teaching.

Sunday school is one of my favorite parts of church. You go into class, learn from the Bible or the Book of Mormon and hear different life examples from the teacher or fellow students. Maybe even a game or visual representation is involved. There's also the chance that it's simply hearing the teacher speak or everyone reads out of the manual. These are not bad ways that a Sunday school class can be held (except for reading out of the manual, because it can be awfully boring). But today, during my own Sunday school class, I was amazed at how much my teacher lacked to begin class on any good note. I'm not sure if he was able to redeem himself later on because I walked out of the classroom before he even began teaching.

This is the second time I have seen this particular Sunday school teacher begin a class like this. He walks in and calms the class down. He says, "I haven't been here for a while, so I don't know what lesson we're on. But apparently it's Chapter 15." Then he explains, "I'm not going to use the pulpit because I hate speaking, so today is going to be a lot of discussion. I want to hear from you guys." Then finally, to "set up" his "lesson", he asks us to "think of the most worldly possession you want in your life."

That was when I walked out.

Like I said before, this was the second time I heard this particular teacher start a class off this way. The last time it happened must have been a month and a half ago, and I've tried to avoid the teacher since. I didn't choose to go into his class this week. I entered a room with no teacher, and he walked in after. I didn't walk out of the class the first time he made this wonderful introduction, but I probably should have. I talked to my parents about it at home afterwards and they were just as appalled as I was.

This is in no way attacking this teacher's own beliefs or lifestyle. I'm not in any position to judge who he is outside of church, what his dreams are or any of that, because I honestly don't have any clue. I'm not contending against any doctrine or function of the church, either. All I want to point out is how wrong this sort of teaching process is and how it can be done better. I want so badly to ask the guy if he ever served a mission because there are such basic teaching principles that any missionary pick up.

"I haven't been here for a while, so I don't know what lesson we're on." It's ok to not come to church completely prepared for a lesson. You know how many times, as a missionary, I was asked to bear my testimony on the spot, or teach a Sunday school lesson to a dozen people without writing a single note? It happens. And at that point, you can only rely on the Spirit to help you, which it does. But you don't have to go announcing to the world that you are totally unprepared and that the next hour is going to be a bumpy ride of unorganized thoughts. If you appear to know what you're doing, your audience will think you know what you're doing. I'm not saying it's a game of "fake it 'til you make it". I know for myself that anyone that wants to teach the gospel in a spur-of-the-moment situation will be given divine power to do so.

Also, didn't Elder Holland say in a recent conference talk how we shouldn't begin our self-evaluations by pointing the bad things out first? He says "that's like stuffing a turkey through the beak". That blunt phrase (and humorous imagery) really hit me when I first heard it, and I've tried to keep a strong attitude in everything I strive to do, coupled with a meek heart that knows I have many things to improve.

"I'm not going to use the pulpit because I hate speaking, so today is going to be a lot of discussion." Discussion is not bad. The fact that he hates speaking is not bad, either. The church is infamous for calling people to challenging positions, and I'm certain that being a teacher is a challenge for this guy. But does everyone need to know that a) he is in an extremely uncomfortable position for himself and b) he just threw the entire teaching job onto our own backs, and he's expecting us to bear his burden? That phrase alone told me that he didn't care to be there, didn't care what was said, and just expected the Spirit to be found within someone's tear-jerking story at some point. Again, I look in the direction of Elder Holland's message, along with the famous line from Singin' in the Rain, "Dignity. Always dignity."

I'm pretty sure that he was getting a joke out there or something in an attempt to loosen up the class and break the ice, but quite the opposite effect happened. Other than the two infamous teaching sessions, I've sat in his classes a few other times before. There was absolutely no participation from his audience. He asked the class to recount the story of Moses, and I was the only person telling the story (for my personal memory, I want to mention his version of the story of Moses came from the Dreamworks film The Prince of Egypt, which is flawed in multiple ways from the Biblical account). Now, I have a habit it a classroom that I don't like to answer a teacher's question twice in a row so that others may participate and I won't like like a teacher's pet. After I'd answer his question, the next question would be followed by a really awkward silence amongst the ten people sitting there. Anyhow, I hope this illustrates just how uninvolved his teaching audience is even though he makes attempts to break the ice with his distrusting comments at the beginning of class.

