Constructive Thoughts: Loneliness

It has been four years since my father passed away. About six months before that happened, I began suffering from what I now know to be depression. It has waxed and waned during that time, never getting to a point I would call “crippling.”

Until three years ago. At that time I went through a period of unbelievable stress and trials, both personally and professionally, as I started up my own small law firm. At about the same time, I began suffering from some medical issues that, among other things, enhanced my depression and affected my thinking processes, making it take longer--and be more physically exhausting--to make decisions. Coincidentally, a close friend of mine bought out his senior partner about 20 months ago and he learned nothing from my plight: he burned out his adrenal system and has been going through a living hell.

The depression has been growing steadily worse. Some days it is nearly crippling, to the point where it is difficult to get out of bed, shower, get to the office--everything that is temporally important in life.

Constructive Thoughts: What Matters Most

This morning my Facebook page blew up. I am sure your page did as well.

The vitriol I have seen since the concession and victory speeches last night has been staggering.

Actually, no. Saddening is a much better description.

I could weep and wail and gnash teeth about things that happened in various races in various places. I would suspect that any 50% of the people in the country could do the same thing. Some of what happened actually makes me a bit less proud to be an American. Honestly.

But what makes me really regret being an American is the vitriol. Being lumped in with that crowd is embarrassing. Truly. As I have pondered my situation and the situation of my fellow countrymen and women, I was prompted to re-read something. When I did, I felt both hope and humility enter my heart and mind.

I want to share with you the following words, said stronger and more eloquently than I could say them.

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Stresses in our lives come regardless of our circumstances. We must deal with them the best we can. But we should not let them get in the way of what is most important—and what is most important almost always involves the people around us. . . .

Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey, and share our love with friends and family. One day each of us will run out of tomorrows. . . . Our realization of what is most important in life goes hand in hand with gratitude for our blessings. . . .

“For what doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift.” (Doctrine and Covenants 88:33)

 . . .

Despite the changes which come into our lives and with gratitude in our hearts, may we fill our days—as much as we can—with those things which matter most. May we cherish those we hold dear and express our love to them in word and in deed.

In closing, I pray that all of us will reflect gratitude for our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. His glorious gospel provides answers to life’s greatest questions: Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where does my spirit go when I die?

He taught us how to pray. He taught us how to serve. He taught us how to live. His life is a legacy of love. The sick He healed; the downtrodden He lifted; the sinner He saved.

The time came when He stood alone. Some Apostles doubted; one betrayed Him. The Roman soldiers pierced His side. The angry mob took His life. There yet rings from Golgotha’s hill His compassionate words, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34.) . . . Let us follow Him. Let us emulate His example. Let us obey His word. By so doing, we give to Him the divine gift of gratitude.

Brothers and sisters, my sincere prayer is that we may adapt to the changes in our lives, that we may realize what is most important, that we may express our gratitude always and thus find joy in the journey. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

~Thomas S. Monson, Finding Joy In The Journey, Ensign, Nov. 2008. (Emphasis added.)

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That would be my prayer as well, for all of my friends and readers... not just today, but every day, let us pause and consider what matters most in each of our lives and let us express gratitude to He who has given us what we have.

I wish to express my humble gratitude to my Father in Heaven for the many blessings that I have and continue to receive from His hands. I also wish to say "thank you" to my friends, family, and readers for all you have brought and continue to bring to my life.

God bless you all, and God bless the United States of America.

Constructive Thoughts: Hope

My apologies for the delays in posting. I believe that I have been suffering from a form of depression for the past several months. It has steadily getting worse and I have been finding myself with seemingly less to say and less desire to say it. I am working on breaking through, however. Slowly but surely.

That brings me to these thoughts I have been having lately.

We are living in a world where, perhaps more than at any other time, we face daily uncertainty and unrest in every area of our lives. We have brothers and sisters who wake each day filled with despair over finances, employment, their lives, or the lives of loved ones. To these, life seems truly hopeless. The adversary’s influence is rampant and seems unstoppable.

Remember, however, that God is a God of Hope.

True hope is not to be found in the policies or philosophies of Man, no matter how well-meaning they appear. True hope comes, not as the world giveth, but as He giveth: it comes from the doctrines of the Gospel, such as faith in the Lord and obedience to the Commandments.

What better place to find hope than in the House of the Lord? Temple attendance brings many blessings; one such is the glimpse we have of the Eternities that brings us Peace and bolsters our faith and hope. This gift of hope is a sacred gift which is ours for the taking. Through obedience, faith, and temple service, may each of us remember the source of true hope and strive to receive this into our lives.

NaNoWriMo Update: Across the Finish Line

Well, another year, another novel. Yep, that's right. I am done. As of yesterday afternoon I crossed 50,000 words and kept right on sailing. After verifying my word count I wound up with 52,843 total words. Like I mentioned yesterday, it is largely crap; if I were to edit it down, I doubt I would have half as many words. But it is done.

I will be honest: I didn't think I had it in me, not this year.

