The Rainbow Leech

I’ve been doing some thinking and creating lately - for therapeutic reasons.  My latest fly I call the “Rainbow Leech”.  I made it because it represents my life in a way.  The leech pattern is one of my favorite patterns to fish with because it catches fish almost every time and it’s a lot of fun.  I tie it because it’s fairly simple and easy to tie.  In this case, the colors all represent something to me. 

The rainbow material is called crystal flash.  I tied this in to represent my wife.  Crystal flash is a material that is the most rigid of all the materials I select.  It is the strongest of these materials because it has a twist to it, and that twist gives it its strength.  I liken this to my wife.  She has been though a lot in her life, and it has given her strength.  It’s multicolored and beautiful, just like she is.  Depending on the angle you look at, you will see different aspects of its colors and characteristics.  All of my wife is represented here, and I love every aspect she has which make her a unique and beautiful individual.

The pearly looking material is called pearl flashabou.  Flashabou represents my children.  On first look, it’s just ordinary material, but when light shines you can see how it reflects and catches your attention.  When picking this particular material in a fly, it really reflects light a long way in the water and that’s what gets the fish to come check it out.  My children are unique and beautiful, and the light they reflect back at me brings me so much joy and happiness that I cannot fully express in words.  You must stop and examine this material to enjoy the special beauty it brings to this fly.  Just like my children, if I do not stop and examine what they bring in my life, I will miss out on so much joy and richness.

The red is just regular old tinsel.  I see in this one the pain that is in my life.  I chose to use this only once in the fly, and I put it right at the head.  Right now, the red definitely does not represent everything that goes into my life and makes me who I am.  However, it is up front and always on my mind.  It is mixed in with everything that makes up the rest of my life.  It will never go away and is always visible, even if it’s hard to pick out.

Finally, the last part you cannot see unless you turn over the fly.  It is a very thin white thread.  The white thread, to me, is love.  It that binds the whole fly together.  If you try to remove the thread, the whole thing will fall apart.  It would no longer be the Rainbow Leech.  It would just be a pile of flashy material.  The thread runs through every piece of the tying process; it would be impossible to separate one piece from the other.  I love my family.  And while love can be fragile, when combined it wraps around every aspect of my life and it pulls the whole thing together into something marvelous and wonderful.  It is this simple thread that keeps me going through all the pain - and all the joy.

The Bison Winter

I haven’t written in a while, been putting it off for the very reason I’m writing this post.  It’s the most serious thing I’ve written so far.  It certainly hasn’t come easy to bring my thoughts to words.  It’s even more difficult to live through what I’m writing about.  It’s one of those things that I never understood until I came to live it myself and I find myself saying, “Ok, I get it now.  I get how somebody else has come here too.”  It’s a complicated thing to explain, so I’ll use a comparison.

Bison live in the Yellowstone National Forest full time.  They don’t migrate.  These are some tough creatures that endure one of the harshest winter climates in North America.  They don’t hibernate, so they need to eat year round.  Their massive bodies need the grass that gets covered in feet upon feet of snow.  The struggle they endure just to survive winter is what makes them such strong creatures.  There is, however, a unique feature in Yellowstone: it is very geothermally active.  There are areas where the ground is so warm that snow cannot gather very strongly.  In these areas is plenty of water to drink and grass is so much easier to access because of the lack of deep snow.  There is a group of bison that has chosen to live in these geothermic areas.  They don’t have to work nearly as hard as the rest of the bison to graze on the grass in the area.  They also don’t have to endure nearly as harsh cold either because of the heat in the area.  It would seem they found the perfect place to winter in such a bitterly cold environment.  There is a huge trade off, however.  These areas have extremely high concentrations of two things that exact a price for this ease.  First, silica is everywhere in the grass and waters.  When the bison eat, they are essentially eating glass powder that, throughout their life, destroys their teeth.  Bison in these areas lose their teeth far earlier in their lives than the other bison that live in the park. 

