Category Archives: Reflections

Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Feelings

In reply to my friend Marci’s comment on her post Thoughts Come Before Emotions I wanted to say a few things about thoughts & emotions…

Emotions-chuck-norris-has-one-emotion-demotivational-poster-1276213510

Yeah, ya know, changing emotions oft begins by changing thoughts. When I think of what I’m grateful for it does the work for me to change the emotion…if it hasn’t gotten out of hand. However, if I’ve been negligent in observing my thoughts, I may need to change some emotions before I can think straight enough for thoughts to take me the rest of the way home.

For example, recall when Indiana Jones’ father teaches him to count backwards from 10 in Hebrew or something like that when he’s mad? Similarly, there’s a cool story of a samurai that I heard recently from a book by a guy named William Ury. The book was The Power of a Positive No. I’ve retold it again as I remember it.

A samurai went to a farmer to whom he had loaned some money. The farmer pleaded for more time, insisting that he would have the money later. The samurai drew his sword and was about to strike him down. The farmer, flinching, quickly told the samurai that he had been learning from a samurai master and that he had learned never to kill a man in anger. To which the samurai responded, “your master is wise. My master taught me the same thing. I will give you one more year at which time I will kill you if you do not have the money.”

The samurai returned home that evening and to his shock, disgust and horror found another samurai in bed with his wife. He drew his sword to slay them both in rage. Then he remembered the farmer’s words. He sheathed his sword and made a loud noise to alert them to his presence.

Upon waking he saw his wife and not a samurai, but his mother dressed in his samurai clothes. “What are you doing?! I almost killed you both!” He raged. To which his wife related how they dressed his mother up so that they’d be safe while he was away if someone came into the house.

So time passed and a year later the samurai returned to the farmer for his money. The farmer greeted him with a smile and offered the original payment plus interest to make up for any inconvenience the delay had caused. The samurai refused and calmly said to the farmer, “Keep your money. You paid your debt long ago.”

At the very least, the moral of the tale is to not act in times of high emotions. I’ve learned recently that the emotional part of the brain, when “hot” disconnects us from our higher reasoning faculties located in our frontal cortex.

When emotions are high, it’s good to calm them with any number of exercises like deep breathing, going for a walk, taking a nap or going for a jog. THEN we can more readily re-engage our thoughts to calm us the rest of the way and change negative feelings to positive.

Last couple thoughts on how emotions can lead to thoughts. I DO believe that there are certain events that can trigger strong emotions without much, if any, thought at all. Think of how you’d respond if you turned around to see a bear mauling your face or a man at the bank with a gun.

Some physiological events can also influence our emotions. Such as hunger, fatigue, pregnancy (hormones) and the like. I know that when I’m not paying attention and I get hungry and “pent-up” from sitting down at a computer all day, I can then easily translate that tension and imbalance in my body into frustration. However, it seems even in that case my thoughts still preceded my frustrated feelings. I just hadn’t been observing them, so it often seems like they’re not there. They were influenced by my body yes, but even then, I can control the way I’m thinking about it. I could think, “wow, this bites, I can’t do anything.” Or I could say, “It seems like my attention power’s worn off. Taking a break right now would be a good thing. I’ll come back when I’m strong again.” And as I observe these connections in me I can start to plan for them so I avoid bringing my body to breaking point.

At present I believe that we can really do lots to keep emotions from ruling our behaviors if we commit to being active observers of our thoughts and the intimate relationship they share with our body & emotions.

I’ve ignored that relationship so much that I’m now finding it difficult to even know how I feel at any given time. As I journal feelings and thoughts that come up, I’m beginning to see more clearly how they are tied together and surprisingly how much say I have in the matter. I’m not a victim.

I posted two comments before the above one that came from a place of meaning for me, so I thought I’d put them here as well. I have added some where I felt clarification was needed.

Comment 1:

Freakin’ brilliant Marci. I’ve been hacking away at understanding what’s going on inside of me for some time now. Recently I’ve grasped firmly onto the idea that my emotions stem from my thoughts.

