Movie Review: White Christmas
- It's a Wonderful Life
- Meet Me in St. Louis
- Miracle on 34th Street
- The Shop Around the Corner
- The Bishop's Wife
Yesterday, we had a Sunday School lesson about mental health. I thought the lesson was pretty good, though I wished there was a licensed psychologist there who offered some general tips. Still, the bishop did an excellent job of opening up the topic and letting people know that mental health struggles are a normal part of life. One thing I particularly liked was his answer to the following question: "You talked about what not to do or say to people we know are struggling with mental health; what are some things we should do?" His answer? "Search Google for what to say to people struggling with mental health." It was brilliant, and here's why:
For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant; wherefore he receiveth no reward. Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness; for the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves. (verses 26–28)
But since I'm on the topic and since I've experienced hard things, including depression, here are some ideas:
Earlier this year, I posted about TikTok, but it was really just a post about the Internet, privacy, and security. This week, Pew Research Center published a report about similar topics: What Americans Know About AI, Cybersecurity, and Big Tech. To find out what they knew, the Center surveyed 5,101 U.S. adults and asked them 9 main multiple-choice questions:
Even though "Barbie" and "Oppenheimer" recently came to theaters, I'm not going to write about them. I'm going to write about The Adjustment Bureau, which came out in 2009. I'd been thinking about it lately and decided to watch it again last night.
Well, I liked it as much now as I did the first time I saw it. I particularly liked the last scene, in which Matt Damon and Emily Blunt's characters exercise free will to be together. When talking to a member of The Adjustment Bureau, Matt Damon's character says, "Is this some sort of test?" The member responds:
In a way. It's all a test––for everybody, even the members of The Adjustment Bureau. Most people live life on the path we set for them––too afraid to explore any other. But once in a while, people like you come along who knock down all the obstacles we put in your way––people who realize free will is a gift you'll never know how to use until you fight for it. I think that's the Chairman's real plan––that maybe one day, we won't write the plan, you will.
I suppose I harp on about free will quite a bit,* but it's my favorite part about life––my favorite gift, as the Adjustment Bureau member put it. It's also a major part of Latter-day Saint theology. If we used "The Adjustment Bureau" as a metaphor for Christianity, Mormons would say that the Chairman is God, and his gift to us is free will. More importantly, we would tell you that free will is worth fighting for. It's literally the point of our bodily existence.
Regarding Mormons––and Christians in general––however, I have a pretty big bone to pick. Time and time again, they say people should pray to know God's will. They say they want to make the Right choice, or the choice God would have them make. They say, "This is what God wanted" or "This is part of God's plan for me." It's maddening because so often, there is no Right choice; there is no predetermined plan that God has laid out for each of us; and God largely stays out of our way, so we can exercise free will. What is the point in having free will, if we simply wait for God to tell us what to do?
When I think of God's will, I think of the two great commandments found in the Book of Matthew: to love the Lord [...] with all thy heart and to love thy neighbor as thyself (Matthew 22:36–40). I think of the Ten Commandments, too. I think of all the ways Christ lived a good life. Those things––the two great commandments, the Ten Commandments, and Christ's example––are God's will for us. He simply wants us to live righteous lives. He does not want to make decisions for us or direct our lives to the tee. He wants us to make a myriad of decisions on our own and experience the consequences of living a mortal life––all while being kind and gentle with every living thing we come into contact with. That's it.
I love movies such as "The Adjustment Bureau" because they remind me what life is all about. They remind me that I am the master of my fate and the captain of my soul (Invictus, Henley).
*See Agency Is the Very Best, Omniscience, Timing, Trust God? Not This One!, Enoch's Tears and God's Rainbow, When God Makes You Wait––Huh???.