The second thing is fluoride.  Fluoride, we all know, makes our teeth stronger.  It’s in our toothpaste and helps promote a healthy smile right?  It is true that, in very small doses, fluoride is very good for dental health.  However, in the concentrations that these animals ingest, it is disastrous.  In such large concentrations it reduces bone density and damages joints.  On average, a Yellowstone Bison lives 15 years.  The geothermal bison have 1/3 of their normal lifespan taken away from them because of the environment they grow and thrive in.  It seems that their ease of living has come at a high price for these magnificent animals.

My whole life I was raised in a situation that I’ll liken to the bison.  Everybody knows I grew up in the LDS church.  The church for me was my geothermal pasture.  The church provided me a lot of wonderful things in my life.  I gained a moral compass through the teachings of the LDS church.  It provided me a perspective that I’ll probably never change.  I learned the importance of compassion and charity through the teachings of the church.  I served a mission because I believed in this message so much.  I loved the church to my core, I loved the calm it brought me in my life.  It provided me with a vision of how I should proceed; it was a road map on how I should do things.  Indeed, I dedicated my entire adult life to its teachings and precepts.  I thought I had it all figured out because of the peaceful messages I surrounded myself with.

Like the bison in the geothermal areas, I was slowly eating poison the whole time.  Not enough for me to notice, but the concentrations kept growing and growing inside my soul.  There came a point, very recently, that this poison came to its flash point.  I could no longer ignore the damage I had juggled for years.  I could no longer shove aside the hard questions.  Gone were the comforts of faith, prayer, community, and brotherhood.  I realized I was in the midst of a faith crisis.  I’ve tried for years and years to find answers to my internal questions.  I struggled with these questions so much.  I tried and tried to figure out why things were so broken in my life.  Not once did any of my efforts yield any results.  This faith crisis is one of the most painful experiences I’ve ever had to work though.  At times it has felt that I’ve been forced to watch my best friend die painfully in front of my eyes.  The whole foundation my entire life was built upon suddenly turned to ash and the house collapsed in on itself.

So often I would hear messages about reaching out to people amid their hardships; how it was the duty of a disciple of Christ to share the burdens of others.  I was part of a brotherhood that was supposed to mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort.  I waited and waited for these blessings to come to me.  I shouted out and asked for help; I explained how I was sinking and my faith was dying. Never once did I receive the desperately needed lifeline.  I had been ignored and abandoned by church and my God.

After excruciating reflection I came to realize that I could no longer walk the path of a Mormon.  For me there are only hollow answers.  There is no grand equation for me and my life. The progress I’ve made has been through pain, sorrow, depression, and a refusal to give up.  Together with the help of my wife, I have begun to piece together my shattered soul.  I have found that my schoolmasters are pain, burdens, and hardship.

I no longer have a grand eternal blueprint to look at and receive direction.  I no longer feel that I know what will happen in my life.  I will no longer participate with the Mormon Church. I have come to terms with the death of my faith.  What has replaced this giant gaping hole in my soul is the knowledge that I have picked myself up and dug myself out of the rubble of my collapsed faith.  I can continue to suffer though grief and pain and keep living and gaining strength and confidence in my own actions.  I go on, knowing that I am strong enough and worth all the effort.  I have found myself and will continue being the best man, father, and husband - no matter the cost.

Game Over Man

Game over man.  Game over!

Video games have been one of my favorite hobbies and I’ve spent countless hours doing it.  Yes I know huge revelation to the world on that one.  In my early years games and hardware were very primitive and required something called a boot disk.  This was a technical challenge and was my introduction in to the world of computers.  On ancient computers, aka 486 PCs, most games needed a tailor made 3.5 floppy boot disk in order just to have enough system resources to run the game.  My desire to have fun playing a cool game driving a submarine made me have to learn a technical skill.  It doesn’t sound like much but this drive to want to play better games kept me learning computers.  As computer hardware advanced games got bigger and better as well.