"I want you to think of the most worldly possession you want in your life." I think I'm more amazed that he pulled this card in the introduction of another one of his lessons altogether. In fact, it was even worse the first time because it was precluded with reading a chapter out of the Old Testament. Some good, solid, God-driven miracles were happening in that chapter. Then his follow-up question to the chapter was, "what is your favorite movie?" Ok, so it's not the same question, per se, but you'll agree with me that it's basically saying, "now think of something really worldly."

The Spirit was gone in that instant. What is everyone thinking about in the classroom at that moment? Not the gospel. Not about why they're at church, or how they can become more Christlike. With some context, that question can be better, like, "What are some changes we can make in our lives? Are there any movies in our homes we should probably get rid of?" Bam. Implication of Christlike change. "There are some real distractions out in the world today. What are some of the worldly possessions you really desire? What would be something better to invest in or spend more time towards?" You see how a question next to the question can change its meaning so much? But no, this teacher will address the contrast of the two ideas in the middle or towards the end of the lesson, because it keeps you hooked, right? Wrong. It makes you think of worldly things the whole time you sit there as the teacher goes on to read more out of the manual.

*Dismounts soap box* Like I said in the beginning, I don't want to come off as attacking the church or this particular teacher. What I'm trying to address is the teaching method itself, because anyone can make these mistakes. I'm sure I've made them. So I'm not coming away from this thinking, "Man, bishop sure screwed up calling this idiot," because that's God's call. And I'm certain God has a purpose for this man in his calling. What I obtain from this is learning how to be a better teacher. To start off a teaching moment confident, regardless of how prepared you are. To establish that the teacher may guide the class, but everyone can learn from everyone in a respectful way. And last, to always stay on the spiritual side of things and teach to change. Changing is the most important part of this life, and we all have to help each other do it.

I really want to say something to this teacher. I want to help him see what he can do better, but I don't think I have the courage to (or the stature. This guy is one burly dude). I'm afraid, though, that if nothing is done, then nothing will change, and these lessons will become potentially hurtful to other people like they have been to me. That's mostly how I feel. I feel scared. Scared that things won't change.

why.

Life is a big buffet. You go down the line, put things on your plate, and try each little bit out. At times you get back into the line to dish up more of that one casserole you really loved. Other times the jello tastes kinda sour, and you only manage to take a nibble and throw away the rest. You fill up on everything you can, though, because you don't want to regret avoiding a food that could influence your taste buds forever.

This is how life goes. I equate the foods here to being experiences, interests, hobbies and passions. I've been through the buffet line, and I'm content with the "foods" that I've grown to enjoy. I'm not going to list all of my interests and hobbies, of course, but a few that I want to highlight are my affinity for Japanese culture, video games, and other forms of entertainment such as Homestuck, Vocaloid, and table-top gaming.

I really like these things. I love to learn more about them, be involved in them, and sprinkle aspects of each interest into my every day life.

But why?

This is the question I have come to, after finding out what I like and how it has become a staple in my activities each day. Why do I like these things so much? I roll a bunch of dice around and deal "damage" to imaginary monsters. My iPod is full of music sung in a language I can't even understand. I naturally know every button and command on an electronic controller. WHY DO I ENJOY THESE THINGS?

I ask myself this question because I know there are people out there that will ask me the same thing someday. I don't want to give a lame answer like, "Well, I just DO." I want reasons. I want purpose. I've put myself onto this path so that I can understand myself better. Maybe, if I can give purpose to my hobbies and interests, I can develop a better appreciation for the world around me, as well as myself. I wouldn't seem to be jumping on a bandwagon. I'd be myself because I reason to.

purpose.

