Nancy's Musings

Communication is such a weird issue. It's like boundaries (and certainly related to them) in that everybody has different needs and expectations, and they have to be negotiated individually by situation and relationship. For instance, I love writing letters, but one of my best friends is allergic to paper. I only wrote very sparingly (not at all, these days), and I try to be careful. As I've been sick, and because I'm alone for the holiday, I have been thinking about communication. Like when you're really, really hungry and you make a shopping list. Communication can be divided into three different kinds: synchronous, asynchronous, and a weird, middle ground where all the negotiations happen. Synchronous communication is like talking in person, talking on the phone, video calls, help chats, or anytime an awkward pause would be clearly identified by all (neurotypical) parties as awkward. Asynchronous communication includes things like writing letters, writing emails, M...

Dating I'm going to pause for a moment to note that today is Fast Sunday, a monthly holy time for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in which we not only abstain from food and donate to our hunger and poverty fund, but try to draw closer to Jesus and sanctify our time by studying scripture, praying, and meditating. And so naturally, I'm thinking about dating. I am very sorry if my thought detract from your spiritual concentration. I have a theory about what it looks like when a person is really ready to date. It's not even really a theory: more of a hypothesis. I hypothesize three important things that signal that a person is ready to date. I personally think that you should date anyway, whether you're ready or not, because it's fun, and eventually you'll be ready. But just in case you're wondering why it isn't working out: why you aren't getting closer to the people you are...

I am usually very empathetic. But recently, after reading a heartfelt, articulate, and vulnerable post on Facebook, among my first thoughts was, "I'm not like that." It made me begin to wonder about the relationship between empathy and identification. I was not identifying with my friend, even though I felt strong sympathy. Was this a personal failing that might be hurtful in the future? I worry about this. She's fine with or without my attention. She's strong and brilliant, and we're not close enough for my objectivity to be damaging, and so I'm taking this opportunity to look inside myself. On any particular subject, I can divide the world roughly into people who agree or disagree with my opinions. I can divide them into people who have or believe the same information I do, and people who don't. I can divide people into those who have had similar experiences, and those who haven't. It's easy to have empathy for people who are us , but do ...

I know: we're reading the New Testament. I'm such a throwback. I survived the Isaiah chapters only to run straight into this piece of prophecy about the latter days. I'm struggling as I map our current political schism onto the descriptions I read in this chapter partly because I'm reluctant to reverse my thinking about principles that I value strongly, and partly because I think reading it at too material a level is a trap. The Book of Mormon isn't known for its traps, but human thinking is. If we saunter quickly past the verses about pandering churches and religious contention, and some really really important points about wealth and pride, we come to verse sixteen: "Wo unto them that turn aside the just for a thing of naught and revile against that which is good, and say that it is of no worth!" And what I hear is, "wo unto them that get it wrong." There's no overt accusation that people are doing this on purpose - that they (we?) ...

I had a challenging conversation last night with a friend who is a non-practicing Jehovah's Witness. Although she is non-practicing, she is very firmly set in her beliefs, at least on the subject we touched on last night. This rigidity of thought reminded me of a blog post by Michael Austin at By Common Consent . He discusses the need in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to be able to admit that we are wrong. But I came around to this article in a kind of backwards way. A long, long time ago when I was serving my mission in Germany I remember encountering people who were simply not interested in exploring new ideas because their religions offered them everything they wanted, culturally and philosophically. I remember vividly how strange it felt to talk to someone who expressed interest in listening to what we had to say. I didn't trust it. What kind of people could simply abandon what they'd learned all their lives? But I was there to teach and be a cond...

Ecclesiastes is my favorite Old Testament book. I love that it's a puzzle. It gives the shapes of certain things, and leaves you to understand what has been omitted. And in the omissions I can see amazing things. I do not believe everyone sees the same things. But I saw something the other day that you might find interesting. Ecclesiastes is strange sort of text with a fairly comprehensive indictment of mortality. If mortality is everything, then everything is nothing. A fascinating philosophical premise! I quote from the KJV: "What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?" (1:3). "Under the sun" is, according to a footnote, a phrase that comprehends mortality and nothing more. I pondered this question yesterday. Why do we work? "All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing [Netflix, anyone?], nor the ear filled with hearing. The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and ...

I am a structuralist at heart. In oversimplified terms, that means I enjoy finding identical patterns in disparate places. For a long time, I've complained that books and other media published for religious audiences are applauded because of all the things they do not contain. You've heard it, I'm sure. "There's hardly any swearing! There's no sex. There's no violence. There's no homosexuality (problematic in itself). There's no. . ." etc. There's also usually very little plot, conflict, diversity, or meat. Literarily, it's sugar-free cotton candy. Sure, it doesn't have the stuff in it that culturally somebody (probably somebody else. These are decisions that most people outsource) decided is a problem, but it also doesn't contain any sustaining nutrients. When I studied abroad during my Master's program, my tutor carefully explained some differences in grading systems between this country and his. Whereas we here in the U...