The Quintessential Relationship

I have a habit of writing about people who have inspired me through the actions of their lives. Call them my peer role models, I hold these individuals in high regard. In the past I have written about numerous individuals.....Danny Garner, Cece Elam, Matthew Hackbart, and Angela Riley to name a few. Tonight I am going to not write about a single person, because in fact they soon will be a married couple, and instead write about two individuals who have lived one of the most virtuous relationships I have seen.
I remember when I first met Austin. He was a brand new missionary and he was walking in Taylorsville with his trainer. I was a Spanish Zone Leader, and there was a slight prejudice between the spanish and english programs in our mission....and so I was a little disinclined to give him and his trainer a ride in the car I had been assigned. However, I remember my first days as a missionary and having to ride a bike, and so I stopped and picked them up. I remember looking back in the mirror and asking him his name and just looking at his super sad eyes.......I felt bad for him. I didn't have much to do with Austin till he was about to be made a Zone Leader. Later as we both served in a Zone Leader compacity, I was impressed with his warm nature and naturally charismatic. Later it was my pleasure to serve him as an assistant. I did not know of a more charitable loving leader in our mission than Austin. Although he led in a much different manner than I did, I was continually impressed with Austin's ability to lead through love and humor. He was one of the best Zone Leaders in our mission.
I never would have guessed that I would live with Austin....we were not close, and so when he and Andrew Bayba both came and lived in my apartment, it was a surprise. I am not an overly friendly person, and so we did not become immediately close. It would actually take his other half to bring about a more kind nature from me.
Kenzie was one of the first girls that came over to our apartment that semester, and she was Austin's girlfriend. Honestly, I was at first surprised that Austin had such a beautiful and kind girlfriend. I later regretted those feelings upon realizing his own depth of personality, which he keeps quietly hidden beneath waves of calm. In fact , it is Kenzie who is lucky to have found a man of his caliber.
Kenzie lives life in a vivacious manner, where she is constantly bring joy to those around her. Never do I hear a negative remark leave her lips, and she takes the worst of attitudes with a smile and optimistic attitude.
The caliber of these two individuals when they are seperate is considerable, but it is the synergy they exhibit as they love each other and serve each other that is truly inspiring. From Austin quiet defense of Kenzie, to his standing ovations and frequent praise at all of her performances in dance, to Kenzie's gentle defense of Austin and the way she looks at him whenever she comes over. They have both lived a relationship that I have never had the opportunity of seeing. It is physical to the perfect point, the point where it resides without crossing over to a point of extreme. I have never worried about their virtue, and likely this is aided by the way they speak to each other in quiet respect. Despite the gentle quips about needing to work out, they respect each other's bodies and personalities. Kenzie pushes Austin to his dreams and he is her biggest advocate. He defends her like a southern gentleman and she responds by acting the part of the quintessential belle. Truly this is a relationship we at times would call corny and claim only exists in a movie or book, but is witnessed in everyday life through acts of service.
The quintessential relationship is this relationship of service that I have seen displayed on both their parts. I have no doubt they will maintain a long and loving relationship even after they are married in a little over a month. This is because they work at their relationship and serve each other every day. I am inspired to the point that I have promised to treat my future wife in a manner that reflects how Austin treats Kenzie. This service was something I would have never suspected, but it was because like so often, I judge too quickly the exterior cover.
Austin loves sports, I would prefer to read a book. Austin likes bright clothes, I rarely wear anything but brown, white, or black. We just are not overly similiar, or so I held until this semester. I have watched as drama after drama has been elicited in our apartment, and it is not my cold demeanor, but the gentle peaceful nature of Austin that resolves the situations. I have watched his intelligence while we stayed up till 2 playing business games, and realized that his natural abilities in decision making are second to almost none. His sharp take is more often formed to kind words of inspiration than to harsh criticism. Austin is not a boy, or even a young man trying to find out who he is, rather he is a man fully accepting what he is and what he wants to become. I think this is because Austin has learned sacrifice, and through that sacrifice that he has experienced throughout his life, he has learned about fighting for what is important and letting the rest pass you by. Like a tree, Austin weathers a storm and sways with the moods of others, but always provides shelter during a storm. I will miss him terribly when he is married away, but wil continue to draw strength from the quintessential relationship he has formed with his wonderful wife, Kenzie......or should I say MAC...kenzie :)

Rule #1, The ears/mouth ratio

I was always taught that I had one mouth, and two ears, and I was to use them in the same proportion. Listen ALWAYS twice as much as I talk, and that includes giving my opinion.
I have always felt that I gave pretty good advice. I can be fairly unbiased when I give opinions and I try to always stay objective.....and I fail all the time. More recently I have started offering advice that was unwanted, not in any effort to control, but to protect and aide...and I overstepped my bounds.
If there is any one thing I LOVE to watch its drama, and if there is anything I hate to be part of....well that's drama as well. Specifically the type of drama involving teenage girls. Without naming names I have found myself woven into the intracacies of drama and intrigue. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE INTRIGUE, I love politics for that reason. However, I don't like intrigue when people I love have the potential of being hurt.
You never learn to NOT touch the stove till you have been burned. I have been burned by opening my mouth too much too many times...and I still make the mistake. Here's to a new resolution.....I'll listen not only twice as much, but 10 times as much and my advice will only came after constant pressing for it.

