Rock Art

So because I didn't post last week. Opps. So that's why you get two this week. Lucky you.

The reason why I didn't post last week is because I was on vacation in Southern Utah. It was fun, we went on a short hike where we wandered through standing rocks and looked at the rock art there. It was one of those cool places that has a trail and a fence but not overly blocked off. Available but not inaccessible. That's how I like it.

Virtue

A few days ago I heard someone talking about virtue. Virtue, as in integrity not chastity. The idea was that virtue is something you are. All the time. It cannot change or be variable. It means that you stand up for the same thing whether your family is watching, your friends are watching or no one is watching. The example that was given was about a man that was offered a hundred dollars to do something unethical, he said no, but when he was offered a thousand dollars he thought about it but still said no. But because he had to think about it, it wasn't virtue. Yes, and no, I thought. I suppose that virtue is steady and immovable, but that seems so incredibly out of reach. At least for me in some situations.

Somewhere in the depths of the Anne of Green Gables series by L M Montgomery Anne says something to the effect of wanting to marry a boy that is not dully good, but a man who could be bad, but isn't. I probably butchered that, but I would interpret it as wanting to marry someone (or being yourself) who does not just do good blindly but chooses it, even if they choose it because they have made bad/dumb decisions in the past and they know better now. Not only choosing consistently but also choosing because you know/understand the reasoning seems a more approachable virtue.

Hopefully this made at least a little bit of sense.

Story Building

For one of my classes I have to write a fictional short story. I have been looking forward to it, but somehow it is still so easy to procrastinate. I have worked on it though. Which ironically doesn't mean I've actually written any of it, but I have planned parts out and bounced ideas and plots off of people. And that is what I was going to write about. It's absolutely amazing how many things go into creating a story. The motives, cultures, clothes, time line, rooms, and of course the characters. Last semester I was writing nonfiction. There are still a lot of things involved but it doesn't seem like as much because I know so much about it already. I lived it after all. Anyway it has been an interesting journey, and I haven't even started yet. Perhaps down the road when it's been written and rewritten and I'm entirely sick of it, I'll post it so other people can get sick of it too. Why do I like writing?

Ethnocentric

In anthropology there is a concept called ethnocentrism. Anthropologists do not want to be ethnocentric because it means that they look and judge a culture from the outside without being open minded, respectful, and willing to look at things from the point of view of those within the other culture.

Growing up my mom always told us when we fought that it "takes two to make a fight" in other words we couldn't play the blame game and get away with it. In some ways I think that this helped me to be more open minded, more respectful to other people and cultures, and more responsible for my actions.

But as an anthropologist I fail at not being ethnocentric because I believe in moral truth. Some things are just wrong... yes I judge. That is something about anthropology that bugs me, they seem to think that truth is all relative. What a confusing world we would live in if that was true. However, I'm grateful for the basic mindset of open mindedness.

Winter Water

This week I spent an afternoon with my roommates in the canyon. It was fun to spend some time out tromping around in nature. I enjoyed it a lot. We spent a lot of time around water, there is something so innately intriguing about water, especially moving water.

Stubborn

So I don't think stubborn is quite the word I was looking for, but that's the best I could think of.

A couple of days ago I was thinking about the way I make decisions. I don't. Well at least I don't usually remember making them (I'm talking about the big ones). The summer I was eight when I was digging in the back yard (we did that a lot) I found a series of old broken and/or burnt items in the ground. Some of the most exciting artifacts were a pocket watch, a tube of toothpaste and what appear to be clay marbles. My parents compared it to Archaeology which I subsequently became interested in. When I registered for college I selected Anthropology (which Archaeology is a subset of) even though I wasn't sure if that's what I really wanted. I liked so many subjects I didn't know which one to choose, but I still registered for one Anthropology. I'm halfway through my Junior year and my major is still the same.

My mission is even simpler. I've always wanted to go on an LDS mission. And when I say "always" I mean I can't remember a time when I didn't want to go. When I was 21 (the minimum age requirement for girls) I went, a month after my birthday.

Another example: When I was little my mom wanted me to learn how to play the piano. I never did, I took lessons but it never went well. I had decided I didn't want to and so I didn't. This is why I say I'm stubborn. Once I make a decision I usually follow through. Which might not always be the best thing. Hence, my next point.

Recently people have been asking me about whether I want to go to Graduate School. I have nothing against going, but I haven't really thought about it either. Does that mean I won't? I can't? or just that perhaps it will be a different kind of decision process.

Sadness and Beauty

I read Bridge to Terabithia this week. My first post on this blog I said that I might ramble about books, but I haven't actually done it yet. So here goes.

I had never planned on reading it. I'd heard it was depressing and someone died at the end, and yeah. Why would I want to read a depressing book like that. But the thing is, I think sometimes I shy away from pain or sadness because of some innate idea that it is horrible and scarring. But its not. Sometimes I think accepting or even inviting pain or sadness into life is a good thing, to a degree of course, moderation and all that. It can be beautiful. In 101 Dalmations (my comfort book) it says in some ways the inverse of what I was just talking about. "Now, carols are always beautiful, but if you are sad they can make you feel sadder. (There are some people who always find beauty makes them sadder, which is a very mysterious thing.)" Basically I think that sometimes beauty and sadness are the same thing, or at least very intertwined. Just like the pine forest in Terabithia is meant to be visited only during times of the greatest joy or the greatest sorrow. I think I need to learn that; learn that hiding from pain, or sadness, or just emotion can mean missing out on the best experiences. So yeah, I liked Bridge to Terabithia.