I buried myself in reading and comparing pieces of hardware and their performance, and most especially cost.  I found such a sense of self-worth and empowerment just being able to figure out all this stuff by myself going out and purchasing all the individual pieces and building my newest and shiniest gaming rig I could afford.  I was pretty good at it and I often lugged these things around to friends’ houses for a LAN party.  To those of you who aren’t total dorks a LAN party is where a bunch of guys bring their computers together and link them together so we could all play the same game against each other in the same room.  I met a lot of good friends doing this and we had some awesome times.  I even met a few that I consider some of my most valued friendships I’ve ever had.  I often think about the times we spent together not playing computer games and get filled with Joy at those memories.  I also laugh my ass off thinking about some of the insane things I did in the games like jumping off the cliff as fast as possible so the other guys couldn’t kill me all the while yelling insane things like the snakes are after me!

Eventually I grew up.  A bit.  A very little bit and got married!  I’m sure most women will roll their eyes at this one.  But games caused a bit of tension between myself and my new bride.  She got upset at me that after a long day at work I’d go home and straight to the computer and play for too long instead of being with her.  Yes I know ladies shocker!  Eventually I learned not to be an idiot and backed off gaming a wee bit.  When kids rolled around that’s when things really changed.  I knew that spending a crap ton of time on a game vs changing diapers and midnight feedings were not very compatible.  So I cut back a ton because I didn’t want to be that guy who ignored his wife and relegated her to the duty wet nurse, or wife maid.

As the years rolled by and kids grew I still went back to games over and over again.  Not for learning or technical reasons.  My skills working in the technology field far out stripped anything I could possibly learn playing a game.  Instead of what happened in the past something else developed out of my gaming habits.  Escape from reality was the new theme.  I began to isolate myself from my problems and opted not to even think about them.  When things became stressful I buried myself in a game and did what is called ‘power gaming’.  Here is a handy definition from Wikipedia. 

Powergaming (or power gaming) is a style of interacting with games or game-like systems, particularly video games, boardgames, and role-playing games, with the aim of maximising progress towards a specific goal, to the exclusion of other considerations such as storytelling, atmosphere and camaraderie. Due to its focus on the letter of the rules over the spirit of the rules, it is often seen as unsporting, un-fun, or unsociable. 

The games I focused on were not even multiplayer so I didn’t have to play with other people.  The sense of accomplishment I felt from reaching max level on games gave me a false sense of control over my life.  It was my total escape from reality, it was an atmosphere where I could control all the variables.  I had clear goals and outcomes and endless tinkering I could do to achieve some useless skill.  So I created a safe haven of stagnation.  Gaming, and a crap ton of other reasons, allowed me to lose precious skills like knowing how to talk to people.  Even worse it provided me an escape away from dealing with problems with my marriage and addressing the stresses that come from having 3 children on the autism spectrum.

The last 2 years of my life have been the most awakening, transformative, and harrowing of my life.  Things came to a boiling over point in our marriage.  We realized we were speeding uncontrolled towards a cliff that would end what we had built together.  So we went to therapy together.  We learned new skills and we got tools to help us deal with our own individual problems that caused us not to communicate.  Over and over we would have discussions about our problems.  Often times it took me weeks to be able to answer some of her questions.  It took so long because I was so unaccustomed to thinking deeply about anything other than escaping into my perfect world.

Thankfully I no longer take weeks to answer questions.  I can even take as little as 30 seconds now to give an answer about what is going on inside my broken mind.  Through all this growth period I realized I no longer want to escape into myself and play a game.  The movie reference ‘Game over man. Game over!’ applies to me now.  I very rarely play any kind of video game.  It simply does not offer me any kind satisfaction or fun.  Now I have a new escape as I’m sure nobody will be surprised to learn its fly fishing.  I know that doesn’t sound like I learned anything.  But fishing is a very healthy hobby for me.  It gets me out and gives my body exercise I never got playing a game.  It allows me to calm my mind and think just by being surrounded by the beauty of nature.  I get a real thrill catching a fish and admiring the beauty of the animal before I release it back to the waters or into my frying pan.

I still love my good memories of the games I played and recognize the pivotal role they played in developing my career. I do not plan on ever going back and playing video games.  So now it really is GAME OVER.

