELY. It's always hard to admit mistakes but once you get started, it's easy to navigate through hurt feelings. The most important principle I learned is that it is possible to ask God to remove negative feelings and to replace them with love and tenderness. Recently, I had the experience of a very limited interaction with another woman who liked to talk about the members of her family. There is so much turmoil and strife among them. I think that the way they talk to each other is steeped in sarcasm, loudness and unkindness. Even if they want to speak more kindly, they can't because the manner of speaking to each other has been established through so many years that they don't know what and how to replace this behaviour and changing feels weird and unnatural to them. Sometimes it is easy to talk to our adult children in condescending tones. That cannot happen. I just returned from visiting my children who are all in college or law school and it lifted my spirits so high to listen to them talk to each other---how they support each other, love each other and respect one another. Condescend? How can you feel that when you are being taught by your children? Allow them this and you will be lifted so high that you will know what 'awe' feels like.

5. I see my children's 'imperfections' as qualities that make them who they are. I mean, come on---we all know that no one is perfect so we choose companions whose imperfections are perfect for us. If we keep on harping and noticing our children's imperfections, we won't have time to 'respect' these same imperfections that make them who they are. And we miss out so terribly on seeing them. The time to police them is over. So what if one of them is opinionated? If you listen to their opinions with openness, you might learn something and be elevated. So what if one of them is loud? Is it possible to rejoice in their exuberance? Or so what if they like to watch movies that you don't think are worth the time? When we allow these things to annoy us and become part of the materials that build wedges and walls between us and our children, we lose. We miss out on opportunities to love them unconditionally.

Well, time has run away from me. And though I still have a myriad of thoughts, I must be disciplined enough to stop.

Besides, there's flan waiting for me.

Glittering Generalizations

2010-03-17T07:42:00.000-07:00

"Marriage Is Hard" and Other Glittering Generalizations and Statements That Sound True But Can Be Dangerous Models of Thought

Here are my top twelve: (Okay---it's a baker's dozen now)

1. Marriage is hard or "Marriage is hard enough as it is."

2. I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it.

3. You have to serve a mission in order to be happy (and other stupid mission myths).

4. When you die, you get to be with Heavenly Father.

5. If you ignore it, it will fix itself.

6. If you ask for strength, God will give you trials instead so you can be strong.

7. "I asked God if it was right and I didn't get a response so it must be wrong" or "I asked God if it was wrong and I didn't get a response."

8. If the prophet said it, it's a commandment.
9. It's my choice and my consequence. And you don't have to bear any of it.
10. "When I was on my mission...." spoken 10 years or more after the fact or "those were the best two years of my life."
11. Quality time is what's more important.

12. There are only two choices: right or wrong.

13. God wants you to obey--not be happy.

I don't have time to elaborate since I am on my way to Salt Lake International Airport. But I will soon. In the meantime, discuss.

Oh. And I no longer own the pretty hair clip shown above. My daughters absconded with that and another Anthro necklace that I had with me---but happily done so.

2010-03-13T07:03:00.000-08:00

ALL ABOUT JACK

Celebrating Jack's Birthday. He is now 2 years old--a wonderful rumbly-tumbly little boy full of energy, confidence and JOY! He is always happy (except when he wants to go to sleep) and is like sunshine---so bright and warm. He is so amazingly sharp and smart. We just adore him!

2010-03-11T10:29:00.000-08:00

NOTES FROM PROVO, UTAH

Our visit to Provo, Utah was all too quick. We had a very good excuse to fly up: Leland's paper was selected as one of only 3 law school papers that would be presented in a Symposium held at BYU. Lee was ecstatic! And he didn't disappoint. His presentation was AMAZING. It's strange because as a mother, I always enjoy whatever my children did. But it's a great experience to actually realize how good they really are in real life. He was so confident, articulate and knowledgeable. His Powerpoint presentation was also incredible---not your usual bullet-driven bore. I learned a lot from just his allotted 15 minutes. During the Q&A period, he was at ease and answered questions interestingly. I was just so bowled over. He is going to be one fantastic attorney. Below is a photo of the door that led to the room where Leland presented his paper.

Of course, I couldn't resist making Nate and Hannah pose outside the door before we opened it and found Leland and Catherine. They were game and supportive to wake up early to listen to Leland who was scheduled to speak at 8am on a Saturday.