I was in the garden one day & I started feeling very anxious. I remembered that someone said that I could track backwards when I was feeling this way to see what was going on. So, I decided to test the theory. I stopped and said to myself, “What was I just thinking.” As I began with the last thought I remember thinking I traced backwards and found something completely fascinating, some thoughts & beliefs about myself that I wasn’t even aware I had thought.

Previously, I would have simply let the anxiety build, maybe try to shake it off with a jog or something, but inevitably it would return. So, when I saw the thought that I was thinking it was pretty darn clear why I was feeling anxious. The thought was of needing to email a business associate and that I told him I’d do it yesterday. Another similar thought soon came after that. The thought or rather belief about myself that I had totally missed was that I wasn’t capable of being dependable, that I was letting people down and that reminded me of feelings when I myself had felt let down.

Just wanted to thank you for these thoughts I say one more time, BRILLIANT!

Comment 2:

From my experience they are so closely connected (thoughts and emotions) that sometimes we’re not really sure which came first, the chicken & the egg scenario. However, try a little test and take a feeling whenever it comes and ask yourself, what was I just thinking.

Sometimes I’ve felt that feelings are leading me to thoughts…and that’s definitely true too. We’re never NOT thinking. I was listening to a program recently and it said we have something like 60k thoughts a day. Not sure how THAT was measured, but a missionary couple in the LDS Addiction Recovery Program told me recently that they were in counseling and the therapist said that we are only aware of about 10% of our thoughts. (“BUT” I thought to myself, they all contribute to our choices) Again, not sure how that’s measured, but I think the point is that there are TONS of thoughts going on all the time, in the background, that we’re not even aware of. And if we don’t intentionally examine them and ask “what am I thinking right now?”, being the observer of the thoughts and not the thoughts themselves (because I believe we are much more than our thoughts) then we run the risk of thinking that we’re only thinking what comes to the surface.

I really believe that our minds (thoughts & deep-seeded beliefs) are like icebergs, controlling so much of what we do, similar to our autonomic nervous system. If we had to think of all our body’s millions of processes to stay alive, I’m afraid my planning isn’t that advanced yet. When my to-do list gets past 5 things I run the risk of getting frustrated and not getting stuff done. 🙂 Such it is with our thoughts. Once we learn a behavior and what to think in order to make it occur (which also entails tons of thoughts, conscious to us and not) then it’s like they just become part of our mental autonomic system, guiding us and letting us get on to consciously processing new thoughts.

To be certain emotions do “flavor” our thinking. Just think of when you’re infatuated or in love with someone. It may be clear to others he’s a loser, but when we’re colored with love, it’s all too easy to look past flaws.

That’s my two cents. The bottom line is that we have thoughts that control our emotions and when we start having emotions we tend to ruminate on similar thoughts. New thought on the same “wavelength” start to join the initial ones. And pretty soon it’s not clear what caused what. Either way, I think emotions are a window into our souls. Identify one and you can trace it back to thoughts and beliefs.

Receiving Personal Revelation from General Conference (Audio Post)

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An institute teacher once gave me a great way to receive revelation from General Conference. Ever since I have followed something similar and have been amazed at just how much the Lord has to tell me.

Briefly, the steps are as follows:

  1. Quietly ponder my life & come up with some questions I feel I need answers to
  2. Take the questions, a notepad & ears to hear to Conference
  3. Write down any words or impressions (thoughts or feelings) that stand out to you
  4. As soon as possible, put those into practice

By following this simple, yet powerful method of communining with the Source of all truth & goodness we put ourselves in a possition to receive even more. Ask & ye shall receive. To those that hath, I will give more.

As a sidenote, I was listening to the Secret on CD this morning as I exercised and in its words, though no mention of “God” was made, I knew that the simple method prescribed was a true process:

  1. Ask
  2. Believe
  3. Receive

This morning’s session has already filled me with a great calm and exciting assurance that God is walking with me on my path of life. For that I am grateful. Once I was blind, but now I see. May he sustain that sight for me and you. God bless!

