Tchaikovsky, The 6th

In 1893 Pytor Ilyich Tchaikovsky finished his last symphony.

Many have called it his best.

     For me, I was entranced the first time I heard this, from the mournful and passionate first movement to the final fading of the last, it captured my thoughts and feelings and I felt taken away into Tchaikovsky's world of difficulties and beauties. Though I always liked classical music, I never ventured past what most know, Beethoven and Vivaldi, and those likes. Of course, Tchaikovsky is an extremely well known composer, and many are actually quite familiar with his works (such as Swan Lake and The Nutcracker) and yet if many today heard his 6th they would not be able to pin it to him, if anyone. Why is that?

     I think it is because it is a true classical piece, one where the composition must have the full attention of the listener. Casual listening does not bring appreciation for the complexities and the struggles and resolutions it brings. Tchaikovsky was a very troubled soul who endured many trials through out his life, and many times he said that if anyone wanted to get to know him and his life, they would be best off by listening to his 6th.
     The first time the beautiful melodies touched me was in the small, humble home of a wonderful and aged member in Deming, New Mexico. It was here that I was first shown the intricacies and the depth of his work, and was in awe by the powerful timing he has perfected. I cannot pretend to know the jargon and the depth of his musical understanding, but I do know and understand the feelings that I get when I study his fantastic work.
     In order to truly give this piece the justice it demands, a proper conductor and orchestra is needed. I have heard many different interpretations from many different conductors, and have constantly been disappointed with only two exceptions, both, naturally being Russian conductors, Evgeny Mravinsky and Valery Gergiev. The latter, Gergiev, is widely considered to be the spiritual successor to Tchaikovsky himself because his conducting style perfectly mimics Tchaikovsky's. Gergiev is also the student of Mravinsky, who comes from the direct line of pupils dating back to Tchaikovsky. Both of these conductors, conducting the Mravinsky (formerly known as the Leningrad) Symphony Orchestra, give the piece the beautiful and properly timed cadence that it deserves.
     Tchaikovsky's life piece is divided into four movements, and all are stunning. The first, and the longest movement, starts with a slow rise of deep strings and enters into a more steady, nearly frantic pace. There is an urgency in the beginning, though it feels nearly underrated. What really gets to me, though, is the melodies that start right after that. It is a romantic, sweepingly dramatic string melody that soars across the score, painting the joy and love that we feel at wonderful times during our lives. Tchaikovsky was always wonderful with melodies, and many modern soundtracks, popular songs, and other music have taken inspiration from them. This, however, made compositions harder to progress, as the melodies where independent, which meant that besides repetition, there wasn't much that could be done with them. However, in this day and age of increasingly quicker satisfactions and repetitious music, this allows Tchaikovsky's work to be more easily listened to by younger audiences.
     Words can only take one so far on describing the emotional journey that music creates for us, so pardon my inability to be able to recreate the experience for you, but also understand that this is much like trying to describe the new musical phenomenon known as Dub-step. It is pretty difficult, if not completely impossible, to be able to effectively conjure up the feelings that the penetrating synthesized bass seems to pound you into the earth, and such is the exact same with the delicate intricacies of an orchestrated romantic era composition.
     Like all of my recent posts, this is an emphasis on his trials as well as victories. Tchaikovsky was able to take the bad, mix it with the good, and create one of the most beautiful musical experiences I have ever heard. We can take the bad in our life, and make it into something beautiful. Without pain, peace and joy don't have the same meaning that make them so special. We just need to make it so. Pain will never leave us in this mortal life, but we can turn it into something beautiful. Overcoming our trials is making something negative become positive. 

It Tolls For Thee

'No Man is an Island'

No man is an island entire of itself;

 every man is a piece of the continent,

 a part of the main; 

if a clod be washed away by the sea,

 Europe is the less, 

as well as if a promontory were,

 as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; 

any man's death diminishes me, 

because I am involved in mankind. 

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

it tolls for thee. 

