You Are What You Crave

Cravings are interesting things.

Before living in Seoul, Korea I was not a fan of spicy food.

I had never had any food that remotely prepared me for the experience of eating kimchi.

For those of you who haven’t tried it, try to imagine eating a mixture of sauerkraut, seafood, and really hot peppers. And garlic, lots of garlic.

Try to imagine eating it with everything, all day, every day.

Bascially, to survive in Seoul you need to know that kimchi is not part of the Korean diet, it IS the Korean diet.

Some who visit Seoul claim you can almost be knocked over by the smell of kimchi as soon as you get off the plane. I don’t remember having this experience, but I do remember getting on a subway car around dinnertime and feeling almost suffocated by the strong smell coming from every passenger. I plugged my nose and prayed that the car would go faster. I vowed to avoid the subway from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m.

But there was really no way I could avoid kimchi. During my first week in Seoul I had the opportunity to visit several Korean families and my American friends made it clear to me that if I didn’t want to offend my hosts, I had better eat lots of kimchi, and I had better look like I liked it.

I quickly learned that each family had their own “special” recipe with flavors ranging from mild-and-tangy to tears-and-snot hot.

I tried cucumber kimchi, radish kimchi, white kimchi, old kimchi, fresh kimchi, and pretty soon I was hooked.

In less than two months I went from plugging my nose in the subway to having my mouth start to water as soon as I caught even the faintest whiff of the spicy, fermented concoction. If I am ever pregnant, I hope we live near a Korean market because I am certain that my husband will have to do a kimchi run at least once a week.

My food cravings were forever altered by my time in Seoul, but recently I’ve noticed that this phenomenon isn’t limited to kimchi.

About a month ago I started a new exercise routine.

Everyday Monday through Friday my roommate and I wake up early and go to the gym.

We work out for about 45 minutes and then come home.

It’s been nice to see my body start to tone up.

It’s been nice to go up stairs and be slightly less out of breath than before.

And it’s been nice to not crave salt and sugar so much.

I look at desserts now and a treadmill appears in my mind.

Do I really want to have to do the work to burn that off?

I look at my dinner and I find that I want the healthy stuff. I’m actually craving good carbs, veggies, and fruits. And surprisingly I crave meat less and less.

So what does this mean?

Well the obvious message is that our cravings can change, but lately I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want from life, and I’ve begun to wonder if I haven’t been doing things a little backwards.

For most of my life I’ve been focused on trying to find what I want.

I’ve tried to find the right job, the right man, the right clothes, the right…everything.

But now I think that maybe what I really need to do is to stop trying to find what I want and to teach myself to crave what I need.

I’ve started to look at my everyday actions:

What is my mental diet?

What is on my daily “to do” list?

What relationships are the strongest/weakest?

If my physical cravings are influenced by diet and exercise, wouldn’t it make sense that my mental and emotional cravings (i.e. the desires of my heart) would also be influenced by my daily choices?

Wouldn’t it make sense that the people, places, and things I’m attracted to; the attention and praise that I seek; and all the other sources of my motivation could change depending on what I choose to let into my mind and heart each day?

I suppose the real question is not “What do I want?” but “What do I want to become?”

The real goal is not to find my life, but to choose my life, and to make it easier to choose what is best by teaching myself to crave healthy, good things.
So, what is my real purpose in life?

For me, it’s basically summed up by the following:

I am a daughter of God.

I was sent here to learn and to prove that I would choose good instead of evil.

Fortunately for me, God wants me to succeed, and so he gave me commandments.

In many ways God’s commandments are like diet and exercise.

Just like eating kimchi and going to the gym, living and keeping the commandments can change cravings, too.

I know this from personal (though imperfect) experience.

As I have followed God’s commandments I have felt my desire to serve, love, have patience, pray, study, and work hard increase.

As I have followed God’s commandments I have found my desire to watch a lot of TV, waste time online, or spend too much money start to decrease.

A prophet named Alma once compared this process to planting a seed. He said:

“Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.” (Alma 32:28)

So we see that the gospel of Christ, like kimchi, is an acquired taste. But the benefits go beyond deliciousness. Alma also taught:

“...plant this word in your hearts, and as it beginneth to swell even so nourish it by your faith. And behold, it will become a tree, springing up in you unto everlasting life. And then may God grant unto you that your burdens may be light, through the joy of his Son. And even all this can ye do if ye will.” (Alma 33:23)

All this I can do…if I will.

And so my goal is no longer just to keep the commandments, but to crave them.

To have God’s word become as delicious as my favorite food.

To have “going the extra mile” be a daily part of my exercise routine.

To become what I want to be, and to want to be what I become.

I know my cravings won’t change overnight, but hey, if I can learn to eat kimchi, I’m pretty sure I can learn to do just about anything.

Why Stories Can Make You Stop Being Mean

A few weeks ago I found a TED Talk called “Does Money Make You Mean?” and, I know this may come as a surprise to some of you, but the answer is: yes, money can make you meaner.