Random Thoughts

* TOP TEN MONTANA CITIES to Retire in....

1. Polson (Pop 5250 on Lake Flathead...a little bit of heaven)

2. Hamilton (Pop 5000 on the east side in the Pintlers by Skalkahoe pass.....)

3. Livingston (Pop 7200 out of the town in the N. Paradise Valley)

4. Conrad (Out of town towards Choteau, with a little 500 acre farm, Pop 2400)

5. Whitefish (Pop 8700, on Whitefish Lake)

6. St. Mary's (Pop 100, east of Glacier on Browning Reservation, 1000 small ranch...HEAVEN)

7. Dillon (Pop 4200, south of town in the Centennial with a small ranch/farm of 1200 acres)

8. Lewistown (Pop 5900, NW into the Judith Basin ridge)

9. Red Lodge (Pop 2500, right by the ski hill.....)

10. Ennis (Pop 1000, on the Madison River to write and fish everyday)

* Top Twelve States / Cities I want to build my career in

1. Washougal / Washington (Portland Metro, no sales tax in OR, low property tax in WA)

2. Boise / Idaho (Live closer to Lake McCall and commute)

3. St. George / Utah (I love constant sun and summer weather....)

4. Logan / Utah (A small city with great growth potential and beauty)

5. Savannah / Georgia (Southern Comfort......hmmmmmm)

6. Lafayette / Louisiana (Southern Comfort meets a little spice!)

7. Roanoke / Virginia (At the end of the Shenandoah....its paradise)

8. Charlotte / North Carolina (Great growth in banking, and I want to do business law)

9. Washington D.C. (....do I really need to explain this one)

10. Portland / Maine (I love the scenery, the choice of the unambitious)

11. St. Louis / Missouri (I love the heartland of this nation and the history there)

12. Wataga / Texas (Dallas Metro...means you can actually make money)

(honorable mention....Redding California) (Its pretty, shoot me!)

My Top 10 Favorite People to Road trip with and discuss life (no particular order)

1. Danny Garner (The truest of friends in this world, his advice is pearl beyond price)

2. Matthew Hackbart (Loyalty and fun in a package of adventure....bring the Mate' please)

3. Clay Zobell (We fight, we eat, we spend alot of money.....its fun)

4. Bonnie Lichfield (Give her a day and she'll change your life....)

5. Bailey Sooter (Vivacious with a touch of innocence and the mouth of a sailor..)

6. Hadden Monroe Elms III (Intelligence and wit cut to your own inner needs)

7. Shelby DeMars (Capitalism/Efficiency incarnate with impeccable music tastes)

8. Justin Rex Baker (You want a singing buddy....BINGO)

9. Brad Queen (Politically Incorrect meets one of the most charitable individuals)

10. Walter Ward Zobell Jr. (Wisdom and support.......my rock of Gibraltar)

Top 10 Most Personally Inspirational Books

1. Ulysses (James Joyce) (The ability of transformation within a day)

2. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand) (The need of competition and free markets)

3. Heart of Darkness (Joseph Conrad) (The nature of man and his civilization)

4. The Alchemist (no idea, he's Brazilian) (Follow your life quest, no matter the cost)

5. Siddhartha (Herman Hesse) (Peace is find within, not in the outward search)

6. The Satanic Verses (Salmad Rushdie) (Ability to be led by fanaticism)

7. Beautiful Losers (don't remember) (The horror of society when indulgence is taken to far)

8. The Giving Tree (Shel Silverstein) (Charitable service....no matter what)

9. Animal Farm (George Orwell) (All animals are equal, some more than others.....)

10. A Brave New World (Alduous Huxley) (How even dystopia can appear as utopia)

(honorable mention....Russell is a Republican) (Why everyone should be a Republican!)

Top Ten Bands / Singers

1. Goo Goo Dolls (Slide, Iris, Black Balloon, Broadways is Dark........yes yes yes)

2. Iron and Wine (Cinder and Smoke, Naked as we came.......)

3. Bob Marley (Redemption Song, Exodus, Could You Be Loved....too many to name)

4. Anberlin (Good Feel Drag, Paperthin Hymn, Stationary, Day Late Friend)

5. Red Hot Chili Peppers (Under the Bridge, Shindig, Scar Tissue, Californication)

6. Say Anything (I'm a Transylvanian, Walk Through Hell, By Tonight)

7. Enya (Anywhere Is, Book of Days, Boeadica, Storms in Africa, Orinoco Flow. Amaranthine)

8. Fall Out Boy (......pure lyrical genius..A little less 16 candles, a little more touch me)

9. MGMT (Kids, Time to Pretend, Electric Feel)

10. All American Rejects (Gives you hell, Dirty Little Secret, Move Along)

Spanish Pride

Me encanto mi abuelita. Ella es una inspiracion a mi vida. Ojala que puede ser digno para ser su nieto.......