     Possibly my favorite poem (at least tied with How Did You Die by Edmund Vance Cooke), this wonderful work by John Donne describes very intricately how we are all connected to our surroundings and each other. To me it signifies that we are all a part of each other's experiences here, and we all have the opportunity to leave a positive or negative impact. Without these people in our lives, we would not be the people that we are today.
     The last two lines, however, leave the most impact on me. "...never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
     Whenever I hear about someone passing away, I think of those lines. Last week, it was Robin Williams. This week, it is my Special Olympics hero, David "Hoagie" Ritchie. Hoagie is one of the funniest and happiest people I have ever known, and this mortal world will certainly miss his smile and optimism. He was a simple man, who worked diligently toward his goals. The way he lived his life has helped many, many people be happier, even if only in the smallest and simplest of ways. Because of his departure from this world into the next, we will miss him and his love. We will not be able to leave Wal-Mart with quite the same same smile as before. We will not be able to be cheered up by his Facebook messages, texts, and calls out of the blue that make us laugh and be happy that we where thought of. When David went, a part of us went with him. We will not be the same until we are reunited one day.
     The same is with every single one of us. David helped us feel special because we are special. He understood that we all have our problems and we all face challenges, but he was able to look past that and see us for who we are. He is one of the great earthly examples of what I have come to know Christ by. I can only imagine their reunion with each other (and with Hoagie's father) is one that is so beautiful.

     We will miss you Hoagie, you helped us smile in the simplest and most beautiful of ways, and this world will not be able to replace what it lost when you departed, but we know you are truly in a happier place where love does not die. Your loving family misses you dearly, but they know that they will see you again. God be with you, dear brother, till we meet again!

True Christianity

     Ever since news of Robin William's suicide has struck heated debates and arguments all over social media and the news, I have been reminded of what I attempted to do, and what dear family and friends have done. Most of what I hear on Facebook and on various blogs seems to hurt these thoughts and feelings more than help, and it is not too hard to see why. Many people (especially those who consider themselves Christian or at least spiritual) have taken the exact opposite side of what the mainstream media has done, and while I certainly see the validity of many of their points, I generally feel it is in a rather spiteful and contentious tone.
     Being a "survivor" and knowing a few others, as well as many who have experienced the depths of depression and the gulfs of despair that for some reason suicide seems to temporarily fill, the last thing we need is more hate and hopelessness. Yes, we should avoid suicide and prevent it, and yes, we do always have the choice, whether it feels like it or not, but we do not need to be calloused and heartless about the matter! Think, what would Christ do? Do you really think that He would guilt, shame, and scold those who are suffering depression and considering suicide? Because many people seem to think He would by how they are saying their opinions.
     In fact, I have not even heard Christ's name through out most of these debates, and that is just wrong! He DIED for us, so that we could conquer death. How cool is that? Robin Williams, as well as my uncle, and my friend who all committed suicide, despite it being a poor choice, will live again! Isn't that beautiful? They will not only live again, but they will not suffer the same thoughts and feelings that they did here on earth. Wow! Doesn't that just inspire you? Isn't that what we ought to be talking about, as Christians and believers? Instead of focusing on the sad choice that they did do, and condemning them for it, praise God for His wonderful plan that allows us to live again! Instead of spreading gossip of the gruesome details of his demise, let us look to Christ with a hope, a faith that even though we do not understand how, His plan will work out. We should not celebrate his death, nor anyone's, but we need to remember that there is ALWAYS hope. There is always a choice, but if we do not spread our Savior's Gospel then we are telling everyone they have a choice but with holding what the best one is.
     I believe suicidal thoughts can be overcome, because I believe that our Savior Jesus Christ has conquered them. It may not be immediate. It will likely be an uphill battle, where every inch of ground must be purchased with sweat and tears. There will be times we will feel completely alone, but we are not. That is the true difference between faith and fear, the same events happen, but those with faith have the hope that Christ is behind them, helping us on our way. Just because we have faith does not make the fight easier, it simply helps us see the worth of it. One of my favorite quotes of all time is someone saying "I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it."
     Those who are depressed and feeling the inky black pits of hell, you are not alone. You have many who love and care for you. I promise, MANY. You are a worthwhile human being that can contribute to society and help people out. You can touch hearts and make smiles out of people that NO ONE ELSE can. Suicide will not take away your pain, it will merely transfer it to those who love you, which as I said before, are many. Pray, my dear friend, pray that you might be able to see that this struggle is worthwhile. Pray that you might understand more clearly your Heavenly Father's plan for you, that you might see that there is a Christ who has overcome all things, especially death. He loves you.  I know this because I have felt it.
     I pointed a Smith and Wesson Model 19 .357 magnum revolver at myself with intent pull that trigger. I was going to end it all. I was done, there seemed nothing left to me and my worth. It seemed that I had exhausted all that I thought I was good for, and so ending it seemed to be the next logical step. But as I held that gun to my head, something happened. There was no vision, not even a warmth or a feeling, just the feeling of killing myself was gone. It has been a rough battle since, and I have slid down hill many times. It feels like a never-ending circle of fighting depression and succumbing to it. It is tough, and I can only imagine how those who have it worse feel, but I also know that one day this will not be a problem anymore. That day may not very well come until the next life, but I know it, and I could not have survived this long without it.