Ryan Mendenhall @kingryanarthur Ryan Mendenhall
4 Steps to Revelation: 1) desire it 2) ask for it 3) listen for it 4) act on it

28 Sep via txt

Richard Dawkins, The Faithless and Then Me

So, over the course of my years hear on earth I’ve experienced good friends and family members falling from the faith of their fathers. I used to hear others share stories of this and felt pretty protected from it. I had powerhouse friends, we were solid. We would occasionally do stupid things, but we weren’t going anywhere. This was how it was and this is how it would always be. I was wrong.

Between the moving I did as a kid, a missionary and a college student I would often part with good people whom I had grown to love deeply. Some I have met again and rejoiced as Alma did when he again met with the Sons of Mosiah after some time apart, “and what added more to his joy, they were still his brethren in the Lord; yea, and they had waxed strong in the knowledge of the truth; for they were men of a sound understanding and they had searched the scriptures diligently, that they might known the world of God” (Alma 17:2). Others I have spoken with in sorrow that their faith had waned when the heat of the sun beat down upon them. While not my decision in the end, I have often wondered, what could I have done more to support them through their trials?

Friend after friend has also shared with me similar stories and it’s very interesting to observe in myself what I’ve see happen in others. It’s that thing that starts to happen when we slowly let slip the values and truths that we hold dear. I once was bold and confident to say that going to church has never really been a problem for me. Then I find myself skipping here and there. I wonder if those that left did the same thing early on, when asked where I was, I made up a plausible excuse for my nonattendance.

What is it that makes us shut down with our peers and our people? Why do we retreat when we need to open up? Perhaps it was my overconfidence supported by statements of loved ones praising my faithfulness that allowed me to think I was above the possibility of personal apostasy. Was it this pride that shielded me from the dangers lurking just below the surface of the calm water. All is NOT well in Zion.

I’m not saying that I’ve left the church, because I haven’t. I am saying however, that I recognize just how easily it can happen.

Masterful and sarcastic atheist Richard Dawkins has put much of his life’s attention into repeatedly attempting to convince his fellow apes that there is no such thing as God. I typically come across his stuff in discussions with a good friend or on the web/video when I’m strong in my faith, but he’s the last person I’d like to meet in a dark ally when I’m wallowing in self-pity about my worth as a human being. He and the faithless like him seem to have little compassion for the struggles those of the faithful, likening religion to an common activity like needle point  or some other quaint hobby. Perhaps his parents were killed by believers who put him in a “Brave New World” like reeducation chamber where he was pumped full of medication and repeatedly told that the earth was flat. That would probably get under my skin as well.

But enough with my character assassination. Mr. Dawkins, I apologize, I don’t like to do that.You just represent to me a much bigger idea that’s tormented man from the beginning. I have absolutely no problems with questions, it’s in our nature to seek to know them, but when cynicism and doubt lead to closing off answers rather then letting them in, I see folly. I think on this point we can agree. It may just be in different contexts. By the way, I love science, my mind is always examining the world around me seeking to understand. So again, no hard feelings? Good, let’s do lunch. My treat.

Others who follow Dawkin’s faithless line of thinking have even compared belief in God to a praying to a luck horseshoe. Aside from the obvious differences here, I can’t help but see these arguments as mirroring the advent of Korihor in the Book of Mormon who said amongst other troubling teachings that the believers were “bound down under a foolish and a vain hope” (Alma 30:13). He calls God nothing more than a fairy tale akin to unicorns or hobgoblins. Will be interesting to see who the emperor is who is not wearing any clothes. (Check out: Countering Korihor’s Philosophy)

To start my babblings a winding down: There are times when our roots run deep and the wind comes, the storm rages on and we stand firm in the faith. There are other times when all it takes is negative thoughtless comment from a fellow saint to shake our very core. Well, let those who bend in the wind to the pressures of daily living, I offer you my faith in a God that lives and loves his children. And when things seem hard to understand, just hold on, call me if you need, the light will come for those who seek.

Firm are the decrees
of God from above

Seeing all, he knows
the necessity of love

But in his wisdom
he allows us to grow

And growth requires patience,
the ability to go slow

So down here in our passions
we worry and fret

Convinced that if God loved us
he’s step in and set

Right all the injustices
we see man do to man

Failing to recognize
God’s perfect plan

And no, it’s not to torture,
to abandon or abuse

But rather to give agency,
our choice to properly use

It’s in this way alone
that our growth can be whole

We take what’s allotted
and devote to it our soul

For you see, in the end
he who finishes ahead

Is he who finds freedom
through God as his head

“My will” delivers one thing –
chains that rightly bind

And “thy will” quite another –
Faith, the power to heal mankind

God bless my hurting friends and family.

