I Hate to Say Goodbye...

I go to the library probably twice a week.  I accepted a long time ago that I would never live long enough to read everything that I wanted to read, but I still like surrounding myself by books.  It’s a holdover from my childhood that books are among the few friends that will never abandon me; it’s always me that will abandon them.

This was the case the other day.  I went through the library’s shelves touring my favorite spot: The Fiction.  I love The Fiction.  I’ve grown up with The Fiction.  The Fiction has gotten me through a lot in my life.  But as I was browsing over the titles, I felt a little knot in my stomach and soon a weariness hung over me like a cloud.

Looking at the titles wasn’t filling me up.  If anything, I was feeling emptier.  Opening books up and reading what was in there wasn’t doing the trick.  I thought something would spark my interest, but the fire wasn’t there.

And it came as no surprise.  I’ve noticed a pattern in my life: every three to four years, I approach Burn Out.  I’ve fed so much mental and emotional energy into reading that I find myself spent and have to take some time away from the books to recharge my batteries.  After a respite of a couple months, I plunge back into reading with a vengeance.

This is my normal solution, except that this time, I find myself rather hating it.  Reading is my one true gifted talent I feel I can claim in this life.  I’ve been reading since I was two, I could read at a college level before high school, and although I have slowed down a lot since becoming an adult, I wouldn’t be surprised if I found that I go through 70 books a year—at least.

It’s a talent, though, that I have to exercise.  Taking a break would mean losing that skill.  So I’ve examined why I’m approaching Burn Out again.  I can’t accept that it’s entirely because I’ve poured too much energy in the one thing.  I think what’s really happening is that the stuff I’ve been reading has just started to bore me.  This is especially true with The Fiction.

I say this with some melancholy.  But I can’t deny that The Fiction isn’t doing much for me.  It’s time to turn to The Nonfiction.

The Nonfiction, however, is daunting.  There’s so much there.  One minute I’m looking at military history, and then I move to the biographies where there are a dozen fascinating names I want to know more about and will have time for none of them.  And then there are the arts, the sciences, the philosophies, the current events, the mathematics, and even nutrition.  It goes on and on, subjects I want to learn now but have no time for.  The question comes, where do I start?

The question came to me again this last Wednesday night.  I was at the LDS Institute of Religion, waiting for a class on “The Principles of Leadership” to begin, and naturally made my way into their library.  It’s much smaller than my local public library, but lining the walls in that small room are many challenging volumes ranging from the religious to the regular academic and even to its own fiction section.

These books old and worn.  I stood there looking at these volumes and imagined the months and probably years many of them had sat on their shelves, untouched and unknown by all the students and random walk-in who looked at them.  I wanted to cry, “What’s the reason for your existence?  Why are you here if you’ll never get read?  It certainly won’t be me who reads all of you.  I’ll never have the time!  Even if I did, I wouldn’t have the strength.”

After much meditation, there were two series in that library that had my attention.

The first series is a 54-volume set called Great Books of the Western World.  I’ve been aware of this set since I was in the eighth grade.  It was in my local library that I visited; I even borrowed a volume or two over the years but I never got far into them.

Great Books is a collection of essential classical writers from ancient time through the Nineteenth Century.  It has works from Homer, Euclid, Socrates, Plato, Shakespeare, Dante, Melville, Freud, Darwin, the American Papers, and on and on.  They’re part of what the editors considered to be the most notable voices in what they call the Great Conversation.  It’s all literature that used to be required reading in order to be considered civilized, or at least educated about the fundamentals of our world.  These are names that have crossed my way before but I’ve never looked into what they actually say.  I think it’s past time for me to become involved in the Great Conversation.

The other series is related to my religion.  There’s a 26-volume set called the Journal of Discourses.  It’s a selection of sermons and talks given by the leaders of the Latter-day Saint church during the Nineteenth Century.  I’ve had some familiarity with these in the past, read a couple things here and there, but I’ve never actually poured myself into them as I have the past couple weeks.

While this is not required reading to understand any of my church’s doctrine (all of that can be found in our scriptures) I’m finding it indispensable in connecting to a Mormon culture that is both familiar and alien to ours today.  The doctrine is all the same, and yet the way they applied and presented it to each other shows many surprising and yet moving things about the society they lived in and the trials they had to face, as well as how the truths gave them comfort.  It’s a very moving and personal experience for me.

Between these two series, that makes 80 books to work my way through, and these are no lightweights.  This is a full-on commitment that will take me at least three years to get through, because this time I’m not reading for mere pleasure; my aim is comprehension.

They won’t be the only books I read during this time.  Besides my daily scripture study, I have books I’ve borrowed from uncles that I still have to finish.  I have a monthly book club and ever since I joined, there’s been only one book I never finished (and which I feel no sorrow over.)  A couple books I put hold on the library I still feel are worth my time to read when they finally come.  And when I get my hands on anything by Hugh Nibley, the world stops.

But the truth is, these 80 books have become Priority #1.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to consider myself truly educated anymore unless I put forth the effort and lift myself to new heights of knowledge I’ve never dared reach for in the past.