     To those who are considering suicide, remember there are other options. Always. People really do care about you more than you think, and there are many tools to help you, both spiritual and physical. Please do not be afraid to ask for the help you need. It is scary, and really quite nerve racking, but it is worth it, I promise.

Here is a link to the suicide prevention website. it has people who can help you.
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Here is a link to some folks who would love to hear your story and tell you how much God loves you and what His plan for you is:

http://www.mormon.org/chat

     And finally, to those who have friends or family who are struggling with these thoughts and feelings, you can help. Do not police or pamper them, but continue being a friend. Do not pry them open, but listen when they talk to you about it. Listening is probably the most helpful thing you can do, and do not judge them. Everyone is different, and getting used to the situation will take time and some trial and error, but never be afraid to tell them how much they mean to you. Even if/when you get uncomfortable when they start talking about their feelings, continue to listen, and only give advice if they ask you. Refer them to help. Love them. You have a beautiful ability to be a true friend. Do not waste this opportunity, it may have fatal consequences. Remember you are loved, and trusted.

     Remember that we are all in this together. Lets stop with the hate and the spite, there is enough of that around without us helping it. Let us be true Christians to one another, and helping one another get through our various and complex issues.

Validation

     It has been about four and a half months since I stepped foot off of that plane from Tucson, Arizona. The events swirl around my head constantly, consistently reminding me of my faults and my doubts. Like everyone's unique trials, it gets old, and starts to erode your confidence and self image if left unchecked. My trials are not more special or less special that anyone else's in the world, and I am constantly reminded of that. The fact I attempted suicide does not make my trials more than the girl down the street who has never known her father, the old man sitting across from me who just lost his beloved wife, or the teenager who struggles with her self image. Nor does it make them any less.

     When I was first diagnosed with depression on the mission, it really bugged me. I had grown up in a wonderful family, who loved me dearly. I never really had many issues, and never lacked for love. My companion at the time, meanwhile, had his family torn apart in a messy divorce, and was constantly having to put up with them fighting and back stabbing one another. It was a huge trial, and one day I snapped, breaking down because I did not have any reason to be so sad all the time, and that my life was easy, there was simply no warrant for these feelings! My companion wisely told me right there to stop comparing.

     "To compare, my friend, is to despair." He told me. "What you are going through, I could never go through and come out alive," he then said, "and I firmly believe the opposite is true as well."

     What happened then, and has happened many times since, has been the realization that we all have our own struggles, and that we all have the same access to have them lifted. We go through tough things, maybe not for someone else, but for us, they are tough.

     Pat yourself on the back for making it this far. You are still alive, you can still smile, and you have such a beautiful smile. You would be making such a mistake if you did not share such a truly magnificent smile. You can help others by being happy. You can make their burdens seem lighter by just being you. Even though you are so sad at times, even though you want to quit and run away, or end it all, or whatever, you can still help people, and you really can still smile through those tears of yours. It may not seem possible, but it really is.

     Let this video demonstrate what I cannot effectively say. This is a beautiful piece made by Kurt Kuenne. For fear of stealing any of its thunder, please watch this short if you are ever feeling down or out.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao&feature=youtu.be

Go validate someone, and find yourself being validated by doing so.