My grandmother is the inspiracion of my life. She has taught me so much, but one thing she never taught me was her native language, spanish, and so any mistakes in my grammar to begin with I blame on my six month crash course of learning during my mission.

Helena Eudocia Rivera Molina Strodtman, is the epitome of dichotomy. She was born in Nicaragua, and raised in the coastal city of Bluefields. Hence the name of my blog, son of bluefields, is in reference to my abuelita. Her father was an extremely learned man of a semi-aristocratic background. Luis Rivera was born to the wealthy Rivera family of Matagalpa and Jinotega. Their plantations were evidence of their wealth, as were the political appointments of the family in the Samoza dictatorship. They were old money from the Castile region of Spain, that were renowned for being snooty and for the intermarrying of cousins to keep the plantations and wealth in the family. Luis, when he was a boy, had gone shooting with the son of one of the workers on the plantation. The boy ran in front of my great grandfather's gun and Luis killed him. The plantation worker vowed to kill my great grandfather, and so the Rivera's sent him with a German diplomat for 10 years. During that time, Luis lived in Philadelphia, Berlin, Munich, Paris, and Barcelona. When he came back to Nicaragua he was fluent in his native Spanish, English, German, and French. He later learned the native tongue of the Miskito Indians of the coast. He was extremely gifted and so when he chose his wife, it was with disappointment the family watched the wedding to Francisca Molina. Though Luis was extremely wealthy and intelligent, he never learned to control his passion for spending money or for drinking, it eventually led to his death. My great grandmother, Francisca, was a mestizo. She had native background of the Miskito Indians, although this was less than half of her ancestry. She came from a poor family, and her own mother had born children to 4 different ment during the course of her marriage to one man. Thus, Francesca was far from a suitable match for any Rivera. However, my great grandmother had what Luis didn't, discipline. She ran a successful mercantile business with the American miners in Bluefields, and was renowned for her generosity and shrewdness. Thus my grandmother was born into a dichotomy, and she inherited the best of both her parents, and at times the worst. She has the potential to be extremely intelligent, and her wit is second to none. However, she also has a hard time to control her own passions and her prejudices. She came from poverty and thus she lives a humble life despite her wealth, but she still struggles to feel accepted in a society she always felt she was beneath, much like her mother. My grandmother is my hero, and this blog is a small dedication to a woman I love.

My grandmother's stories are some of my favorite memories of childhood. I would spend as much time at her house as my own house, it was right next door, and she would cook as I played around her feet with marbles. I faked wars with my marbles, and then would go to my grandfather's room and star at the large map of the world where all the families trips had been mapped out. There I would stare at Latin America and know my grandmother was from there. Later, she would sit me down and would talk to me about where she was from. She would teach me about the conquistadors of long ago, and make me look up spanish words in the dictionary. I grew enchanted with stories of her childhood, stories of sleeping in tortoise shells, or sailing in a canoe up the river with her mother pregnant. I loved those stories, and I learned to love her. She is a hard woman, and she does not show affection readily. The first time I remember with regularity that she would tell me she loved me was after she defeated cancer four years ago. She was has never been one to show emotion other than anger and disapproval, yet behind your back she is the first to laud praise.

I applied to Harvard, Amherst, and Williams when I was graduating from high school. All of them required an essay about a figure in my life who had inspired me. I was later accepted to all three of these schools, and I attribute my essay to much of the success. First, it was about my grandmother, who is my hero. This served a two fold purpose, first to highlight my hispanic background and confirm my minority status, and second it was a truthful representation of triumph over adversity. My grandmother was forced to leave her country when she was thirteen. Her mother had saved money for years, $900, was needed to be allowed entry to the United States, and Francisca dreamed of going with her youngest daughter. My grandmother's older sister was already in Utah, and so they were finding sponsors to come when my great grandmother dropped a crate on her foot. With her diabetes, and lack of medical attention, gangrene set in. My grandmother watched as her mother died and within two days she was forced to leave for the United States by herself. Her father had long ago abandoned the family, but came at the funeral to ask for money. With these as her last memories, abuela came to the United States where she would be forced to learn English and learn a culture not her own.

