Emotional Manipulation: Well known in the Ancient World

In Aeschylus’ day no dramatic music score existed to help raise the emotions of the audience. No digitized special effects could add flavor and appeal, or agitate his audience, transforming them at gut level. The entire effect rested upon three things, the accounts of the story, hideous masks, and especially the third: the eerie chorus, which furnished the necessary foreboding, forewarning, and foreshadowing of the impending doom that awaited the household of Agamemnon.  The choral lines were the special effects, which set the mood and tone of the ancient plays in the Oresteia. They give us a backdrop for a powerful emotional experience.

The choral lines throughout alluded to the several murders of Atreus’ household; first the murder of Thyestes’ children by Atreus, Agamemnon’s father; then, in order to have favorable winds for his journey to the Trojan war, Agamemnon sacrifices his daughter Iphigenia; followed by the murder of the recently returned victorious Agamemnon by his wife Clytemnestra and her lover, Aegisthus; and now Orestes, Agamemnon’s exiled son, who is about to murder his mother and Aegisthus. Clearly, the chorus is setting the mood for a never-ending evil and generational destruction. The audience feels agitated, anxious, and apprehensive.

In the following passage from the Libation Bearers, the chorus cuts through the nonsense and heralds the ominous cloud of impending doom upon Orestes. Notice the mood depicted by the descriptions of blood so thick, “caked and hard,” and “the fostering ground,” which stems from the constant familial desire to atone one man’s murder with another man’s murder; and how this infectious desire “boils within” each of their hearts; and finally how each successive murder brings on new evil or “new blood guilt,” with no cure in sight.

“Through too much glut of blood drunk by our fostering ground

the vengeful gore is caked and hard, will not drain through.

The deep-run ruin carries away

the man of guilt. Swarming infection boils within.

“For one who assaults the bride’s pure bed, there is no cure.

All the world’s waters running in a single drift

may try to wash blood from the hand

of the stained man; they only bring new blood guilt on.”[1]

Each evil act is spurred on by a feeling of atoning for the evil of the previous and yet, with each murder, the evil runs thicker and deeper, never to be resolved, or so the drama leads the audience to believe. This persistent evil spell brought on by continual devious deeds sets the tone and, doubtless, causes a deep desire within the heart of the patron to think twice about his or her own decisions.

In this one example of the poetic chorus, we see how the stage is set for an emotional impact and psychological outcome. Thus, is the purpose of the chorus: to deliver the special effects and nuances that set the mood and tone of the Oresteia and cause the audience to participate in the story and feel the emotions of cause and effect.

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[1] Aeschylus, The Libation Bearers, Edited by David Grene and Richmond Lattimore (University of Chicago Press, 2013), pg. 83-84, lines 71-74

Is Beauty Truly in the Eye of the Beholder?

I do not know if beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It suggests a democratic idea of bringing down the heavenly ideal to earthly reality. The phrase was coined by Irish novelist, Margaret Wolfe Hungerford in the nineteenth century during the Romantic period, which favored a new moral relativism. Followers of Karl Marx believed the common man was morally superior to the rich man and that the criminal was spiritually superior to the law-abiding citizen. Later, Friedrich Nietzsche influenced a degraded world. Religion and belief in God declined and set the stage for a society of disillusionment and decay. It is no wonder that the true meaning of Beauty was lost upon the world at this time. The person who perceived beauty in Marcel DuChamp's’ 1917 Urinal knew little of the meaning of Beauty. He regarded anything he fancied as some great piece of art. If something pleased him, it must be beautiful, he thought. This idea that beauty is relative to a person’s taste is a misuse and abuse of the true meaning of Beauty. Not surprisingly, the current dictionary caters to this idea of moral relativism; beauty is modernly defined as “a combination of qualities that pleases the intellect or moral sense.”[1] Conversely, what happens when we do not have moral sense? Or, what if our intellect has lost the capacity to reason because we have no standard of what is right or wrong from our lack of moral sense? Before we answer this, let us consult some of the great philosophers on Beauty.

