Passion

I really have no clear direction of where I am going with this but whatever. I think that we landed in that realm a long time ago.

I feel like I hear a lot about finding your passion and making that your life's pursuit. Mainly when I hear anyone use the word passion I want to passionately roll my eyes. I mean really, good for those people but seriously? Passion? I guess.

--Side note--I have a list of other words that I hate more. That is a whole other post. Ok fine, Classy. Seriously? If you use the word classy you just aren't. End rant!

Back on topic, I used to think of myself as a passionate person, especially when I was younger. I think that life has just beaten me down into a much more doldrum sort of person. Anymore I look at things and think, "Whatever. I just don't care anymore. Where is a cookie I can eat?" Perhaps cookies are my passion! Something to ponder...

So I thought that I would make a list of fun things for myself that I like.

1. Cooking
2. Eating--See the cookies are making a reappearance in this post, oh and doughnut holes. I could be passionate about those...
3. Running
4. Clothes
5. Shoes--These are very different from clothes and deserve their own category, just sayin'
6. Reading
7. Working 
8. Napping
9. Sewing
10. T.V. and movies
11. Making ridiculous lists

So that's about all I can think of right now. The thing is, I don't think I am passionate about any of those things. I mean when I think about being passionate it it just sounds like a lot of work. What does that even mean? Like would I die for them? Would I want my entire day to revolve around one of them? Would I sacrifice my whole life to pursue one of those things? Nope, sorry guys. I really like shoes, but I also like having money in my bank account.

Here's the thing, though. When is something passion and when is it folly? I think that while it seems boring to not really be super into anything, it also keeps you balanced. There is definitely a tipping point where you can be spending too much time doing something that you enjoy but there is usually a blow-back somewhere. In fact, just the other day Brian and I were discussing friendships and how hard it is to find time to cultivate a lot of friendships just by virtue of the fact that your time is limited and therefore you only have a certain amount to devote to many relationships. I think this applies just as clearly to our hobbies, interests, and passions too.

I guess as life evolves we evolve and find different purpose as well. Perhaps that term makes more sense to me. I am not even kidding when I say that I just had this epiphany as I was writing this. Purpose seems as though it has an element of work and grit to it. You can have a purpose that is not fun but is important to do. You don't have to love your purpose all the time but it can still be important and drive your life. New mantra guys, find your purpose--not your passion!

My purpose is to be a good instructor, a good ward member, a good neighbor, and a good mom. My purpose today is to clean the dishes, finish the laundry, and potty train my two year old. I'm not entirely passionate about all of those things--except maybe the use of toilets, I am a big advocate of that--but I will do them anyway. So here's to purpose with an occasional dash of passion. Passion could be good and add a little spice, but I think that purpose is where I will probably spend most of my time.

Lord, I Would Follow Thee

Everyday when I put Ada down for a nap we have a routine. I read her two books and sing her a litany of songs until I finally tell her I will sing her one last song as I put her in bed. I have an entire setlist that usually includes a number of Primary songs, occasionally every Frozen song (which thankfully I have shut down because dang those are long and have huge vocal ranges!!) and at times a popular hit or a hymn of my own choosing.

One song that I find myself singing to her has become a favorite of mine over the last few years--Lord, I Would Follow Thee, Hymn 220.*

When Brian was in his nursing program, a line from this song was the theme for their nursing school at BYU. I had very complicated feelings regarding this song just due to the nursing school's adoption of it. All of those bad feelings about being in graduate school, people who hold your future in the palm of their hand and sometimes abuse their power, then singing this song in such a virtuous way made me want to scream. I could barely stand to hear it without wanting to gouge someone's (usually a nursing faculty member's) eyes out!

Over the years, however, I have grown such a love and fondness for the message of this song. I find it thought provoking and so true to my experience. I think that it demonstrates our love for our Savior in such an insightful way. 

The first verse says, "Savior, may I learn to love the, walk the path that thou has shown. Pause to help and lift another, finding strength beyond my own." This simple sentence describes love as an act of obedience, service, and finding strength through the enabling power of the Atonement. Could we think of any more different definition of love from the way that it is presented by popular media? "Savior may I learn to love thee, Lord I would follow thee." Never once does it discuss what the Savior does for us. It doesn't even discuss how the Savior might feel about us. Only that we would truly love our Savior by trying to emulate him.

