One Dish at a Time

Back in the summer of 2000, I found myself standing at one of those archetypal crossroads that would have a big impact on the next ten years or so of my life. The scenery was typical for a guy in his early-thirties: I was unhappy with my employment situation and was looking to make a last-minute change before I hit 40.

Not long after I handed over my two-weeks notice, the powers-that-be sent a very likable guy down from corporate to reason with me. The company had invested a large sum of corporate "play money" in my training, and was hoping to extend their profit by talking me down from the ledge of my work-related grievances. After a lengthy discussion, I was told that I needed to better develop the ability to “compartmentalize” my life. In short, this would involve choosing to methodically think about one thing at a time while allowing other important (but not as important) matters to fall temporarily by the wayside.

At the time, I smiled, shook hands, and said I would consider the advice. In the back of my mind, though,  I thought I had been given a fool's errand – rose-tinted advice that was hopelessly idealistic. I ended up leaving the company shortly thereafter because, to me, there were just too many things going wrong simultaneously within the organization to efficently deal with.

As I have gotten older, I have realized that I was missing a couple of important elements that may have helped to translate this idea of compartmentalization into a more realistic option.

The first of these problems was simple:

I had poor vision.

More specifically and less metaphorically, I lacked a correct mental and spiritual picture of what really matters most.....and it didn't have anything to do with which policies were being implemented at the office.

I doubt a person needs to be affiliated with an organized religion to recall discussions or sermons addressing end-of-life priorities and what kinds of things we are likely to remember at that time.  I believe this topic catches our interest for at least one reason. Most people, regardless of social class or standing, end up saying similar things when they face the end of mortal life....and these insights run counter to the inclinations of those still swimming in the fast-moving current of work, family obligations and other interests. For example, I doubt many of us will come to regret our attempts to live with an open heart in our increasingly sterile emotional climate. The so-called saccharin-soaked axioms we embrace during our time on earth may well end up being the sweetener we enjoy during our last few days in mortality. I believe we will find that a simple hug or the memory of a verbal sentiment will increase its value a hundredfold when we arrive at that junction. On the other hand, I wonder how many business interests, intellectual pursuits, or other secular accomplishments we will savor when our time comes. I’m guessing not many. While I believe we develop good character traits and gain valuable experiences against the backdrop of our worldly interests, I think we will ultimately find that the profound satisfaction we seek  masquerades in the guise of the simple opportunities outside of our paychecks, the internet or even the election polls.

 Using myself as an example, I can remember a day when I had  performed (in my perception) at a high level at work. In the course of duty, I encountered and overcame challenges that stimulated my mind and invigorated my sense of creativity. I came home feeling pretty good about myself, sure that I had made a meaningful contribution to my section of the vineyard. At the end of that particular day, however, I had the distinct impression come over me that the most useful work I had participated in all day was to help my wife do the dishes after dinner.

Imagine that!

Though we all know the principle behind this impression is probably true, our minds have a hard time accepting it. There is beauty in the mundane, but we have to choose it to see it. I think this is true for guys and gals alike.

Sometimes I feel like I want to grab life by the scruff of its chaotic neck and give it a thumping.

I want to try to add something in the mix that will make my way of thinking seem brilliant.

I want to analyze.

I want to get the credit for figuring it all out on my own.

I want to be important and make a mark on this world that will last for generations!

Sound even vaguely familiar?

The 61st section of the Doctrine and Covenants gives us some food for thought.

“This Revelation was “given through Joseph Smith the Prophet, on the bank of the Missouri River, McIlwaine’s Bend, 12 August 1831 (see History of the Church, 1:202–5). On their return trip to Kirtland, the Prophet and ten elders had traveled down the Missouri River in canoes.”

Moving to verse three, he states:

“But verily I say unto you, that it is not needful for this whole company of mine elders to be moving swiftly upon the waters, whilst the inhabitants on either side are perishing in unbelief.”

I have always interpreted this passage to mean that we shouldn’t get so focused one aspect of our life's mission that we miss the importance of other less obvious parts that, truth be told, are more relevant and useful in that particular moment than what we had our minds set on. Joseph wholeheartedly believed He was on an errand form the Lord. The Spirit didn't correct his mission of his purpose....he simply told him to slow down! A sense of purpose and direction are great, but not if we are ignoring opportunities that present themselves to us as we travel. That means different things for each one of us, but the beauty of the principle is that it doesn't take much thought to figure out where it applies in our particular circumstances

Haven’t you ever packed for a trip?

Wasn’t it exciting to get on the entrance ramp to a superhighway, floor the gas petal, and commence the journey?

The sensations and anticipation of traveling toward a given destination are so compelling that sometimes it doesn’t even matter if we’re headed in the right direction…or if that broken-down car on the side of the road needs a couple of seconds of our time to make sure they have a cell-phone and a ride.

It's about being in control of our lives....but not.

It's about holding on to our goals and our plans...but loosely.