Now I know I do. Or did. Thank you all for your thoughts and well-wishes you sent my way over the past month, my friends and readers. Thanks for all your words of support. I felt them keenly and they helped immensely. I could not have done it without you.

Most importantly, I could not have done it without the support of my LW and the Horde. They tolerated my long hours staring into space interrupted by frantic typing and breathy mutterings. I am sure at times they were certain I was hearing the " a low, dull, quick sound --much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton," especially when I would "pace...the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury...."*

They no doubt fancied me mad.

I am mad no longer. At least, not like I was, and no more mad than usual.

I am myself again, gentle readers...and ready for a long nap this weekend. Let us all get there in safety and sanity, eh? God bless you all.

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*The Tell-Tale Heart, with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.

NaNoWriMo Update: Home Stretch

This is it. The light at the end of the tunnel is blinding. The finish line looms large. The fat lady is doing her "mi-mi-mi"-style warm-ups.

The end of the month is here.

And with it, the end of NaNoWriMo 2011.

Thank Heavens.

This year was tough. Illness, financial concerns, stress at work, and Horde-related stuff all conspired against me. I think my LW gave in a couple weeks ago. Myself? I've been using every spare minute at home, work, and church jotting down thoughts and then transferring to digital media when I had the chance.

I am almost there. I mean it: as of this moment, I am 615 words away from 50K.

This one surely will not win any awards. I do not think it will ever see the light of day again. It is crap, filled with utter crap. It has every spare mental jot and written tittle that I could muster this past 28 days.

It may be bad, but it is done. Almost. "Will be done" is more accurate, I suppose. In the process, I have learned a lot about myself. I have learned that I have forgotten an awful lot about creative writing in the past eleven months. I have learned that Law School killed more of my imagination and creativity than I supposed, not to mention the actual practice of law and client-relations. I have also learned a lot about my own motivations, my own psyche, and my resilience. I have learned a lot about the weakness of the flesh, too, and how physical ailments can have such a drastic influence on the abilities and functions of one's mental -- and yes -- spiritual self.

In less than 36 hours, it will all be over. I will have won out.

And then I can rest easy for eleven months.

Constructive Thoughts: A Realization

Long-time readers will know that I have a habit of being negative. I am negative about my office, my job, my career, the people that fill the town around me, politics, and so forth.

Today I came to a realization. I had an epiphany.

I am fine.

Sure, my health is a mess and the pain from the past week has resulted in some pretty weird and frightening dreams/hallucinations/phantasmagories. Nothing much has changed in my employment or career and it does not appear likely that anything will.

But still, I am fine.

In fact, I'm better than fine.

Wealth would be great. Fame? Meh, I find that I do not desire it much any more. There is a whole pile of worldly stuff that I once thought (and probably will again) would make my life "better." Perfect health would be a dream beyond a dream.

But you know what?

I already have everything I need or want.

I live in an average-sized house in a clean neighborhood. My yard may be somewhat unkempt and the rabbit cages may need a bit of cleaning. My neighbor's grass may be greener and their rose-bushes more prize-winning. But you know what?

In that house lives a loving wife and beautiful children who clamber over one another to hug and greet me when I stagger in from a long day.

And despite the Horde's clamor -- or maybe, in part, because of it -- my home is a peaceful, quiet refuge from the world.

That house has heat in the winter and cool air in the summer. There is a sound roof, which keeps off the rain and snow. There is sufficient to eat and all within are clothed.

I may not have everything the world says I need or want. I will likely never attain that status.

In truth, however.... I find that I have it all.

And for it all, I am eternally grateful.

Idle Randomness

Two thoughts today, neither one sufficiently complex--at least right now--for their own dedicated posts.

First: the whole Facebook "friend/unfriend" phenomenon.
Second: do I have the right to moderate and "censor" comments on my personal blog?

Discussed below.

First: why should I be made to feel guilty because I "unfriend" you on Facebook? I mean, honestly?

Background: I do not know about you, but my Facebook wall is locked down pretty tightly, restricted only to my friends. I have a friend who has recently decided that our once-mutual faith and belief system is no longer "doing it" for him. He has lost his testimony, is now falling away from the Gospel of Christ and, in so doing, is becoming quite caustic and belligerent about religion in his Facebook posts. I know he thinks it is humor, as do his little circle of like-minded friends that swarm around his anti-Church posts.

For example: "When you are sad, it is most likely because you are actually feeling guilt for something you once did that you forgot but God never did forget and never will. You're going to Hell."

His friends immediatly gather around, some of whom are actually text-laughing like Beavis and Butthead, but all of whom are chuckling like hyenas and making similar comments about spirituality, guilt, the evils of believing in organized religion and Christ, not to mention how ridiculous it is that people should be made to feel guilty about doing what feels good.

I want to believe that it is a phase, that it is something else that is making him feel this way. He has always been a bit liberal in his beliefs (spiritual and political), at least since I have known him. We have always been able to find some common ground upon which we can agree, however tenuous. However, just recently he has started mocking Christ and Christian values. I refuse to even cite an example, however.

Ummm.... I am not sure it matters WHO you are, but you really do not want to mock one of the Godhead, do you? I mean, is that smart?