The Meat Grinder

Is life is a classroom, a playground, or an adventure?  I think life can be a great many things to people and even multiple things at once.  There can be so many experiences which bring happiness and joy, such as the birth of a child, catching a big fish, making love with your special someone...  I have striven to always look at the beautiful things in life.  To seek wisdom in the journey.  To find comfort and focus in a path laid out by others.

I've walked this path with great enthusiasm.  Found beauty in the uniqueness of my situation.  Many lessons have been handed down to me of what to expect and how to handle what I may find on my journey.  My oldest son didn't talk till he was five.  For the most part he only made a sound that was like an elongated E.  It was very hard for me to see my son as anything other than a late starter.  Nothing in my background taught me how to handle this.  The only thing I knew was how to love.  As the years have gone by his speech has developed at a rapid pace.  Now there are times he won't
stop talking.

During those early years it was almost impossible for us to know what he wanted.  He could never tell us if he was hungry.  He couldn't let us know that normal, everyday sounds caused him pain.  I had to learn through trial and error.  Frustration was the dominant theme through this process as I learned to help my son grow.

The contrast between the beautifully laid out path I expected, along with its predictable milestones, and what my life turned out to be has been a hard one to see and accept.  Just like those early years of learning to communicate, there were many hard lessons learned through pain.  My life has been filled with many experiences that, like my son’s speech, have been filled with things that just don't fit in with expectations set by the predictable path.

Instead, I have found that I'm not actually on a path that has clearly marked signs of where to go next and what to do when you get there.  I have discovered that my journey is more like passing through a meat grinder.  I have been placed in the top with the happy expectation that I know what awaits me at the end.  Never did I know that, in passing through the grinder, I would be aware of the pain as I got broken down and ground into meat and forced through an opening to be put on a plate.  Often I turned myself over to the Lord asking thing like how do I survive?  Why does it have to hurt so much?  What do I do now that I've been turned into something else?

Never did I receive any answers, except when the next difficulty came.  I discovered then that the answer was the same as the first: I was to be placed back up on the meat grinder to go through it all over again.  Through each turn of the crank, I get to feel as if I'm being ripped apart, and all the while I keep casting my eyes about for relief looking for answers and help, looking for a lifeline.  But it never came.  The only “answer” to be had was that I get to go through to be ground again.  Once back on the plate and out of the grinder, I thank my Lord for my pain as a good boy should.  Yet never have I once felt the comforting warmth of a job well done.  Over and over again, for me, this grinding process repeats without a word from up on high.

Then finally one day I realized that I'm broken beyond use.  No answers for me, no comfort to be found.  It seems as if I've been forgotten and left to rot.  It's up to me to pick myself up as there is not even the butcher left to throw me away.  Thanks to the meat grinder, I've learned there are no answers to why I've been forgotten.   I'm too ripped apart to hear anything that might be said anyway.

Self-care

I want to talk about a subject that has only recently become important in my life.  In fact, it has been a foreign concept to me.  This concept I never witnessed in my upbringing; my spiritual training completely left this out of my education – actually, it taught the opposite.  This concept is so basic that if you don't practice it, you cause damage to yourself and impact your ability to be a healthy, well-balanced person.  I'm talking about the concept of self-care.

I want to start with what I was taught about this subject…Oh right, I wasn't even aware of this concept until recently.  I grew up in the Mormon church - that’s no secret.  There are wonderful principles taught that really can contribute to a healthy spiritual life.  I served a mission, as many LDS folk do.  So, if you served a mission, this story will be familiar.  It goes something like this:  A President of the church as a young man served a mission.  He was having a really hard time and had lots of doubts.  He wrote home about his situation and his Dad wrote him back and said this:

 It said, “Dear Gordon, I have your recent letter. I have only one suggestion: forget yourself and go to work.”

Earlier that morning during scripture study, Elder Hinckley had read in the Bible, “Whosoever will save his life shall lose it; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the gospel’s, the same shall save it.”

As a missionary, this concept is pounded into you over and over again.  It becomes such an ingrained part of who you are as a missionary that it carries over to the rest of your life.  You often think that if you can't totally forget who you are, you are a bad missionary and cannot completely function as a missionary.  Indeed, you spend so much energy shoving down thoughts of your own wellbeing it can cause you to feel deeply shameful about having your own wants and needs.