The second verse is perhaps my favorite though. It states, "Who am I to judge another when I walk imperfectly?" Then comes my favorite line, "In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see." We do keep our sorrows quietly hidden. So many times I feel angry and hurt and sorrowful beyond measure. Just the other day as I was reflecting on some issues in our family and how to handle them, I was reminded of Luke 2:19, "But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart." Just because not everyone is open about their trials and heartaches doesn't mean that they aren't there. We are all the walking wounded with our quiet aches. When I sing this verse I am reminded to be kinder to others and to myself. We may never know those secret wounds and if we do become aware of them we may often be ashamed of our unkindness.  

The third verse follows much like the second and was the reason that the BYU nursing program had adopted this song. “I would be my brother’s keeper, I would learn the healer’s art. To the wounded and the weary, I would show a gentle heart.” As I said, for years I thought of this verse in particular as belonging to the medical field because of its association in my memories with Brian’s nursing experience. As I have pondered it more, however, I think of those terms—wounded and weary—and reflect on them more as I have on the second verse. Yes, people may be physically wounded and weary but they may be emotionally wounded and weary as well. Frankly, we may be emotionally and mentally wounded/weary on a more frequent basis. I can indeed show a gentle heart and be my brother’s keeper. Little by little, I have begun to reclaim this verse for myself. 

The final verse has struck me quite a bit recently as well, and is probably my second favorite of the four. It concludes, “Savior may I love my brother as I know thou lovest me.” As I sing this verse I often wonder, “Do I pray to love others as my Savior loves me?” I don’t know that I often do. I am usually too busy asking for help in solving problems. What a change in heart this demonstrates. Likewise, this is another interesting insight into love. That we would pray to love others as our Savior would love them, not based on our own relationship with them. I also appreciate the final sentiment, “Find in thee my strength, my beacon, for thy servant I would be.” Again, this focuses on the enabling power of the Atonement. In Elder Bednar’s October 2004 conference talk entitled, In the Strength of the Lord he states, “Thus, the enabling and strengthening aspect of the Atonement helps us to see and to do and to become good in ways that we could never recognize or accomplish with our limited mortal capacity.” I love that this simple hymn captures the message of the Atonement’s grace so clearly—a simple plea that we would strive to find that additional strength in the Savior so that we could be his hands here on earth. 

After a complicated history, I now love this hymn. It softens my often hard heart. It re-orients me and focuses me toward my Savior. May I learn to love him, follow him, emulate him, and find strength in him.  

*Lord, I would follow thee

1. Savior, may I learn to love thee,
Walk the path that thou hast shown,
Pause to help and lift another,
Finding strength beyond my own.
Savior, may I learn to love thee--

(Chorus)
Lord, I would follow thee.

2. Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can't see.
Who am I to judge another?

3. I would be my brother's keeper;
I would learn the healer's art.
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart.
I would be my brother's keeper--

4. Savior, may I love my brother
As I know thou lovest me,
Find in thee my strength, my beacon,
For thy servant I would be.
Savior, may I love my brother—

MUSIC

K. Newell Dayley, b. 1939

TEXT

Susan Evans McCloud, b. 1945

You don't have to try so hard. Except for when you do. But seriously just don't.

As I was driving kids to half a dozen places today I convinced them to let us listen to anything other than the Frozen soundtrack. This is a major accomplishment for us since it usually results in a screaming toddler.

Anyhow, a song came on the radio that I'm sure is very old and very uncool but it struck me all the same. It's lyrics talked about all the things we do to try so hard. It talks about all the things we worry about and change to make others like us. Our makeup, hair, clothes, being thin, saying the right things, anything that we do to manage our impressions. Then the chorus breaks out that in fact, you don't have to try so hard you can just be yourself and like yourself.

I have heard this song before and it always makes me think. I often find myself fretting over these insignificant things. I feel like there are so many constant expectations to live up to and they exist in every sphere of life.