In Utah my grandmother lived with an LDS family, and as she was mistreated here she would carry a grudge that she would hold against this faith to this very day. She went to high school, and learned English to a minimal degree. She felt the prejudice of an all white society where she was looked upon as a second class citizen. She eventually got married to a carpenter, Walter Sidney Ward Zobell. She had a child, my father, only to find that her husband was far from faithful. Helena was tricked with her minimal english into signing away her sign, and only upon her crying while cleaning a movie theater, did a co-worker take her to an attorney, the co-workers father. The man helped my grandmother win back partial custody, and with that she left the state for Montana. Here she struggled as a waitress, living with her sister and her husband. She learned english better and only cared about raising her son and finding a life that would be successful in this new land where she had been taken advantage of by others. She stumbled upon a rancher named Willis Dale Strodtman, who pursued her relentlessly. He didn't care that she was spanish, although he was a deeply racist man, and he loved her son. He was an outsider like her in the Big Hole Valley. A dirt poor farmer from Kansas, he had bought a small ranch in the valley and was considered and outsider. He pursued her until she finally gave in and told him that she did not love him, and he replied, "You will learn to love me." So her new life began as a ranch wife and she did learn to love "Dale." Dale raised her son as his own, and she had another child, named Frances in honor of her mother. She watched as her children became international trap shooting sensations. She watched her as her ambitious husband amassed wealth through his frugality and shrewd business dealings. Her life was changed, and along the way she had changed as well. She traded in her green card for citizenship, and learned to be patriotic. She came to love this country more than the one she had left. Later when she returned to Nicaragua and saw the devastation left from the Sandanistas, she would remark that it was no longer her home.

I have deep spanish pride, although it embarasses my grandmother. She considers herself American, and though she still has a slight accent after living in our country for more than 65 years, she loves this nation as her own. She has three grandchildren whom she has pushed for success in all their pursuits. She is my hero, and her life has been an inspiration to me. The dichotomy of her personality has been passed on to me, in my cold demeanor mixed with strong emotions underneath. Her life was not easy so that my could be easier. It has always been her dream to have a grandson be an attorney, and so I with pride am going to accomplish this for her, as much as for myself. The greatest gift I can repay her for her sacrifice is knowing that her posterity are fully American, and that they integrated despite the prejudices of the people and the odds against her. Me encanto mi abuelita.

My Father's Shadow

"You have to pay the fiddler his due Gage, never forget that. There is a never a free lunch." - Walter Ward Zobell Jr.

I was taught a multitude of lessons from my father as we use to work in our fields. As I was too small to be of much help, and when I was large enough I had developed a rebellious streak, my father would have be drive the ditching tractor as he slowly moved along the side of it and would manipulate the water to spread across the fields and bring forth life. I never understood that the conversations we had were another example of a man spreading a life giving substance that would of itself bring forth new ideas and life. My father culivated my childhood.

My first memories of my father involve a quiet individual who would sit me on his lap after he had gone running at night, and we would watch television. He would pop the muscles in his leg and I would go flying into the air, only for him to catch me on his other leg and pop me back. He would pick me up and let me walk upside down on the roof. He was the strong presence that would be gone for weeks, working at the Pentagon or shooting trap, only to return and opening his suitcases bring me presents. I loved him, although at the time I didn't completely understand my relationship to him, I knew that I trusted him. As I grew older I had new memories of him taking me out on the horse to move cattle, and later on the four wheeler to move the cattle. He would put me between his legs in between his arms and we would zoom across the fields. He never let me sway despite all the activity with the cattle. He also started to teach me at this time. I was four, and I had just been taught to read by my father's sister, and I was eager to learn more. My father was teaching my brother his multiplication tables. I was eager to do anything like Clay, hence my love of dinosaurs and legos. So, I watched as my father would patiently teach Clay math. I learned it from those silent times watching, and he soon learned of my affinity for it. We then would spend hours doing math on a whiteboard. He taught basic math up to advanced algebra. This was not all, as he knew how much I loved to learn, he would push history lessons and politics, and agriculture, and even basic principles of life. My father would get the family up every day at six in the morning and we would read scriptures for an hour every day. I learned as I watched him come in from the fields and sit at the table and read. I learned that the television was not as important as the knowledge of life. I learned good movies, as he would always find movies that were historical or inspirational, such as Ben Hur or El Cid, and teach me the history behind it. He tried to teach me sports, with baseball, riding a bike, and running. Only the running took hold, and we would get up every other day when I was in high school and run, or run in the evenings when I got home. We ran with either the sunset or the sunrise behind us, and across the fields of our ranch we would run two miles. He would push me, and as he would slowly outpace me, he would get a hundred yards ahead, and without missing a step would turn around and come back and run with me again, and with words of encouragement push me to NEVER stop.

My father is an amazing man. Back to the beginning of this post, I remembing walking the fields with him and he would teach me about life. We talked about girls, about religion, about the ranch, and through all the talks came small words of wisdom. I never knew how much of himself he instilled in me, till now I see my every action a shadow of my father's. Perhaps my lack of sight was because as I grew older and realized that everyone else thought I was intelligent, that my father wasn't as smart as I had always held him. He wasn't not always the most refined in his words, nor was he the charismatic negotiator that I imagined myself to be. He was old and antequated. I disregarded the multitude of men from literally around the world, San Marino/Austria/Germany/Italy/England/Canada/Mexico/Australia/France/Venezuela/Nicaragua/Argentina

and so many other places, that had come to our home and always told me of the magnitude of my father. It didn't matter that he was an Olympian that counted men from around the world, and from the upper echelons of the military his friends. He was just a man with old ideas that didn't understand the new waves.