Plato would not have approved of the phrase in question. For him, Beauty indicated an eternal value; Beauty was an unchanging form; universal and consistent. If Man A thought a woman was beautiful, but Man B did not, one would have to be right and one wrong. According to Plato, Man A understood the natural form of Beauty and recognized it in the woman, whereas Man B had not the understanding nor could he recognize it in its true form. English philosopher, Roger Scruton wrote, “If there are people who are indifferent to beauty, then it is surely because they do not perceive it.”[2] Beauty could be described as an ideal akin to virtue. In the Aristotelian sense, virtue meant something that was in its most pristine condition and achieved the purpose for which it was created.

Kant was interested in both Beauty and the Sublime in not only art, but in nature. Like Hutcheson and Hume, he believed Beauty and Sublimity were not attributes of objects, but the means in which we respond to objects. Kant wrote not about the Form of Beauty, as did Plato, but about taste. He wrote, “beauty is not a concept of the object.”[3] This focus on the subjective, Kant carefully stated, was not a function of individual or personal taste. Therefore, he also, did not believe that “beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” Unlike Kant, but also opposed to the phrase, St. Augustine believed that Beauty was an attribute of God and any observer could receive it unto himself by Divinity. He believed that Beauty was manifested through order and proportion.

I believe Beauty is a Truth. And what is Truth, you ask? Truth is something that is always available, always accurate, always genuine and authentic. Truth never changes. Truth means the Sun will appear in the morning and disappear at night; Truth means the seedling will grow into a plant and that a child will grow into an adult.

The poet, John Keats wrote, “Truth is Beauty, Beauty truth.” A student of the liberal arts is on a quest to find the Good, the True and the Beautiful. The three words are inseparable and form the foundation of all goodness in heaven and on earth. Each have a part in the power to move individuals and societies toward a higher good. C.S. Lewis describes this power. “We do not want merely to see beauty... we want something else which can hardly be put into words- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. That is why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses, and nymphs and elves.”[4] I have felt of the power of this Beauty as I have stood on high mountains looking down, with awe, into lush valleys; I have experienced it from a balcony gazing into a clear blue lake or feasting my eyes on La Pieta in Rome or Bernini’s David in the Borghese Museum. I have observed men and women taken in by the power of Beauty in the same manner. A liberal mind recognizes truth more and more as they are exposed to it. Beauty is a humbling experience. Beauty is Truth.

My husband and I recently moved to a different state and we were fortunate to find a house near a dear old friend, who happens to be an interior decorator by trade. She knew we had only four days before we would have a large gathering at our house and graciously lent her expertise to beautify and get our house in order. As the movers brought in each large piece, she carefully arranged it just right. Soon, the paintings and portraits were unwrapped, whereupon my talented aunt and friend consulted together and placed the art in beautiful arrangements on our walls. Our home looked remarkable and more beautiful than any of our previous homes had been. Even more astounding have been the compliments we receive continually from our friends and neighbors. My friend understands and perceives beauty. Her mind and heart have been trained. There is no question that Beauty follows universal laws. We may not yet understand those laws fully, but we feel them when we are surrounded by them.

In this paper, I have attempted to make a case for Beauty. Because Beauty is Truth and we are students of Truth, we must cultivate a moral sense for the Good, the True and the Beautiful, if we are ever going to perceive True Beauty in anything. As for the phrase above, it is not beauty that is in the eye of the beholder. It is the ability to see Beauty and that ability must be within the beholder in order to sense Truth. This ability is trained through the Liberal Arts and practiced by the Virtuous and sanctioned by God. Lewis says, ”Beauty is not democratic -- she reveals herself more to the few than to the many”[5] Liberal minds are developed through constant exposure to Beauty. When there is a dearth of true beauty, we are in danger of losing the meaning of life. “Beauty matters,” writes Roger Scruton, “that it is not just a subjective thing, but a universal need of human beings. If we ignore this need we find ourselves in a spiritual desert.”[6] Dostoevsky said, “Beauty will save the world.” Let us save the world by cultivating Beauty, by molding ourselves to Beauty, rather than molding Beauty to ourselves.

