Over My Head

It's interesting, having a blog... even though I haven't posted in a long time, I often still think of things in blog posts. How would I say this? That'd be funny to talk about. You should tell people that, that's important. Ever since I missed my annual ritual of writing some form of journal entry on the eve of my birthday (ok, the only proof I can find for you was from 2009, but trust me, all the rest are in my handwritten journals), I have felt more of a necessity to get back to blogging regularly. This desire may or may not also be enhanced by the fact that I am now home and it is much easier for Dad to bug me to blog again, haha.

So, new writings *may* be coming soon to a blog near you. For today, I wanted to share an idea that's been on my mind for a few weeks. It started when I was telling my family about the recent book I'd been reading, The Tipping Point (a very good book, by the way). It discusses some cool ideas and cites some interesting studies, some of which I shared. When I was finished explaining the concept of the book, Haleigh said, "Well, that all just went over my head!" In the discussion that followed in response, she said, "Most things go over my head. And I'm tall!" To which I said something to the effect of, "Maybe you've just been living all your life hunched over."

At the time, I was thinking of a legitimately very tall friend of mine who constantly hunches over so as to avoid too much attention. It wasn't until Dad brought attention to the potential philosophical and spiritual meanings of what I had said did I recognize them myself.

I sent these ideas to my friend currently on a mission in Peru. Here is what I sent:

"I've been thinking about it all week, and it reminded me of the scripture from 2 Nephi 1:23: 'Awake, my sons; put on the armor of righteousness. Shake off the chains with which ye are bound, and come forth out of obscurity, and arise from the dust. People hunch because they are lazy, afraid of bringing attention to themselves, ashamed, etc... similar reasons people avoid doing the right thing or following the gospel. It's when we arise from the dust, lift our heads out of the obscurity of mediocrity and straighten ourselves up to our full potential that we begin to live like Christ and become a more efficient conduit for the Spirit."

Since that email, I have recognized other references the Lord and His living prophets have made to this idea. "Living below our privilege" is actually a concept that's been spoken about lately several times. President Uchtdorf spoke to the Priesthood about it this past conference. I have changed his references to "brethren" and "priesthood" to more general terms that include the whole church:

The blessings of the gospel transcend our ability to comprehend. Faithful members of the Church can 'become … the elect of God.' They are 'sanctified by the Spirit unto the renewing of their bodies' and can ultimately receive 'all that [the] Father hath.'

....We are faced with a choice. We can be satisfied with a diminished experience as followers of Christ and settle for experiences far below our privileges. Or we can partake of an abundant feast of spiritual opportunity and universal blessings.

Sister Julie Beck also referenced the idea in her recent BYU Devotional address in January. She quoted concerns from President Packer, again specifically about the brethren, but also included an admonition for the sisters to "live up to [their] privilege" from the Prophet Joseph Smith.

It goes back to the reasons for "hunching" I suggested in my original email to my missionary friend. To give a somewhat silly literal example, today I played the organ in sacrament meeting. My former band teacher Mr. Flohre would be very proud, I sat up straight during the time I was on the bench but not playing, listening to the opening remarks. However, when the attention was turned to a boy's confirmation in front of the podium, I subconsciously relaxed and started to slouch. Then I thought, why did I do that? I realized it was because we were about to say a prayer, and no one would see me slouch.

No one would see me. I was literally hunching over because I was lazy. I am living below my privilege of having consistent perfect posture and carriage because I am too lazy to keep it up when no one's looking. Yes, I obviously put little effort in keeping my integrity of posture.

But seriously. It is easy to see how human nature and error can keep us from raising our head above what we have become used to see the glorious heavens that lay above.

As a last illustration of this idea, this past week I thought of the story of Plato's Cave. (I first became aware of this story, from Plato's book The Republic, in my high school band class, as we played the song, "Escape from Plato's Cave".)

Basically, Plato tells of a fictional tribe that is chained in a cave, facing the back wall, away from the sun and cave entrance. They are chained in a way so that they can not turn their heads; all they can see is the shadows of the world outside their cave. Since they have been chained this way since childhood, this is all they know, and all they believe the world to be.

One day, one of the prisoners frees himself and exits the cave. At first, he is irritated and annoyed as the bright sunlight pierces his eyes for the first time. But as he begins to get used to the light and develop this "new habit of sight", he recognizes the real, truer, and more vibrant images outside the cave that he only saw shadows of before. He runs back to tell his fellow tribe members, but they don't believe his accounts of something better, and put him to death.

I really like this story and how it goes along with the ideas of living below our privilege... we have seen shadows and small doses of Heavenly Father's greatness and love in our own lives, and maybe we think that's all there is. But there is love and power so much more invigorating and all-encompassing than we can ever imagine, if we only take it upon ourselves to escape our bonds and change our vision. As it was for the escaped prisoner, the change may be painful or irritating at first, but the glory of our new sight and recognition of our full potential and privilege will quickly replace all hurt.

May we no longer live letting things go over our heads; straighten up!