Stand still

I have a confession to make, which may compromise my nerd cred. I don't particularly care for Legos and I never really have. I could cite several reasons that I never cared for them, but I'm going to focus on the one that's applicable to this article. I'm about setting and achieving goals, but Legos aren't about building according to the instructions. They're a creative exercise and that has never really appealed to me. So even as a kid, I was fairly incapable of just playing for the sake of play.

My name is Petey and I get stuff done.

In years past, the things I hoped to accomplish were simple tasks. I could think of a goal, plan to do it, and do it before losing interest. My attention span has grown a bit, but the length of time it takes to accomplish something worthwhile has grown much more.

What's more, many of the things I hope for now are at least partially out of my control. I can save up to buy a house, but I can't control when a house that I actually want to buy will be on the market. I can go on dates but my actions won't necessarily instill interest in me (although they could certainly dispel that interest). I can drive carefully but can't do much about the other drivers who don't. The list goes on and on.

Working towards goals that are outside of my control is nothing new to me; to some extent or another, the success of our endeavors always depends on circumstance. So I've contented myself with working as hard as I can to do what I can do to encourage circumstance to cooperate with me and simultaneously trusting God to provide whatever is necessary. I also choose to trust that when I don't get something I've tried to achieve that I'll be better off without it.

Usually, I can do both of these things at once. In fact, I've become dependent on my ability to work towards goals. Most of the divine intervention that I've seen as I've tried to achieve things has been subtle direction towards things I can try to get where I'm trying to go.

But I've had a very frustrating week. I was talking about it with a friend and realized that, for at least one of my goals, there may be nothing I can do at the moment. This is only a small step up from giving up, which is completely out of the question.

Please forgive me if I seem melodramatic. I'm currently trying to cope with the fact that my primary method of dealing with the world isn't effective.

Fortunately, the way ahead is clear. I just need more faith. The best summary I know is in the Doctrine and Covenants, which I accept as scripture: "let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed" (D&C 123:17).

For me, the current application seems clear. I have done, for the time being, all that I can do to achieve some of my goals. In these facets of my life, it is now time for me to stand still. Standing still doesn't mean that stop trying entirely; I still need to give God every chance to bless me that I can. But it does mean that I stop beating myself up about it. And it absolutely means that I need to trust Him. In the past, trusting Him has always meant that I did what I could and believed that He would bless me. But now, I need to trust Him without some of that effort. And with that effort, I must also sacrifice the illusion of control. I have to square with the fact that it is not my efforts or abilities or determination that will provide the outcomes I seek but that, to the extent that I get what I want, it is due to His goodness.

This is going to be a big transition.

Making happiness in the lab

I spent a month in the summer of 2006 working in Kent Pinkerton's lab in the Center for Health and the Environment at UC Davis. The students and postdocs in the lab who worked with Kent were intelligent, articulate, and kind. They supported each other and helped me considerably. Despite feeling underqualified, I felt welcome with all of my colleagues (although I feel that I'm arrogating myself to call them that).

It didn't take long for me to realize that Kent's influence over the lab was considerable. He was respected for being very capable in his work, but he was loved for being a kind tutor. He communicated effectively and did an admirable job of helping people feel good about themselves. Before my month in his lab was over, I found myself observing him to learn what I could about the art of building others up. I've practiced what I learned over the years and, although I don't claim to be a master of this art, my ability to build others has improved greatly.

With this post, I hope to simultaneously thank Kent for this significant contribution to my life and to pass on some of what I've learned about this important skill.

I think that the first thing I noticed about Kent is that he's sincere. It's simply impossible to not believe him, even when he says incredible things. I still remember meeting with him at the end of my time in his lab. I'd done some simple analyses of some slides and remember that he exclaimed, "You were worth every penny!" I certainly hadn't thought I was worth every penny; I actually had thought of myself as something of a charity case. But the way he said it made it impossible for me to disbelieve him. Sincerity was not a new idea to me, as I'd been taught to be sincere all my life – but Kent's sincerity was so apparent that I was able to see why it mattered.