In short, all of what he posts lately is pretty offensive to the other 143 friends I have. I have received comments about it.

So: should I feel any guilt about either (1) hiding his posts or (2) unfriending him altogether? In the past he has blasted his family members who have defriended him (although how one learns one has been defriended, I do not know) and has let it affect his familial relationships. That is why I hestiate. He is still a friend for whom I will continue to pray and a colleague with whom I need to interact on a weekly basis. But do I really need to be subjected to his anti-religious sarcasm and vitriol on a daily basis?

Perhaps I will simply hide him for now.

[Sigh] Why on earth does social media turn so many adults into whiny little children?

Second: Do I have the right to moderate and "censor" what goes on here, on my own personal blog?

I am of differing opinions here. I can see both sides; I do not AGREE with both sides, but I can see the arguments.

[Aside: I should note that I have good readers and, at least to this point in time, have been extremely fortunate on this issue. I have fellow bloggers, however, who are constantly being attacked ON THEIR OWN BLOGS, and then criticized when they do something about the attacks.]

I realize that by putting my opinions out here on the internet and inviting comments on what I write, I lose a little bit of credibility with the argument. However, it is my space, my little bit of the 'web.

I believe that I can say that I have never once deleted or moderated a comment that made a negative or contrary argument to one of my posts. I delete spam on a regular basis, but only spam. I do not believe in deleting comments, but then I have not yet received one that is openly offensive. I cannot say what I will do in the event that happens.

But is it "censorship"? I think that is stretching it. To me, a "censor" is one who has some authority or control over others. While you could argue that I have control over your posts, and deleting said posts is an act of censorship, that might be true if it was, technically, a public forum.

Think of it in this way: I have invited a group of you into my house. Many of you are complimentary of my house, my LW, the Horde, and comment favorably about my religious artwork and books throughout the house. However, several of you take it upon yourself to belittle my beliefs, throw food at the walls, and put down my LW and the Horde, not to mention the expletives that you fling around. Would any of you actually fault me for throwing that small minority out of my house and try and spray Lysol around to get rid of the odor? Would any of you really tolerate me doing the same in your house?

Would any of you, in that instance, consider me a censor?

Why then consider me a censor for doing the same to those who come into my little house on the 'web and do the same thing?

Hey, mock me all you want on your blog. That is your space. You and your little friends can do that all you want, remembering of course the libel laws. But when you come into my space and mock me, my beliefs, or -- Heaven help you -- my family? You are in my house and can expect to be shown the door.

And before you pull out the "free speech" or a Constitutional argument--technically speaking, only the Government can violate a person's Constitutional rights. And for better or worse, I ain't the Government. In my house, your right to swing your arms around wildly ends at the tip of my nose.

If any of you have additional thoughts for me, I would welcome them.

Crisis of Faith

A crisis of faith?

Perhaps that is the wrong description. Call it more of a crisis of belief? I am sure that I could come up with something more clever and apropos this morning, but I am simply not in the mood. I simply do not feel creative.

I have decided I am done with the practice of law.

Unfortunately, the existence of my LW and the Horde kind of make the practical desertion from the practice...um, unpracticable.

But my heart is no longer in it. At all.

It is not just the practice of consumer bankruptcy, although I think that has a lot to do with it. I have tried for years to salve my discontent with the answer that I am helping people, doing good for people's lives, and so forth. But I cannot use that excuse any longer.

There are just too many people that come in and want to abuse and play the system.

There are too many people who come in, after having dug themselves into an insurmountable hole, and then blame you for their trials and troubles.

There are too many people unwilling to take responsibility for their own actions.

There are too many people willing to lie to you, their attorney, simply because they think that it will turn out better for them in the end.

And there are just too few people willing to give a simple "thank you."

Not to mention the lousy pay.

Need I go on?

A friend proposed that what I am feeling is nothing more than a simple mid-life crisis. I do not believe that to be the case. I do not wish to buy a sports car, or a boat, or have an extramarital affair. I do not wish to go back to school, or open my own business, or take up sky diving, or any of the myriad of usual things men do when undergoing a mid-life crisis.

I simply want to take my LW and the Horde, load up the Ford, stock up the trailer, and drive off into the mountains. You know, find a little meadow somewhere and just BE.

I simply want to be left alone.

I want to not worry through the night about THAT client: the one who comes forward mid-case to give you a case-destroying piece of information that they "forgot"; the one that blames you for all of the post-filing pay-day loans she took out; the one who somehow sees it as your responsibility that they have not paid their mortgage(s) in seven months but could afford the trip to Disneyland; the one for whom the office buys a Thanksgiving dinner who later tells the Court she has no idea who you are.

The other day, I had a client thank me for helping themn get back on their feet, relieving their stress, getting them in a frame of mind where they could work and be productive again, and basically crediting me for all the recent good in their lives. It made me feel really good.

The warm fuzzies lasted about an hour.

