An Interview with Alonzo Gaskill.

Let me introduce you all to one of my favorite professors at BYU: Professor Gaskill. I've never had a more energetic, more engaging professor in my college career. His world religions class can be irreverent at times, with him cracking jokes about his mother-in-law or about times he's embarrassed himself, but he is very intelligent and knows a great deal theologically. In fact, he's been called Hugh Nibley on amphetamines...or was it methamphetamines? Either way, even though class can be rowdy, you can tell he holds the truth, found in many religions, in the highest esteem.

I recently interviewed Professor Gaskill on his newly published book The Lost Teachings of Jesus on the Sacred Place of Women.

Photo from Amazon, where you can also purchase the book.

It seems to me almost like destiny the way Prof. Gaskill came across these scrolls. He was just hanging out at a used bookstore and found some Russian guy's journal. It recounted his trip to Tibet and discovery of scrolls at a Buddhist monastery. These scrolls had some of Christ's teachings and it contained sermons that aren't included in our New Testament today. One of these sermons was on women and was, as Prof. Gaskill said, "the only part that really drew me in—enough to write a book on it, anyway."

I Wanna Get Better.

I didn't know I was lonely till I saw your face.
I didn't know I was broken till I wanted to change.

I wanna get better.

Time to run.

I had this whole thing written about how this was the year I was going to hit the ground running and how I was going to figure out my life and everything. I quickly erased it because, let's be honest, I have no idea what I am doing.

I hope I can figure things out soon.

It's December.

It's December.

Thank goodness.

This was perhaps one of the busiest semesters in my entire college career thus far. And to be honest, I've burnt out. Perhaps going to school spring and summer was not a good idea because everything has been rather bland to me. School, work, people, music--they all were routine. And it wasn't until these last couple weeks of this semester that I started feeling like myself again.

We were planning on going to Colorado two weekends ago to see Trevor Hall and Nahko and Medicine for the People and I thought that that would lift my mood. But the snow put an end to our plan very quick, and I was a bit bummed, but somewhat relieved because I had too much to do.

That same Saturday we were going to see Trevor and Nahko, I went to see Isaac Russell at the Velour. I think he is a brilliant artist and although it wasn't the best concert I've been too, "Heaven" had me feeling again. That, and Isaac's guitarist who looks like a bearded Ben Wyatt/Adam Scott. And I love Ben.

(This was from the same concert I attended. Thank you to n8hankins for recording this.)

Tame.

"What does that mean--'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower...I think that she has tamed me..."

--Antoine de Saint-Exupery, "The Little Prince"

The Little Prince

I hate saying goodbye. Sometimes my fear of saying goodbye is so overpowering, it prevents me from getting to know people. Because once I get to know someone, we would create that bond and we would be unique in all the world to one another in some way. But the only thing constant in the world is change and with change comes goodbyes, both temporary and not.

Last Friday afternoon, I said goodbye to my boss who is leaving to work with the homeless in Salt Lake. In mid-December, I will commemorate the beautiful lives America said goodbye to in Newtown. In the new year, I will say goodbye to friends graduating. Years (hopefully lots of them) down the road, people will say goodbye to me, and not after saying goodbye to friends along the way.

Goodbyes make life daunting.

Someone told me they believe that in heaven, every person we ever tamed in our lives, who tamed us as well, will reunite with us and it would be as if we never said goodbye at all.

I choose to believe that as well.

Why did I post this on Thanksgiving day? Good question. I'm not sure. (Also, fyi, I'm writing this at two in the morning so if none of this is making sense...that is why.) I guess I wanted to thank you for your friendship to me through my 21 years. Wherever you are (and I am sure we know each other if you are reading my personal blog ha), I hope you are well. I am sorry if our goodbye came abruptly and I ask for forgiveness if I am to blame for that.

But I am glad that our bond did happen and for how I've grown through it. I am thankful for the kinships I have right now and for the love and support they give me. Most of all, I am ever grateful for the relationship I have with my Savior Jesus Christ and for all that He has done for me. He lives.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends. I truly love you all.

Hide-and-Seek.

When I was younger, I played a lot of hide-and-seek. I would hear the joyous reunions of the hiders and the seeker from my own hiding spot, and my heart pounded each time I thought they would find me. But I was never found. I was ok with it then. It made me feel like I was a good hider.

Now I am older and sometimes I make sure no one can find me. But I am afraid of those times because I can hide for a long time and I am more afraid that no one would ever seek me, or that no one would ever realize I am gone. I am the most afraid that I will disappear and that when I am asleep, no one will be there to hear my staggered breathing, heavy and withdrawn, no one will be there to touch my fingertips wandering in the dark to let me know they know I am here, and they found me.

To my Illia.

My dear Illia,

Congratulations on your mission call to Denver North!

First, let me just say, I love you so so so much. Second, woohoo! Denver! And third, you know that I sometimes have a hard time expressing myself when so much passion fuels my words. So I am writing this. (Also, I am more eloquent writing than when I stutter.)

Illia, I am so incredibly proud of you and your decision to serve a mission. I just want to let you know that I love this Gospel so much. We've never really sat down a lot to talk about it, (at least, I don't remember telling you) but I want to tell you about a spiritual experience I had this past winter/spring.

Back before Easter, I experienced the horrid unfeelingness, yet perpetual sadness, of depression. After some pivotal news, I was pushed from being relatively normal to depressed, I forced an emotional barrier to surround myself. Nothing was getting through and I was not going to let petty emotions get to me. And it worked for a little bit. But when it came crumbling down, and it broke a couple times, several people witnessed many emotions at once from me. What they got mainly, though, was my sadness and a subtle anger. I hated everything and I disliked everyone.