Midnight

     The sun started to set on the expansive New Mexico sky, burning the calm shades of blue into deep purples, reds, and oranges. It was the end of summer, a long, tiring summer full of work and with little to show for it. I was ready to finally go about this work the way I had imagined it, and to be able to go forward and help fix myself. I had a long journey ahead of me, and I was not prepared to face my worst enemy yet.

     I had just gotten officially diagnosed with depression. I think I have always had it, but as soon as I got on the plane to Arizona I think it really snapped, and I started to spiral downward in a rate and time that was unprecedented. When I was sent to New Mexico it only dug deeper and got bigger, consuming what little I had left of any courage or care. I finally felt alone, perfectly and completely alone.
      And yet I was not alone. Far from it, I had a companion who cared deeply for me and wanted to help, who wanted to see a change in myself as well as the area, and he worked hard to help out. When finally I decided I needed help, it was him that was there for me. After my first visit with the psychiatrist, I came out of the office hugging him telling him "It's legit! I am depressed!"
     Two weeks later, that support left, and was replaced by an Elder who did not understand, nor did he care to understand the suffering I was going through. We fought, and I was blamed for a lot. We tried to make things work, and in our eyes the other was always wrong for everything. It hurt. We disagreed on so many different parts of even basic and fundamental parts of our religion and beliefs. My nametag had almost lost all of its significance because my worst enemy put the same one on every day. I did not want anything to do with that hurt and pain, I had no anticipation to be a part of the same movement that so much hatred came from.


     As the sun started to sneak behind the Florida Mountains, I found myself in the church parking lot, confused, alone, and tired. I was in our crummy little Jeep Compass, waiting for my companion to stop talking to the sisters so we could go home and I could try to cry myself to sleep. I once tried to talk with them, but it was increasingly apparent that he was usually talking about me, and did not want me to hear it, so I stayed in the car, and waited for him to finish up. They started to laugh, and bitter tears forced their way unwillingly out of me. Nothing seemed to work, and my body seemed to not repress any longer the loneliness that failed me. The sun ominously and dramatically finished its retreat into the mountain range as rage started to heat, simmer, and finally boil inside of me. I did not, could not, and should not have to endure this.
     I honestly do not remember much else of that night. It was a blur of drunken hatred. We went home and in the middle of the night I was still wide awake from the explosiveness of my rage. I walked to our little porch and sat down with a cup of hot cocoa, taking in the chilly shadows of Deming without a sun. The sounds of sirens occasionally echoed off of the otherwise quiet surroundings, and rang in my soul. In front of me laid a cold desert community in which I was visitor, a casual observer for only a few months, someone who they knew would be replaced in only a matter of time. Behind me slept another human being who could not and would not connect with me, and refused to help in any way. Everywhere was merely indifferent to me or hated me, and I couldn't tell which one hurt more. Night surrounded me, the inky black shadows started to engulf me. Not even the hot cocoa could warm that cold void that was realized inside of me. I drained the cup and burst into pitiful tears, not sure why I was feeling so alone. My life was supposed to be awesome! Sure I am not best friends with my companion, and sure I am feeling a little bit of displacement, but I have a loving family and friends who support me, and I have a testimony of Jesus Christ and His love for me... Why then, why was I feeling so... so alone? Why was my head giving me such vile thoughts about myself and others, why was I so depressed? Why couldn't I just get happier?!

 

 

The night had to grow a little darker yet before the sun would rise. The endurance test was not yet completed.

You Can Change The World

You Can Change The World

Written by Erika Kofoed, rhymed by J. Mahlon Allred

First off, I pray as you read this poem

That you will not make these principles foreign

Please, just open up your mind and heart

So you can better play your divine part

Each one of us can reach out and give 

A piece of our soul so another may live

And though our paths will intertwine

Our perspective's unique, a beauty divine

Each one of us may aid one another

From a bleak day to one full of color

To love is an absolute must

Without it who can we trust?

You see, I'm living by a new code

One that gives a far more rewarding load

It goes: "I'm better than that!"