So I thought I had abandoned my father's shadow as I became my "own" person. I was became popular in everything I did. I won national championships in speech, won multiple competitions in politics, and all the time he would push me to do better. I hated him for it, as it never seemed I was good enough. He told me once as I bragged about my second national championship in business extemp speaking, "When you have won an international championship boy, then you can brag....." I hated him for always beating me. I hadn't really left his shadow, I had just started to compete. So, I finally abandon all that I knew and held dear. I left my faith, my morals, my standards, and even my ambitions for a dream of being my own person. I finally was out of father's shadow......actually I wasn't.

For all my rebellion, my father had walked a similiar path at a similiar age to mine. He had felt his father didn't love or appreciate him, and so he had joined the military, only to have his step father be the only one to consistently write him through his service, and always tell him that he loved him. I don't know my father's whole rebellious life, but I do know the side effects. So as I rebelled and as I grew older and slowly my heart changed and I desired so desperately to come back to my faith and old life, my father knew the way. I never had expected him to be the one to show me love as I came back to my old self, he had never shown me any support while I had rebelled, in fact we had grown to despise each other. Yet as he saw me wanting to change my father showed me a path back, a path he had walked himself. He covenanted in his own way with the Lord for my allowance to serve a mission, and so I attribute my eventual serving of a mission directly to my father, mother, and a good friend's constant prayers for this gift to be given. Perhaps in the aspect of my mission, I only once did escape the shadow of my father. He was not blessed with the opportunity I had been given.

I have now gone to college and I changed my major from Psychology to a new love, Economics. I had never considered this major till I took an introductory class, with only two and half semesters left in Psychology, I left my major to pursue economics. I have never looked back as I entered my new major. It is ironically the same major my father pursued 35 years ago. Like me he enjoyed Macro economics more, but was better at the principles found in Micro Economics. As I have gotten older my father and I have found that many of my decisions are an exact replica of his, and despite our many seeming differences, I become more like him.

My body has changed, and even in how I walk and my speech mannerisms, I copy my father. I have once again fallen into the shadow or my father, but I am no longer sorry to be there. I find great pride in a man who should not be esteemed for his accomplishments, but for his ability to change and become better. I have watched my father move steadily through life, a rock to which one can hold onto, and he has changed from at times self centered, to one of the most selfless men I know. I have watched as he has softened even as his once athletic body has slowly grown soft with age. He still cross country ski's 5-10 miles a day in the winter, and jogs a mile every other day in the summer, but the hours spent doing situps and pushups and blood runs have all left. He no longer shoots around the world competing, instead he takes flights in his airplane to his two sons. He still goes everyday to the table or his office and reads countless books and follows political discussions. He no longer hates men wearing shorts, but he still will never be seen without his long sleeved wool shirt in the summer. He is the tree that has swayed with the wind, but has not been toppled over.

I love my father, and I only hope to live up to his example of being a man and the father that he has been. I look over my life and see the sublte hand of a father that cared. Like my father manipulating the growth of his field, my father has cultured my growth as well. You never know where the water will exactly go as you block its original path and force it to flood into the plain, but as you watch the contours of the earth, and come to know it as you know yourself, you trust that the water will go where it is needed and help the field accordingly. My father never knew where his advice was going, but as he gave it and cultured me he trusted it would end up well. I pray what I have grown to be is of acceptance to him. I hope that I can be like him when I am given the opportunity to raise a family. Once again in his shadow I am not married, nor do I predict myself from marrying till I am 30, much like my father.

This small note of appreciation is to my father, the farmer/rancher who raised me to manhood, and in doing so I have become more like him that I ever had dreamed, and for which I am eternally grateful.

Make the most of it while the sun shines

Its way to early/late to be writing, but I can't sleep, so I'm on again self medicating with catharsis.

I am up in 4 1/2 hours for another LONG DAY of economics. Econometrics, Industrial Organization, Quantitative Methods, and Econ History of Thought. 3 papers due next monday, and a rought draft of a fourth due on next Friday. Then I have a test this week and another next week and a project worth 20% of my grade due next Tuesday. I just don't feel like I will ever have completel control, until maybe the end of the semester. Then its LSAT prep for six weeks, and job shadowing with an attorney and spending what will likely be my last summer at home, and filing out grad school applications.

All of this melee of work and the end of the tunnel not looking nearly so bright as it does far away and dull, I have decided that when it rains it pours, and when the sunshines we make the best of it....but I don't know if that is always the best.

