A Helpful Challenge 

First of all, I don’t know why I didn’t share this video before. Watch it! Special feelings will arise in your heart. 

For about a month now, I’ve taken up a challenge put forth by a leader in my church. I have been reading and marking every verse in scriptures in connection with Jesus Christ. I have noticed a change in my faith. I feel I know more about Jesus Christ. I feel I am not so caught in the cross-winds of confusion and doubt as I once was. I feel the literalness of His mission as our Savior. I have a greater assurance that I am Heavenly Father’s child and that obeying Him is really the only way to peace and joy. I know that Jesus Christ spent His whole life setting the perfect example for us. 

If you like, you can find the list of scriptures here.

What is this doing on an MBTI blog? Well, I’m not even sure myself! I just wanted to share it. It’s something that makes me happier. 


Memory Lane

My memory: I don’t remember anything distinctly; apparitions of certain situations coupled with their vague impressions are all that I can truly recall. This subject matter came to mind while I was watching To Kill A Mockingbird. The movie set me thinking of how my memory works. It set me wondering about my childhood, and as a result I have a bit of a stream of thought for a post. 

When I think of the actual word “memory” a picture comes to mind of a sidewalk with a lamp on its curb that is shining, even through the soft golden glow of late afternoon. Trees line the sidewalk and scatter their faded leaves in the gentle breeze. The whole sidewalk is carpeted with fallen leaves. I am explaining this vividly, but when it flashes before my mind’s eye I am struck by the impressions it leaves. I feel in that simple image the lost tangency of life that makes a memory a memory, and the faded yet compelling quality of recalling a moment in time gone by. Now that I share this image I understand it better. The afternoon setting resplendent with a gentle glow represents the appeal of memories. The shining lamp embodies the truth (light) that can emanate from these “data files”. The trees and the falling leaves are contradictory symbolism. The trees represent the bit of life left behind in a memory and the decaying, falling leaves represent the termination of that bit of life for the person who is recalling the instance. Why this all takes place on a sidewalk I am not sure. Perhaps it represents the transient nature of a memory? It is not meant to be lived in, but to be passed by, as one traverses a sidewalk. 

When I try and remember my childhood I can see only a blur of innocence and curiosity. Nothing distinct. I could recall only a few things in detail, but the rest are impressions and sometimes disillusions. Whatever childhood is though, it seems worth going back to, or at least according to my memory. 

My sister was married last Saturday. There was a beautiful reception party, the stuff dreams are made of, and an experience one wishes to relive a thousand times. The twinkly lights and flowers that were scattered across our yard for the party were something I wanted to be apart of for forever it seemed. Then the happiness that shone in my family’s faces as we were all dancing pulled at me as well. I wanted to live in this memory. And now when I remember that night I feel that all the joy and beauty has fused into a radiant….a radiant…impression? An Image? An emotion? It is so ambiguous I can not find an accurate word. 

My memory is living proof that my third function (Introverted Sensing) is not overly developed, else I would pay greater attention to detail. Then past events wouldn’t be confined to nebulous impressions…or images….or perhaps emotions? The method (extroverted intuition) in which I collect data is naturally prone to assigning different metaphysical interpretations  to situations. 

So there’s my ponderation. How are you powers of recollection? Do you remember little details in a situation or are you more concerned with remembering how you felt? Please comment! 
Image Credit

A Road Often Traveled

Image Credit

I hop onto my bike. I feel a strange vigor in my legs as I set my feet against the pedals. The road passes smoothly beneath me. The wind rushes in my ears. I am speeding, speeding away….the road winds before me in an alluring manner. It’s exhilarating! Haha! I feel I own the road! I am alive and can move and breath………and then the road stops! Ah, where has it gone? A blank space, no sky, no trees, no horizon lies before the wheel of my bike……

Well then, I shall turn. With some difficulty I pull my bike around and start off in the other direction. I struggle to keep my balance; I can’t seem to navigate and drive smoothly at the same time. The road is no longer smooth…….But wait, there’s a turn, a turn of the road that is smooth and sloped. I press my strength into the pedals and escape that vacuous road.

There I go again, cruising swiftly down the turn in the road. I really am going places! And just as I feel on top of things I pull the brake and come to a screeching halt. Dust flurries in little clouds at my feet. There is something wrong. The road is too familiar. Why, there–there’s no difference at all to the ease that was in my first futile road! 

A recursive journey that to all appearances would have proved a worthwhile endeavor. Ah well. Such are the roads my mind will traverse for fleeting moments. 

The World Is Mine- A Sabbath Poem (not by me) 

Today on a bus, I saw a lovely girl with silken hair 

I envied her, she seemed so gay, and I wished I was so fair 

When suddenly she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the isle 

O God, forgive me when I whine. 

