Tag Archives: law of restoration

Music Moods and Alternate Views

Posted on 29 October 2016 | Leave a comment

As I was heading to get dinner after a community orchestra concert, I found myself pondering how I listen to different music depending on my mood, or the mood I want to be in:

Hard rock, usually performed by Australian bands, for when I’m agitated or want to be, or when I care too much, so I’m building a hard wall around my heart to keep me from feeling the pain, in an “I am a rock” way (and yes, I have my books and my poetry to protect me, in case you hadn’t noticed 😉 ).

Jazz for when I’m in a happy-go-lucky mood, or wish I was, or whatever I’m feeling, it’s like water off a duck’s back, and it’s not that I don’t care, but it’s all good, “everything is awesome, everything is cool when [you’ve got that swing]”.

Classical for when I’m at peace inside, or am trying to be, or when I am willing to let my heart feel those feelings that are flowing through me instead of building a levy out of back beats, distortion, and power chords to turn them away from my heart.

As I pondered, and decided on where to get my late dinner, I found myself driving to the place of my most serious accident. I didn’t do my annual pilgrimage on the date of the accident this year, so I figured, “why not?” I usually follow the path I rode my bicycle on, but tonight I came from the other direction. A whisper in my mind said, “Tonight you are the car.” I knew it wasn’t meaning I would hit someone, so I drove the path the car took. As I passed through what must have been the point of impact, I was hit with emotions (I was listening to classical, letting myself feel emotions) I hadn’t anticipated.
Auto-pedestrian accident

Grief, for how frightening the experience was for the driver. Relief, that to the driver, it appeared everything was fine, that despite the force of impact and despite my lack of a helmet, I was not unconscious, I was not comatose, and finally, that I was not dead.

I’ve always considered the miracle it is that I lived through that from my perspective (but of course). But now I realize there was a miracle performed for the driver as well! Tears escaped from my eyelids again, and I was glad I was taking the long way to Kneaders, so perhaps my eyes could merely be moist when I arrived at the counter.Sun shining over trees in park

© 2016 H.K. Longmore

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Virtual Needle

Posted on 10 March 2015 | Leave a comment

“Have a good night,”
I say cheerfully.
Silence.

Again.

I sit down at my desk
And think to myself,
“My current playlist—Ophelia—
Is insufficient for the hour.
Where is the one
I created a year ago,
For an occasion much like this?

Ah, there it is, right below
Cryogenically freeze your heart and
Don’t leave your heart in a hard place:
Essential Oils for the Silent Treatment.”
I put the virtual needle on the record
And apply my musical pharmacopoeia;
Unsure of how my heart will emerge:
Frozen, hard, or healed.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

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The Hardest Prayers

Posted on 23 February 2015 | Leave a comment

Some may think it kind
To pray for others success.
But one may come to find
In that prayer, distress:

He wishes her success in her goals,
He prays fervently for it, but there’s a toll:
Much to his dismay,
Her goals will take her away.

Can he secretly hope she fails,
While praying she gets that letter in the mail?
No, ’tis selfish, ’tis not love.
He’ll send a unified message above.

Each time her departure is spoken of,
Part of his heart withers,
And though it goes against his druthers,
He’ll hope for that which sorrow comes of.

©2015 H.K. Longmore

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Taking the Fun out of Jokes (Or, Finding Truth in (Insensitive) Humor)

Posted on 22 January 2015 | Leave a comment

A coworker told a joke that went something like this:

A young boy with Down syndrome had moved to a new neighborhood, and was waiting for the school bus. When the bus arrived, the driver opened the door, and the boy said, “Good morning”. The driver slammed the door shut and left. Hurt, he told his mother about the incident.

The next day, when the driver opened the door, the boy tried again to be friendly, but got the same result. Again, his mother had to comfort him and encourage him to keep trying. But she decided she would walk with her son to the bus stop the next day.

In the morning, the mother walked her son to the bus stop and waited with him for the bus. The bus arrived, and the boy greeted the driver again. The driver slammed the door and drove off.

The next morning, before her son could greet the driver, the mother asked, “Why are you being so rude to my child with Down syndrome?”

The driver replied, “‘Cuz hees alway ma’on fun o mi.”

Most jokes have at least a shred of truth to them; that’s part of what makes them funny. But before we all decide this was a distasteful, insensitive joke (or, for those who already have, before we start deriding the teller), let’s consider what truth there might be in it. On one level, there’s the caricaturization of the speech patterns of people with Down syndrome. This is at once what makes the joke funny, and what makes the joke insensitive. A nice bit of irony, that the joke can’t be funny without being insensitive. But let’s not stop there, no. Let’s dig deeper.

What other truth could there be here? Let’s analyze the speech and actions of the boy and the bus driver. First, the bus driver. We know, from the end of the joke, that the bus driver assumed that the boy was making fun of him when he tried to be friendly. We can suppose that prior experiences taught him that when people talk to him the same way he talks, they are making fun of him. We can also suppose that as he matured, he learned the “flight” response was usually the best when it comes to “fight or flight”. So, he naturally dealt with the emotional sting of perceiving that he was being made fun of by closing the door and leaving.

The boy assumed that the bus driver, never having heard him talk, was a normal adult, and as an adult, was expected to act responsibly toward children. This expectation was rightly shared by his mother—indeed, she was likely the source of his expectation. So when the driver closed the door and drove away, he felt the emotional sting of being excluded.