Living with this kind of balance involves focus, thought-control, and yes, compartmentalization. When the things that matter are well-tended, compartmentalization becomes much easier because our consciences aren’t bursting through the walls of our compartment with accusations of what should have been done or what might have been.

We are, as my boss put it, traveling light.

It’s not rocket science. In fact, it’s pretty basic…and I think that’s what makes it so difficult to do day in and day out.

The second character flaw that contributed to my inability to salvage my aforementioned job  is also pretty basic, and it ties in closely with the first:

I was not square with the Lord.

Over the years, I have found that if my life is not in order,  I will not feel peace. If I do not feel peace, my thoughts resemble a tornado. They are chaotic, short, and stormy. I also end up feeling a sense of unease and a sort of disconnect from all that is good. This creates negative momentum, and makes choosing correct actions (which usually involve sacrifice) a little bit harder,  and choosing to be selfish (which involves no effort other than indulgence) a little bit easier.

Ever watch football?

Al Pacino got it right in Any Given Sunday:

It’s a game of inches.

Most of the epic battles we see on ESPN are won or lost in those insignificant inches. We don't see most of those hard fraught inches through the tangle of arms and legs and the dust of the chaos near the line. Instead,  we think that the more visible, highly sensationalized  quarterback or star receiver was the uncontested hero of the play. In some instances, they were. In others, we might not have  noticed the efforts of the offensive lineman who gave the quarterback time to throw the ball down field, or the tight end who made a key block that set the play up.

Our focus allowed us to see only the throw and the touchdown and we thought: "Well....you're either  a hero...or your not."

The reality is much more inspiring...and terrifying.

Heroes are forged in the inches.

There are two things in life that I have found bring me into a negative momentum when I am  trying to collect a few of those inches:

1.      Small, almost imperceptible lapses in character

2.      Inattention to repentance once these transgressions occur. 

The reality is that sin hurts. Don't get me wrong - the offenses I tend to brush under the carpet are not of the nature that torment my conscience for any extended period of time. I do not have that much stamina. Instead, I might endure a brief sting of conscience, an “I probably shouldn’t have said/done that”, and the episode is over.

Or is it?

I have found that if I lose enough of these moral inches, my spirit will experience an almost imperceptible shift. Somehow, I end up bending more and more in the wrong direction. While I may not experience the torment of soul Alma the younger did in the Book of Mormon, I inadvertently enact the invisible but powerful law of momentum against myself.

Choosing the right thing the next time will be just a little bit harder.

Choosing the wrong path will be just a bit easier.

It is subtle.

It is silent.

It is insidious.

Yet it is true.

I find that I do much better if I address these moral inches daily with the Lord, or if need be, with the appropriate person(s). This requires a certain measure of diligence, patience and humility, but the result is a restful conscience and a feeling of having the atonement at work in my life.

Ironically, I am struggling with an issue of the heart at the present moment that is getting the better of me.

In dark moments, I hunch my shoulders and tell the Lord he asks too much.

In more enlightened times, I realize that he never asked me to carry the whole load…just to walk one step at a time in the right direction. Sylvester Stallone's famous line from Over the Top - "The world don't meet nobody halfway!" - while true in the secular world, is anything but true in the spiritual world.
 
More fitting is the score for that movie, sung by Kenny Logins:

Meet me halfway....across the sky. 

So what does all of this rambling about momentum  have to do with compartmentalization, and why am I thinking about the topic today?

It didn’t take me long to scroll through the Facebook posts this morning and see that many of my friends are struggling with things that that are largely out of our hands at this moment.

Maybe you are one of the ones celebrating the results of the presidential election.

Maybe you are not.

Either way, my humble take on the situation is thus:

If your hurting, it's OK to lick your wounds.

Then, when you are in a better place, focus on what you CAN do.

Then go do it.

My church's press release this morning was timely:

"We congratulate President Obama on winning a second term as President of the United States.

After a long campaign, this is now a time for Americans to come together. It is a long tradition among Latter-day Saints to pray for our national leaders in our personal prayers and in our congregations. We invite Americans everywhere, whatever their political persuasion, to pray for the President, for his administration and the new Congress as they lead us through difficult and turbulent times. May our national leaders reflect the best in wisdom and judgment as they fulfill the great trust afforded to them by the American people.

We also commend Governor Romney for engaging at the highest level of our democratic process, which, by its nature, demands so much of those who offer themselves for public service. We wish him and his family every success in their future endeavors."

I join my prayers at this time with those of my church and those of other faiths that this will be a time for peace.

Not just for peace in our political world, but, more importantly,  for that individualized peace that comes from above “which surpasses all understanding.”

The peace that will allow each of us, happy or sad, to see beyond the stark lines of our divisions and move forward.

The peace that will allow us to accept and, if necessary, to compartmentalize our thoughts and disappointments so that we are still effective in our own lives.

The peace that reminds us that win, lose or draw, the most important thing any of us can do by the end of today might end up happening underneath our own roofs.... while helping out with the dishes after dinner.