Thoughts on silliness

Of things deemed "not silly", we have frequent experience. One example is gravity. We don't know how it really works but our experience tells us that it is consistent and will not fail, although there can be no method of making sure. Daily experiences are positively reinforced in their reality and consistency because of their frequency. The experiences of fulfilled promises from God, those that create a testimony, that reinforce the reality of God with it's frequency and personal relevancy, cannot be shared by words just as colors cannot be described by words, they must be experienced. One day of experience may cause faded memory and doubt of experience; with more experiences the mind interprets the experiences as increasingly real and reliable. Priesthood blessings and other such miracles cannot help one to gain a testimony unless experienced by the person, and frequently enough to reinforce their reality. Even so, the interpretation of some events, particularly those of a spiritual nature, are to be done on an individual level, which subjectivity makes it subject to any interpretation. So, a miracle may be seen as pure coincidence. It would seem, and is in accordance with scripture, that greater miracles are experienced by those who display greater faith in God as the creator of those miracles. These miracles would seem much more unusual to one who is not familiar with the workings of God and relies on his own or the world's understanding. Miraculous health recoveries, revelations of clairvoyance, protection from harm or malicious intent that stand up to no scientific or psychological interrogation we can currently present. Stories of great miracles appear in the scriptures, and for many it is easy to identify the incongruence between "reality" and the events of these stories and thus label them "silly". But to experience some of the miracles that do happen in these days that are similar in nature to those of ancient days, one realizes that what was "silly" was just what he had not experienced enough to calculate as practical. A blind man has no experience of color, and has no reason to believe they exist; indeed, his experience would merit labeling the idea of color as "silly". The same goes for the deaf and sound. Those who see and hear are so familiar with such things that the idea of them being silly may sound silly itself; we know them well enough to calculate the wavelength of light they reflect and how to reproduce many of them. The Book of Mormon is something that, were it something in ancient scripture, might seem silly. Yet it exists today as a tangible object. It makes no more sense to suggest that it was written or created by Joseph Smith or those who worked with him. There would be absolutely no incentive to do it, and even then, the idea of someone writing such a book in the relatively difficult conditions and short period of time in which it was written could be deemed a very "silly" idea indeed, except in this case there would be no exterior evidence nor previous experience with which to suppose it otherwise. Yet we have the book, as solid an evidence of God as those who fight against it will likely experience, unless they choose to entertain the idea that the things of God are not "silly" simply because they have not experienced them, while many others give testimony that they have. And it's not hard, you just have to trust in the idea that believing in God is not silly, and take it little by little. Then those things which were silly will begin to happen, and your paradigm will shift. And will continue shifting and increasing. If it were stagnant there would be no progress. Man has constantly shifted his paradigms as he increases in knowledge. "To deny the actuality of miracles on the ground that, because we cannot comprehend the means, the reported results are fictitious, is to arrogate to the human mind the attribute of omniscience, by implying that what man cannot comprehend cannot be, and that therefore he is able to comprehend all that is. The miracles of record in the Gospels are as fully supported by evidence as are many of the historical events which call forth neither protest nor demand for further proof. To the believer in the divinity of Christ, the miracles are sufficiently attested; to the unbeliever they appear but as myths and fables." (James E. Talmage, Jesus the Christ, page 149) The scriptures give clear the invitation to have spiritual experiences: "Now, as I said concerning faith—that it was not a perfect knowledge—even so it is with my words. Ye cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection, any more than faith is a perfect knowledge. But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words." (Alma 32:26,27) Experience dictates to our minds reality. The scriptures tell of experiences, and those who follow the method prescribed in the scriptures testify of similar experiences. Thus it is within our power to experience and know the reality of this deity we call God as described by many different people both ancient and current.

Mystery

I went to the dentist recently to get some fillings. Anticipating that I would continue the recent pattern of exhibiting extreme anxiety over hypodermic needles, I called the office and asked what they had in the way of alleviation of such an issue. They mentioned a topical anesthetic and nitrous oxide, aka laughing gas. I had never tried it before, so I read up on the matter and was placated with the information I learned. When I went to my appointment, which ended up starting an hour after the scheduled time, I came and laid myself on the seat, feeling decently calm (I had gone over the process many times in my head while reminding myself that there was nothing about any part of the process that should produce a fearful response). They administered the topical anesthetic and then gave me a gas mask which I placed over my nose. Interjection: I had a slight fear of this gas, which was similar and different to my fear of needles. I believe the similarity was that a sort of generalization may have taken place between the two conditioned stimuli, needles and sedation, resulting in a shared intrinsic fear. The difference is that I was pretty certain that the syringe contained only novocaine, and only enough to suit the current purposes, whereas the gas was a mysterious unknown, except for the understanding that there was a chance of being over-sedated or suffocating. So, ironically, I was vastly more fearful of the less threatening action than I was of the more threatening one. To continue: I began to breathe through the mask. After about 5 minutes I began to recognize some of the effects I had read about: "tingly", "floaty" feeling, loss of pain sensitivity, and a general feeling of slipping awareness, similar to the effects I had experienced with an anti-anxiety medication for previous injections. Soon I felt that my state of mind was so that I would be unfocused enough on outside events that I would not fear an injection. I was happy about this, and surprised that I could still think clearly but somehow be disconnected with conscious awareness of my physical surroundings. Then, after a few more minutes, I began to feel as if I was suffocating, or that I was not getting enough oxygen. I told the dental assistant this and she mentioned it to the dentist. A few minutes later I noticed very acutely a regression of my mental state back towards normality. I still had a feathery sensation in my legs and arms and a slight feeling of light-headed-ness, but I was just as alert and focused as I had been before the sedation. During this time of regression I became slightly more nervous (due both to my loss of desired mental state and the fear of suffocation) and began to breath deeply and quickly, and the dentist had me perform slow-breathing exercises so that I would not hyperventilate, which apparently I was in danger of doing at the time. When my breathing became stable the dentist and his assistant began discussing the procedure. Then they asked me to open my mouth widely. I thought, certainly this isn't for the injection, thinking that they would first bring the level of nitrous oxide again (i would suppose not to the same level, although I am not sure if any lower level would produce the desired effect). So, to make sure, I asked them if they were presently going to perform the injection, to which they answered in the affirmative. At this point something happened in my mind that I call a mystery, hence the name of the post. There was no argument between two sets of logic. There was nothing except to open or not to open, which meant to receive the hypodermic needle or not to. The mystery is that I had less motivation to receive the needle than I did to reject it. The source of that motivation to reject is a complete mystery to me. But it is far more powerful motivation than anything I've experienced. Kind of like the motivation to reject jumping off a cliff into a pit of fire... you just won't do it willingly. Except with my problem there's not apparent reasoning for it. So I told them I couldn't do it. A return appointment has been made with a different strategy, which will hopefully work, or else it may appear as my next blog post. Anyway that is all about my current post.