So what can we take from this? I would say the deeper kernel of truth in this joke turns it from a joke into a short parable. We don’t always understand the motives of others, their life experiences, what burdens they carry. We would do well to seek to understand others before assigning meanings to their words or actions that aren’t there (or that maybe are, but they deserve the benefit of the doubt). Even here, with this joke, we can assume that someone telling this joke meant to be cruel or insensitive, or we can assume that they were telling it as a parable: “Please don’t react before trying to understand. Please don’t be hurt by what seems to be on the surface something cruel or insensitive; reach out to those around you and give them love, even if what you felt in response to their words or actions was pain.”

Given the nature of most jokes, I’m not convinced the teller was meaning it as a parable. But I’m willing to give the teller the benefit of the doubt: the teller deserves it, as much as the boy and the bus driver.

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The Antisocial Experiment

Posted on 30 October 2014 | Leave a comment

When two people converse
But always on the second’s turf,
How does the first know
Whether the second cares?

They conduct an experiment—
Be their own turf king,
Stop conversing until where
Changes, not when.

But what if all conversations
Between the first and the rest
Are because he initiates?
How can he know the problem wasn’t just him?

And so was born
An innocent experiment:
He shall begin no conversations
No not one.

The antisocial element
Is quite perverse,
But perhaps this verse
Will wipe away the tears

Should it prove that the problem is him.

© 2014 H.K. Longmore

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Afternoon Shiver

Posted on 16 October 2014 | Leave a comment

It is meeting time.
Distracted by passers by,
Listen and observe.

I observe this one
Coming and going again.
The meeting goes on;

This one goes again.
My body soon shivers hard;
No explanation:

I’m indoors, it’s warm;
Winter has yet to strike here.
But still I shiver.

She returns once more,
A sweater now adorns her.
Shivering explained?

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Serendipity, Karma, and Synchronicity

Posted on 4 September 2013 | 1 comment

Serendipity

I headed to the mountains to go hiking by myself after work the other day.  I planned to hike to a waterfall along the Wasatch bench, but as I drove, it felt right to go instead to a canyon I had seen in a friend’s Facebook post.  I didn’t remember the canyon’s name, but I knew where it was and though I did not know for certain, I had a vague idea of how to get to the trail head.  After passing Big Cottonwood canyon, I just went by what felt right—what my inner voice was telling me to do.  A left here, up the hill, a left there, a right here, and—found it.  At the trail head, I was reminded of the canyon’s name: Ferguson.

A view of the Salt Lake Valley from the Ferguson Canyon trailFrom the first part of the trail there is a fabulous view of the Salt Lake Valley.  I’m sure it will be even better after a rainstorm.  There are also some large, steep rock formations up the canyon, some completely vertical. Up Ferguson Canyon I came upon some climbers and watched them for a bit.  According to RunKeeper, I had gone about one mile (my phone lost GPS signal at some point, so I think it was actually further), at which point I decided I should turn around so I could make it home in time to play Ultimate.  As I headed down, I encountered a local group of cub scouts heading up.  One of the leaders lives one street over from me.  We said hello and chatted a bit, then I was about to continue down, when another leader arrived from below.  He said, “He’s just going to wait there.”  They had with them a special needs young man who was ill-equipped for the steep, rocky, sandy terrain.  He thought he was going on a short, almost flat hike around Silver Lake near the Brighton ski resort.  Instead, he was facing this:

Ferguson Canyon Furgeson Canyon Elevation ProfileHe had basketball shoes on, no socks, and his shoes weren’t tied.  He kept slipping on the loose rocks on a particularly steep part of the trail, and he’d had enough.  I knew the young man; I’ve coached him in church basketball and given him rides home from basketball.  My neighbor suggested perhaps I could give him a ride home.

Karma

As the prophet Alma taught his wayward son Corianton, “that which ye do send out shall return unto you again, and be restored” (Alma 41:15 (12-15)) Having received so many rides when I did not have a driver license, I chose to give this young man a ride home, “sending out” that which I already received.  One of the leaders came partway down with me, the two of us helping this young man down, as he had lost his confidence from all the slipping.  This leader wanted to make sure I was okay with giving him a ride home, so I explained I am grateful that I am now in a position where I can pay those rides back.

Synchronicity

It turned out that there was not enough communication to get enough people out to play Ultimate.  Had I known there would be too few people to play while I was up Ferguson Canyon, I would have continued up the canyon, and thus not have been there to help.  This lack of communication, once I was in Ferguson Canyon, had a causal effect on me being there to help.  However, the fact that I was in Ferguson Canyon at the right time to help had three contributing factors: I wanted to go hiking, I got off work a bit early to do so, and I listened to “the still, small voice” within me regarding where to go.  The young man I helped commented, “It’s really lucky that you’re here to help me.”  I submit that it was serendipitous by the original definition, on account of me having the sagacity to listen to the still, small voice, though I was not seeking an opportunity to help others at the time.  I also submit that my desire and plan to play Ultimate, my desire and plan to go hiking after work, and my desire to help others came together in a fit of synchronicity making a meaningful relationship between my activities that afternoon and evening.  The Wikipedia article on synchronicity says “From the religious perspective, synchronicity shares similar characteristics of an ‘intervention of grace’.”  Indeed, for my young friend, there was an intervention of grace that day.

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