Science has proven that Robin Hood was justified. 

You can (and should) watch the entire talk (see link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJ8Kq1wucsk), but here’s a summary of the findings:

In several experiments researchers discovered that rich people (even if they were only “richer” because they had more play money than another player in a game of Monopoly) tended to be ruder and more prideful than poorer people.

Rich people consumed more.

Rich people were more likely to lie, steal, and cheat.

Rich people were less likely to share.

Rich people were less likely to stop so a pedestrian could cross the road.

Astonished? I didn’t think so.

But this talk didn’t just bash on rich people. The speaker made me aware of at least two critical points that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about:

1. We are all rich in some way or another. Though we often focus on how much less we have (or how much less we can do) than others, the truth is, we are all more advantaged in some way than someone else. We are all susceptible to meanness. We are all tempted to lie, steal, and cheat to get ahead.

This thought led me to point number two:

      2. We all need something to help us overcome this tendency to be mean. But what could that be?  

Legislation? Government programs? Electroshock therapy? More prayers?

While any of these solutions might address part of the problem, there is a simple solution that costs almost nothing, and creates a huge difference: stories.

Sound crazy? Too easy?

Maybe. But maybe not.

As I’ve thought about this I’ve asked myself many questions.

Which people have changed the world in significant ways? How did they accomplish so much?

What are major religions and ideologies of the world? How have they lasted so long?

What stories do I know? Are there any specific examples of these stories making a difference? 

I thought of at least one. You’ve probably heard it; it’s the one called “The Good Samaritan.” This story was originally told by a carpenter who lived in poverty most of his life. And yet, almost all people in the world today—even those who don’t believe his story about being the Son of God-- know his story. And there are thousands of people who try to live differently because of his story every day.

Now, to be fair, the TED Talk doesn’t actually mention stories. In fact, I don’t think the speaker ever even says the word “story,” but I believe the same researchers who proved that rich people tend to be meaner also proved that stories could help rich people to be nicer. If you go to about 13:50 in the talk, Paul Piff explains a simple experiment that worked like this: a research team showed test subjects a short video on childhood poverty and then, about an hour later, put the same subject in a situation where they had the chance to help someone else.

The results? After rich people watched the video--after they were reminded of the story of others around them--they were just as likely to serve others as anyone else.

And I find that amazing.

This made me wonder two more things:

1. What stories am I hearing?
2. What stories am I telling?

A lot of the stories I hear are religious. I have been told my entire life to “study the scriptures,” and because I am LDS, that means studying the Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, Pearl of Great Price, and also the words of modern prophets.

But what I now realize is that what I’ve really been asked to do is to allow stories to change me. I've been told to read stories over and over again so that I don’t forget the people around me. 

Incidentally, those scriptures tell me to not only “study the best books…and seek learning” but also to teach others “words of wisdom” (Doctrine and Covenants 109:7). 

So it’s not enough to just hear good stories.

I need to tell good stories, too.

What are these “good stories”?

As an English teacher I know a lot about form, structure, rhetorical strategies, etc., etc., and I believe all of these tools can contribute to effective storytelling. But I also believe that how I say something doesn’t matter much unless what I have to say is linked to truth.

Truths like:

Every person is important.
Every life has purpose.
No one is ever completely alone.
Anyone can make a difference.
Each human’s worth is eternal; it can’t be measured with material stuff.

But do I have publish the stories on a blog or speak at a TED Conference to make a difference? No. Obviously I support blogging and TED Talks (this very post proves that), but I think the most important stories we tell are the ones we tell ourselves.

And I have to admit that I don’t always tell myself good stories.

I don’t always tell myself that I’m important, that my life has purpose, that I’m not alone, that I can make a difference, and that my worth is eternal.

But I’m going to do better.

Today, I’m going to tell myself a good story.

And if I run into you, I’ll try to tell you a good story, too.

And maybe, if we all tell good stories, the whole world can be a little nicer.

Why God Doesn't Deliver Dream Glow Barbies

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”

― Epicurus

In 1985 Mattel came out with Dream Glow Barbie. She wore a Cinderella style pink gown and even had a little pink parasol. Her entire outfit was covered with little white stars that glowed in the dark. In 1986 I was five years old. I was afraid of the dark and thought that this doll was pretty much the coolest nightlight imaginable. I wanted this Barbie. Bad. I remember staring at a picture of the Barbie for days and days, studying each detail of her outfit and accessories, and planning for her debut visit to all of the other Barbies at my house.

I wanted the doll so much that I actually prayed, with all the sincerity of my little girl heart, that God would give me a Dream Glow Barbie.

But He didn’t. My birthday came and went. No Dream Glow Barbie. Christmas came and went. No Dream Glow Barbie.

Years passed, and eventually I forgot all about her.

But just the other night, I happened to be online and saw a picture of the Dream Glow Barbie. She was for sale on eBay for $29.95. My childhood dream was only a click away.

