accused of crimes like codependence

Time to update; I've compiled a resume and portfolio, my room is clean, and version three of the Peircean exam is working. (I need to add a few more features, including record-keeping, and then I'll post the link.) Compiled the job stuff for an interview today, actually. Update: This week, 'Brozy was rejected from writing for Tahitian Noni, and I was rejected from programming...yup, for Tahitian Noni. Where lower can we go, sanitizing prison toilets?

Ambrosia and I have also decided to cut things back for a while. We could make it work if we got married now, but we aren't ready to be really good spouses yet (mostly on my end), so we're just going to enjoy one another's company, work on individual readiness for marriage, and hope that we're still compatible when we're mature enough to declare our engagement with pride and excitement. (Yes, it's her idea. She's right, though.)

I've also been taking discussions from the ward missionaries; my bishop decided I need to work on my foundation in the Gospel. I was really cynical at first, but it's been a fantastic experience; one of them, a brilliant arty guy from the hippie complex in our ward, waited several years to decide he wanted to go on his mission, and met with me partially as preparation for heading off into the Hungarian mission next month. I've enjoyed developing a possible worldview with them and would like to share it for my believing friends. Again, I present these not as articles of faith self-evident from established doctrine, but a moral system that pleases me.

It struck me as we read "The honest seeker of truth will soon come to feel that the Book of Mormon is the word of God" that this is a fascinatingly straightforward arrangement. Moroni's promise says that those who pray about the Book of Mormon with intent to follow its teachings will receive a knowledge of its truthfulness. Along with "When we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated" and "I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say," this shows a strong determinism in Mormon theology.

Our discussion on agency and the knowledge of good and evil again emphasized that our happiness is causally bound to our choices. In particular, I feel that Adam and Eve knew no happiness in the Garden not because they had no memories of pain to compare, but because we can only find happiness in construction, in perfecting an imperfect world; the fulfillment of tending plants was orders of magnitude below that of raising children.

"Because of our sins," the same lesson continues, "we are unable to live with Heavenly Father unless we are first forgiven and cleansed." However, nearly everyone will be cleansed before the final judgement, whether by grace or punishment; clearly cleanness is not the only requirement for eternal life, or all would inherit the celestial kingdom. To me, this suggests that the real miracle of the Atonement is not merely erasing mistakes, continually reverting us to our baptismal state, but improving our character. That is, not a change of what we've done, but who we are.

The future Hungarian missionary loves to describe our spiritual conundrum as God saying, "Are you ready?" and us replying "No, not yet." Apparently C.S. Lewis' Great Divorce describes spiritual progress as divorcing ourselves from our sins, from our over-loyalties to individual instincts. I enjoy combining this with Paul's allegory of the wedding of Christ and the Church. One could say, then, that we're being commitment-phobic, afraid of the necessary compromises intrinsic to marriage. Afraid of letting the Atonement change who we are.

The Bible Dictionary defines faith as "trust" or "confidence," going on to declare that "Strong faith is developed by obedience to the gospel of Jesus Christ...true faith always moves its possessor to some kind of physical and mental action." This seeming chicken-egg paradox in fact describes a spiraling cycle: as we develop trust in Christ, we are obedient to Him. As we see the blessings of this obedience, our trust deepens. Again combining two metaphors, not only does our light move ahead to light the path as we walk, but as we accelerate, it grows brighter, allowing us to move forward confidently.

To apply this to Lewis' house renovation metaphor, most begin by testing Moroni's promise: they tell God they're ready for Him to replace the front door. It's a nice door. They trust Him to change the wallpaper, giving up coffee. Then it's their pet sin, and God's outside the den with a bulldozer, ready to add a three-car garage, and they shout, "No! No, I'm not ready!" Each step demands greater trust as the exchange moves away from a deterministic, specific contract to the ultimate covenant: "I'll do whatever you ask for eternal happiness."

Dr. Manning, using a moral system focused on explicit honesty, has further explained that covenants, particularly those made publically, are essential to moral progress, which accounts for the necessity of incremental (rather than gradual) progress. His denigration of utilitarianism as short-sighted grates on me, but his explanation that covenants are necessary because it's impractical to continually re-evaluate the wisdom of remaining obedient makes sense, particularly insofar as we're less likely to consider the long-term consequences when making individual decisions than when setting policy. (His explanation of the public aspect: for one, truthfulness is inherently moral, and also, you need society's support in the endeavour.)

When you incorporate incremental growth into the spiral model, repentance merges with Bott's spiritual drought: whenever the Spirit wanes, you are invited to increase your trust, to make a higher covenant, to allow Christ to build a new wing in your spiritual mansion. From this perspective, the whole of our spiritual existence reduces to two phases: making and keeping covenants, or repentance/faith and enduring to the end.

In our last discussion, we realized that the Sacrament is intended to be the peak of this spiral; while obviously any time is a good time to resolve to live an higher law, the Sacrament serves as a weekly reminder to lengthen our stride.

End ward missionary epiphanies. Begin Covey's Divine Center epiphanies.

Major thing I've gotten in reading this book: the more I hate things, the more they control me. In so vehemently disdaining work, accomplishment, and athleticism because they're flawed centers, I have made them my centers, because no one's life revolves more around the physical than an uneducated, out-of-shape Safeway employee. They're not reasons to live, no, but they are methods toward the real reason, and only by mastering them can I put them aside when expedient.

I identified so strongly with Bonds that Make Us Free because I thought relationships were the reason, but they aren't, though I think they're closest to it. Now I wish that I'd read Divine Center first, because it teaches you the reason, and then Bonds teaches you the method of relationships. Next, I think I'm going to read Seven Habits of Highly Effective People and learn the method of work.

The distinction is indeed profound; while many of the examples from Bonds and Divine Center sound equivalent--for example, not yelling at kids making you late for church, because it's more important to teach them charity than punctuality--you can only practice the principles perfectly with a divine perspective, for if relationships are the reason, eventually you will buckle and retaliate when nothing you do can soften a foe's heart.

If you draw your confidence, your endurance, from your relationship with God, nothing anyone can do can take that away, whether they mock your beliefs, vandalize your property, or turn your children against you; you will not become defensive, because they cannot strike your center, and you will see every individual with whom you interact as an investigator, not a threat. You will know that the whisperings of their consciences when they see that you return love for hatred is more powerful than any words you could shout.

It also emphasizes the power of definition, drawing on a case in which test scores for two batches of British schoolchildren were confused, resulting in a remedial course for the gifted children and vice-versa. By the time the error was realized, the children had largely adapted to their environments. Clearly, there will always be biological and psychological limitations, but by and large, we act as we expect ourselves to act, and others act as we expect them to act. Merely by deciding that I will act like a man ready for marriage, my temperment and behaviour have radically shifted over the past few weeks.

Anyway, the thesis is that whenever we center our lives around anything on this earth, be it career, hedonism, or even family or the Church, we set ourselves up for failure, because they're all imperfect. We must choose an infallible framework by which to interpret our experiences, and Covey asserts that must be God. It occurred to me, in reading, that Grant has anchored his life equally firmly in infallible logical truth, but in Covey's analysis of what we get from our center--security, guidance, wisdom, and power--logical truth offers no power, for it performs nothing and shows no loyalty; our choice is whether we can reform ourselves or need the guiding and refining influence of the Holy Ghost.

So yes. It is a strength and a weakness that my behaviour is so controlled by my understanding of principles, but for now, it's helping. Going running in an hour. Continuing to look for a job. Giving this stereotypical Mormon adult thing an earnest try.