May you recognize in your lonely times that God is speaking to us always.

And how true it is that when we draw near unto him that he draws near unto us.

We’re not all so different. I love you all!

~ Ryan

He Watches On

Salt Lake @ Night by benberry

A black cover envelopes the valley
with a warm May eve

A thousand little lights glimmer in the distance
as stars do in clear night skies

So many people are here now,
the branches of many trees growing full

And still,
a loving Father
watches on, involved as ever

~ Ryan Mendenhall

The Story: Isn’t it amazing how music can bring things to life, pull out the brilliant from that which lies hidden right before your face? I parked my car last night and I continued to listen to a beautiful piece on the radio. Several composers were going through my head. The first few notes rang of Ravel. Programmatic, yes, it’s telling a story. No, the string harmonies have a unique taste that’s not French. Hmm, Copland? No, it was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9. Yes, that song has themes of the old song Simple Gifts. I knew the piece and it had moved me before. I finally settled on Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring as I prepared to exit the car.

In an instant my mind switched focus from this little guessing game to the sea of lit glass when I stood from my car and turned around to overlook the valley. Brilliant! The music was like a magnifying glass, opening my vision to a deeper meaning of the image that was spread out before me. Impressions came as words, but not those above, simpler ones, just to capture them like one would catch butterflies with a net. I didn’t want them to get away.

The whole experience lasted not but 3 minutes, but I had seen purpose in those three minutes.

Side note about my guessing game: The song ended and I was right about it being Copland. I was even right about the piece! Brilliant! Guess those music history classes stuck, yeah? After listening to “From the New World” (Symphony No. 9) though, I stand corrected. Dvořák never references simple gifts. Some parts are almost Star Wars-esque and others kind of Fantasia with Mickey as a Wizard-like. Movement 2 is VERY peaceful. See it live and you’ll be so relaxed. They even provide pillows for the concert goers for this part of his symphony. 🙂

Then, this morning, as I listened to some great Celtic music I felt to pull out the words again. I did so and sculpted the above few stanzas. There’s something almost healing in listening and noting what comes to mind. I find it quite therapeutic, quite necessary.

Moving Forward

Back again! This road has changed.
No longer lay the marks
On open country lanes
That once spoke the story of an accident

Familiar streets invite me to turn
I heed & see places I know
Memories long lost surface & surprise
Forgotten scenes play like ten thousand movie reels cut, scattered & taped again

Long furrows carry life to fields of alfalfa
Fed from ditches that form the roads’ edge
Little league soccer conjures my own years on that grass
And a runner passes by…Yes. Yes, I remember those times!

The old school grounds – I walk, I jog, I sprint
One place I pass triggers names. A nearby mule brays
The next moment floods with faces. Two crows call unafraid
Here I am, the future, as a ghost, revisiting my past

So much built me, and this places is but one
Teacher, one time, one lesson, one story
Can I go back? No, it is never for us to do.
But forward I’m propelled by the thrust of these days

It was then that I began to live
And my inclination was to remain
But times changed & experience remained
As I stepped up to higher grounds

So, far away images now scatter my mind –
Pieces of the past, of me, oft unseen.
But I don’t look back for long
I keep moving forward

~ Ryan Mendenhall

May 15, 2010

Here’s how it all went down:

Plain City Soccer Field

I went to see a friend run the Ogden Marathon and ended up traveling some familiar roads to familiar places. I drove into Plain City where I went one year to high school and played soccer. I didn’t know where I was, but one road seemed vaguely familiar and took me past an old friend’s house and to a field where I used to have soccer practice. As I watched the little kids play I recalled a scene there sitting on the grass with some friends. I sat reflecting I my car and a runner with a Fremont shirt passed by…my mind rushed with memories of the runs in high school on those same roads.