Thing I'm thankful for: medicine
When he was 70, my dad started saying, "I think I'm going to die at 72, just like my dad." I'd roll my eyes and respond, "Dad, you're not going to die at 72. Grandpa smoked, and he wasn't as healthy as you." I figured dad was simply anxious as usual. He spent most of his life worrying. My mom even called him Chicken Little. After he unloaded his worries onto her, she'd say, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" She'd have a good laugh, and he'd be irritated, but I always thought, "Yep. That's dad. Just a ball of nerves!" And that's probably where I got my nervous nature. In fact, the most commonly-used phrase in my childhood was "I should've done [this]." I'd say it over and over and over to myself. "I should've done [this]. "I should've done [that]." I seriously could've used a regular dose of Xanax or Valium.
In like fashion, dad said, "I'm going to die when I'm 72," over and over and over again. After a while, I didn't pay much attention to it. "Oh, dad," I thought. But then he went to the hospital for a routine ablation and was never the same again. He had a severe stroke. He couldn't speak, swallow, move his hands in a coordinated fashion, or walk. He often didn't––or couldn't––open his eyes. He stayed alive with medicine and a feeding tube.
Almost two grueling years later, he died. He was 74. He had lived longer than his dad, but without a feeding tube, he most certainly wouldn't have. Besides, was he even really living those last two years? Could we call that living?
When I was a high school senior, my English teacher submitted me for the regional writing competition. On the morning of the competition, I woke up late and was in a terrible mood. Lexia and mom tried to hurry me along, and I grudgingly got ready. I don't even know why I was so mad that morning. Whatever the case, I missed the bus headed to the competition. My mom, dad, Lexi, and I pulled up to the high school just as the bus was pulling away. My mom suggested we all drive the hour to Rome, Georgia, where the competition was taking place. I couldn't believe dad and Lexi were both on board with the idea, but almost as soon as the suggestion was made, we were off.
We arrived just in time for me to write my essay. I chose to analyze the characters of The Lord of the Flies. When I finished, I left the auditorium with confidence. An odd thought popped into my head: "I just won that contest." I enjoyed the rest of the day. It was the first free day I'd had in a long time. I had a nice lunch with a friend, got to know a few new people, and generally relaxed. When it was announced that the scores were released, my friend wanted to rush to find out the results. I agreed, but I took my time to look at the board. "I know I won, so I don't need to see the results." And that's exactly what happened. I won.
I've often thought about that day. How did I know I would win? More importantly, why did it matter? Likewise, how did my dad know he was going to die at 72, and more importantly, why did it matter?
I think it mattered because it allowed him to relax to some degree. Sure, he worried about a few things he always worried about (He really needed some Xanax or Valium.), but I think he was able to wrap some things up in life that he wanted to. I think he developed a stronger love for my mom, and I think he learned to enjoy the present. He spent time with baby Banks, let himself take naps, and visited his brothers. He mentally prepared himself for the end of his life.
What a beautiful blessing––to know when your time is going to come. He had a Scrooge moment and could live life a little differently and perhaps more tranquilly.
Thing I'm thankful for: the moments when dad's eyes were open, and we could see how big and blue they were
In Sunday School today, we studied the first few chapters of The Acts, and we spent several minutes on this verse:
Now when they heard this, they were pricked in their heart, and said unto Peter and to the rest of the apostles, Men and brethren, what shall we do? (The Acts 2:37)
Someone made a comment about the importance of feeling the Spirit in your heart. In fact, he said it's more important to feel a prompting in your heart than to think it in your mind. The gist was that you can overthink or talk yourself out of something, but you can't deny a prick in your heart.
His comment took me back to my early twenties, when I doubted my ability to recognize spiritual promptings.* At that time, I thought God must speak to everyone in their heart. With a feeling. A burning in the bosom. A gut instinct. But I didn't have many of those, and I certainly hadn't had any since my childhood. Maybe one. Maybe.
What was I to do? Was there something wrong with me? Was I past feeling? Was my heart hardened against God? I knew it wasn't, but I didn't know why I didn't recognize or receive revelation the way so many other people seemed to. So I prayed and I read scripture and I studied books and the words of modern-day prophets. I kept coming back to Doctrine and Covenants Chapter 9, verse 8:
But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.