Later, we hung around with Jack and Lucy. Here he is with his Papi. Jack is the funniest 2 year old around! He has the most amazing blue eyes ever. And boy did he love to show off!

Below is beautiful Lucy Faux. She will be four in August which is mind-boggling for me. She is just so adorable and beautiful. Most of all, both of them are happy and contented little kids. This is a testament to Catherine's mothering skills.

Jack liked to play only with his Dad, his Papi and Nate. He didn't really pay much attention to us girls. Here is Nate trying to show Jack his cellphone.

That night, we watched BYU's Synthesis in concert. That's BYU's premiere jazz band. It was awesome because they had a special guest saxophonist: Don Mensa. He was unbelievable. I tried not to weep while he was playing his second piece. It was such an enjoyable night. Thanks to Nate and Hannah for purchasing our tickets and providing us with good company. We had a late dinner at IHOP after that 3 hour concert where Natascha finally got to join us. She was in Wendover watching Boyz 2 Men. We had so much fun! Below is a fun photo of Hannah and Nate. I will post the videos later.

2010-02-28T16:39:00.000-08:00

Warning: Unretouched/Un-Photoshopped photo
This is what I looked like this morning with no make-up. So what? I'm in a bad mood. And yeah, that's a huge zit on my chin.

Bad Morning

The phone rang before 9am this morning. It was rainy, dark and cold. I was still in my night clothes. It was the gate phone. I hesitated answering because I was not expecting anyone to show up at my house. But I picked up anyway. It was someone who wanted to 'leave something' at my door. He said he had spoken to me before about doing some work on my roof a few months ago. I told him I was not interested. Then he said "don't you remember me? I spoke to you outside your door and at church!" Well, I did remember that he knocked on my door months ago soliciting work and I was very nice probably because he caught me in a good mood. But I know I had never talked to him at church because we were in different wards. So I knew he was trying to use the fact that we were both 'mormons' to try and get me to open the gate. I got mad. So I told him I didn't need any work done at this time and that I can't open the gate for him. What---just because he's 'mormon' I should be obligated to open the gate?

Just minutes later, the door bell rang. I knew he had gotten into the gate somehow-- usually when perchance someone who has gate access drives through and he can just follow the car in.

I can see him through the glass panes on my door from the loft. He waited a while. I got the creeps. I called my husband. I could see him writing a note and pushing it through between the double doors. And then he walked back to his truck.

Thoughts came into my mind. I hate it when other "mormons' use our commonality to try and get me to do business with them willy-nilly. It's as if just because we belong to the same church and believe the same things give them an exaggerated sense of entitlement to my trust and generosity. What's up with that? I have been a victim of this many times over.

My backyard is proof positive of this dastardly phenomenon. We hired a "mormon" in our ward to pour concrete, add curbing and other big changes in our landscape. It was the worst job I've ever seen. And he got upset that I was not happy! Months later, after the concrete had already been poured and he had suddenly disappeared, we find out he had cracked the pipes to the pool's solar heating. Now we are faced with thousands of dollars worth of fixing up his shoddy work. This is just one example. Of course, I blame us for being so stupid. We could have sued him but we knew he had no money. And anyway, what goes around...blah blah blah.

But I am in a bad, foul mood.

Last week, I found out that an associate of mine was gossiping about me. And I caught her in it. Yeah, I confronted her. But she's good. And I was frankly very entertained by her emotional response. I was surprised at how easy it was for me to see what she was doing and how she can deflect from the main thesis of the confrontation. So I decided that I'm just going to find something good in her, let her off the hook and keep my distance. But it's still disconcerting. And I don't believe her claims of innocence because of details of the circumstances which I don't need to get into. Funny but I found it so easy to let it go because in the end, I found myself not caring at all. Though I find it easy to be cordial and even pleasant, I cannot be her friend. And though she thinks that this silly event has in her words, "brought us closer", that really surprised me because I don't feel the same way. I felt like I was in a totally different world but at the same time, I do 'see' her very clearly. So I didn't respond when she made that strange statement. I also surprised myself because I did not find it important to me to tell her that I don't feel the same way. It just....didn't matter to me. I really don't dislike her at all and in a very strange way, I cannot say that I 'like' her either though I really want to. Let's just say that I feel strangely disconnected. That's what it is. Disconnected. Trust is a huge issue for me, I guess.