I have two legs, the world is mine 

And then I stopped to buy some sweets 

The lad who sold them had such charm 

I talked with him, he seemed so calm, and if I were late it would do no harm, 

And as I left he said to me “I thank you, you have been so kind” 

It’s nice to talk with folks like you. You see, I’m blind 

O God forgive me when I whine.

 I have two eyes, the world is mine 

Later walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of blue 

He stood and watched the others play; it seemed he knew not what to do 

I stopped a moment, then I said, why don’t you join the others dear” 

He looked ahead without a word, and then I knew he could not hear 

O God forgive me when I whine 

I have two ears, the world is mine 

With legs to take me where I’ll go 

With eyes to see the sunsets glow 

With ears to ear what I would know 

O God forgive me when I whine 

I’m blessed, indeed, the world is mine

Author Unknown

A Try At Poetry

It’s a well known fact that nearly every INFP feels an urgent need to create soulful art. This can appear in any form, be it writing, painting, music, or poetry. I’ve already dabbled in everything but poetry, so I shall try my hand at it. 

Please remember this is a first attempt. Because this is a first attempt, and because the real meaning of this poem may remain inarticulate, I am forced to provide an explanation of it.

I love the ocean. But I do not know why! Everyone loves the ocean.  It’s more of that people are pulled to the sea. But why?

A few nights ago I theorized that the pull of the sea comes from it being a life like form. It has a soul, but an impenetrable one. Staring at the sea is so compelling because it’s like staring into a mirror, staring at somebody. It’s you, but not quite you. You try to understand your reflection but you can’t.

 Anyway, this could all be mumbo-jumbo, so bear with me:


What beckons, pulls man to land’s end?
Does he think the roaring, coursing foam will prove his friend?

With one roll the living waters can crush his life,

But he traverses the churning, briny strife. 

He nearly worships the glistening curl,

The shifting, shining, emerald whirl.

And there are sun-gleaming paths he carves upon the ocean;

He has an insoluble thirst for the elusive horizon.

Oft times the waters pool about his feet, laced with pearly foam,

And he catches sight of a face, quivering in the waters, staring into his own.

Himself he sees inlaid in the shimmering shallows.

A wave rolls in and behind it a mountainous mass of blue follows.

He sees wave upon wave flowing, an interminable line of white crest:

The thoughts of the sea are kindly and fierce, all at the sea’s own behest. 

Moments pass by and each wave, or thought, is different 

He thinks and differs; the depth of his mind his infinite.

Before him stretches the impenetrable soul of the sea,

A capacity so deep and mysterious as his own soul is wont to be. 

The salty wind brushes his face: the sigh of existence from the sentient expanse.

And then he sees it, the inextricable lure of the sea in one glance. 

It’s as gazing into a mirror. As poignant, capturing, yet as futile. 

For he cannot even understand the emotions behind his smile. 

But perhaps this is only a glimmer of understanding that touches his eyes 

And he has the true pull of the sea yet to realize. 

Image is not mine. 


The concrete and the imagined. I find I have a difficult time understanding this paradox of the living mind. 

Sometimes I must shake my head to scatter into oblivion the shades of illusions that seem to gain control over my thoughts. And sometimes to look around at my family and my home and the sky above is to assure me that there is a realm far safer in its concreteness than the cloud of illusions that I so easily adopt as reality. 

I think I use my imagination too much. At times the real and unreal flow together in a deceptively benign thought tapestry. It’s good to get around my brothers and sisters and talk about concrete things. 

I believe this stuff is called doubt. Or deception. At any rate, it is something that I should not let master my mind.

Quoth Personality Junkie: 

While NPs’ Ti or Fi pushes for closure, their Ne counters by rallying for more options and alternatives. In many cases, Ne wins out, interjecting enough new or contradictory information to keep NPs in a state of perpetual openness or indecision. At times, this can serve as a source of frustration for NPs, making it difficult for them to make decisions or draw firm conclusions.

There. That’s my problem. But to all problems there are solutions, so I do not worry (not too much, at least).  I try focusing on what is true

That’s easily done (sometimes not) by fervently praying to be blessed with a discerning mind. But heavenly help does not flow so freely without the proper action. So I try to do things that will invite the Holy Ghost to guide me to the truth of things.  

Moroni 10:4-5  

…if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he [Heavenly Father] will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost…..And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.


Very handy. But still, there are many things I must do to be worthy of this Heavenly helper. 

Alma 34:36

 ….the Lord hath said he dwelleth not in unholy temples, but in the hearts of the righteous doth he dwell…..

Simply put, I must be as Christ is if I expect the spiritual strength and discernment required to combat the mists of doubt and deception that are so characteristic of this mortal journey.