As I attended lab meetings and watched Kent doing research with the others, I also realized that he was very specific in his compliments. He would isolate exactly what someone had done or a characteristic that someone had and talk about it. Specificity matters because it communicates sincerity and because it doesn't sound like a platitude. I blame my egocentricity for the fact that I don't remember any specific compliments that Kent gave to others in the lab, but I do remember that he told me that, "We'll make a scientist out of you yet." At the time, I was planning to become an electrical engineer and Kent recognized specific aptitudes and abilities that would make me valuable in research. Without this comment, made in passing, I may never have considered a career in research.

The two compliments I've mentioned were effective because I could tell that Kent really cared. It wasn't that he cared about me (although I have no doubt he did and does), but that I could tell that the things he talked about really mattered to him. His enthusiasm made compliments that would have been nice into great compliments. The first compliment showed his enthusiasm for good evidence to inform the community. From the second compliment, I inferred that Kent values his field and wants it to do well – and that he wanted me to be a part of it because he saw that I could contribute.

I appreciated his comments particularly because they addressed insecurities of mine – things that kept me up at night. At the time, I was not at all confident that I was worth the hassle and the pay that I'd cost the lab. And I wasn't confident that my abilities were up to par. Such emphatic, unsolicited validation eased the burdens that I'd been trying to carry without addressing them externally.

It is crucial to note that these compliments described essential, not superficial, characteristics. They complimented who I really am on the inside and not something ancillary to my character, such as my appearance or a first impression of me. Addressing people's identity raises the stakes; the insults that sting the most and the compliments that provide the largest preponderance of warm, fuzzy feelings are the ones that describe the soul.

Of course, my listed generalities only help so much. It can be difficult to find useful and effective compliments for other people, especially on demand. Over the years, I've discovered that a few habits have greatly improved my ability to give compliments.

I've learned to observe people carefully. I'm not content to know what people are doing because understanding why they do what they do gives important insight into who they are. It helps to never assume that I've achieved my goal of understanding people. They are infinitely complex, which makes them interesting and which gives me cause to keep observing. Of course, passive observation has its limits. I have found it useful to combine careful observation with good questions.

I've also learned to believe the best of people. It's easy to assume that people do what they do because of some character flaw or other, but I've found that there is a deeper understanding to be had of virtually every person's motivation for any action. Assuming the best allows me to stop judging and to keep looking for others' good qualities. As I do so, I'm able to see specific characteristics of other people that I wouldn't see were I judging them.

Perhaps the most important thing that I have learned to do to build people up is to care about them. When I care about people, it shows. They respond with trust, which allows me to understand them better and therefore to build them up more effectively. As I have chosen to serve others, especially those to whom I'm not naturally drawn, I've found it easier to love them. This increased love has enabled me to build them up as I could not do previously.

One of the principal joys in life is sharing a sincere smile with someone else. Giving good compliments makes me happy because it makes my friends happy. I hope it does the same for you.

A rock feels no pain

I recently experienced a significant disappointment. It didn't come as a surprise but it wasn't really what I wanted, either. Since that experience, I've paid careful attention to my emotions and have been surprised at how gentle they've been. I feel fine. I'm not sure that I ought to feel fine, though, and I've been wondering if there's something wrong with me and my emotions.

I'm sure it will come as no surprise to my friends that I took a while to question what the ideal of emotional experience is, what my current experience with it is, what difference exists between them, and what I can do to close the gap. I had an interesting thought yesterday: what price would I pay to experience more emotion?