I have a good friend that when things are going good....oh there is no stopping him. The world works perfectly and he sees in the all the misfortunes of before the hand of providence guiding him and leading him to this perfect point where he has the world in his command. Ironically, I feel the same way, so often I feel as though the world is mine to command as I review my life and my goals and see them two meshing perfectly to create a world where I find myself invincible. We make the most of it while the sunshines, and then reality strikes. We live in an imperfect world, where the imperfections force us to grow and allow us an opportunity to form a personality and exercise choice. Then while it rains it pours. My friend feels life is never fair as one bad moment destroys his life. For him, it is always girls that destroy his world. Things didn't work out the right way, and so he is not only saddened, but he forgets all the good he just experienced. When I am finding myself struggling under the load of homework, grading, tutoring, my calling in the church, and relationships....I forget as well the glories of my life, all the accolades and plans that I have planned come to naught, and only the moment where I am lost matters.

We are such short sighted creatures, where the ebbs and flows of life throw us in a vicious cycle, and all we know and experience is the now, and the eternity of our life is forgotten. My life is not measured in teh moments of today, or in the extreme fatigue I will feel tomorrow as I go to class with little sleep. My life instead is the aggregate of all those moments together, over the course of a lifetime and then summed and explained as a unique human experience. We focus to much on the present and forget the grand tapestry of our lives. We need to make the most of our life as the sunshines...and then we need to make the most out of the rain while it pours...we need to instead of relishing in lack of hindrance and bemoaning challenges, look in every situation for the opportunity to enhance the human experience.

I have loved my life, ever single part. I regret so many decisions, but I cherish what I learned from those regrettable choices. My human experience has been great, even to those moments most filled with sorrow and compared with the ones of pure elation. I am the sum total of my life, and whenever I feel too down, OR to happy I simply remember the entire experience and find the proper perspective. The perspective of the past/present/future, and within that context I find how to act. Things are never as good as we think, or as bad as we feel....they are always somewhere in the middle. My father always told me this....and strangely, like so much he said....he was right.

Finding oneself in service

I have had a VERY long week. I feel like I am drowning in homework, grading, and even my relationships are suffering. I have had very few moments of happiness, although I did get to go out last night with a great girl......oh but I got pulled over by the police twice while we were driving. Anyway, this all led me to the quiet of my brother's house in Idaho Falls, where I know I could write my papers due for Econ History of Thought. Besides his constant complaining about me not playing video games, he was a great help in researching and bouncing ideas. However, I don't blog to talk about the mundane details of my life, lol, rather I blog to talk about the mundane thoughts of my life while I am living those mundane details.

My brother and I are very different people. He has a great aspiration for personal wealth and for the glory of the world. He believes money brings respect and would give him a manner whereby he could enrich the lives of his family. Whenever he views my life he sees a different path than the one I see, or want. Clay always comments on my becoming wealthy, and exploiting any gift to the fullest of its monetary equivalent. Quoting Clay, "I can't wait till your rich and powerful Gage." I don't share his optimism in regards to my talents, but equally important I don't share his dream. I feel the living of life for monetary gain is rather paltry and a low form of existence. I don't live to prostitute out those talents with which I was blessed, rather I live to enrich the lives of those around me.

Finding yourself in service is the key I have found to any happiness I have ever experienced. Humanity needs are like a gaping black hole than seemingly cannot be filled. It didn't matter how many times I won a speech competition, at a state level or even national level, I was only compelled to achieve more, not for the sake of my love of speech, but rather in the need to fill the hole of my existence. My grades are never enough, and so I push to find reason to my existence in my education. I believe every action we take ultimately leads us to seeking to prove a need for our being on this earth. We seek to constantly prove to the world that we are important, and so we often find what we are best at and do it continually for our own gain and acclamation. The beauty queen constantly draws attention to her physical beauty, the intellectual to his gifts of reasoning, the athlete to his feats of prowess. We even seek to attract the opposite sex this way. I feel we have it all wrong. Because no matter how much we attempt to fil the gap of WHY, the reason for our existence in the lauding of self acclamation, all we do is throw another glory into the midst of our personal black holes. I have only found one concept, one act, that suffices and momentarily satisfies my blackhole, and that is service to my fellow man. This service has a myriad of forms, the one most often experienced is love and the service associated to another when we love them. We feel this in our families, when we find someone we are not only attracted to but care about, when we find a passion in work that we do not for glory but because it enamores us, and we wish to share it with the world. The act of sharing momentarily kills the beast inside us, and in those moments we find peace and happiness. Truly we find a reason to exist when we serve others. It goes to prove the idea that we serve ourselves best when we serve others.