Between this new challenge, plus my never-ending cycle of schooling, I knew that I was going to put this blog back on hiatus.  I planned to update once a month, probably on the last Saturday of each month, at least until I was on my way to a career.

After tonight, I realize that it won’t just be a hiatus.  This is going to be goodbye.

I’m prone to taking long walks after school, both as a way to clear my head and also to put in the only exercise I seem capable of anymore.

No matter how far I go or how late it gets, I always find my way to a park not far from home.  I have to stop there because I love this park.  I love the trees, the playground that’s there, the families that come there, and the solitude when I’m the only one present.  Often, there are few things I love better than lying on my back and gazing up at the stars.  It’s one of the few places in the city itself where the lights don’t quite obliterate the universe above.  It looks quite beautiful.

It was dark before I made it back to the park so it was the perfect time to look at the sky.  It’s almost a full moon tonight, and seeing the moonlight shine through the clouds was simply sublime.  I could never capture that sight in a photograph and it killed me that there was no one around to share that moment with.

As I wondered at how lovely the moon was, this thought impressed my mind:  Do you want a terrestrial glory or a celestial one?

Perhaps nobody outside the Latter-day Saint community will appreciate this question, but I’ll try to explain.

In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, you’ll find him talking about the resurrection from the dead in chapter 15:

“There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial: but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another.  There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.”  (1 Cor. 15:40-41)

Further revelation given through Joseph Smith elaborates on these glories as being part of where all mankind will someday end up.  The glories of the sun, moon, and stars are symbols of what are called the celestial, terrestrial, and telestial glories, respectively.

There’s a lot of concern about the eternal worlds where we eventually end up.  The lowest, the telestial, is the place where those “who are liars, and sorcerers, and adulterers, and whoremongers, and whosoever loves and makes a lie” go.  I don’t feel worried about going there.  While I’m confident that there will still be temptations that will continue to plague me in the future that could set me down there, I know my heart and frankly, I’ve worked too hard to be an honest and good man to ever want to descend down that path.  I have no love for that destiny.

The question that came to me tonight, Do you want a terrestrial glory or a celestial one? is a rather unsettling one for me.  What unsettles me is that I didn’t have an immediate answer.

I know what my answer should be.  The whole doctrine of my church with its accompanying rituals, covenants, and practices are all designed to lead us to the celestial glory, the one whose glory is typical of the sun.  It’s not that the terrestrial glory is a bad place.  Like the moon is brighter than the stars—far brighter, in fact—so too is the terrestrial glory greater than the telestial.  The scriptures say this about the terrestrial inhabitants:

“Behold, these are they who died without law; and also they who are the spirits of men kept in prison, whom the Son visited, and preached the gospel unto them, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh; who received not the testimony of Jesus in the flesh, but afterwards received it.  These are they who are honorable men in the earth, who were blinded by the craftiness of men.  These are they who receive of his glory, but not of his fullness.  These are they who receive of the presence of the Son, but not of the fullness of the Father.  Wherefore, they are bodies terrestrial, and not bodies celestial, and differ in glory as the moon differs from the sun.  These are they who are not valiant in the testimony of Jesus; wherefore, they obtain not the crown over the kingdom of God.”  (D&C 76:72-79)

Again, it’s not a bad place to end up.  It’s just not a fullness, as it says.  They receive the presence of the Son, or Jesus Christ, but not the fullness of the Father.

In other scriptures, we learn that what determines our final placement in the eternities is our willingness to obey certain laws, or the laws that govern each kingdom of glory.

“For he who is not able to abide the law of a celestial kingdom cannot abide a celestial glory.  And he who cannot abide the law of a terrestrial kingdom cannot abide a terrestrial glory.”  (D&C 88:22-23)

I know the laws required for the celestial glory.  I’ve been taught them all my life.  But looking over these scriptures, I find myself saying that I know I’m an honorable man, but do I find myself blinded by the craftiness of men?  In other words, am I convinced to follow paths that aren’t completely in line with the gospel I’ve been taught?  And also, am I truly valiant in my testimony of Jesus?

It boils down to, if I were to die now and move onto the eternities, would I be comfortable going into a celestial glory, or would I feel more at home living the laws of only the terrestrial realm?  It’s a serious question that I never considered I would have, and yet it seems that this is something I need to devote more of my life to answering.

I suppose that with this new “quest” of self-discovery, I have to make some sacrifices and remove things that would distract me from these new goals of mine.  Reading these two series and also working to answer my question will occupy much of my time, and that means letting go of what has been so important to me in the past.

Including this blog.

It’s never had a large audience, and I honestly never expected it to.  But I know the names of several of you that have, family and friends, and I’d like to say thank you for thinking that what I had to say was worth taking time out of your day to read.

It’s been over two years since my first writing, and with this, my total posts will be 207.  I don’t know the total number of words that amounts to, but I’m sure it would at least be the length of one book.  That’s incredible to me.

I’ll miss this.  I really will.  But I’m glad to be ending this project on my own terms, and I’m rather excited to see what the next step is going to take.

I wish you all the best.  Really, I do.