I promise you, it's where it's at

We could make others recoil and shrink

To make us bigger, or so we may think 

Or instead we can resolve and decide

To speak of love, the heart's deep confide

Some days we need a hug and a smile

To help us remember we are worthwhile

Why not then go to others and give out

The very love we couldn't live without?

This leads us to missionary work

A divine duty none should shirk

Though another a better job may do

No other can touch a heart like you

See, you are you, a person unique

And you now hold what another still seeks

As you give, your soul will start a chain

To destroy the hate and sadness to drain

Which reminds me of a film I saw that stuck with me

That serves as an example of who we can be

It starts with the wishes of a man who passed on

Who wanted a letter mailed out that dawn

The recipient of the letter this man did not know

And where frustrated to get an object of a sum very low

The woman was given a seashell, and set it aside

And began to read what this man had to confide

It goes "Hello Mrs. Jones, I want to give back your light. 

It sounds strange, but it starts after my wife and I had a fight. 

This argument was awful, hateful poison was spoken

Defeated and angry I left her no token

I walked to the beach, discouraged and done

When I saw you, a newly wed couple, happy and young

Walking with smiles, holding hand in hand

Your husband gave you a seashell from the beach sand

Happily walking away, this shell you dropped back

I saw your exuberant love, something I did lack

Desiring what you two had, and wanting to forgive

I bought my dear wife some flowers, so our broken love could yet love

At first she refused, and shoo'd me away

But with a gentle push she accepted, I'm thankful to this day

And after many years later we together went through

I just wanted to thank you, and hope that you knew."

As she read the last words a tear dropped on the letter

She picked up the phone, knowing she could do better

"Hello my dear estranged husband, before we bid farewell,

There is one last bit of love I absolutely need to tell."

I challenge you friends, that as we go on

Even all around the world, don't forget the picture I've drawn

Whatever you do, what adventures you embrace

Remember those around you, and put a smile on their face!

And as you do this, the best example you can,

Your life will fill with joy, your heart will understand

Though a times you may ask "how can I make a difference in a sea of others?"

Remember you are you, and are like no other

Alas, I cannot write forever, my words must now end

But they will not die if your love you do send

We are all of God's children, we can all share His light

By giving our love we increase our might

Dusk Pt. 1

Dusk.

The time when the sun fades from the sky, and night takes reign. The time when there seems to be light, and yet everything is covered in shadows and darkness, hiding their true identities. A time of confusion. A time of change.

 

     It was not everyday that I woke up with bitterness in my head. It was not common for me to get from my bed more tired than I got in it, with less energy than if I had stayed up all night. It was not everyday that I had hatred in my very soul from my sorrows. But that dusk came for me, and I started to realize all too late that I was being engulfed in the very pain that I was trying to help others from. I was falling into the very darkness that I was warning others of literally all day.

     Can you spell hypocrite? I sure felt like one. I felt that I could not give to others what I myself was lacking, and though there was light and hope, it seemed to not be able to reach anything that was immediately important to me. It merely lighted the horizon, and kept the details veiled with inky, thick darkness. I was alone, and alone in the dark.

     I tried many of the remedies I had prescribed. I read the scriptures, said my prayers, tried to find peace with those who had already found some. Nothing seemed to light up the darkness though, nothing could penetrate the living shadows that covered what I so desperately needed. Waking up was a chore, and putting on my nametag, which I had fought to wear in the first place, became a weighted and almost sad affair. I felt like a fake.

     That was only the beginning as well. There would be even more struggles, my sun would seem to set all together, and I for a while lost almost all hope.

I want to emphasize the word "almost" in the last sentence.

 

     This was when life gave me lemons, and I was eating them raw and plain. This was before I started to figure out the sugar in life... Vital, it started to dawn on me, that I needed something, and something quick, to figure this out.

 

This is my conversion story, wrapped up in a four series part, each labeled as different part of the day/night cycle. The events are mostly in chronological order, and reflect some of my many personal moments that have helped me understand who I am and what I want to be. It contains some of my fears and conquers, my hatred and finding love. This is my story. This is my life.