I think that is what I most want in my life. I have found the greatest moments of happiness in my life when I have been teaching others, when I have been loving them and serving them, or when I have been able to give back to their achievements. When others welfare because our first desire, then is society not only served, but our individual goals are achieved as well. As the entirety of society serves each other, I may not be able to fulfill my goals but others help me reach to them even as I help the reach their own. There is a reason to exist, in the aiding of society to a new level. I think this is what draws me to public service. I don't seek to be a Senator for attention, in fact anyone that knows me understands how I so often HATE being in the center of attention, but I do love to serve. I feel this fulfilling of the reason of your existence should be a goal of everyone. We all need to find what we are best at, what we love to do, and find who we love to do it with, and form a friendships with others who have similiar desires and then just simply do what we love. As we do what we love and are good at that BENEFITS society, we enrich our lives and the lives of the world. I think of the likes of Gandhi, Friedrich Hayek, Mother Theresa, and so many others that at times lived a life not appreciated, who pushed forward ideas no one thought was popular, so that they might aide society later. Gandhi built a nation, Hayek revived capitalism, and Mother Theresa gave the love of Christ to thousands, and not one of them died in opulent luxury. Yet they had a reason to exist, and they lived that reason.

I want to find my reason for existence, found how best to serve. I wish Clay could understand that I would be far richer serving others than I can ever be simply exploiting them or myself. My gifts, anyone's gifts, are not their own to be wasted on the gaining of wealth, but they are to be used.

I love humanity, its flaws and all, and there is nothing I want more than to give back to it the joys it has shown me. I too must fill the blackhole of WHY in my life, and I pray as I find the best way to do so that I will forever enrich the lives of those around me with more than my simple platitudes.

Ripples in the river...

I don't suscribe to the notion that every decision we make fundamentally changes the course of our lives. Of course there exists those major decisions that do affect all subsequent events and choices, but as those are few and far between, I think the most important choices are those that are made quietly and almost too casually day to day. However, as those casual choices that are made day by day add to their aggregate effect, a powerful force is created within our lives. This force affects us far more than all but the most important of life decisions. I think it is alot like comparing throwing a pebble or a boulder in a small brook. As the boulder lands, large ripples are created and the course of the river is blocked. Immediately the water looks for a path of least resistance, and as it finds it, slowly a new path for the brook is formed and after years this new path is forever carved into the earth. However, when we throw a pebble into the brook, immediately ripples occur as well. They spread, but as they spread their effects dissipate, until the very existence of the pebble hitting the water is forever lost, in the movement and current of the brook as it heads ever to the future. However, as we take thousands of small pebbles and throw them one by one, over the course of a lifetime, we build a natural dam in the brook and though the individual effects of those pebbles are forever lost, their aggregate effect forever changes the course of the river and even the manner in which is bubbles and flows.
Too often we become so focused on those large boulders, the momentous decisions of our lives, we forget the power of the little choices that are made often subconsciously. Equally, we often forget to even think about the small choices we make, considering their effects for too insignificant to ever effect our later life. However, I feel the beauty of the brook is not determined by the large boulders that bend it towards a new path, but the small jumps and bubbles it makes as it moves in a prescribed course. That course of the brook is not known because we cannot see the small pebbles that have affected that brook, as they lie hidden beneath the surface, and yet they give the brook its life. Such is our life, and each small decision, though making minimal visible ripples, forever changes and gives life to our existence. Though we look at see the careers, marriages, locations of living, and other great choices as who an individual is, I prefer to look beneath the surface as the little pebbles, the small choices of their lives that define them.
As we make every small decision of our life, let us not be afraid to make mistakes, for usually the small pebble being thrown into the brook, even in a location not desirable, does little more than create small ripples of disruption, as the current of time smooths our course and we are unchanged fundamentally. As long as those little choices that are not in the accordance with our goals are not aggregated to created a new path, we should learn from and live past the wrongly thrown pebble and instead glory in the small decisions we make that are giving our river of life the gradual changes of course. Thus each moment needs to be experienced and lived, though not relived and at the end of our journey as we look behind at the millions pebbles in the stream, with the occasional boulder, and see the winding path our life has taken, we are not saddened, but rather pleasantly at peace with the course of our lives, and all the decisions made that defined who we are.
Don't define me by what you see, define me by what you don't see that has been built up over a million decisions, for that is who I truly am. I think that is the message I got as I sat on the lawn in front of the Spori Building, studying Industrial Organization, today.

Hard Choices

I recently returned from Washington D.C., and I had the immediate opportunity to head to Billings. My good friend had pulled strings and I was being allowed the opportunity to meet the heads of the Republican Party in Montana. I had pre-arranged with teachers to be gone again, and so my dream was well placed and I was ready to enact it. Nothing ever goes smoothly. Between new assignments added to the syllabus, and tests that the teachers are no longer willing to let me take late or even early, I am caught between a classic rock and hard spot. Do I sacrifice my grades, significantly, and go to Montana or do I stay and keep up my grades. The casualty of one is the lowering of my GPA and the casualty of the other is the trust of a friend and hard work that was given to me to have this opportunity.