[1] Merriam-Webster Dictionary
[2] Roger Scruton, Beauty, Oxford University Press, (2011)
[3] Immanuel Kant, Critique of the Power of Judgment, Cambridge University Press, Jan 1, 2000
[4] C.S. Lewis, “Transposition and Other Addresses” (1949)
[5] C.S. Lewis, "Democratic Education" in his "Notes on the Way" from Time and Tide, vol. XXV (29 April 1944), pp. 369-70
[6] Roger Scruton, Beauty

Sabbath Day Observance

This week, I had an accident with my phone. It accidentally fell in some water. I grabbed it as fast as I could and dried it off. Dave put it into a container of rice all night and I went to bed with great hopes that it would be okay the next day. 

In the morning, I retrieved my phone from the rice and it seemed to turn on just fine, but it started to act up soon after. The audio function, Siri, kept trying to hear messages from me and to respond. And it would not go back to the Home screen, no matter what I did. I prayed and prayed for help. This device is truly a huge part of my life for the same reasons you use a calendar, bank, journal, scriptures, device to communicate to your family and friends, etc.  While praying, I had the distinct feeling that everything would be okay, so I clung to that feeling with all my heart. 

I got down on my knees and asked the Lord what I needed to learn from this experience and I waited and listened, but no answer came just yet. 

Dave came in from exercising and began to work with it, but the noise and the implication that I might lose it, was bothering me so much that I contemplated leaving our room to continue with my task in another room. 

 Suddenly, a small voice came to me to trust what Dave was doing. I thought this might mean that he was going to fix it. I put my trust in this thought. But after some time he laid it down and said that the Home Button is the only thing that was not working. I let that sink in and I pondered it. Some thoughts started forming in my mind. “The Home Button” does not work. The quote, “No amount of success can compensate for failure in the Home,” came to me and I pondered even more. Was this my answer for knowing what I needed to learn from this experience? I pondered some more.

When our Home is not working, as it should, it affects every aspect of our lives. This lesson hit me right where it hurt the most. I have allowed us to move out of a spiritual center for reasons you may understand with our busy circumstance (two girls to prepare to leave for the MTC, a wedding, a new grand baby soon to be born and my parents’ 50^th to plan and carry out. I have been allowing poor behavior from all of us, including me, for the last 6 weeks, which has been forming a habit that has grown and strengthened. I grow weary and I react poorly each day. I am realizing that I need to focus on my own “home button” right now and get things in order so that we can have a successful home, which in turn, allows us to be successful outside the home.

I would like to focus on one aspect of our “home buttons” and that is Sabbath Day Observance. If you will, put all your previous perceptions away. Let us clear our minds of those preconceptions and follow the counsel in D&C 136:32 “Let him that is ignorant learn wisdom by humbling himself.”

We are commanded to “observe the Sabbath day, and keep it holy” (Mosiah 18:23).

To keep it holy means to dedicate or consecrate all we do to the Lord. Most of our lives we have talked about and written our own lists of things we should do or not do on the Sabbath day for the purpose of keeping it holy. However, this is a happy day for all of us. We can throw those lists away. They are limiting and restrict us from truly keeping the Sabbath Day Holy.

In the recent General Authority training, Elder Nelson admitted that he threw his lists out long ago when he came across these two scriptures from the Old Testament. Listen for the repeated word “sign” in both and ponder what it might mean for you.

Exodus 31:13 “Verily my Sabbaths ye shall keep: for it is a sign between me and you throughout your generations; that ye may know that I am the Lord that doth sanctify you.”

Ezekiel 20:20 “And hallow my Sabbaths; and they shall be a sign between me and you, that ye may know that I am the Lord your God.”