Until another client called to accuse me of falsifying numbers in his case, numbers calculated by a formula that Congress, the Justice Department, the Courts, and the Chapter 13 Trustees have all developed and forced upon me. I did that; It's MY fault that she had overtime for the past two years and, despite that fact, the overtime is not guaranteed and somehow should not be calculated into her anticipated gross income.

For every one appreciative client, for every client whose life you actually touch for the better, for every client that understands that you are helping them out of a hole of (typically) their own creation, for every "good" client I am inundated with at least 99 more that are lying, unfeeling, uncaring, abusive cretins.

Oddly, it is not the confrontation with opposing attorneys; there is very little of that in our tiny little section of the Bar. It is the confrontation with our own clients that has driven me to detest the very practice of the Law, driven me to taste bile at the thought of my office, and to cause near-physical pain at the idea of getting up in the morning and facing the day.

It is a practice that drains your emotions, that drains your Spirituality, that drains your spirit, and that drains your love for practically anything else in your life.

It is a practice that wads up your creativity and tosses it in the toilet, that causes your Muse to turn her back on you in disgust, that causes food to taste like sawdust, music to sound like noise, and simple, peaceful quiet to become deafening.

It is a practice that causes you to vent your frustrations--at other drivers on the road, at your family, at your friends, and at your employees. It is a practice that literally made me weep as I drove to the office this morning.

Believe me, if there was anything else I could do that would provide sufficient financial support for my LW and the Horde, I would be there in a heartbeat. I probably would only stop to fill one box with possessions; the rest of my office space can just go hang. But I have to be an adult about this: someone once said that you are not supposed to enjoy what you do everyday--that is why it is called "work." Well, I do not enjoy what I do everyday; I cannot fool myself any longer.

I am done.

But I am still here.

Happy New Year!

Here we are at the cusp of the new year and I have one thing to say....

We made it through another one.

2010 was a tough year, both personally and for this great United States of America. There was considerable sorrow on both fronts, as well as unusual stress and worry.

It was a year of blessings as well--again, both personally and as a country. The last blessing of the year? My cousin is on his way home from Fort Bragg; his tour is up and he's a private citizen again.

May God grant that we all have a better 2011 and may God bless America.

Glimpse into the Future

This is me in 10 years, Heaven willing.

I am an American.

Unfortunately, calling yourself an American has become a dirty word. You are urged to become, and praised for your wisdom and tolerance, if you call yourself a "citizen of the world" or something similarly politically correct. If you profess to be an American, you are usually called "jingoist," "rascist," "intolerant," "war-monger," "imperalist," and any of a host of other labels.

I dislike labels. Nearly all kinds. When I walk out of a 7-11 or a Circle K with a bottle of water, the label is off before I hit the car. I peel the mailing labels off my magazine subscriptions on the way back from the mailbox.

I will admit to using labels, though. Sometimes in frustration. Sometimes it is necessary to quickly portray to another person a specific stance or outlook that you may share. Sometimes it is out of frustration, I will admit it: sometimes I am a bit of a hypocrite on the issue. But I will also admit -- and it must be acknowledged -- that not everyone shares the same view or definition of these labels. Neither is it likely that any specific label fully covers or describes any one individual.

Case in point: I consider myself to be politically conservative. Let me be clear: I am not a Republican. However, a friend of mine took me to task this weekend because I commented to him how much I appreciated a neighbor of ours being unwilling to sell a parcel adjoining the neighbor’s home to a developer who was planning on putting in an apartment building. I commented that “a little open space is nice in the area” and “do we really need more apartments in the neighborhood?” I was the immediate recipient of scorn and disbelief: “I thought you called yourself a Conservative! Any true Conservative would be in favor of allowing the landowner to do with his property whatever he wishes; and any true Capitalist, like myself, would want to see him do something productive with the land. He should have sold it for apartment buildings, because he could have gotten a lot of money for it. Either that or he should rent it out for a neighborhood gardening co-op, or maybe use it as a pumpkin patch and Christmas Tree lot in the fall and winter. He could make a load of cash from that little piece of property.”

That is when I realized: I may be a Conservative, and I call myself a Capitalist and a lover of the free-market system. I agree with my friend: the property owner should be allowed to do whatever he wishes with that property and make as much money from the land as the market will bear. But there’s a bit of the cowboy in me. That part of me loves looking out from the side of an afternoon campfire over a beautiful, undeveloped meadow filled with wild flowers, while a mountain with no man-made improvements or construction towers towers over it all as a backdrop. No sounds of aircraft or vehicular traffic. Song birds, deer, even the occasional cougar: they all pass through unmolested. Nothing but clear mountain air between me and heaven. On second thought, let me change that: This is Heaven.

I shop at Wal-Mart, Home Depot, and 7-11. I like making money and I like spending money. I like buying a new hat and new boots. But that cowboy winces every time he drives down the street and sees another piece of land -- land that was part of a family farm fifty years ago -- being developed into duplexes or apartments. Green space torn up and thrown away in the name of cookie-cutter crap-quality so-called town homes. (Glorified apartments or dorm rooms, if you ask me. They are ugly and of questionable value.)