This question probably deserves some background. As I've discussed previously, I decided long ago that anger would not be a part of my life. Since then, I've chosen to avoid acting on feelings of anger and have learned to process those feelings. I've learned to give others the benefit of the doubt and to be patient. Years later, I sometimes experience frustration and occasionally indignation but anger really isn't a part of my life. When I do experience a feeling like anger, I'm able to arrest its development, remove myself from the situation, and deal with it on my own without expressing it at anyone else. I've cultivated this control carefully over the years. I've considered it to be a part of the ideal that I call emotional maturity for some time. My conception of this ideal, in summary, has been that a person ought to use reason and emotion together to make decisions without allowing either one to dominate the other. Anger should be avoided because it's specifically condemned in the Sermon on the Mount and because it is so strong that it overrides reason.

Yesterday, I questioned that ideal. Specifically, I asked myself if I would be willing to sacrifice the control I've cultivated for more than half of my life if it meant deeper emotional experience.

I thought about it and discussed it with some close, trusted friends. I concluded two things: if there were something wrong with me emotionally because I've been controlling myself too tightly and if it were possible to remedy the situation by letting go, I ought to do so. My experience has been that when I've gravitated to one extreme, I have to release the fear of the other extreme in order to progress towards a proper balance between them. I also decided that I don't think there's anything wrong with my emotional state. I'm not hiding from my emotions and I'm not suppressing them; I just don't happen to have a strong emotional response to some things and that has surprised me but simply is the way it is.

This morning, I was flipping through Preach My Gospel as part of my daily scriptural study. I came across the section about hope in chapter 6. As I read, a strong feeling of peace came over me. I realized that I have learned hope. I live it. I believe that good things are coming. I believe that, no matter what happens, my life can be happy – and that other lives can be happy, too. I realized that when, as the saying goes, the Lord shuts a door, I don't stand there and look at it as darkness closes around me; I simply locate the best open door I can find and move towards it. I was grateful to be reminded that I can, in fact, feel emotion and more grateful for the divine approbation that this communication implied.

Now, dear readers, please excuse me. I have worlds to conquer.

A few thousand words, take two

Author's note: I wrote this blog post a few days ago. Soon after posting it, I felt as if I shouldn't have and reverted it to a draft. I figured it wouldn't do any harm to remove it as it had only been up for a few seconds. It's been interesting to see the reaction of my friends and readers, some of whom disagreed with any revision after an article had been posted.

I believe in transparency. I don't intend for this to happen again; I'll be more cautious than before about what I post. I'd like to make it clear that the primary reason that I'm posting now what I did before primarily because my conscience is clear regarding it, not because of pressure.

I attribute my unsettled feelings to the fact that as I looked for images suitable to make into posters, I came across many unsavory images, despite my best efforts to avoid them. The effects of these images has diminished over the intervening days, but was intense. This experience has served to remind me how acutely dangerous pornography is. Needless to say, I'll be even more careful than before to avoid it.

Below this line, this post is identical to what I posted a few days ago.

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I hope my readers will enjoy the little posters I made. I don't mind if you take my ideas and modify them, but you might want to check with the owners of the images (listed below).

Yes, a healthy glow looks good. But all you need for that is to emerge occasionally from your cave.

I think that too many of us believe that we're actually more productive when under the influence. I don't buy it.

It has always mystified me that people extol alcohol for making social interactions easier. I think we'd be better off if we actually learned to face our fears. Also, ethanol reeks.

Secondhand smoke is vile. Please stop.

NYC is full of people who clearly spend time exercising – and who smoke. Clearly, their objective is not long life.

I'm not sure if I can think of anything that would send me running faster than a girl who smells like smoke. Gross.

But buying on credit seems to be normal. Why would you do that?

This one kind of sums up the rest of them.

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Original image sources:

coffee

cocktail

tanning bed

bogart

cigarette

ripped guy smoking

ostrich sign

credit cards

You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

I'll start a summer internship in a month and a half across the country from where I live. Since it will take me so far away from the people I love, I've been thinking a lot about friendship in general and my friends in particular. I've been thinking about the times that I have entered a new setting (by moving or starting a new job, for example) and about the joys and sorrows this has brought to me. In this post, I'll endeavor to describe what friendship means to me. I hope that my friends who read this will have a deeper understanding of their significance in my life – something I try to communicate daily but something that I fear is not generally understood.

