Bad Fruit, Good Fruit

Two years ago a voice teacher shared a story with me:

"A man visited a foreign country. He wasn't familiar with the customs or the language. Needing groceries, he stopped by a grocery stand on the side of the street and began to pick the best fruit and place it in his basket. The grocer, noticing, approached the man. The grocer said, "You see this ladle? Take this ladle and collect the fruit together: You must learn to take the bad fruit with the good fruit."

Take a moment to let that sink in. Isn't it kind of profound?

"You must learn to take the bad... with the good...."

This won't be a full treatise on the topic, but I do have some thoughts to share.

To be honest, I forgot about this story, and this lesson. Life has a way of reworking us through what we haven't yet learned. Last week was hard; I am still feeling some of the impact. In fact, this semester was rough from start to the upcoming finish. In two weeks I'm just going to breathe and feel grateful it is past because it was a straight out brawl for survival and sanity. However, it was punctuated with transcendent and beautiful experiences, too, I shall never forget. Reflecting on both the "bad" and the "good" (particularly this last week), that story came to my mind again.

Life can never be all good. It just can't. The mere idea of perfection in this life is an illusion. Our talents won't be all good, our hearts won't be all good, and our experiences won't be all good either. For those of us who are creative and want to do something fulfilling with our lives (in one way or another this should speak to all of us), it's unrealistic to expect to never produce something that isn't "good". In fact, often as we learn we have to start in a relatively "bad" place. And then we work on finding ourselves or improving our talents through stages.

Some of the most incredibly successful people I know are people who I would classify as brave and who don't worry too much about distinctions such as "bad" or "good". Not in a fixed way. Or, as my voice teacher taught me that day, "bad" is really just a tool for measuring where I am, or how much more I can still learn. It's a journey. One, for example, that T-Swift has figured out, regardless of what you think of her. She's mastered her art. Those brave people- the ones we all want to be like- don't see "bad" as an obstacle, or a sign that they should give up. They know where they want to go and they see it as a lesson.  Rather, they see the lesson as a guidepost for where they have yet to go, or where they can go next. The brave realize that they get to walk that journey, if they want to.

I've been thinking a lot about that. It's not a walk in the park to be a single parent (generally) AND go to school full-time. Sometimes I feel proud of myself and so brave, and then most of the time it's a train wreck. I have to kind of figure out who I am again and what I really want in my life amidst the chaos, tantrums, sleepless nights, disasters, loneliness, stupid choices, stitches/concussions, poverty, arbitrary deadlines, and hurt. Because it hurts. It hurts to lose to divorce or death, it hurts to give up on dreams that never would come true, and it hurts to watch your children hurt because we can't be everything (and sometimes anything) that they really need.

Speaking of poverty, I think the most toxic kind of poverty is a poverty of mind. Poverty of mind is a lack of faith, vision, or dream. It's not understanding who we are and the opportunities before us. It's not believing in good in the world or in oneself, and feels a lot like settling or giving up. It's always a lie. Material poverty we can escape, but poverty of mind will tear you down. Every. Single. Time. Because "I think, therefore I am."

Recently my ex-husband's grandmother passed away. She was a beautiful person. Actually, she was the kind of person it's hard to believe people can become. She exemplified the virtue of love. At her funeral (last week) many people shared experiences of feeling loved and special because of her actions and attitude. And it was very genuine, exuding from her soul. She was raised in poverty, with a dirt floor and secondhand dresses, yet here on the other end of her life she had abundance materially and spiritually. Her posterity was just one evidence of the beauty within her soul. Mildred often used to say to me, "My mother used to tell me that crossing my arms was a sign of insecurity", because I did it all the time (ehem, I am insecure) and it was funny and sweet, but the lesson I took away from her was, "stand up tall and don't be afraid to be someone." She really was remarkable. She also was a single mother with two kids early in her life because her first husband passed away young. I didn't know that about her, but it has given me pause to consider how she would have chosen to live and mother in my shoes.