I figured I would post this because it explains the reason why I began blogging, what it has done for me, and what I hope to achieve with it in the future. I wrote this essay for my writing class at college. Before I begin, though, I just want to say that I know I haven't been doing well as far as updates go. Heck, it's been 3 months. I've been in a limbo where I've had so much that I want to write about, but I didn't want to trouble too many people with those things since they were frankly depressing. This last little while has been difficult more me, but looking back on it (and still climbing out of it), none of it really mattered. I just had to suck it up and find my own way to live. That's the part I'm trying to discover right now. So, with that little "status update" out of the way, here is my essay:

The Beginning of My Words

            Anyone can tell you I’m reserved. That’s no secret. If you observe me for a day, you can tell that I tend to put my headphones in or move my fingers across a game controller. At family gatherings, I listen to all the stories and conversations being shared rather than place myself at the center of them. I tend to be on the outside looking in, watching each person that pops into existence as they walk around a street corner, and then fade from reality once they leave the corner of my eye. Lots of information enters into me through my five senses. I contently bathe in these senses each day and wonder what new memories I will make tomorrow.

            How I really feel, though, is a longing to be included in life. I want to feel the social waters encircle me. I wish I could become a foundation in a group of people rather than a fifth wheel. However, I have a problem. I have trouble with expression. My tongue is a tricky tool that likes to rigidify at times, or I’m altogether too shy to even approach that cute girl I keep seeing in the hallway. All these words that I can only feel go unspoken as I continue to sit by myself, viewing the passersby.

            I have always been a decent writer. Writing, unlike speaking, allows one to take time to create feelings into words. The delete button is handy in taking back a thought before it permanently flutters via sound waves. I pay special notice to grammar and spelling so that I may appear as intelligent as I aspire to be. This, to me, was the only way to open the corked bottle so that my imaginations could be made free in a form that could stand on its own and illustrate life as I saw and experienced it.

            I began blogging in September of 2010. I wanted to put myself into physical form, onto a place where I could be seen and understood by others. My first few posts were very rough. I wasn’t sure how to approach this new medium, so I acted flamboyant and over-the-top to get the attention of my friends. It worked for a little bit, but the content was so vivid it made one’s eyes roll as I was blatantly forcing myself to use this façade. I began to explore different approaches. I finally found a nice niche after my summer semester of English class in 2011.

            The assigned reading for the class was a book called Pilgrim at Willow Creek, a book written very similarly to Walden. It tells of a woman visiting her vacation cabin and writing of her experiences there as she bonded with and grew in her understanding of nature writes it. I quite easily put myself in her shoes since the way she gained material for her stories was by sitting and observing. The way she viewed nature helped me expand my own eyes and perceive things differently. One of my favorite blog entries that I wrote took this approach:

            “I was sitting in sacrament meeting today, close to the wall and by myself. No different from any other Sunday. After the closing prayer, a member of the bishopric stood up and began making some announcements. He asked if there were any new faces in the ward, and wanted them to stand up. I got curious and started looking around the congregation. It wasn't the people standing up that suddenly caught my eye, though; instead, close to that person, was a guy sitting down. Chomping his gum. His mouth was flapping open and closed. In the row behind him, a girl was doing the same thing. My eye started catching all these mouth opening and closing, forming large O shapes. I made this connection: I was in a congregation of goldfish.”

I was able to make observations like this and share them with others through my blogging and the example of brilliant writers like the one that wrote Pilgrim at Willow Creek.

            Many aspects of my personality have not changed. I still remain pretty silent and reserved. I continue to play my games and listen to my music. My senses remain open to receiving new sights, smells and feelings. I have learned, however, how to communicate this new information in a format that makes me comfortable and clear. I’m glad that I began blogging so that I had an outlet through which to be myself and help others see who I am. My grandma, for example, after reading a few of my blog entries, said, “Wow! I didn’t know Matthew had so much to say!”

            Well, the truth is, Grandma, I don’t say much.

            But I can write it.

dump.

I'm sitting here at UVU, nothing to do, and I figure that if I want to stay true to my weekly blog update, I have to take this opportunity. Let's throw some ideas at the wall and see what sticks.

kindled.