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The attention span I never had

I was bored a lot as a kid. And I do mean a lot. It seemed like adults always just wanted me to be quiet and not bother them. It chafed, but I wasn't in much of a position to argue. As the fictional Valentine put it in Ender's Game, "They have a word for people our age. They call us children and they treat us like mice" (p. 127).

My mind works really fast. It always has. I'm sure this contributed to the interminable nature of each car ride, church meeting, class, or social gathering. I'm reminded of something Data tells Captain Picard: "0.68 seconds sir. For an android, that is nearly an eternity." (Star Trek: First Contact -  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117731/quotes#qt0455868). Maybe all the other kids were just as bored as I was. I'm not sure. But having a quick mind definitely didn't help.

It may be surprising to some of my readers that school bored me. Read the whole story...

The forest for the trees

I’ve lived in Utah for several years now and I don’t know how many times I’ve heard about Logan Canyon in the fall, but I hadn’t seen Logan Canyon in the fall since I was young – probably about 12. And my brother lives in Logan, which means that I really had no excuse to miss out. Since I’m on fall break, I drove up to Logan and my brother and I drove up the canyon. We went for a little hike and drove around and talked.
I was surprised by the colors; they weren’t as vibrant as I remembered. I also was surprised by how sparse the coloring was; every brightly colored tree had a bunch of dying autumn grass around it. At first, I was a little disappointed – and then I had a thought: all of the colors together look like autumn. Subdued browns are as much a part of autumn as the brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges. They may not be as exciting or as aesthetically pleasing, but they are part of autumn – and there is beauty in that alone. I’m beginning to see what my roommate Jason has been so excited about since the air started getting brisk.
It’s hardly as if I don’t enjoy the beauty of autumn. And it’s hardly as if I don’t enjoy the cool, clean feeling of autumn’s morning air. But I know that these things precede the long, cold, dark winter, so the change in the weather has filled me with dread instead of with wonder. Now that I’ve seen autumn’s beauty more clearly, I wonder how much I’ve been missing.
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Gently destroying walls

I spend a lot of my time visiting people. Sometimes I talk; sometimes I listen. As I'm unabashed about sharing my opinions and feelings, I think some people will be surprised to know that I enjoy listening. Of course, there are things that don't interest me: mindless chatter, pleasantries (especially in large amounts), and so on. But if you want to talk about something significant, you'll usually find that I'm a captive audience.

As I've realized how much I like to listen to people, I've learned to change my behavior in ways that encourage people to talk about the things that matter to them - and because those things matter to them, they matter to me. I've noticed that many people genuinely care about others but have trouble being satisfied with their conversations. I hope that my experiences will be useful to them. I also hope that my friends, especially those whose temperaments differ from my own, will add their thoughts in comments.

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Why I call myself Petey

My family doesn't really do nicknames. I think that it comes from my family's very proper culture (especially by Californian standards) and from my parents' desire to remind us of our Biblical namesakes. I'd been called Pedro occasionally as I grew up, but it never really stuck. "Stevie Wonders" didn't long outlast my brief moment of 4^th-grade recess football glory. Everyone I knew called me Peter for my entire childhood.


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I’m an old man: What I learned from Taylor Swift

I own copies of two Taylor Swift albums and a single. This is about as much as I own by any artist, excepting the Beatles. I'm pretty sure my liking for her music flies in the face of the stereotypes that are typically applied to me: most computer geeks don't (openly) listen to her, and I'm not sure that most men my age do, either. Despite the seeming incongruity, I love what she has done. She has a gift for melody and another for words. More importantly, her songs about love are usually about love and not lust - a sadly rare distinction but one that is very important to me.

