Monday, August 20


Sometimes I look at my life, and my future, and the unknown scares me. I work with people who are incredibly talented, accomplished, and faithful on a daily basis... and I feel like I am swimming in deep water. Most of the time, I don't have problems communicating, and I do well in my work. But what happens if I meet a woman tomorrow or the next day, and begin to fall in love? What next? I had the thought today that maybe it'll happen soon. I've been dating since I was 16, and can manage the outward signs of chivalry and grace as well as the next guy... but I feel like my emotional being is so... I'm not even sure of the word... unconventional... that even if I were to fall in love, I'd botch the opportunity. Or run away in fear.

And then I wonder if the reason is that sometimes I'm too complacent with the status quo... too afraid to make ripples in my own life... too afraid to jump off the edge of the cliff into the water even when I know I can learn to swim.

And that concerns me.

I can't afford to be Mormon Guy for the rest of my life, even if change means putting myself into situations far outside of my comfort zone. I can't afford to be nonchalant in my dating, or to brush off the advances of girls who may very well be a good fit in personality, passion, and zeal.

But that scares me, too...

I don't know what I'm afraid of.

Is it success? Falling truly in love and finding happiness? I don't think so.

Is it failure? Trying and getting rejected again and again and again? No.

I think that maybe what I'm afraid of is making the wrong choice. Passing up the opportunity in fall in love - a little... But more - tying myself to someone for eternity without ensuring that those ties will hold.

Is that a valid fear?

I'm not going to get married just because someone fits my personality. I know that. It's not because I feel societal or organizational pressure - I don't. And so the thought that I would make the wrong choice - and marry someone I couldn't love and support forever - sounds sort of absurd.

The fear of missing the right opportunity is probably more realistic... in my case, I'm pretty sure that if I did nothing, I'd never get married. It takes effort and faith no matter what we're trying to accomplish. And so I guess I just need to dive in head first.

That's one thing that's nice about cliff jumping and acting in faith. As soon as you jump, it doesn't matter anymore if you're afraid. You've set the pattern in motion and you'll hit the water either way. And if you miss the mark the first time, you just climb the mountain and jump again. And yet again, your fear is irrelevant as soon as the air surrounds you.

Friday, August 10


It's such a beautiful thing to attend a wedding. To see a bride dressed in white, flanked by a beaming husband, and surrounded by an air of infinite peace.

For a moment, I forget that I've never found myself standing there. I live life vicariously through their honest and truthful smiles, their endless optimism, and the faith that this step belies.

And then I remember where I am, and all the things that keep me from getting here, and the promise comes. "Mormon Guy, it'll be okay. Have faith... and this day will come for you, too. I promise."

And I believe it. And even if I didn't have that assurance, it would still be beautiful.

Sunday, August 5

Spontaneous Combustion & Love at First Sight

Let me preface this post with the caveat that I'm exhausted. So this may not make any sense.

There's a rag downstairs that is soaked in gasoline. Don't ask why. Every time I walk by it, I envision piles of gas-soaked rags suddenly bursting into flame... remnants from safety trainings or somewhere.

And then I also envision those same piles of rags suddenly spawning frogs. If I learned one thing in high school biology, spontaneous generation is impossible. Frogs don't come from rags. Except for when they start talking about the beginnings of life, and then they backtrack and say full-grown amoebas can spawn from hot mineral broth, but not frogs from rags.

But that's a sidetrack.

Rags can burst into flame because of the vapors that ignite. But they don't ignite on their own - they always need heat from somewhere, or a spark, or a bunch of sunlight... otherwise the rag downstairs would already have caught fire.

In my mind, to make a massive metaphoric jump, I think that love sort of follows the same dichotomy. I don't think that full-grown love is going to grow out of my lackluster dating experience... just like frogs don't grow from rags soaked in gasoline. But I do think that there are definitely ways to cultivate love... and to make it more likely to happen.

I think that falling in love with a girl, at least in my case, is going to take an outside spark. Something beyond where I have control. If it were in my control... I definitely would have done it. But it hasn't happened yet.

So I have a few options. Soak the rag in gasoline, and try to develop the skills to be a great husband and father someday, learn to serve and honor women and communicate with them... Or do nothing and hope for spontaneous combustion of love without much fuel... Or give up, soak the rag in water, and refuse to believe that fire is even possible. I'm trying to choose the first... and I'm pretty convinced that it'll work out. Gasoline-soaked tags eventually combust. Which means I should throw out the one downstairs, or at least get a metal garbage can with a lid.

Wow. I just compared love to a rag soaked in gasoline. I'm really tired.

Wednesday, August 1