That’s why I am re-committing myself to re-labeling myself. Or maybe you can call it “un-labeling.” I am not a Republican or Democrat. I am not a Conservative or a Liberal. I am not a Capitalist, Socialist, Marxist, or any other such label.

In my opinion, I am what we all, ideally, should be.

I am an American.

We are all Americans.

We should all start acting like it, too.

Sometimes, like today, I think that there is too much focus on politics and political views.

Last week I got into a discussion of health care with a good friend of mine, who has decidedly liberal-slanted views. He actually told me, “You are a conservative I can actually talk to, because you are reasonable and have well-thought out ideas rather than just spouting off talking points.” He then proceeded to excoriate Tea Partiers, Glenn Beck, the Drudge Report, and anyone else who dares question any piece of Obama’s policies using the same language used by Olbermann, MSNBC, the Daily Kos, Nancy Pelosi, et al.

Talking points. We are all guilty of using them from time to time. Fundamentally, it is difficult to get away from them. But maybe they should be used as a springboard to our own thoughts and positions on a given subject, rather than used verbatim. Or maybe, just maybe, we should refrain from using them at all, stop all the arguing, and just go ahead and fix what is wrong with our beloved country.

Most of the people -- the real people -- in the country agree that there are serious problems. And most of the real people agree on what needs to be done to fix the problems. It is the zombies in the country that do not understand. These are the people who change their positions with their underwear, that cater to the elite, who believe (as does Senator Hatch, for example) that their constituents are not smart enough to understand what it is they do, and that’s why they need their Senators. These are the ones that are out of touch with the real people.

They are the walking undead.

Which is, I suppose, better than being a Progresstitute.

But I am an American.

We are all Americans.

Let’s start acting like it, and let’s get our country back. The one that we’re all proud of; the one that we all remember being so great. Let’s get it done and take her back.

Oh yeah.... the cowboy in me says, “Giddy up.”

(Cross-posted at Spirit of the Law.

We Did It!

At 10:30 p.m. Monday it was official!

Myself, my LW, and three of the Horde all reached our NaNoWriMo goals. Between us there were over 136,000 words of fiction written in our little home over the past 30 days. That's over 4,500 words per day.

That is a lot of writing, typing, and creative energy.

There was some real garbage put out (at least on my part) but there was some really brilliant writing put out too (that would be my LW and the Hordelings).

There were dwarves, elves, and dragons. There were some detectives, some spaceships, and a little time travel thrown in. There was teenage angst and middle-aged regret. There was even some introspection done. There was definitely pain: mental, emotional, and physical. If I am not mistaken, there was also a visit from Yoda and a few other Star Wars characters.

Congratulations to my family! I am so proud of all of you!

...and somewhat relieved that November is over for another 11 months.

Goodbye to mormonblogs

Recently (as in, this morning) a group of conservative-minded individuals who run The Spirit of the Law was removed and banned by the administrator of mormonblogs, a blogroll with supposedly LDS-oriented leanings.

The reason given was because of constant "screeds" against the sitting, duly-elected President of the United States.

Wow.

Essentially the same thing that those on the left did for the past eight straight years against the sitting, duly-elected President of the United States.

Back then, it was claimed to be patriotism. Now, apparently, it is un-Christlike.

The other reason is that the "Spirit of the Law"vians supposedly claim those who disagree with them are "unworthy" members. (Of course, the fact that if this claim is ever made, it is after the name-calling has already started from the other side.)

I am, frankly, amazed at the narrow-mindedness from a blogroll that applauds open-mindedness.

I suppose I should not be too surprised, however. In the past, I have considered asking for my blog to be taken from the mormonblogs blogroll because I have not really been wanting to be associated with some of the more common blogs on that site.

Now I am considering it again. To ban that blog for fairly reasoned, although sometimes overly-passionate, question-and-answer commentary is amazing. Especially considering the screeds I have read concerning George W. Bush prior to the election, the ramapant militant feminism, the (apparently) commonly-held ideals by many of the bloggers on the blogroll that you should not agree with the Prophet or the Brethren on anything (regardless of whether you have prayed about it or not) because that is simply blind obedience....

Shall I go on?

The common, popular blogs all use fairly reasoned, although sometimes overly-passionate question-and-answer commentary. I have frequently seen some of these blogs, or their readers, question the worthiness, or spirituality of anyone who "tows the party line."

It appears that, to be listed on Mormonblogs, it is OK to question the Gospel, the Prophet, and the US President so long as you disagree, disagree, and agree respectively. It is OK to question and drip venom, so long as it is against the approved targets. Politics is OK to discuss, so long as you have the approved politics.

That kind of "open-mindedness" is A-OK in their book. Any others need not apply.

(I should not paint with such a broad brush, I guess. There are a few harmless blogs that actually attempt to spread the Gospel, or a missionary message, and for those I am grateful. It is simply too bad they are swallowed up in the dank morass made by the others. There is a reason I have not visited for months and intend not to visit the blogroll any longer.)