Two years is a long time to live a dedicated life to the Lord in the extreme that I did. It was definitely a learning and growing experience to gain the Holy Ghost's guidance and influence at the level and consistency I needed to fulfill my role as a missionary. I won't say that I had the Spirit with me at all times and that it led me to every door and person I approached. In fact, I doubt most missionaries ever achieve that kind of dependence at all times. We're human. It's difficult. I did appreciate, though, the confirming Spirit that what I was doing as I served was right. I know that He was always there to help me along. Always.

finale.

Thank you for all the support you guys have given me these past couple of years. I've made many friends; new ones from college, and renewed ones from living in Utah for 8.5 years.

I love you all.

When I come back, I'll be on a journey for my own rebirth. Think if it as a New Game+. I'm expecting you guys to bring the me you all know and love back, alright? Counting on you guys. Keep me in your thoughts, prayers, and dance parties. Maybe dedicate some ballad to me on occasion.

Well, here I go.

penultimate.

 I AM LEAVING FOR MY MISSION ON OCTOBER 12th

I'm guessing this will be my second-to-last post on here before my mission. I'm leaving a couple loose ends. I haven't finished detailing my adventures in San Diego, nor have I written about the other half of my Hawaii trip. I just don't really have the concentration to do those things right now... I don't have the concentration to do anything, it seems. My life is literally being thrown away as I know it, and I don't know how to react other than shutting down. I don't have the resources or availability to really get started with projects I'd like to do in my life. I'm so ready to start living for once, but I can't do it. White noise is surrounding me, and it's so loud that I try to listen to all of it to pick out what I need to focus on.

postponed.

Over the next few days – or weeks, if it takes that long – I'll be detailing my San Diego trip. To save space and prevent your computers from suddenly moving like slugs in tar, I've separated each day (or few days) across pages that can only be accessed inside the original blog post, adventure. I'll update when new days have been added on Twitter, Facebook and Skype.

On a more serious note, though, I will not be leaving for my mission on August 31st. I'll repeat that.

I WILL NOT BE LEAVING ON MY MISSION ON AUGUST 31st.

To sum it up, my bishop feels I need to study and prepare some more. Which is completely correct. I'll update my new departure date when I know what it is.

Right now, I'm not attending UVU for classes. I'll probably sign up for Institute, though. I still work at Trafalga, and I still play D&D. Life is...mellow.

adventure.

From Tuesday, August 9 to Monday, August 15, I went on a grand adventure to San Diego, California with a car full of strangers that slowly became friends. For the most part, anyway. Any pictures can be clicked on for a larger view, and some language may occur in this post. You've been warned.

Here was the party.

another.

I was walking down the street yesterday, staring at the ground as I normally do, and, again, I found another broken dragonfly laying in the middle of a driveway. This one had moss-green spots instead of blue ones. This dragonfly wasn't whole, like the one I had seen earlier that day; this one had half of a wing torn off, probably by a bird attempting to eat it.

I used the same shoe tactic. This guy cooperated much better than the other one, and seemed to accept the fact it could no longer survive. It clung to my shoe desperately, and I left him close to some bushes where he wouldn't be seen or stepped on.

do-re-mi.

I like to sing. I listen to lots of music, and mostly enjoy the ones that I am able to sing. Sometimes it's not even in English, but as long as it's in my vocal range, I don't mind doo-dooing along.

flit.

Right now, in my writing class, we're reading a book called Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, written by Annie Dillard. It's a nature journal, similar to Thoreau's Walden, but in more modern (and for me, understandable) language. I came into writing class this afternoon, and my usual desk-mate came in a few minutes later and sat next to me. He pulled out his book, flipped through a few pages, and said to me, "I do not like this book." I laughed a bit and asked why, and he told me that it was monotonous.

leek.

Been a while since I posted something. Work and school have kept me busy. But this time, I actually have something to talk about, instead of life's goings on.

Did you know the world has a virtual pop idol? It's a crazy thought, something I didn't expect to happen until maybe 2020, but we have one. Right now. In fact, we have more than one pop idol. We have an entire "family" of them.

From left to right: Meiko, Kaito, Megurine Luka, Hastune Miku, Gakupo, Kagamine Rin, Kagaine Len

almost.