Tomorrow, I am going to the spa again. I hope to feel better even if my methodology of feeling 'good' is superficial. After all, these events that I described are really just fried froth.

2010-02-28T09:34:00.000-08:00

Here's what I did ALL Saturday and the better part of this morning.
It's a video for our Relief Society meeting today.

MY SISTERS' HANDS

2010-02-13T09:18:00.001-08:00

Valentine's Weekend Happenings

Not writing anything profound today. I just thought I'd memorialize some of the fun events this weekend.

Last night, I took some jewelry tools and repaired/restyled some old jewelry. Granted they were not anything expensive but nonetheless, they are bold and graphic pieces. Here's the funny thing though. When I wear my bold, personality necklaces like these: (All pieces are from Anthropologie except the middle one on the 2nd column which is from Stella and Dot.)

This is what I hear others gush to me: " That is a pretty necklace. I wish I could wear something like that!" Or, "I wish I could pull off wearing that bold of a necklace!"

My first impulse is of course, to say thank-you. Then in a flash I'd realize...well...that I may have been unwittingly slammed. If they can't wear it, what does that say about me? Thoughts flood my head immediately and I catch myself formulating quick retorts next time I get like comments. But then, I stop myself because it's oh so sophomoric and completely unnecessary, unwarranted and incongruent.

Still, I like wearing bold pieces to compensate for the cute things I can't wear because I'm fat. Enough of this nonsense.

Today, Kurt and I finally bit the bullet and watched Avatar. Holy smoke! We watched it at the nearest IMAX in 3D. Kurt even got teary-eyed in the end. (Ha!) And I just loved everything in the movie. I kept on thinking about the genius behind the imagined alien world. And I thought myself to death pondering how in the world they transferred one's imaginings into film with such great detail. Boggled my mind and I found myself lost in thoughts like this....just tooling over the fine details of the imagination and technical aspects of the making of this movie. Geezzz. Spectacular technology.

We had a very late lunch/dinner at a restaurant called Brio, an Italian bistro at the Towne Square Center. Delish. Had the lamb chops....medium rare of course. The dessert was fab. A trio of brulees---vanilla, chocolate and caramel. LOVED the caramel. Chocolate next. The vanilla had an annoying consistency---not as smooth as it should be. The egg yolks probably were cooked too fast or too hot.

Kurt surprised me with this BEAUTIFUL necklace* from Anthropologie that I had been ogling but didn't have the nerve to buy because well....it was way above what I was willing to fork out. But here it is and I love it. Can't wait to try it on.

Throughout the day we also got picture messages on my phone from Hannah and Nate. Hannah is spending the weekend with Nate's family in their cabin. They looked so happy together and so in love...so I am posting some of these photos. They both had a very unbelievably challenging summer and have rose above these challenges with grace and trust in God's hand and have emerged loving each other even better. We are excited to see what happens next. :-)

Yes, can they be cuter???

Yesterday, we had a fun lunch with our friend Tema who flew in from Provo, Utah. It was great to see her and just talk over a nice salad at Claim Jumper.

The photo below of Hannah and big boy Jack has nothing to do with the weekend but I just spied it whilst 'bluetoothing' photos from my cell to my Mac and thought I'd post it because she looks so pretty with Lucy's plastic crown.

Next week, Lucy and Jack will be over. I can hardly breathe with excitement. And yes, they will bring their parents Leland and Catherine. It will be a spectacular week. Finally, the cherry on top will be the arrival of Natascha on Friday. Yahoooo!!!! We are going to spa and frolic! I can't wait to have her. She is so much fun and such a breath of fresh air and a bolt of sunshine.

The day is not over yet and I have to finally read and get my Relief Society lesson organized. I don't even know what the topic is. Geeshhh... I better crack the whip and get moving.

* I just found out that this necklace, designed by Pieter Erasmus, an artist based in England, is inspired by the art, culture and colours of Africa. It was made popular when Michelle Obama wore it. (Ugh!) It retails for around 275 Euros which translates to over two times what it retails in Anthropologie. (Insanity!) See www.st-eramus.com for more of his works and details. I do love his work and this piece had been on my wishlist since December!