I thought about it. With my current salary I could easily afford it. It could be at my house and in my hands in two days. It would be a gift to the child still inside of me, the child who’d wanted so many things but couldn’t have them because we didn’t have the money.  

But I couldn’t do it. The truth was, I no longer wanted a Dream Glow Barbie. To be honest, the doll looked pretty ridiculous (see sleeves). What would I do with it? Where would I put it? And what about all the other things I would much rather buy with $29.95, like books, camping gear, or even an oil change?

It was in that moment I realized that God had truly answered that fervent, five-year-old girl’s prayer. Over the past 25+ years God had given me all the talents and abilities and opportunities I needed to buy a Dream Glow Barbie. I could have the doll, and I could also have all the candy and other toys I’d wanted. I didn’t even have to wait until my birthday!

But God had also given me something infinitely better than money: time and experience. I had time to learn that some things are worth having, and some things are not. I had time to overcome my fear of the dark. My needs and desires had changed, just as God knew they would.

Because God didn’t give me the Barbie, I feel I understand God’s love for me in a deeper way, and I also have a personal witness of the power of prayer. I know that God does hear every prayer, and that he does care about the desires of my heart.

But God, as a perfect parent, also understands the danger in giving me too much, too soon. His timing is part of his perfect love, and if I trust His timing, I feel assured that even if I don’t get what I want right now, I will ultimately get what is best.

If what I want is not in my best interest (i.e. a Dream Glow Barbie, a big mansion, dating Chris Pine, etc.), then I can be assured that I will be given the experiences I need to understand what really matters and what does not.

In the Bible, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego tell Nebuchadnezzar that they aren’t afraid of his fiery furnace because they know God will deliver them (Daniel 13:17). In the Book of Mormon the prophet Alma teaches his son Shiblon that “as much as ye shall put your trust in God even so much ye shall be delivered” (Alma 38:5). In the Qu’ran, there are several references to God’s ability to rescue and preserve those who pray to Him (Surat Al-‘Anam 6:63).

In fact, I can’t think of a religion that doesn’t teach that God delivers us.

But sometimes I think we get God’s delivery system confused with UPS or FedEx. We get frustrated when our answer doesn’t show up on the doorstep in two days or less.

But God didn’t say He would deliver everything we wanted if we prayed; He only promises to deliver us.

Deliver us not just from pain and afflictions, but also from behaviors that would lead us into bondage. Behaviors like seeking instant gratification over long-term happiness.

Behaviors like giving up hope because our expectations don’t currently match our reality.

Behaviors like becoming a weird hermit lady locked up with a room full of dolls and teddy bears.

Right?

Fortunately, our desires can change, and as they become more and more like our Father’s desires, we will be more and more able to be happy long term and right now. We will come to know that God does love us, and he does hear and answer every one of our prayers.

I know if we trust Him, He will deliver us.

And I’ve noticed that the more I learn about prayer, the less I need to ask Him and the more I want to thank Him.

In fact today, I want to officially thank God for not giving me a Dream Glow Barbie. And I want to especially thank Him for all of the other dreams that have come true because He answers all of my prayers so perfectly.

He knows me; He loves me.

And as I keep praying, I know and love me a little better, too.

As my Muslim friends say, “God is great!”

I couldn’t agree more.

Why I'm Not a Spider (or Why the Name of This Blog Is So Weird)

When I graduated from high school a friend surprised me with a book of poetry: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. Later that summer I opened up the book and was shocked.
Not by the content, but my immediate connection to each line of verse; I didn't know I liked poetry, and the more I read, the more I wanted.
I honestly don't remember studying any Whitman (or any other poet) before this point. This is probably due to my approach to high school studies (find the answer, write it down, move on), and I'm grateful I didn't form any opinions on poetry earlier. Because I didn't read (or don't remember reading) the poems for an assignment, I didn't worry about trying to figure out what they meant. I just let them speak to me. This one became a favorite:

A Noiseless, Patient Spider
By: Walt Whitman

A noiseless patient spider,

I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,

Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,

It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,

Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,

Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,

Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,

Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

There is a lot that could be (and has been) written about this poem. When I first read it, I immediately thought, This is me. I am the spider. 
And who isn't? Who doesn't try sending out hopes, dreams, and thoughts into the world, waiting to see where they will fall and who might pick them up.

But lately I haven't wanted to be the noiseless, patient spider anymore.

In fact I've decided to be an entirely different animal: the loud, impatient dragonfly. 

I don't want to wait for my life to come to me; I want to chase it down, grab it in my jaws, and chomp it down in three big gulps. I want to open my wings once, and keep them open, always ready for the next flight. I want eyes that see--really see--everything. I want to be present in each moment, always remembering that life is short, and I am small.

I know silence is golden. I know patience is a virtue.

But after standing isolated on my little promontory, I'm ready to leave my strings behind.

And so the loud, impatient dragonfly leaves the spider behind and takes flight.