Thus, it is that the Sabbath observance is a literal “Sign” between us and the Lord. And when we add to it the truth taught by John the Beloved, “If ye love me, keep my commandments” then we understand that keeping the Sabbath Day holy is a clear sign to the Lord that we love Him, “with all [our] heart, and with all [our] soul, and with all [our] mind” (Matthew 22:37)

Elder Nelson tells us that “All we have to do is decide what sign we want to give to God.” No more lists. What is the sign we will choose?

The Sabbath, when kept, is a sign of the covenant.

D&C 59:9-10 “That thou mayest more fully keep thyself unspotted from the world, thou shalt go to the house of prayer and offer up thy sacraments upon my holy day; For verily this is a day appointed unto you to rest from your labors, and to pay thy devotions unto the Most High.”

Isaiah 58:13-24 “If thou turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day; and call the Sabbath a delight…not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking thine own words: Then Shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord.”

Did you notice the repeated word “Delight” in that last verse? This is the spirit in which we shall call the Sabbath. It is a delight and we will delight the Lord in the sign we are giving him.

This sign, which is a covenant, is our very own way we can show the Lord how we love him. Think of the ways you serve and love your family members, whether during Christmas time, birthdays or any regular day that you try hard to serve and love them. In this same spirit, the Sabbath is our way to love the Lord and show him our commitment to the covenant we have made with him.

Teaching our Families

We have just been learning about a personal way to keep the Sabbath day, but now let us focus on how to magnify this within our families.

Elder Bednar addressed the same group in the General Authority training; he talked of the importance of families to powerfully teach each other to observe the Sabbath day. He said,

“The Biggest losses [of our members] occur between baptism and receiving the Endowment…of all the things that we know; of all the reasons that contribute to that rupture, first, foremost and most powerful, is weak gospel teaching and modeling in the home. Thus, living the Savior’s Gospel in the home is essential in creating and maintaining multi-generational families.

Now, I am well aware that gospel discussion is not always an exciting prospect with our family members. Hannah hinted at that a little bit, and I can appreciate that. I have been in her place. However, trying always is the difference between weak and powerful gospel teaching and modeling. I testify that prayer and pleading for help in this matter is essential and does work.

Elder Bednar has said that knowledge is what we know in our mind. Understanding is when we take that knowledge down into our heart. Intelligence is when we apply the knowledge and understanding. Usually, in our church classes (primary, Sunday School, Priesthood, Relief Society and YM and YW) we get the knowledge through the lessons, but it is not until we discuss, inquire, teach and learn that we get the understanding in our hearts. It is imperative that we, as parents, grandparents, aunts and Uncles, teachers and so forth, and especially in the home environment, that we have those discussions for the sole purpose of helping that knowledge meet understanding in the heart. Then and only then, can we hope for the intelligent action, or the full application of knowledge and understanding.

Casual discussions with our family members on Sunday, whether at meal time or some other special time, has the power to help that knowledge become an understanding of the heart and then, in each individual life and in their specific circumstances the application of gospel truth will occur.  (Elder Christopherson)

These colloquial discussions and experiences not only help knowledge find understanding and application, but will enrich the teaching and learning in the next week at Church and thus we begin to see the fruits of powerful teaching and modeling in the home.

Brothers and sisters, It is my prayer that we will help our “home buttons” function to their fullest. That we may set aside those limiting lists of to do’s and not to do’s and that we may choose our very own sign that shows our greatest love and desire to keep the covenant with the Lord. That we may continue the dialogue with our children each Sunday to create a powerful teaching and learning aspect in our homes, is my prayer for all of us. In the name of Jesus Christ, who strengthens us, Amen.

Happy Father's Day

My father raised six boys and one girl. I was the girl and the oldest. We grew up in the outdoors and my father taught us to love nature and the grand creations of God. He was a brave man to take all of us on backpacking trips and camping trips—many times alone as the sole adult. 

The thing I remember most of all from those trips is that, going with him, I felt that I could do anything! I could climb the highest mountain, help catch the important fish for our dinners, find wood for our campfires, and so many other salient survival acts. I truly felt amazing, needed and capable. 

I grew up with those wonderful feelings and tried to pass it on to my five daughters and one son. With few exceptions, my husband and I have taken our children every year up to the Uintah's, the White Clouds’, or the Sawtooth's and hopefully we have inspired in them how amazing, needed and important they are as well as inspiring them to love the grand creations of our Heavenly Father. 

Fortunately, we have been blessed to take my father on many of those momentous occasions and now, as he is getting older, he moves a little more slowly. But, I hang back with him to help him feel amazing, needed and capable. It is precious to me that he feels that it is I who needs him to hang back with me and I let him believe it, because, he did so for me when I was young and slow. 

This cycle of sharing beautiful things is only possible as we keep it alive in a multi-generational cycle that spans the life of each of us. We begin as a child needing help and encouragement, then we grow more and more capable just in time to help our aged feel the help and encouragement they gave us when we were young. What a beautiful thing. What a beautiful father I have! What a beautiful life and a beautiful future!

To Be Moral or To Be Intelligent? That is the Question.

It occurred to me that I have never written about an essay that I read at least once each year. The Moral Obligation to Be Intelligent, by John Erskine. It is an essay that aligns and balances me in preparation for a new academic year filled with The Great Books of the Western World. Erskine's premise is that because of our English literary heritage, we suffer from a false assumption that The Good, the True and the Beautiful is not compatible to intelligence and that those who are intelligent must be evil or going towards it. His essay attempts to correct our thinking by strongly implying that intelligence and morality are inseparable.

Our inherited literature is to blame, he says. Shakespeare's King Richard is highly intelligent, but evil, as is Lady MacBeth, Iago and Edmund. On the other hand, "the prizes of life go to such men as Bassanio, or Duke Orsino, or Florizel—men of good conduct and sound character, but of no particular intelligence." In Paradise Lost, Milton places Satan on the highest pedestal of intellect as well as the most evil, of course. But of God and his goodness, Milton places him as "illogical, ...heartless and repressive." Dickens, Fielding, Scott or Thackeray do the same thing. Their good, well-intentioned characters flounder in a pool of careless blunders. It is no wonder that we associate intelligence with mischief or unintelligence with moral character. It is ingrained in us from our very foundation.

This idea begs me to contemplate some of my family members who have decidedly dropped the faith of their upbringing. I hadn't thought of this before writing my blog post today, but now it is clearer to me that it is quite possible my beloved family members believed the qualities set forth in Dickens, Shakespeare, Fielding, etc. without being discriminate and thus could not or cannot add morality to their lives if they wanted to remain intelligent. I digress...

Now, I said that I read this essay yearly to balance and align myself (and now I am even more interested in doing this after realizing the destructive idea in the last paragraph) in preparation to begin a new academic year. This essay helps me to remember that Morality and Intelligence must be inseparable.

One of my mentors, David R. Bednar, writes that intelligence is an action springing forth from the knowledge in the head that is understood in the heart. Wherefore, the action that proceeds from knowledge and understanding is an intelligent action or Intelligence.

My goal in academics is for me to learn and help my children learn all we can to become beautiful people in thought, word and deed. Erskine writes, "Through measureless time [the office of intelligence] has been to make of life an opportunity, to make goodness articulate, and to make virtue a fact." It is my goal again to re-align my knowledge in order to match Godly morality and to become just a little more intelligent this year.

—All quotes above are from the Essay in my Gateway to the Great Books, Volume 10.

The Sale

 (A Short Story)

Through the years the children gathered together at the woman’s home to share mealtimes and memories. With deep affection and fondness, the woman loved to tell stories of her growing up years in Illinois. She and her husband grew up in the same town, fell in love and moved away from all they loved so dear. Nevertheless, they brought with them beautiful family antiques and heirlooms with which to garnish their home and recollect their heritage. The children and grandchildren grew to love and appreciate the family heirlooms as they provided a bond to the deceased and a link to their history and culture.

            Almost every holiday the family would assemble at Charlotte’s house, for that was the woman’s name, and she would gather the grandchildren around her and point to an item and in the most inviting tone, would tell the story about how she obtained it. The wooden kitchen hutch with the special drawers for sugar and flour came from a garage sale over fifty years past and cost only a dollar. It was in excellent condition and served as an entryway piece to display desktop photos, books and little trinkets set upon its upper shelves. There was an antique washstand made of solid oak with perfectly dovetailed drawers and with a raised towel bar. It seemed always the perfect support for any number of beautifully made silk arrangements her husband, George, had given to her for a birthday or anniversary. An old favorite of the young children was an antique coffee tin with an intricate turquoise and brass design. It was shiny and lightweight and if they were careful, Grandma Charlotte would let them turn it about in their hands. It came from her Auntie who married, and had one beautiful baby girl that, to everyone’s dismay, passed away before she turned eight. There were a number of rare and antique picture frames gilded in gold with pictures of great grandparents, great aunts and uncles. One of them framed her favorite US president, Abraham Lincoln. She endeared her offspring to him as she told the stories she learned as a child. Many other items graced her home and many more stories were told over the years.

            Charlotte aged and one day it was time to sell the large house and large yard. It was too much to take care of. It was time to downsize.

            Years ago she had dreamed of retiring to a comfortable home free from debt and surrounding herself with the most important thing in her life—her family. Times were harder now. When the economy turned several years before, she was left with more debt than with which she was comfortable. Insecurity clouded her mind with images of vague financial troubles, clouds of fuzzy mental pictures with jumbled up words like debt, needs, wants, broke, fear. She couldn’t make sense of the words, but knew they meant danger. It wasn’t in her nature to calmly ponder over the facts and put them in order. In times like these she was prone to emotion, not reason.

Her one clear thought was, “The more I can sell of my valuables the more money I could gain.” With a shake of her head she thought, “A garage sale would attract the wrong crowd.” On the other hand an estate sale would bring the highest prices. An estate sale would be just the ticket. Because she had always been thrifty, rather than pay a professional estate sale company, Charlotte chose to take on the management of the estate sale herself. Stubborn was she and nothing seemed to get in the way of her purpose.

When they heard about Charlotte’s plan, the children stood stunned. Some could not brace themselves and slowly turned away for the nearest chair and plopped down upon it. Naturally, they thought the special heirlooms and antiques would be handed down to them and their children. No feeling of greed or selfishness plagued them, but they were wracked with a sort of longing. A yearning burned within them to continue the stories and to admire the beauty and special meaning of each separate artifact. The relics represented a connection and bond to Charlotte and her heritage. Charlotte sensed their reluctance, but in her desperation to recover her financial state she seemed to careen over their objections.

Charlotte furled her brows with incredulity, “Well, in this predicament, wouldn’t you do the same thing?”

In great earnestness, a daughter-in-law pleaded, “Some of these things are dear to me, they mean so much, they epitomize your life and our heritage!”

With renewed strength and confidence, Charlotte raised her eyebrows and lightened up her visage, “You can purchase similar items, Eliza, like that antique washstand, online. And they really aren’t as expensive as you think.”

Moving forward and sitting on the edge of her chair and with a soft strained voice, Eliza declared, “But I feel connected to these pieces!”

Shaking her head and pursing her lips, Charlotte drawled, “Well, you would be surprised at what you can find online now-a-days.”

She droned on in her single-minded purpose while her children listened on. The children sunk back heavily into their chairs in shock, each of their minds grappling, yet failing for the words to express their desires.

Charlotte became grouchy and short—commanding and firm and closed to any suggestions from the others in the room. It was uncommon for her to be like this. Notwithstanding, her breathing quickened. Fear and agitation came out in the form of words, “If I don’t sell these things are you going to support me?” It was the kind of question crafted to barb, not to kindly inquire. The children sensed her stubbornness and, not being accustomed to it, did not know what to think. Hopeless, the children hugged their mother and said their goodbyes and left at the selfsame hour realizing their desires would not be heard.

When it was time to prepare for the sale, the children had softened and in an effort to love and serve, rather than visibly suffer for their loss, they volunteered their strength to move the heavy items and their talents to price and sell the treasures. Their actions proved to be a godsend and Charlotte gracefully and gratefully accepted their offerings.

