For Days When Your Best is Nowhere Near Enough...

A beloved professor of mine once pointed out an interesting principle in human terminology. The phrase "Do your best" seems to have a skewed meaning. Said professor admitted that when he was a kid, and his parents would tell him, "do your best" he always knew that what they really meant was "do THE best".

"So which is it, that seems like a pretty crucial conjunction!"...

There is a world of difference between doing ones best and doing (or being) the best. Take, for example, the following (made up) scenario:

Timmy was SO excited for his first day of Kindergarten. He had watched so many of his older brothers and sisters go to school and come home toting their little backpacks brimming over with intriguingly colored pieces of paper, chewed up pencils, dime store calculators, and "Good Job" sticker plastered homework assignments. Now it was his turn to shine.

"Good luck, honey" Timmy's mother said with a perfect smile. "Now remember, whatever happens, just do your best!"

Timmy wanted very hard to please his mother, so he toddled into the classroom, walked promptly over to the shelf, pulled down a grammar book and proceeded to pour over its pages, thus simultaneously learning how to read and write properly in one fell swoop! But that was just before the first recess! Surely we can expect more than just this simple task from our little protagonist! When he reentered the classroom after having mastered the games of kickball, t-ball, tether ball, and foursquare all in fifteen minutes, he pulled a book of elementary mathematics off of the shelf, and used his newly acquired reading skills to hone his math skills, until he had conjured up a fairly sophisticated (if not world changing) modified quantum model of the atom. Imagine how proud little Timmy was hanging THAT up on the fridge. Surely little Timmy had done his best, and the world all was as it should be.

So many people think that if this does not describe their first day of kindergarten, they must not have done their best. What about a less dramatic scenario, that takes my argument to a different level.

Sally was nervous for her first day of school, but she pulled the shoulder straps of her pink barbie backpack tightly over her shoulders, nodded when her mother yelled "do your best", and marched into the classroom. That day, poor Sally broke four pencils trying to learn to write the letter "A", suffocated the class pet fish, and spilled the contents of her pencil box all over the room. But that was only before the first recess! After fifteen minutes made up of 1.2 seconds of jump roping, .8 seconds of falling, and 14 minutes and 58 seconds of nursing a scraped knee, Sally reentered the room determined to make the most of the next few hours. She made the most of them all right! Those few after-recess hours were more than enough time to be laughed at for singing off-key, dropping the chalk under the teacher's desk while trying to write the never-to-be-mastered letter "A" on the blackboard, and accidentally erasing part of Timmy's great quantum equation that was already on its way to winning the Nobel Prize. (Luckily for Sally, Timmy already had the equation memorized before he wrote it out, so it was no problem for him to write it up again. He wasn't even mad! The very picture of magnanimity!)

So! That means that one of the children did their best and the other didn't, right? I mean, COME ON!!! How can both of the children have done their best, when one graduated from seven Universities with honorary PhD's four days later, and the other finally learned to recognize the letter "A" in the same amount of time? Open and closed case...

Unfortunately, life is not that simple. The tricky thing with humane statements such as, "do the best with what you have" or "not everyone's best is the same" is that such statements carry such profoundly complicated truths in them that we will never fully understand their meaning in this life.

Both of the children may or may not have done their best. What if Timmy purposely left some of the information out of his model because he wanted to be able to claim the prize next year as well. OR what if Sally really did know how to write the letter A all along and she was only selfishly trying to get attention from teacher?

BUT, what if Timmy has an inferiority complex because his older brother has won 32 Nobel prizes, and his mother says that he cannot eat until he gets at least 2? What if Sally is severely neglected at home and does not know proper ways to get attention from others without acting out?

You see, it's even more complicated than what we think! Not only is everyone's best different, but there are not surefire ways of telling from the outside what someone's best is.

To take it even further, an individual's best may vary from day to day. Some days I get to the library first thing and read several chapters and take several quizzes before class. I then go to six hours straight of classes with no breaks, take meticulous notes, and make insightful comments. After that, I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in the library reading assignments, pouring over Spanish poetry and working on research for a long paper. I then go home, eat a healthy dinner, do Yoga, read my scriptures, write in my journal, get ready for bed, send a pick-me-up text to a friend who is having a bad day, and lights out. Wow, I must have done my best that day!

But wait! That's not the end of the story... you say that the next day I am overcome by a bout of depression due to some extenuating circumstances in my life, and I can't get out of bed? Some of my hormones have gone out of whack, and I can't stop sleeping? When I do get up, the most I can do is crawl to the couch and watch movies for the rest of the day, not replying to any e-mails of class-mates asking for help on an assignment? Surely this day I did not do my best. By all accounts, I was an utter failure... but then, what if I did?