I don't think this will be a particularly long post. I think I'm maybe emotion-dumping on this one? Which I hate to do, because I don't want my blog to be like that at all. School and work have absorbed me into a lifestyle I don't particularly enjoy The move hasn't helped much, either. It's been difficult to tell stories or describe something when I'm constantly on the move. All I can do right now is form opinions on things, which is a really jerky thing for me to do.

So, something good, then: Over the weekend, an anime called AnoHana (That's the nickname. The real name is uber long.), which I talked about before, ended its 11-episode run. It was such an incredible and beautiful story. Great animation style, good characters, and probably the most crying I've ever seen. Not in a bad way, though. Words can't express how amazing this show was to me. I'd just recommend it to anyone that's interested, or even not interested. Everyone, go watch it.

similar.

It's about time for an update, and a life-related one, at that.

First off, I've been listening to this new song (Update: Sony's killing anyone that posts this song. It's called Aoi Shiori by Galileo Gailiei) that's played at the intro of an amazing new anime I've been watching. The title's really long, but the nickname for it is AnoHana. The series starts off with a kid that hasn't gone to school for an entire semester. Going into his past, he used to have four other friends, and they formed a small club called the Super Peace Busters. One day, a girl in the group, Menma, dies in a river as the club gets together. From then on, the club slowly disbanded, and everybody grew up separately. From where we pick up in the story, the main character, Jintan, starts seeing Menma's ghost. She looks like she had grown up just as much as all the other members of the Super Peace Busters. Menma remembers that she wanted a certain wish granted by Jintan on the day she died, but she can't remember what it is. Jintan's job is to find out Menma's wish and help grant it. Over the course of his efforts, he reunites with his former friends. Many tears are shed because Menma is still around, reminding everyone of the pain they still feel from that day she died.

kickin'.

It's been a week since my last post, so I feel like it's about update time.

It feels like there's something I've been wanting to talk about today, but nothing's coming to mind, so I'll go with a subject I thought up a couple days ago that I had no time to talk about until now.

I think a big part of being a youth (or youthful) is to go on a few big adventures in your life. A big adventure, to me, is going to a large setting that is unique to your normal lifestyle with some comrades. Your parents aren't there. Maybe a couple of siblings, depending on your relationship. Best case scenario, go with some mere acquaintances. These big adventures are a great way to discover more about yourself, as well as develop great friendships with others. A couple of adult guides are a must, because we are merely youths, and can't get by doing everything by ourselves in the world. We're still knowing simply how to exist in it, let alone mold it into what we want. Anyway, these big adventures have been incredible points in my life.

tangents.

My blog – no, more like my life – has been incredibly low on the social side of things. For the blog, I haven't been receiving any feedback on it, online or otherwise, so it's felt like I've been talking to air for the past month or so. But that's simply a blog, and I don't feel like it's completely important to check up every day. They're simply thoughts, after all. Thoughts of a teenager keeping a record of his small thinks. However, in my everyday life, I feel like everyone's drifting away again. I say again, because the times this has happened before is after I've moved. Only this time, I've been in the same exact place I have been for the past year. Even when I did this last move, I still had friends and such to talk to daily simply because I moved a mere 10 minutes south. But now...

putrid.

So I was working the afternoon shift at Trafalga yesterday. 3 to 11 PM. I was working with my good buddy, Corbin. A family of 3 consisting of a well-built, older, mustached man, his "son" (I think) dressed in a mock police outfit, and another tall "son" (again, not sure) in a blue-and-white striped polo came out to the go-kart track. The latter two gentlemen were mentally handicapped, each in different ways. The blue-and-white striped guy was a bit physically handicapped. There's your setup.

scale.

Just a quick thought I've wanted to put down somewhere.

I work at the Trafalga in Orem. I say that again because people keep asking me where I work, and it's getting annoying. Anyway, as I work there, I've noticed a great amount of people coming and going, all on different levels of the maturity spectrum. It goes something like this:

muddled.

Today, I have so many different thoughts that I want to convey all at the same time. This could easily be done by creating several individual posts, since each thought is so individual from the other, but that could create some confusion. Instead, I'll split this single post into several sections. That should make it work out.