Max and nice things

One of my favorite things about living here in Provo has been spending more time with people I love, like Nena and Dave and Max and Rachel. It is wonderful to get to know my siblings (and their spouses) more now that I am a little bit older.

When Max left on his mission, I was 14 or 15, so it's not like we were very tight friends. And then he got back and moved away to college. But now we're both adults (in the technical sense of the word, at least) and living in the same place.

I first moved in about a week before semester started. At that time, Max was jobless, had no classes, and was on a break with Rachel. In other words, he had oodles of time on his hands. That was lucky for me, because he took me and all my stuff to Provo to move in. And then spent a lot of time taking me on runs, to lunch, the temple, to bakeries, and to buy groceries at case lot sales.

By the experience of being so thoroughly cared for, and by the experience of spending time in his car and apartment while he did normal Max-type tasks and errands not related to me, I discovered that for Max, having lots of time available translates to having even more time to focus outward and serve.

We were driving to Microcut one day last week and really enjoying the view of the mountains and sky. We even strayed into meta-enjoyment, which is a technical term that I made up for appreciating how much you're pleased by something. Max supplied this Kurt Vonnegut quote, which I think sums it up quite well: "I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'"

I appreciate my dad for teaching this to us by example through fun activities such as tromping in the mountains and riding on Legacy trail on sublime evenings. I am grateful that for a little while, I get to live so near to my oldest brother and best friend Max, who shows me how to practice this with good speakers, sunsets, spreadsheets, scriptures, and service.

January

Not surprisingly, some homework is suffering at the expense of this writing exercise. I have too many thoughts, so scholastics take the fall while I try to clear my mind. It won't take long, though. My microbiology midterm tomorrow won't wait. 

I'm on the second-floor atrium of the Tanner building; as usual, it's pleasant. A bit echoey. The sounds of running water and the squeaking door above the stairs make a familiar background. It's cloudy out this afternoon, so the ceiling is mostly dull. Yet occasionally, the sun peeks out from the clouds. Its steep angle makes for nice patterns in the shadows of the gridwork under the skylight. 

In paying attention to the noises enough to write about them, I have really noticed for the first time the background air sounds. The Tanner is quite square, so I wonder what makes it so whooshy. 

The girl talking about economics behind me was supposed to have fluffy curly blonde hair. Not in a stereotype way, just in a normal mental image way. I turned around to get something out of my backpack and she is dark haired with a plaid vest on. It's funny that something like that can throw me off so much—I didn't even realize all this listening and person construction was going on until it was wrong and my brain felt surprised. 

This is about as long as I'm able to make this, with class coming up and spreadsheets distracting me. (Spreadsheets are the most dangerous homework pitfall, because I can tell myself it's something productive—yet it's not homework, which has due dates.) I should have done the homework. Ah, well... this setting makes me happy and sometime in the future, I'll be glad I wrote this and get to be back in it.