My Junior Year High School

I drove away to find the school and traveled for a while on long country roads with a house ever so often and where the roads often turned for no other reason than to follow the ditch. I finally broke down and aided my intuition/memory with a small dose of technology. I texted Google for the address of the school. I was close, had driven right by it and not known. When I came upon it I smiled with a giddiness that I’m sure only made sense to me. I had decided to run that day up in that area…here it was to be, in the same place I had run perhaps a hundred times before. After driving slowly close to  the school to take it all in I parked in the drivers ed area just to the West of the stadium where I had run track as a Silverwolf. I took to that old raceway and remembered the uniforms, the relays, the cheering, the crushes.

Fremont High Foodball Field & Track

I ran off and onto the soccer field, again memories flooded my mind. Sprinting the field the name Rodney Frojker popped into my head, I could see him playing with his knee brace. Tyson Craythorne. Micah Marsden (a name that came later, but I recalled him too). At another point on the grass a scene of a rainy game day flooded my memory as well as getting asked to a dance with Easter Eggs. I had to chuckle when I heard the mule bray. We had a mule when I lived in Hooper, Frank. I then ran over behind the school and along the path that we took to go to the institute.

I then ran out into the neighborhood behind. A hot day. Fields of alfalfa. People mowing, digging in their gardens, watering them. I waved to them, complimented them, etc All were nice. I felt like an apparition, touching, but not affecting their lives. It had been 15 years since I was there before. Amazing! I grabbed my soccer ball and played around a bit then sat on the football field and wrote the above poem. The school was abandoned. It didn’t click at first, but then when I wondered why students weren’t at sports practices I figured school had just gotten out for the year.

When I was done I packed up and headed South on the long road towards Hooper. I remember it being long, but it seemed longer this time. Hitting the T I turned out West. I was already so far west, but Hooper was further. The small country signs, green, white words & border approached and went. I passed Rocky Mountain Jr. High and curved around the road that took me south again. The road numbers started looking familiar and names of kids I used to know popped into my head as I drove by houses, Bingham, Greenwood, then a familiar corner appeared. I wasn’t sure it was my old one, but when I saw the old silos I knew it was the right place.

Miles, Christopherson, Strong. I turned North, that road seemed much smaller. Brody, Coroles, Paulsen the road ended & I went back to go down my old street. Kelso, Gray, OUR HOUSE! Well, I can say that I’m glad it was no longer purple, but it WAS different. The front ditch had been filled in, the tree in which our triangle tree house was no longer there, of course I could see that one coming since I had burnt it down by putting firecrackers in it :). We had a circular driveway and it now only had the west side curve, the other now grass. There were no more stairs, but rather an incline up to the front door, perhaps for a wheelchair? The back yard was fenced off so I couldn’t peek into the backyard filled with memories of the trampoline, Chinese stars at the barn, Shadow, diggin up horse poop, etc

I drove past it slowly as I did the school so I could let it sink in. Harames, Paulsen, the farm where we used to snag boxes of old doughnuts, find tunnels in & play in the big bails of hay, the slew that cut through our block which now seemed but a stream. My how things look different grown up.

I turned around and came back for one more look then turned south at the corner…the roads seem much smaller than they did when I was a kid. I remembered to go around the block was a real commitment! On the next corner I saw our second Hooper house which had also changed colors, no longer blue, but gray, a shade darker than the first house’s color. I turned there to eyeball it too, but there was someone out front mowing so I didn’t get all creepy on her. Byington…I turned around, I didn’t know anyone past that. Again, one more look at the house I kicked a soccer ball through the front window, found out that my sister was diabetic and stayed up all night to complete the school project of building a bridge out of small pieces of balsa wood.

I was now heading east, the direction I often stopped to look while in my front yard juggling the soccer ball because I hadn’t made the team. I got pretty good there. I guess practice does that…420 times I think my top was. I remember breaking 40 in the parking lot of some place in Hooper. But anyhow, I’d watch the mountains change to pink, purple, gold and crimson as the sun set out over the lake in the other direction. It was there I might just have learned to slow down & think, to reflect.

And something random – check out Homestarrunner for a fun high school experience.