As with the work of any artist, some of Taylor's works speak to me less than others. For example, I like that Mean fights back against abuse but think that the vengeful attitude it portrays won't solve the problem. I have a problem with The Way I Loved You because I've felt like the nice guy who finished last too many times. I don't really get the whole kissing in the rain thing (Taylor: feel free to contact me if you'd like to educate me). And some of her songs have rubbed me wrong because they are so wholly about emotion - and because they sometimes depict an unrealistic idea of emotional satisfaction. Being as left-brained as I am, this is fairly natural. But, at least in this last regard, I'm beginning to experience a change of heart.

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Behind blue eyes

Introduction

People look at me quizzically when I tell them that I had a nasty temper as a kid; if they've met me since junior high, they usually have a hard time imagining me being angry. The truth of the matter is that I did have a nasty temper when I was young and that I've changed dramatically in more recent years.

This post is very personal - I don't often talk about these things. But a conversation I had recently convinced me that my experiences might be beneficial to others. I hope that by writing this, I'll enable readers to help themselves or people they know to eradicate anger from their lives.

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The neighbors’ grass

People are frequently surprised when they meet me at how open I am. I’ll share thoughts and feelings after knowing someone for only a few minutes. I don’t mind if people disagree with me; on the contrary, it can lead to interesting discussions and important learning. I try to encourage sincere communication. This is probably a major factor in the frankness I receive from other people.

But there are things that I don’t talk about much, especially in groups and especially with people I don’t know well. It’s not that I’m opposed to openness. I actually think that openness is a high ideal in communication. But there have been several occasions when I’ve tried to open up and been rebuffed. I remember multiple occasions when I’ve been told things like, “Petey, I just don’t believe that your problems can be as big as mine,” or, “But things always just work out in your life.”

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I sense much fear in you

While at my social dance group last night, I stopped to talk with a friend. In essence, she mentioned my lack of fear. To make her point, she observed that I am capable of performing an interpretive dance in front of my peers. She said so because she's seen it happen. I offered to talk to the DJ to give her the chance to do the same. Wide-eyed, she declined. I suppose that my exploits make me look fearless; after all, dancing strangely in front of one's peers can have unfortunate social consequences.
I think that I appear fearless because I'm willing to take uncommon risks: performing in front of people, stepping up in group situations, taking a long shot on asking someone out, and so on. But the more I think about my behavior and motives, the more I see fear lurking inside.
It isn't that I don't feel fear;Read the whole story...

On vocabulary

Americans (and people of several other cultures) are generally plagued with the notion that not knowing a word that a colleague uses is cause for embarrassment or even shame, as it implies a lack of education. In order to accommodate our fellows, we have taken to using a small vocabulary in order to not embarrass our fellows.

But not knowing a word is not an embarrassment; it is an opportunity to learn! We should enthusiastically embrace the chance to expand our lexicon – and, as a result, our ability to express ourselves. Our friends would hardly disown us for asking a question to further our own education. In fact, learning is among the choicest benefits of friendship.

On the other hand, it is an embarrassment to be a mumpsimus.

Optimizing away efficiency

I’ve been changing lots of things in my life and I’ve been considering several other changes. I’m in the process of changing banks, I’ve been thinking about moving in with some friends, the way I go about dating is constantly changing as I learn, and I’ve been organizing some of my congregation’s efforts to reach out. My schoolwork hasn’t lessened and I’m trying to have a social life (which includes, but is not limited to, dating).

As I wondered about these changes and the time they’ve required, I began to see a pattern. It’s not that they’re all necessary; it’s another form of perfectionism. I’m always looking for ways to improve things.

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A pain in the wrists

I haven’t been blogging much recently. Part of the reason is that I’ve been really busy with school and so on. But a very important reason is that I’ve been trying to type as little as possible because of wrist pain, which seems to be caused by Carpal Tunnel Syndrome (CTS).

It turns out that “as little as possible” is still quite a bit for a graduate student in computer science.

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