Of course, if the "banning" of the website gets rid of some of the small number of lunatics (who are, I suspect, the ones who have complained to Ms. Angela at the blogroll) then maybe it is a good thing. I suspect several of them were simply using multiple aliases to seem to be a larger and more vocal group. I recommend all of my readers who are so-inclined to check out The Spirit of the Law and make up their own minds.

I had considered requesting removal of my blog in the past. But nope. I am no longer considering it.

It has been done. Apparently freedom of speech only slants one way on mormonblogs.

Good luck with your own favorite screeds, Angela. Hopefully they will keep you warm at night.

No hard feelings.

Literary U-Turn

Well, it happened.

I hate my characters and my novel.

I hate them enough that I am dropping it like a hot potato.

That's right. I am now 16,000 words in. I have been stalled for several days because I just cannot stand the people in my head, and I woke up this morning with a new book flooding into my brain.

The characters in my first attempt are SO bad that I was better able to channel dialogue for one of my wife's characters than dialogue and actions for three characters who have been nurtured in my head for months. Oh, yeah... all I know about my wife's character is his name and approximate age.

So. I am going from a dark, gritty fantasy novel to what I picture as an urban fantasy, alternate-modern novel with a lighter comedic edge. And I have 10 days.

For those with a public-school education, that comes out to be 5,000 words per day.

Can I do it? I think so.

Will I? I hope so.

Face of Evil

Today I came face to face with evil.

Evil, actually, with the capital "E."

Background: When the clients come in to sign their cases, I have usually met with them several times to answer questions, etc. After they're done signing I will meet with them so that they can ask any final questions, discuss any finer points of their case for the last time before filing, as well as to explain once again the bankruptcy process and the time-line.

This particular couple was signing their case and reviewing their paperwork. My receptionist came into my office with a warning that he was going to have questions about how to account for his charitable contributions. She is not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and so does not really understand all the lingo, vocabulary, and ins-and-outs, so she did not question his statement that he was a "card-carrying member" of the Church, and allegedly showed her his card.

Now, I am not sure what kind of card he showed her, exactly, but when he told her that he pays tithing not to the LDS Church, but a Church of his own founding, I had to start questioning the situation. After doing a little digging on the internet, I found out that this man had been excommunicated fifteen years ago; I could not find a reason or explanation for the excommunication other than that he no longer felt the Church was teaching the Gospel, and had not for over one hundred years. He is also a self-proclaimed prophet and discounts any authority held by any prophet following Joseph Smith.

It was a troubling and disturbing experience--literally an anti-Church screed. I have read anti-LDS materials before, but this was completely different than anything else I had read. The vitriol poured from my computer screen.

He spends a lot of time bemoaning his situation and calls himself a lone voice in the wilderness. What he is from all indications ia an anti-Christ.

Not "THE" but "AN" anti-Christ.

Just so we are clear, I will define my terms. Anti-Christ: An opponent to Christ, the Gospel, and His Church.

He reminded me of Korihor, except that he proclaimed a belief in Christ. Of course, it was not the Christ I know and love. I would argue that this doesn't preclude him from being an anti-Christ. Yes, it's an odd argument, but one can believe in Christ and still work against him. One can believe in "a" Christ and still work against his true Gospel and against His Church.

I wasn't online long enough to discover any of his in-depth issues with the Church, but I was there long enough to start to feel the darkness gather in my office.

Then I brought the couple into my little office for our chat.

All of the Light in my office vanished. Against my will, my nature, my judgment, and my normal custom, I became extremely nervous that he would see my Scriptures on my credenza or my Temple picture on the shelf. I have never -- NEVER -- been ashamed or embarrassed of these objects and I was not today. Rather, I did not want a confrontation; I simply wanted him out of my office immediately.

He started our chat with the information that he had been excommunicated, as if he were proud of it. He probably was and is, come to think of it. The conversation went downhill from there. The room filled with a spiritual darkness the longer he talked, a darkness like I have never felt before. It may sound corny or melodramatic...unless you have actually felt it, experienced it.

I have no idea what I told him or what we discussed. I do remember that I had difficulty thinking and formulating thoughts and words. And it was not simply distraction; it was a physical difficulty.

I do not want to spend much more time on this story; perhaps I have already said too much. I left the office right after they did and found myself having to take extreme measures to cast away the darkness. It was quite a while before I felt better.

Satan is real.

He is not a cartoon character, he is not a "concept."

He is real.

I think that I have felt the tiniest bit of what the Prophet Joseph describes in the account of the First Vision.

Again, Satan is real. His servants are everywhere and they are cunning.

But the good news? We have the Truth and the Light on our side; so long as we are on the Lord's side, we can have hope and look to Him for guidance and protection.

The Light will triumph and prevail, of this I have faith. Good will conquer Evil; Good is stronger than Evil, always.

Christ is my Redeemer and my Savior. He is real; He lives. His people shall ultimately overcome the world and have eternal life and exaltation.

There will be no more Darkness. Only Light. His Light. All He asks is that we come unto Him and follow His word.

It is just that easy.

This is my testimony to you, in His name.

Bliss and Embarrassment

Embarrassment because it's been two months since my last post.