Before anything else, the Lord tells us that we must study. Thought goes hand-in-hand with feeling, and for my part, I actually think it is superior to what I feel in my heart. I suspect everyone is a bit different, but I also suspect that more often than not, people forget about the brain.
Let's look at Nephi, one of the greatest prophets in the Latter-day Saint canon. He is associated with everything good and right; his older brothers Laman and Lemuel are associated with almost everything bad and wrong. They complain, they ridicule, they physically abuse, and they attempt to kill their brother on multiple occasions. In any given Sunday School class, you'll hear that Nephi was simply better than his brothers. He listened to the Spirit and followed promptings more than his brothers. And you might walk away from class thinking that Nature was too strong in Laman and Lemuel. That at his core, Nephi was––to quote "Sleepless in Seattle"––"younger and purer and more in touch with cosmic forces."
This couldn't be further from the truth. In The Book of Mormon, we read that Nephi pored over The Bible. He asked questions of his father and of the Lord, and he pondered the answers. We know that he quoted scripture with ease and gave detailed accounts of Biblical peoples. And in addition to his knowledge of spiritual things, we can assume he had a vast knowledge of secular subjects as well. Daryl pointed out to me this afternoon that when Nephi was commanded to construct a ship, he asked, "Lord, whither shall I go that I may find ore to molten, that I may make tools to construct the ship after the manner which though hast shown unto me?" (1 Nephi 17:9) If the Lord commanded me to construct a ship, I would've needed him to show me everything, but Nephi didn't need that. He already knew how to get started.
The Spirit of the Lord can't work with nothing. That's why we are supposed to provide the materials. We do that by reading a LOT and by talking to others and listening to others and being knowledgeable about the world around us. We have to stuff our minds with all the knowledge available to us, so the Spirit has something to work with. There may be times when a prompting comes out of nowhere, but I suspect those promptings are few and far between.
Finally, I'll say this: I think it's nearly impossible to separate the head and the heart. Feelings are usually accompanied by thoughts and vice versa. In regard to revelation, this head-and-heart duo is particularly effective at leading us to action. To dismiss one and embrace the other is an imbalance that will keep us from progressing over time.
Thing I'm thankful for: a husband to bounce ideas around with
*Members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe that God continues to reveal many great and important things to people, including the president of the Church and common individuals. We believe he speaks to us through the Holy Spirit.
One of the reasons I finally started Snow Bakery was the confidence I gained from listening to the podcast How I Built This. Host Guy Raz spends each episode interviewing the founder or founders of wildly successful companies; my favorite episodes are Spanx, Chobani, and Chicken Salad Chick.
Each founder details problems they encountered along the way to building their businesses and how they solved those problems. They talk about the mistakes they've made and people who've helped them. Every story inspires me, and some stories bring me to tears. When I listen to the podcast, I'm constantly in awe of people's creativity and grit. I think, "This. This is what the world is for. It's for people to learn and grow and experience happiness and success and take an original idea to it's inevitable end."
There's just one uncomfortable point for me, though. At the conclusion of each episode, Raz asks the founder(s) one final question: "How much of your success do you attribute to hard work, and how much do you think it had to do with luck?" Now, I think I've listened to maybe 30 out of a couple hundred episodes, but so far, the majority of founders have answered "hard work." And I question them every single time. Of course I know how important work is at accomplishing goals and achieving success. I know that both goals and success require work. But "hard work" isn't an answer that sits well with me. Every time I hear that answer, I mull it over in my mind, and I wonder what I would say if I was ever interviewed by Guy Raz. If Snow Bakery was a huge success, and Guy Raz asked me whether it had more to do with hard work or luck, what would I say? What would I say?!?
Well, I finally decided. I would say it was luck. Again, work is a necessary ingredient to most fulfilling things in life, and it's certainly necessary to build a business. I cannot deny, however, the enormous luck that is being born into a white middle-class American family in the 1980s. Honestly, my luck could end there, and I'd still be better suited than most to start and run a bustling business. But my luck did not, in fact, end there. Here are just a handful of other lucky things in my life: