A Long Night's Journey Into Day


I'm at work. It's 5:30 a.m., not too early for me to be here, but when I have no pressing assignments, it's pretty strange to find myself sitting at a desk that's clear of work, pondering the universe. So I decided to journalize my thoughts, trite though they may be.

This has been, as Spencer W. Kimball once described it, a "silent, sleepless night." I have been up since precisely 12:00 midnight, enjoying some rare mental and spiritual space, knowing somehow I would not get to sleep, but not getting upset or worried about the day ahead. I feel, in a strange way, more energized than usual. My mind feels free, confident, and relaxed. My attitude is one of illogical optimism.

And I know why.

I used to struggle with my sense of disempowerment, frustrated that I hadn't yet solved many of the major issues that have plagued me for what seems to be my entire life. I'm not talking about world hunger or peaceful coexistence. Scratch that - maybe I have been worried too much about coexisting, and not enough about just plain existing.

I guess it was some minor form of hubris, springing from either ignorance or arrogance, that used to make me feel as if I really could solve all my problems quickly and painlessly. But I am learning as I grow older that such things just don't happen that way. Despite what appears to be the ease and success of others' lives, the truth is that none of us can avoid having problems and challenges. To do so would require that we exist in a perpetually neutral state wherein we are, as Lehi put it, "neither to act nor to be acted upon." Such a condition does not exist, at least not on this planet.

So, realizing this fact (probably for the fifty-eighth time, thanks to selective amnesia) I have finally come to accept that I really can't do much about those problems, at least not by myself. So I am learning, albeit a little late, that I would do well to lean a little bit more on the Lord, and a lot less on my own abilities. That doesn't imply that I intend to do less about the problems I encounter. Quite the opposite. I feel much more capable and hopeful knowing I'm not doing it alone.
What a revelation. Well, if not profound, at least it's useful knowledge. I've probably thought of all this many times, but only rarely will such profundities take hold in a mind so cluttered with the weeds of stress, anxiety, and fear (yes, I said fear).

So here I am at work, with nothing to do but write down my thoughts, but in terms of effecting real progress in my life, this rambling monologue may be the best thing I do all day.

Comments

Jay Allen said…
I need to get you a new copy of Psychocybernetics. The copy you gave me years ago has been read over and over and is falling apart. Dr. Maltz talks about this subject a lot.
April 29, 2010 at 12:08:00 AM PDT
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Eternally Grateful, Part III

Image
I tried to find a verse in scripture that typified the life of my son, Benjy. There were many, but I found one that seemed to fit best. In Mosiah 2:17 we read, “I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow being, ye are only in the service of your God.” In August 1972, the Allen and Everts families visited the Lagoon amusement park here in Davis County. My parents, brothers and sister, son Jay and nephew Jeremy all enjoyed the day, despite the summer heat. That is, until about mid-afternoon when my wife, Vickie, who was expecting our second child, was exposed to an unknown allergen—an insect bite or something she ate—which set off a rapid anaphylactic reaction. She quickly went into shock, with signs indicating she was not receiving enough oxygen. It would be well over an hour before Vickie arrived at the emergency room. Rapid treatment by the medical staff quickly reversed the life-threatening
Read more

Eternally Grateful - Part II

Image
I just wanted to share my thoughts, including some of those from the memorial service: It seems like a futile endeavor, sharing thoughts that still race too quickly to capture with words. I feel more deeply with each passing day the loss of Yvonne from my life, and I've started to get very sentimental about all the odds-and-ends that still fill the room. It's apparent that not all of them can stay. The clothes she had hanging in the closet are being donated to charity, but the act of removing them is an emotional struggle. I stare at the increasingly empty space those clothes left behind, and fight back tears. None of these things mattered much when Yvonne was living, but now it's proving difficult to say good-bye. I walk through the house, being reminded of the things that I meant to get done but never quite got to. Now those little chores, which took a back seat to other, more important things, haunt me like missed opportunities, chances I had to show Yvonne I cared. I
Read more

A Prayer and a Promise

Some events force us to acknowledge where we are in life, and how we got here. In the wake of my son Benjy's life-threatening experience I have been doing just that, evaluating and re-evaluating what I’ve been doing with my time on earth. I suppose everyone feels some emptiness when they think of things not said or done, things that would have made a real difference in their lives, and those of others as well. For a parent, such lost opportunities are especially painful to contemplate. We see with time that while we may have done some things very well, there are myriads of things we wish we could revisit, applying the wisdom of experience and age. If we only had those choices to make again. In my past I have been frequently too concerned with my own welfare and the quality of my own life. I once thought I was missing some invaluable life experiences, and in many ways that was true. Poor choices have a way of propagating themselves, and each decision I made too hastily ended up limi
Read more