Other lessons I learned growing up go something like this:  A selfless person is one who is more concerned about the happiness and well-being of another than about his or her own convenience or comfort; one who is willing to serve another when it is neither sought for nor appreciated; or, one who is willing to serve even those whom he or she dislikes. A selfless person displays a willingness to sacrifice, a willingness to purge from his or her mind and heart personal wants, needs, and feelings. Instead of reaching for and requiring praise and recognition for himself (or gratification of his or her own wants), the selfless person will meet these very human needs for others…

There is another word that sounds almost like the one we have been using. However, it is an ugly word. It describes a characteristic of satanic proportions. We will not say much of this word, for it is not pleasant to think about, and we don’t like to use it. The word is selfish… Selfishness is the great unknown sin. No selfish person has ever thought himself to be selfish.

Subsequently, I grew up thinking that if I did anything selfish, I was sinning.  These concepts are taught repeatedly.  I do understand what was trying to be taught in these types of lessons.  It is a healthy and necessary part of life to serve others.  It is a great, rewarding experience to be part of something bigger than yourself.  However, this principle was often taught with the words described above: “Satanic proportions”, “ugly”, and “selfish”.  That does something to the underlying way you think.

I have a very heavy load in life - many may know what I refer to.  There are so many things that I have to work with and endure that most people can't understand what it's like.  I followed exactly what I was taught to do.  I buried myself.  I buried it so deep I took no effort to care for myself.  I allowed a part of myself to die.  And the effect it has had on my life has broken me.  There are so many things I have missed out on in life because I was taught to be 100% selfless.  I even missed out on things like knowing how to communicate with my spouse.  Being able to speak up for myself and emphasize what I want.

Right now I find myself broken down in a lonely, desolate pit.  I'm having to learn new concepts such as taking care of myself.  I'm having to take a hard, long look at things and allow myself to feel things long buried and killed off.

So, what exactly is self-care?  Here are 2 quotes I dug up out of the internet. 

"One of the greatest lessons I'm learning (and yes, I am still learning it) is that rest is not sin.  Taking a break doesn't mean you're lazy or that you're not as valuable.  Catching your breath now and then doesn't mean you're not carrying your load, or that you are somehow less than committed to your church, your company, or your calling.  It was (and is) a hard-learned lesson."

"Self-care and self-respect go hand-in-hand. It’s not about putting yourself above all others, but rather it’s simply not neglecting yourself and your needs. In other words, you matter too! We always say you can’t pour from an empty cup, and the same is true for dads. All of the duties and responsibilities involved in being a husband and father leave little time for hard-working men to take time to properly care for themselves, and dads, like moms, often sacrifice sleep, exercise, nutrition, and hobbies for their families."

My wife tried to get me to understand the concept of taking care of myself, but it was such a foreign concept to me that I had no idea what she was talking about.  She even forced me into what I now do for my own self fulfilment.  She just started buying me fishing stuff.  She is now my enabler.  I get to go out and do something strictly for my own happiness.  I don't share it with the family, however I would love to.  In the beginning I felt shame and was self-conscious because, in my mind, I wasn't measuring up to the totally selfless father figure I was taught I was supposed to be.  It took a near total collapse of my mental health to get to a point where I can allow myself to question how I view life.

Now I look forward to going out by myself and fishing.  It gives me an opportunity to think.  I go to some of the most beautiful forests and mountains that God has created.  Just being outside in nature is a form of meditation for me.  It helps me organize my chaotic thoughts and emotions.  It helps me face my problems and find solutions and deal with them in a healthy manner.  It is exercise, too!  Sure, it won't make me buff, nor will I win an Iron Man competition, but fishing is a hell of a lot of fun.

So, if nobody ever taught you this concept as well, I give you full permission to go out and have fun.  It’s ok!  There is nothing wrong with it.  It is NOT a sin.  It is necessary for your own capacity to be selfless and help other people.