One of my favorite things that was said about Mildred is that her life wasn't easy, but she made it happy and beautiful. Her faith was her anchor, and it was hard to dissuade her from her comfort and peace. I have to say that was so true, and is so true. I've heard a lot of criticism towards members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because they seem "blissfully ignorant". I haven't found that to be true of those I know living remarkable lives. They have their sorrows and trials to recount. They are painfully aware of the sorrow and the darkness in the world, but they also recognize the power of seeing the good and refusing to give up. That's what they choose to hold on to and it gives them power. Personally, when I lack vision, I struggle to do much good for myself and my children.

On the other hand, last week I also had an experience with someone on the opposite side of the spectrum who struggles with self-loathing and wasn't pleasant to be around. Out of the mind comes the fruit of life or the poison that chokes it. I won't elaborate here because I don't think it would be fair, and I think we all know someone who is presently choosing the antithesis of joy and faith.

Guys, fear is paralyzing. And failure is only true if we walk away from striving. 

My sweet niece, Alyssa, sent me a video from a popular mom blogger who had also been a single mother at one point in her life. And that mom blogger reminded me not to "settle" for less. The insecurities, the fears, the pain... I should never let those voices be the ones who decide what I am going to do with my life. Really, none of us should. The "bad" is not defining. It's just evidence of having tried. In my scenario, the "bad" is actually a beautiful blessing that can help me weed out those people who don't deserve to be here. The right guy won't be afraid of jumping in to help me on the hard weeks or jumping in to love my children as much as I do. And going to school full-time right now is changing the trajectory of our lives forever, even though it's sometimes harder than I think I can bear. I totally bawled my eyes out listening to her message.

I wanted to take a second here to talk about the pure in heart. Doctrine and Covenants 67:10-11 reads: 

10 And again, verily I say unto you that it is your privilege, and a promise I give unto you that have been ordained unto this ministry, that inasmuch as you strip yourselves from jealousies and fears, and humble yourselves before me, for ye are not sufficiently humble, the veil shall be rent and you shall see me and know that I am—not with the carnal neither natural mind, but with the spiritual.

11 For no man has seen God at any time in the flesh, except quickened by the Spirit of God.

My New Testament professor (Byron Merrill) bore his testimony about this scripture last Tuesday in class, very emotionally. It touched my soul. This is one of the passages in sacred writ that tells us the formula for seeing God and becoming the pure in heart. It stuck with me, and I've been pondering and cherishing these scriptures since. 

What especially strikes me is that fear is tied to a lack of humility. Jealously is a no-brainer for me, but fear? Isn't fear more innocent than that? But, the more I considered, and spent time in my scriptures, the more I understood. Fear is a tool of the adversary, and therefore cannot be innocent and related to humility. When I fear, it's usually because I am not listening to God's message about who I am, who others are, and what I can do. I am not capturing God's vision (sometimes because I don't realize I need to seek it). 

In the New Testament, Christ's ministry is declaring truth to the ancient Israelite nation, and the biggest part of that was boldly declaring who He is to that nation. If I didn't have the knowledge that Christ is my Savior and He was elected for that role, He would seem presumptuous to me, too. I realized this semester that knowing who I am, the talents I have, and the blessings and strengths the Lord has given me is not a vice. These are virtues. Knowing what the Lord wants me to do and what I stand for is a virtue. And being imperfect was really just a tool for keeping us humble, allowing us to learn the truths of eternity, and allowing us agency. Being imperfect allows me to strive or stay complacent. 

I think we all love imperfect people who are brave. We can appreciate their talents and their influence, and we love to see how they continue to grow and achieve success. And, when their brilliance is revealed, it's amazing to marvel at the brilliance of humans. Cherish the bad moments as evidence of times you were brave, and evidence of how you chose to grow. Cherish the bad as an opportunity to learn. And cherish the bad as evidence that there is always more that we get to strive to become. And believe in that forward motion.

My message today is believe in your brilliance, and continue to bravely seek it even when the bad things come. No matter what. Believe in the better things.