shutter speed

1/8  f/5.6  WB: Auto  ISO 400  60mm

1/640  f/5.6  WB: Auto  ISO 1600  145mm

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.

Aperture

ISO 1600  24mm  f/14  1/15  WB: Tungsten w/ added effects

ISO 3200  200mm  f/5.6  1/60  WB: Tungsten w/ added effects

White Balance and ISO

White Balance: Auto  ISO: 100  5mm  f/2.8  1/30 sec

White Balance: Daylight  ISO: 400  5mm  f/8.0  1/320 sec

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.

influence.

The Spirit is a tricky topic to discuss when it comes to how to recognize it in its infinite forms as it tugs at our unique, completely-diverse heart strings. My Institute teacher this morning said, "The greatest false doctrine we are teaching our Primary children is that the Spirit is felt through a burning in the bosom." It was a harsh statement, but he backed it up with good evidence. To Oliver Cowdery, the Lord said, "...if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you." I'm not going against scripture here, and neither is my Institute teacher, but he went on to say that a burning in the bosom was how Oliver personally felt the Spirit. I've felt the Spirit's influence in that form before, and I know my investigators on the mission did. However, it is not the same for everyone, and we should not rely on finding that one singular feeling to know that the Spirit is present.

II'll be nerdy for a moment and turn to Zelda. There is a legend within the game that three goddesses came from the heavens and formed the earth, the air and the life that dwells therein. These goddesses left their power on the land in the form of the Triforce.

Remember what the names of the three pieces of the Triforce are? Power, Wisdom and Courage. This, to me, summarizes how I have felt the Spirit in my life. I have felt the Spirit as a burning in the bosom; a power that overwhelms the soul to the point of exhaustion. Such was the case in many Priesthood blessings I've been privileged to give. I have also received pure intelligence and wisdom, adding to my understanding of the Atonement and my own purpose in life, through the Spirit. I would like to focus on a particular way I have felt the Spirit's influence in my life that I find very interesting, yet strengthening.

It is a feeling that I have only recently discovered in the last few months, but I know that it is really ONE way I can feel the Spirit. The Spirit gives me courage to make decisions. I wanted to share this because it still astounds me how great the Spirit's influence is in our lives, and how God guides our hearts. Courage was definitely not one of the blessings I would have pointed out at first. Usually, we hear the Holy Ghost gives us comfort and strength, or helps us learn. Those are pretty basic emotions to comprehend. Whenever the Savior said to his saints, "Take courage", I always figured that we had to provide that ourselves, I suppose. It seemed like a more intense usage of the word "hope". However, I know now for myself that God has given me courage through the Spirit, and it is now a spiritual language I can focus on and learn. Let me give a brief example.

I was texting a friend of mine the night before, and I said some things that I was worried might have offended them. I said a short prayer in my room, asking God if I should call my friend and apologize for anything I might have said wrong. The Spirit came on me, and it did feel a bit like a burning in the bosom (to give the physical aspect of the feeling), but what impressed me more was a strong desire to make the call. I immediately received a buck-up-and-do-it attitude. I called my friend, and they were very nice and understanding after I apologized. Honestly, what I had said probably wasn't even a big deal for them, but the call comforted me so much.

I had similar experiences on the mission, looking back on it. I sometimes had the courage to knock on a door on my own volition, or approach someone about the restored gospel. I could say that the Spirit was there to let me know everything was going to be ok, but it was more than that. The Spirit gave me a driving passion to accomplish what I needed to do, regardless of consequence or obstacle. Is that not courage?

This is such a miracle and blessing to me, especially since I'm very shy and don't know how to make small talk very well. I'm not a social philanthropist in any way. I'm pretty reserved in environments and discussions that are foreign to me. But the Spirit helps me overcome that.

Never limit the Spirit to what it SHOULD feel like or what it SHOULD do. In fact, we ought to learn the language of the Spirit for ourselves. Get to know the Spirit. Learn how to recognize the language it speaks to you. God calls each of us using a voice we'll recognize, and he recognizes our voices right back. Do we all pray the same to God? Heavens, no. So also God speaks in ways that we will understand and apply best.