Just this last weekend was the General Women's Meeting. One of the sisters talked about her daughter who went to her children's elementary school career day and spoke about all of the qualities it takes to be a mom. Much like those old Young Women's lessons she mentioned that we have to be good at so many things--a household manager, event organizer, decorator, healthcare professional, mental health professional, chef, chauffeur, seamstress, landscaper, cleaning lady, personal shopper and stylist, etc. As always when I heard this list I just found it discouraging. Not only do I feel the expectation to do all those things and more, but I feel the pressure to always be doing them exceptionally.

For example:

• Most people don't just send paper Valentines to school anymore, you have to have some sort of original cute thing off of Pinterest included with candy and possibly a fancy goody bag. $100 later we have now celebrated Valentine's Day at school!
• And how dare you host a simple child's birthday party? Are you kidding? Where are the themes? The beautiful decor? The fabulous homemade cake that is gluten, dairy, and sugar free not to mention being organic and tasting amazing. Shame on you for using a box mix, why do you hate families?!
• Oh general conference is coming up? Your children should be sitting still in a homemade tent just like King Benjamin's people. Likewise they should be dressed in Sunday clothes to remember the reverence of the occasion and joyfully playing conference bingo with their siblings because they all remember who each apostle is. Oh and don't forget the elaborate feast of foods that you should have prepared the night before and then baked at 5:00 am so that you can sit on the couch raptly and take notes as well. 
• Obviously the best and most well adjusted children play club sports. Drive them the four hours to St. George for 3 soccer games. Now. Seriously, get up and do it now. 
• Did you remember to send in your filled easter eggs to kindergarten? No? You are the worst parent ever. Also there will be a Thanksgiving feast. And a weekly snack. And an estimation jar--don't you dare fill it with dried macaroni because then the kids will hate you. 
• Way to go only serving juice boxes at the kids soccer game because you messed up and forgot to bring double the amount of granola bars while you froze your behind sitting for 2 hours watching children who can barely play the game. Disgraceful.

I recently sat with a group of women talking about which General Conference talks were our favorites. One woman said, "I love the ones that just give it to me straight and tell me what I need to be doing. It gears me up like, OK I can do this!!" I just looked at her with dismay. I always feel so torn with our religion. On the one hand I love our church and the gospel. The atonement is real in my life and I am so grateful for my relationship with my Heavenly Father and the Savior. On the other hand I don't need more people telling me all of the expectations I am not meeting and my constant crushing guilt at being a failure at one more thing. Yes, I know I didn't make it to the temple this month. Did you see the list of other things above that I am clearly not accomplishing as well??! (Those are just the few examples I could think of right now--I am not trying to say that the temple is insignificant in any way or aligns with soccer treats. Come on guys, be cool.)

It often feels like my life is me trying and trying and watching all of the ways that I am falling short. I love the General Conference talks where they tell me that I am loved and that they appreciate my efforts. I need to hear that it is ok that my children eat quesadilla's for dinner sometimes and that they will survive watching TV because we all did. I need to know that it is fine for my kids to be raggedy but loved. I need to be told that you don't have to be the room mom, the soccer coach, immaculately dressed, doing service constantly, attending the temple, working from home, raising cultured children, and every other thing that it takes to be fabulous. Fabulous is not even on my to-do list.

I am lowering the bar, people. I don't think that it will effect anyone other than me, but I am giving us permission to not be great at all of these things. I am telling you that I will love you more if you don't show up looking perfect to everything. I will love you more if your kids have a lame birthday party with dollar store decorations and a homemade from a box cake. I will love you if your kids are scraggily and have runny noses sometimes and if your house is not immaculately clean and always decorated and you are eating Kraft Mac n' Cheese for dinner. Please tell me that you love to watch TV and you get cranky with your family--I would really love to hear it.

I promise to continue to try, but I am consolidating my trying a little. I am trying to laugh more with my kids. I am trying to be forgiving to my family and myself. I am trying to read my scriptures. I am trying to have positive relationships and be more loving. These are the things that I am trying to do.

I apologize up front for how pitiful we will be in all of the other trendy areas that we will fail at. But if you love gluten, stop on by. We've got loads of it.