The first day of the sale went smoothly and for Charlotte, rapidly. For the children who remained to work the cashbox, it went dismally slow. As each item sold they engaged in a terrible inner struggle between loving and respecting their mother and parting with the treasured would-be heirlooms. The bulk of the buyers came that day and the bulk of the small and less important things were sold, plus some of the longed-for antique frames.

The next day was the hardest. Curious faces came in through the door; some were looking for the perfect piece of furniture for their homes and some were just browsing. First went the oaken washstand, then the wooden kitchen hutch with the flour and sugar drawers, then the silk arrangements, then the coffee tin, more antique frames, even the one with the etching of Abraham Lincoln. Happy and satisfied faces went out through the door. What remained that day were many loose and unwanted items that usually sell to a different crowd who would come the last day of sale.

When the sale was over and her children had helped to tidy up the leftover mess, they left and returned to their homes and families. They were satisfied with their attitudes and the help they rendered and satisfied that their mother had had a successful sale. Charlotte thanked them and watched them leave. She watched them get into their cars. She watched as each car drove down the winding avenue until each had disappeared. She stood at the window watching. Suddenly she was bogged down with fatigue. She sat on her favorite wingback in her room and cried. Cried and cried. Why the emotion and tears? She didn’t know. The last time she checked she had earned enough money—what she had hoped for—more than four thousand dollars. Four thousand dollars…four thousand dollars…shouldn’t she be happy? She had reached her goal! Somewhere deep in her mind a thought was bobbing in and out. It was a vague thought, but a strong one. It seemed to vie for attention. The woman closed her eyes and tried to formulate it. She fidgeted in her chair and cried some more. Her neck seemed weakened from the emotion and could hardly hold up her heavy head. She let it drop back onto the lime green wingback. She let her head swing from one side to another in agony. What was happening to her, she wondered. What was she missing? She had what she had hoped for, but why was she in despair? She searched longingly to find solace in the familiar surroundings she had always known, but somehow it seemed empty. Charlotte could not think clearly and she cried herself to sleep.

Meanwhile, each of her children wondered and marveled in their minds as they drove home. Each knew that material things were not as important as the real things—real things being God, family, and friendships. But they also knew that material things are a beautiful way to express the real things. Each one came to the conclusion that day after the sale that they would always try to be cautious of their motives as fallacious motives may crowd out the most important things that constitute the greatest happiness. The sale meant something deep for them that day. The sale meant selling the connections to family, both the living and the dead.

Two Poems

Pondering on Past Mistakes

Pondering on the past mistakes,

I sometimes let the negative thoughts possess me.

They overpower me,

Sending me in a downward spiral.

Groping for goodness to hang on to,

I sift through the negative,

Remembering somehow its fallaciousness,

And distortion from truth.

On occasions, my children talk

Of their memories

And speak only of happy times.

This happy talk arrests me unfailingly.

I wonder how they remember not my errors.

Turn I to the Almighty in question,

“My God,” I implore,

“Dost thou bless me twice?

Once to blind my children from my blunders,

And once more when I am old

to hear from them only the good?” 

Self Mastery

The ancients say I must seek To Kalon,

The highest beauty--moral and physical

To become what I was created to become

and beautifully done.

The medievals assert I must correct my errata’s

My savior declares, "be ye therefore perfect, even as I am"

Who is my god and my director? 

I, effortlessly, follow the hellish foe

Ease, laughter, cloaking my faults

Frenzy fit

Sugar

Down to my Addictions

Away from my Happiness

Justify the profane for humor

Back to the ideal I grope

Oh, Heaven, please hear me!

"The law of the Lord is perfect,

“Converting the soul:

“The testimony of the Lord is sure,

“Making wise the simple."[1]

Hone my Virtues

Soar high to my completed Teleios 

Upwards I fly toward completeness

Jesus, the Rock of my salvation

Complete

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[1] Psalms 19