2010-01-17T15:51:00.000-08:00

My Bizarre

Today I was sitting in my kitchen pondering about bread. Well actually, I was looking at a bag full of 'pan de sal' -- 3 bags of dinner rolls in that large grocery bag. That's 3 dozen rolls. Now I've been staring at that bag for nearly 3 weeks now. What's bizarre is that I know I will never open the bag and eat those rolls. So for days I've just let it sit there undisturbed. I could have taken them to someone who could have used them. I could have put them in the freezer to be used another day but then again, I know I would have let them sit in the freezer for months and not use them. How do I know that? Because there are a couple of loaves of bread in my freezer that I should just chuck in the garbage because they have been freezing for a long, long time. Months. So as soon as I see enough mold growing on them rolls, I'll heave a sigh and throw them out. Why do I do this? 'Tis bizarre.

There are also several bottles of water around my house and car in varying degrees of consumption. I have to admit that for some odd reason, I don't like to drink all the water in the bottle. But I don't want to throw a bottle with water still in it. So they sit on my table or car for days until I can get desperate enough to drink all the water so I can get rid of the bottles. Today I drank from about 4 nearly-empty-bottles-of-water so I can tidy up. Why do I do this? 'Tis bizarre.

Today, my cleaning lady is coming. So I spent half the day tidying up my bedroom and actually cleaning my kitchen so she doesn't think I'm a piggy when she comes in the afternoon. I pay her good money to do what I just did. Why do I do this? 'Tis bizarre.

For the past year, I've painstakingly watched my bangs grow ever so slow so I can get a sleek hair-cut. I also promised myself to never get bangs again---that I would stick to this decision this time around since I've disobeyed that same mantra several times before. But 3 weeks ago, I went to get my hair coloured and came out of there with short bangs that I don't want and didn't want in the first place but I was goaded into having. Why do I do that? 'Tis bizarro!

2010-01-09T19:17:00.000-08:00

CONGRATULATIONS TO JORDAN FOR MAKING IT TO THE SEMI-FINALS FOR MOOT COURT COMPETITION!!

Only 4 out of 24 made it. What a huge accomplishment! We are rooting for him and his partner to argue their way to #1!! We are already PROUD. Yay! Jordan! (Jordan will finish his Juris Doctorate in May from George Washington University.

(L-R: Natascha, Jordan and Rose. Foreground: Hannah. Taken at the Bird Sanctuary in Las Vegas.)

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UPDATE:

Jordan and partner made it to the FINALS. So out of the 4, there are now TWO who will argue on January 19!! We hope you take the trophy!!!!

Yay Jordan!!!

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FURTHER UPDATE:

Jordan won BEST OVERALL COMPETITOR and two other awards! Check out his blog here. He will represent George Washington U Law School at the big competition in Boston, MA. AWESOME!!

2010-01-09T18:55:00.000-08:00

Baking Frenzy

So now I have some leftover chocolate, cream and butter, I decided to experiment and make some more chocolate baked goods. These are made of chocolate wafer--flourless 'brownies' with just five ingredients: 9 egg yolks, 4 egg whites, sugar, semi-sweet chocolate and butter. The big challenge was getting these puppies out of the cookie sheets in one piece. I experimented with diamond shapes but oh well....that was a waste of good chocolate.

There are 3 layers here. One layer has raspberries and the second later, a liberal mound of Nutella. Hannah and Nate were here for the weekend and Nate preferred to have no raspberries so to distinguish between those, I sprinkled white chocolate chips on top.

I made semi-sweet ganache to pour on top. I just let the chocolate drip and ooze where it wanted to go. Ganache is so easy to make. It's just chocolates, heavy whipping cream and butter. Everything evil.

Here's all my little babies in a row.

Raspberries, chocolates and hazelnuts on left. Just chocolate and hazelnuts on the right. YUM!

Packaged and ready to go!

2010-01-08T12:12:00.001-08:00

Bake Day!

I thought I'd bake a nice birthday cake for my friend's daughter's 18th birthday. It's a brownie cake with hazelnut chocolate filling and semi-sweet ganache on top--garnished with white chocolate bits. Indulgent?

2009-12-29T23:18:00.000-08:00

HOLIDAY SHOTS

Smart and beautiful: Lucy, my grand-daughter. She thinks nothing about wearing a tutu or a Snow White ball gown everyday and everywhere! That's confidence.