I believe in my heart of hearts, that when all is said and done, and this life is over, that we will all be greatly astounded at how many things we had working against us. Physical, emotional, psychological, economical, social factors all fighting for their right to be troublesome against us everyday. In general, do good. If you've made mistakes fix them, make goals, press forward, pray hard, love hard, live life to the fullest... when you can.

But when days come when you're not good enough (as they undoubtedly will), when doing your best means that you open your eyes just ONCE and look upward to the ceiling and mumble, "I am not enough today, make it OK, please!" When that has happened, and your inability to be effective in the world that day has been swallowed up in the love of Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, pull together all that you have and ask, "Lord, how is it done?" (Enos 1:7). And then when you have heard him say, "
Because of thy faith in Christ…wherefore, go to, thy faith hath made thee whole" (Enos 1:8) go to, and do good, and keep fighting, keep praying, keep loving against odds, and hoping against hope-- and never forget that "because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, [you] may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of [your life] will exceed [your] grandest expectations." (Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “The Infinite Power of Hope,” Ensign, Nov 2008, 21–24)

Stop judging yourself and others. Trust that God loves everyone, and that everything will turn out, because it will.


And There I Knew that...Everything Would be Alright...

Anyone reading this blog thus far (sadly I have not written nearly as often as I was supposed to) will undoubtedly notice that there are several references made to the music of Death Cab for Cutie. This may come as no surprise to people who know me, and especially to those who know that of the 22 songs that are currently on the "soundtrack of my life" (that has yet to be given a proper title) 4 of them are Death Cab songs. What can I say? I appreciate when artists (as all musicians seem to be called nowadays) actually have something of art in their music.
But I must apologize, this post is not about the band or its music as much as it is about a thought that a line from one of their songs sparked in me and has continued to burn in the back of my mind for some weeks now.
The song is "Grapevine Fires" and the line "And there I knew that it would be alright, that everything would be alright" is used in the song to describe the moment in which seeing something outside of ourselves shows us that things are going to turn out in our own lives. In the song, it is a specific image and a specific situation; but that line has ignited a thought process in my mind that seems to crop up in moments of severe frustration.
For example, This morning. I was walking to my Latin American Literature class in which I knew that Dr. Cluff was going to be giving an exam. As I was walking, I was feeling a feeling that can best be described as incredibly flustered. The day had begun a little too early in order to allow for more study time, and it seemed as though not much had gone according to plan. As I walked, I tried to review the last few notes I had scribbled on the back of a sheet of paper (which notes I had been studying all throughout the Physical Science lecture, instead of listening to poor Dr. Allred!). The information seemed to be being blocked by the frustration I was feeling, and the things I was yelling to myself inside of my head: "Jose Hernandez, NOT Fernandez! Get it straight, Katie!". A line of black ink on my leg was the outward manifestation of an inner throbbing, resulting from an encounter with an unruly and uncapped pen. Even better than that, one section of my hair was a little shorter and frizzier than it should have been, due to an unfortunate hair dryer incident while I had been trying to hurry.
With all of these thoughts rattling around in my head--the exam that was beginning in five minutes, the damaged hair, the drawn-on leg-- came an overarching dread of the future, and the questions 'why hurry to class? Why take classes at all? Why are you graduating so fast? What are you moving on to? What do you think you're accomplishing with all of this cramming and rushing?" I was trying to force the questions down with more noble thoughts, but not much was helping. I rushed past the other students in the courtyard of the JFSB, hoping that nobody noticed the ink mark, the frazzled hair, the mismatched jewelry combo, the fact that I hadn't shaved my legs in 24 hours, or that my shirt was too big for me. I was hoping that it would not permanently cripple my grade to not yet have memorized the information scribbled on the study guide, and that I would be able to write clear essays in Spanish.
Then something made me look up. I don't remember now what it was. It may well have had something to do with cursing the sun for being so hot, or wishing that it were raining, or wondering if a bird was about to poop on my head, since such a happening really would have added to the moment. As I looked, instead of seeing a bird, I saw a cloud. The cloud was fluffy and white, and it would not bring the rain I wished for-- but the cloud was moving; moving mindlessly past the deep blue of the sky. I couldn't help but think about all of the days that make up a life, and how many of those days are filled with things--THINGS!!! And how many times a day do I think about just enjoying? It was a beautiful cloud, and a beautiful sky, and there I knew it would be alright, that everything would be alright.
I've often thought about the advice to "simplify" our lives. We are always being told to simplify. Well, what happens when life can't be simplified? I am not currently participating in any activities that aren't fundamental to my life, so there isn't really much I can cut out. Maybe simplifying doesn't always mean 'cut things out', maybe sometimes it means 'look at something simple and revel in its beauty.'
Drop your guard for one moment, and let the simplicity of something outside of you show you that everything will be alright.