One Sunday, my Relief Society president came up to me and asked me how I was doing. I hate public crying, but I did it. I burst into tears in front of several people, one who literally took a step back and said, "Whoa." My RS president took me to the bathroom and held me as I cried and as I told her everything. In the midst of it, she asked me if I had faith. I said that I thought I did. She told me that I needed to have faith that Heavenly Father had a plan. I scoffed internally. I wanted things fixed now. I didn't want to go through this.

But I was feeling crummy, so I took her advice and I asked for a Priesthood blessing from my home teachers. And it was...nice. (This is in no way a reflection of my home teachers at that time, but I think more of a push for more faith on my part because I am a lazy person.) But I didn't feel "fixed" and so I continued to feel the darkness of depression.

Then, a good friend came in town. That was the most beautiful Easter ever, Illia. He offered me a priesthood blessing. And at first, I said no. I thought that I already got a blessing. It just needed the time to settle in, or whatever. But the more I thought about it, the more something inside nagged at me to ask for one. I needed to exercise my faith and ask for another blessing.

Last weeks of summer.

As the summer is coming to a close, I've been more and more exhausted. So this post will be more photo-heavy than usual for my blog. In fact, more peculiar for my blog.

Anyway it's been a while since I've posted. Over a month, to be, um, exact...ish.

In that time, I've traveled to San Francisco and got lost in a sea of Asian tourists.

Crooked/Lombard Street.

And Sacramento, which was way boring. With the exception of this Nile River-esque, pyramid scene.

I was stranded in Elko, Nevada due to a flat tire on a Sunday.

Photo cred: Michelle

I finished the summer term.

[Insert photo here.]

Food bloggin'.

Guess what. I guest blogged. On a restaurant review blog. And it was awesome because I finally had an excuse to go out to eat. You can read it here and check out other reviews.

And I'm reposting it here too. Just because. Also, don't judge my reviewing skills. This was my first time review a restaurant. And I just usually like all foods. (The real pro at reviewing is our very own guest blogger Sam. How I wish Yelp could show all your wonderful reviews.)

--------

Readers of this blog. Hello. I am Eden Wen. I was asked to contribute and I thought to myself, “Yes. A perfect excuse to eat out this week.” And I knew the perfect place to go to.

However, on my way to review my favorite Mexican restaurant, Emmanuel’s (if Ian lets me do another review, I’ll do it on that piece of heaven on earth), I bumped into two friends who told me that I must go to Stan’s instead. And conveniently, it was across the street from Emmanuel’s on 9th East, so I obliged.

On the outside, it looks like any other burger joint. But, I have to say, I was very confused walking in. I was bombarded with several menus and the interior was not the most comfortable. And not only was Stan not there, unless one of the three East Indian women was Stan, he is apparently an Indian man with a love for greasy American foods.

Trafalga.

Wednesday night came around and Eden was ready to laser tag it up with friends. Lively chatter filled the car on their way to the Trafalga Fun Center in Lehi and in any lull in conversation, you could hear Eden quietly shooting finger lasers at each passenger.

"Pew. Pew pew pew," she pewed.

Renae turned into the fun center's parking garage. Suddenly, all happiness and laughter ceased as uneasiness and fear settled into the hearts of the seven friends. They entered the Azkaban of all parking garages. While Renae turned a corner, looking for an empty space, Eden clutched Ariel and Eric's kneecaps, positive that at any moment, dementors would swoop in to steal her soul. No light fixtures were lit and after close examination, it appeared there weren't even light fixtures at all. The glow of the setting sun shone sparingly through the windows, if that's what you call the slits in the walls.

"At least there aren't any dead bodies, right?" Randi said. The friends all chuckled nervously as they left the car.

Randi spoke too soon. As they emerged from the dark shadows to a less shadowy area of the garage, Eden saw a body on the floor. Her heart stopped, then started again, beating five times faster than a regular day's worth of cardio.

The body moved.

A zombie? Eden's seen "World War Z." A bitten human can change in 12 seconds. She hated running, but this was a moment when her flight or fight instinct kicked in hardcore.

My flight or fight face.

Just as Eden was about take off, the body looked up and she realized what they were looking at. It was just one of those emo kids that exists in every junior high. She (or he...it was always hard to tell) was just being emo and introspective whilst another emo child was looking on. The Trafalga Fun Center parking garage seemed a proper setting for the youths of the night.

Right now.

Right now, I am sitting in the House of Representatives Chamber in Salt Lake City. The special session of the legislature was supposed to start at noon thirty, but apparently that was just a suggested time. It's a whole fracken hour later. I may seem calm and cool and collected, but this is how I really feel.

It's a shame these cushiony chairs are bolted to the floor.

Anyway, I charged my laptop, but there's always a fear that I'll run out of battery. Also, I fear that my car won't be where it I parked it. But that's always a weird fear of mine.

The major press is sitting to my left and across the way from me. And I'm sitting in these cushiony seats just waiting. And blogging. And waiting. With my press pass.

I'm trying out different smiles. Do you like this one?

And I'm nervous. I've never really gotten into politics, so I'm not sure if I can cover this effectively. We'll see. My editor's got my back.

The important people are slowly coming in. Slowly. C'mon people, I have class to attend later tonight. And laser tagging. If you have a Pass of All Passes, feel free to join. Even if you don't, come play.

Here's a song.

I'm learning to play this. And Tyler and I will perform it. For ourselves, mainly. 

Okay, I gotta go now. Gotta preserve my battery. It may be another hour before it actually begins.

Also, I realize that I might have gotten your hopes up about how cool this post actually was with my teaser line on Facebook and Twitter, so I apologize. I was just bored and wanted to write something. So here it is.

Okay, gotta go.

Update 7/18/2013: My article on the special session.