Unfortunately, my blogpression is even deeper than I feared and still has me tight in its grasp. I hardly ever even read my favorite blogs any longer. Would that make them my once-favorite blogs? Perhaps technically.

I just don't seem to have much joy anymore. Certainly no bliss.

Don't get me wrong: my LW and the Horde are a joy. Even the noise they make -- as hard as it is on my usually-aching head at the end of the day -- is music. They are my life and, honestly, the only thing that keeps me going some days.

All right, you caught me: most days.

I sat in my car this morning in the parking lot for several long minutes. All I could do was sit there, thinking, dreading the day. It took every ounce of physical strength and mental/emotional will power to leave the car and walk the fifteen steps into the building. Every minute today was torture. Not "Nancy Pelosi woe is me I voted for water-boarding before I voted against it even though it gets results and really is not considered torture compared to what the enemy does to our soldiers" kind of torture. More "being forced to listen to Nancy Pelosi read Maya Angelou poetry" kind of torture or "simply being forced to be in the same room as Nancy Pelosi" kind of torture.

And it is getting worse every day.

So back to my embarrassment: I hope that the readers I have will not have given up hope on me. I am trying; really, I am, despite all appearances.

I say I have little joy. That is not to say I do not have hope: I cannot blame my blogpression on the country's turbo-powered faster-than-light descent into Hell slavery economic destruction Socialism, even though it appears that the vast majority of those in Washington, D.C. -- on both sides of the aisle, mind you -- seem to be using Atlas Shrugged as a game plan for ruining running the country.

[Aside: if you don't understand what I mean, pick yourself up a copy and read it. It's not just fiction anymore. The book's sales have also, in the first four months of 2009, tripled the total sales in all of 2008. Sheep People are waking up out there. Get it. Read it. And ask: "Who is John Galt?"]

No, I am not without hope. Just last month, a Prophet of God, His representative on Earth, Thomas S. Monson, urged the world to be of good cheer and have joy, and to have faith, and to never, never despair.

OK, so, I've already admitted here that I am falling short on good cheer, joy, and despair. Oops.

But I do have faith. And hope. And a loving caring family.

I am striving -- truly I am -- for good cheer, joy, and to remove despair.

I am also striving for my bliss.

"Bliss" has been much on my mind for the past year or so; my buddy JR in Salt Lake has a 50-year-old cousin that I've met a couple times. This is a really down-to-earth man who gave up the practice of law 4 years ago when the bankruptcy laws were changing. He started working with mortgages and saw the writing on the wall LONG before most of the rest of us did. He then dabbled with other areas of the law for a couple of years.

Then, a year ago, he abruptly up and quit to focus on his photography. He's loved photography, as a hobby, since he was in his twenties. JR has sent me examples of his work -- absolutely terrific work. I particularly like his floral work. He did some Olympic photos from the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake that are stunning. One is a composite piece that I haven't seen anywhere else: it shows all the different photo-wrapped buildings, at night, all aglow, with fireworks in the background -- a seamless, amazing piece, even though there is no one spot in the Salt Lake Valley from where he could have taken one photo and show all the buildings.

But I digress.

This is what he does now. My buddy JR says that he's never been happier.

I truly envy him. I have gone to a couple of his shows, not just to give him moral support, not just to revel in the art, but also out of selfishness.

Yep. I think it is an act of selfishness, so that I can feed off that joy of his, to glimpse someone who is truly happy.

I truly cannot imagine anyone in this specialized field of bankruptcy work who is truly happy. No one I know gets any real joy out of it; oh, there are those who seem to enjoy it, but they're always so angry about something and are more confrontational than anything else. I cannot classify that as joy. Even those who are very good at it are certainly not happy or joyful.

Is this what adulthood means? I hope not.

Even when we help someone who truly needs our help, when we truly do Good, those feelings do not last long in the bruising, crushing, daily emotional miasma in which we bankruptcy attorneys live.

I know my friends in Salt Lake, JR and J, are not happy.

I know I'm not.

That's why I'm looking for my "bliss" whenever I have a chance.

I hope one day to find it and throw all this to the wind.

Or, barring that, to hire a junior attorney to do all the work while I manage the firm.

And still hunt for my bliss.

The End of the Tunnel?

It has been awhile, gentle reader. But I think I'm back. or almost, at least.

I was going to entitle this post "Coming Out" but then I figured such a title would generate lots of the wrong sort of traffic.

But what does "The End of the Tunnel" mean? It means I think I can finally see that glimmer of light. The glorious dawn to the dark night of Blogpression.

You see, I was able to write this morning. I was able to write and it seemed to open the floodgates.

You see, ever since the end of NaNoWriMo--that is, ever since 11:30 p.m. on November 30, 2008--I have been unable to write anything of substance. No creative writing. No journal entries. I have even had difficulty completing essential client letters. I do not even want to THINK about the trials that the Sunday School lessons and other Church work have been.

