The Sincerest Form of Flattery

I was looking for an old set of scriptures with some notes in the back, and stumbled across this:

It made me smile inside, reminding me of a sweet, humbling experience that happened about 20 years ago:

When our daughter (now almost 23) was a toddler, I caught her scribbling all over the inside covers of my leather scriptures. She had been extremely intentional and diligent--using a combination of ballpoint pen and two different markers. (See proof above). I was mildly horrified.

"Sweetie, those are very special books, those are my scriptures! Let's not draw in there!" I said, gently taking the books and the pens away and handing her a sheet of paper.

Her response stopped me, stunned.

"But I want to be like you, Mommy. I'm marking my scriptures!"

I had no idea she was watching me....paying any attention at all to what I was doing when I could steal a quiet moment or two.

I will always think of her sweet response whenever I see those "marks" on this book. There are plenty of behaviors our daughter could have chosen to imitate, many of them unattractive and embarrassing, or involving bad words, but I'm so grateful that at that moment she was mimicking something actually worthy of imitation—studying the scriptures.

She didn't know that I was searching for answers and inspiration, singling out specific verses, making notes in the margins about what struck me as meaningful and powerful. But she saw me with these books, and an array of pens, every day. And she must have felt it was something good that she wanted to do too.

That was one of those moments when I realized I was doing at least one thing right.

If you're interested —like our daughter was — in what I do every day with those books and those pens, head on over to Feasting on Small Plates, where I have an entire blog dedicated to my personal scripture study and sharing the insights and truths I mine there. I'd love to hear your insights too.

She forgot my biggest emotion! (I swear this is a thing.)

A few weeks ago we heard our dear friend and clinical psychologist Julie De Azevedo Hanks speak at an arts retreat. Her entire presentation was engaging and captivating, and there's more I want to explore here, but for now I can't stop thinking about this one concept: the difference between primary and secondary emotions.

Her definition is so simple:

The primary emotion is what you feel FIRST.
The secondary emotion is what you feel MOST.

She gave several examples, such as an initial primary emotion of fear, followed by a stronger secondary emotion of anger. Loneliness, followed by a stronger secondary emotion of sadness.

But I think I have only one secondary emotion (this one wasn't on her list, but it has to be an emotion, because it works in the exact same way):

Primary emotion: Sad (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)

Primary emotion: Afraid (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)

Primary emotion: Ashamed (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)

Primary emotion: Lonely (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)

Primary emotion: Bored (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)

Primary emotion: Happy (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)

Primary emotion: Sleepy (what I feel first)
My secondary emotion: Hungry (what I feel most)


Are you seeing a pattern emerge?
I am clearly an emotional eater. Especially when it comes to comfort foods.
No wonder I need to lose ten pounds!

QUESTION: Are you an emotional eater?
Do you have a different pattern of experiencing primary and secondary emotions?
I'd love to hear about it.

The Inherent Danger of "I'm Right! You're Wrong!" --Understanding Those With Different Perspectives

Every day I sit at my kitchen window and look out at this patch of scrub oak in our back yard.

One day I was struck by the notion that while all the other scrub oak trees grow with crooked, twisted trunks, there is one tree that stands perfectly straight. So strange. Yet I could see it with my own eyes. There it was. Straight as could be. See it there on the left?

I kept wondering how that one tree managed to grow straight up while all the trees around it grew in every chaotic direction.

Then I walked out in the yard and realized if I looked at the same tree from a different direction, the tree I thought was straight is actually just as crooked as all the rest—it just looked straight because of my point of view. From my kitchen window I was looking at it straight on and couldn't see the directional bend.

I also realized that from the new spot in the yard where I was standing, there was yet another tree that appeared to be perfectly straight, while all the others around them were chaotic and crooked. See it there, just off center in the back?

In fact, from nearly ANY spot in the yard there might be one tree that appears to be straight while all the others are crooked. 

So three different people, standing in three points of the yard, could all be looking at different trees at the same time, and say that THEIR tree is the straight one. They would all be right. And they would all be wrong.

Oh, the lessons from nature! Could it be that all our perceptions are at least partly colored by our perspective and experience? How many ideas are we digging in our heels about, when it might pay to stop and look at the situation from another person's point of view?


QUESTION: What political party might have a helpful perspective you haven't considered? When was the last time you added to your faith by including the perspective of someone from another persuasion?