I think it is within the hard decisions of life that we are best defined. I don't know what to do, I am going to talk to my teachers one more time tomorrow and then make a decision on what is most important. It is at the margin that we best find what matters, and therefore who we are as a person. I hate the need to choose, and yet it has become a fundamental part of who we are. The choices of our lives are like the masterful strokes of a painter and eventually the ad hoc swipes take form to present a picture. I pray the picture I potray from my countless choices is more realistic than surreal, and more filled with form than abstract. Until the day I can look back on the tapestry of my life, I must continue to make choices....and deal with the consequences no matter what happens.

Will.....a favorite by Tennyson (part 1)

Facebook Gage Hart Zobell: Will.....a favorite by Tennyson: "I.
O well for him whose will is strong!
He suffers, but he will not suffer long;
He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong:
For him nor moves the loud world’s random mock,
Nor all Calamity’s hugest waves confound,
Who seems a promontory of rock,
That, compass’d round with turbulent sound,
In middle ocean meets the surging shock,
Tempest-buffeted, citadel-crown’d.


II.
But ill for him who, bettering not with time,
Corrupts the strength of heaven-descended Will,
And ever weaker grows thro’ acted crime,
Or seeming-genial venial fault,
Recurring and suggesting still!
He seems as one whose footsteps halt,
Toiling in immeasurable sand,
And o’er a weary sultry land,
Far beneath a blazing vault,
Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill,
The city sparkles like a grain of salt."

Juxtaposed Priorities

Whenever we feel we have the world at our feet, and that finally our destiny is within our control, we seem to experience a paradigm shift, where we suddenly find ourselves scrambling once again for what is important and what is meaningful. I had a paradigm shift recently, and though disconcerting and humbling it was, it added a depth of meaning to my life.
I recently went on a trip to Washington D.C. It was like memory lane, and I remembered my last visit there when we were visiting the Pentagon because my father was retiring from the Army Reserves and his job at the Pentagon. As we flew into Washington, and the epicenter for what is America I felt at peace, this is where I had always wanted to be. I had never felt at ease in Montana on the ranch. Though I loved the ease with which Governor Creek meanders through our land, and the beauty of the green valley dotted with the occasional bovine grazing, I have always desired a faster lifestyle. My mode of speech is fast, my manner of doing any form of work is quick and efficient and I was always told that it was my responsibility to do something with the gifts I had been given. I always assumed that meant that to give the meaning to my life that my family expected, we are an over achieving family (both my father and aunt were world champions in their respective sport of shooting) , I was to be someone that would bring great honor and glory to the name. My grandfather had been told once his grandson would be a politician, and so all the life time of my own expectations came to me as I came to Washington D.C. on a first step to a lifetime. I was only looking for an internship, but it would be the opening to a great future.
The trip was amazing, and the people were what I expected. Society, despite the inefficiency of our government, runs so smoothly as everyone is caught up in their own world of what needs to be done. The competency of the individual and quiet confidence inspired me to greater heights of imagination and dreams. I remarked jokingly that I would give my soal to be in D.C. and go to graduate school there. Yes, I had found what I desired.
This blog is not meant to speak about the rest of the trip, but rather about the juxtaposition I have now found my priorities. With lofty dreams and a body overly exhausted, the plane ride back to Salt Lake City was uneventful, but for one moment of clarity. It was past 10, and across the aisle from me was a family coming home from Disney World. I could see the stuffed animals, and the large family were all joking with each other. Nestled between the mother and father was a child that seemed out of place. They were a typical white family, but here was the most beautiful little Asian girl. With wide eyes she kept getting out of her seat and calling for her father and then would nestle into his lap with her small arms around his chest. My dreams were shattered as I silently observed true meaning. What have I been building my life towards?
I think God is trying to teach me a lesson. My schooling is almost done. I have one more semester and I will likely walk in December before my internship. Have I wasted all my education? My accolades would speak differently with a 3.95 GPA, multiple extracurriculars, hours upon hours of productive work accomplished in any number of different occupations, and even my callings were all fulfilled to a great extent....how could Ihave failed, I have led an exemplary college career, and I am ready for the next move to graduate school. But, all those accomplishments, every compliment on my intelligence and how far I would go in life meant nothing as I saw a little girl trust her father implicitly. What matters in life? It won't be the my great career, no matter how amazing I find myself or even the world finds me. I have shunned multiple opportunities to date and pursue relationships simply because they were beneath me. The countless reasons for such cold reception to intimacy is for another time, but what my paradigm shift did was show me that I have quickly run out of time. I don't need to be married, I am not a product of a culture of my religion that dictates when and what I should do, but rather I am worried I have lost the chance at something that gives true meaning, and that is a family.
For all the successes in life, they are all negated by failure in the home. Perhaps priorities must be changed so that instead of simply focusing my desire on my career, I focus it instead on someone who with I can start a family. I am not looking to get married, but perhaps it is time to actually start considering relationships. In the end, the meaning my family always has pushed me to have is not the glories of Washington, though they are great, but rather in the arms of a little boy or girl calling me father.

Listen to gz9s Playlist