The cutest boy: Jack, my grandson.

Jack the Destroyer! We love Jack so much. He's only 20 months old and he can talk, follow directions and....destroy! He has such a sunny, happy disposition. And he's a quarter Filipino! Heavenly boy!

Important note: BYU WON!!! Yahoooo!! Here's Nate and Hannah at the UNLV stadium. They didn't stay for the whole game--first because BYU was way ahead and second, it was so cooooold and windy!! But they looked warm and cute anyway.

Lucy and Jack LOVED to jump from the couch to the ottoman over and over. They got so many toys for Christmas but the best toy they got was a flashlight. Note to parents everywhere: wind-up flashlights and spinning lollipops. That's all they need!

It was amazing how from the time Jack and Lucy arrived, Jack always looked for his "Papi". He always found his way to his arms for a cuddle or reassurance. HE LOVES HIS PAPI!!

Here's a sweet photo of Jordan and Rose who flew all the way from Washington CD. How I LOVE having them around! They are so sweet together and it makes my heart flutter when I see that. Makes me very, very happy to see them be loving and kind to each other.

Ahhh.....yes! Christmas morning we had homemade waffles that Jordan made. They were DELISH!! My sons arrived on the 26th and 27th so we just moved Christmas morning on the 28th. So we counted down. That morning, Santa came as always and filled everybody's stockings. We opened presents and what a great Christmas morning it was!!!

I can't resist but include this beautiful picture of Hannah and Nate taken at the Salt Lake Temple before they came home for Christmas. They look so good together....and so happy whenever they're together. It just warms my heart to see them love each other. Handsome couple!

Here's Jack opening one of his MANY presents. He did so on his Papi's lap. These are the cutest boots from See Kai Run. He loved them!

This photo was taken on the 25th of December which happened to be my 54th birthday. The kids filled 3 bottles with little snippets of "memories with their mother". This HAS to be the BEST present I've ever received. I just cried and cried and couldn't even open the bottles. I just LOVE my kids! They are the BEST.

Yaaaaay!! I get to use this book to learn to draw!!

Since the boys weren't home yet, we had Christmas dinner at Terranova at the Green Valley Ranch Spa and Resort. Good thing we live in Vegas where you can get a nice meal on Christmas Day!! I had the Osso Bucco. The girls had lamb chops and Kurt had some kind of fish. Yum....AND I didn't have to cook or clean on Christmas Day which was also my birthday.
IT WAS THE BEST.

Here is my beautiful daughter, Natascha. I LOVE being with her. She is like a ray of sunshine. Always so fun, optimistic and fearless. How blessed would be the man who wins her heart!

Of course we encourage child labour! Hahaha!! Here's Lucy helping Jordan make tacos for dinner. Lucy has to be the SMARTEST 3 year old I've ever seen. (Other than my friend Corsee's daughter, Laura Sanders.)

Brothers! Here's Jordan getting attacked by his brother Leland! Some things never change. I just watched and laughed. I just LOVE having my kids and their families!! Can joy be defined any other way?

As always, brothers can be such pills!! Here's Leland doing what he does best....annoy his sisters. But they do love each other so wonderfully well.

Leland and Catherine with their two beautiful children playing some kind of elephant game. It was hilarious to watch them. My house is a MESS and a half. Small price to pay. When they leave, I will be crying and bawling and it will take me a week to have the gumption to pick up knowing that the house won't get messed up because they will have been gone. I shudder the thought for now. I just want them around ALL THE TIME.

Natascha showing off the bowl that she made at Colour Me Mine. The three of us had a fun time painting for over 3 hours at The District in the cold, cold winds. The bowls turned out nice. Hannah made a nice mug for Nate.

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Game Night: December 28, 2009

After a wonderful dinner at Texas de Brazil, we played games at home starting with...extreme Book of Mormon Jeopardy. Video below is the team that won that game. In order to get their prize, they had to do karaoke with each one singing solo at least for one line. They were very game and good sports. Great fun!

Playing Guesstures. Fun stuff. Lots of laugh. Being family.

2009-12-25T08:57:00.000-08:00

54 and counting....down!

It's my birthday today....and just now, I took a shot of me on the morning of the first day of my 54th year on earth! Feels good to be alive actually.

Resolutions: be more bold about life.

Now...on to breakfast.