But this morning as I stood in the shower, an entirely new scene for my NaNoWriMo novel presented itself, full-blown and complete, in my head. [Aside-- My LW and I have the same creative oddity: a hot shower in a steam-filled bathroom causes our creative juices to begin flowing. Are we alone in that? Maybe science could provide an answer.... But many was the time in November that I would reach a total impasse with a scene or a little piece of character development. I could be blocked all night long, but within minutes of stepping into a hot shower, BAM! There was the phrase or image I needed. I took to keeping a notepad in the bathroom so that I could write the words down as soon as possible. And yes, I do apologize for the image of me, in the shower, writing.]

It came fast and forceful, like a sledgehammer. I could actually SEE the characters interacting and hear their voices again. There were even smells in the scene. I quickly finished my ablutions and grabbed my notebook and started scribbling.

The mental floodgates were opening.

That scene led to another. Phrase by phrase, image by image, I quickly filled three pages of my notebook.

I did not want to stop.

Let me repeat that: I did not want to stop. After a month and a half, I actually wanted to write. On top of that, I was actually receiving words from my muse.

I am working on some other, future posts, delving a bit deeper into the reasons behind my blockage. I have been analyzing myself for the past few days and I think that is part of what helped thaw the icejam. Do not get me wrong: there are still some mighty big chunks of frozen imagery in my brain, and they're banging around with the randomly floating wooden words, crushing most of them and only occasionally letting a log through here and there. But it is breaking down.

And it feels good.

I think I may be back.

Punctuation!?

My battle with Blogpression continues, but it seems to be getting a little bit better.

For now, take a gander at this:

You Are An Exclamation Point

You are a bundle of... well, something. You're often a bundle of joy, passion, or drama. You're loud, brash, and outgoing. If you think it, you say it. Definitely not the quiet type, you really don't keep a lot to yourself. You're lively and inspiring. People love to be around your energy. (But they do secretly worry that you'll spill their secrets without even realizing it.) You excel in: Public speaking You get along best with: the Dash

What Punctuation Mark Are You?

I am not so sure how well this pegged me. I guess I will have to rely on my LW to let me know. I will let you know when I find out more, I suppose.

Blogpression

I apologize for the lengthy hiatus I have taken. I have a good reason.

Alright -- perhaps not a GOOD reason, but a reason.

I have "blogpression."

I realize that I may catch flak from those of you who have suffered true clinical depression. Well, flak away; I believe that I am currently in the midst of a form of depression.

It isn't writer's block: I've been there before and this ain't it. It also isn't burn-out; I was pretty burned out after NaNoWriMo, but this? This is something different.

I am not sure what it is. Perhaps I am still feeling a little post-election let-down. Maybe it's the cold outside? A rare form of influenza? Whatever it is, I just cannot seem to get up the "oomph" to post a blog entry. I still have some ideas, but they just are not popping up as frequently as they used to do.

Is this common with bloggers? Does it always happen at some point? The constant gasping for mental breath?

I want to blog; I want to share my thoughts with you. I really do. I just cannot seem to actually get the words down in pixels, though. Not even a post about religion. Not even something humorous, pithy, or sarcastic. There's always something else that I can do instead. The mere thought of blogging is as daunting as preparing for a marathon. And all of this is really bothering me.

And it's not just writing; I don't believe I have visited my "daily read" blogs more than maybe twice since Christmas Eve. Again, it's not a lack of interest -- just a lack of... something else.

Please. PLEASE, gentle readers. If you have any thoughts or suggestions -- or even just words of empathy -- please let me know.

Yes, I know this sounds like a shameless plug to get some responses. I don't mean it to be. I just need some of you in the blogosphere to give me some hope that this will pass and that this blog won't just turn into a stagnant pool of muck.

Please?

NaNoWriMo 2008 - Update (final)

VICTORY!

Hey, I did it. I reserve the right to shout it from the housetops if I want to.

That's right. 50,000 words in 30 days. Well, technically 50,646 was the official count. Yep. I wrote a novel.

Of course, I am not done with it, but I have a heck of a good start on it. (Now I just need to keep the dedication to stay with it and finish it up.)

My LW also finished up; of course, she beat me by about 30 hours. It was the first win for both of us. I just want to tell you -- I am prouder of her than I am of me. She did an amazing job. Not only did she finish up, but she also kept me on task and pulled me toward the finish line several times.

-------------------------------
Interesting stats: I kept track of my word count every day and I will tell you, if you ever want to do this yourself . . . do not wind up with seven days of zero words. What happens if you do miss seven days? You wind up writing 28,742 words in the last nine days of the competition.

That's right. Here's my word count day-by-day, starting on November 22, 2008:

• 4,143
• 2,516
• 5,145
• 785
• 1,519
• 3,626
• 6,380
• 1,422
• 3,206

And let me tell you, the 5,145- and 6,380-word count days? They were painful. Very painful. They certainly made the 1,667 word-per-day suggestion seem reasonable.

Curse life and those missing seven days.

But it is over now for another year.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow I start thinking about the story for the next year. 335 days to come up with a story. That, and I will be back to blogging. Ok, my family will also see a happy me again.

But tonight I am icing down my hands.

See you then.