Its May 28!

Yup! this is what we woke up to today in Edgemont. Of course just down the hill there is no snow. Please note the flowers on the Mayday and crabapple tree. Not sure if you can see the geraniums in our neighbours flowers boxes. Anne thinks Calgary is the pits. And to think that on Tuesday I got hot playing tennis! Apparently it was 40 with humidex in Ottawa on Thursday. Not sure where I'd rather be.

Memories of Primary

Yesterday at the Stake Relief Society Spring Women’s Conference the Stake Primary President gave a talk about the Articles of Faith and the importance of learning them to help children. Her words brought back wonderful memories of Primary. The first memories I have was of “release time” Primary in grade one in Cardston. I remember holding hands in pairs and walking from the school to the church. It felt like a special outing every week. Singing time was the best! The Chorister taught us “ the Golden Plates” and had the real gold plates there to show us. Of course it was just a homemade replica but I think that I really thought they were genuine. It certainly made an impact on me and I loved that song. “ Tell Me the Stories of Jesus” and “I have Two Little Hands” also made a big impact. It felt so good to be in Primary.

When we moved to Lethbridge when I was seven, we were in Third Ward and met in the 10th Ave Chapel. Primary was on Saturday morning and I would sometime ride my bike there. We lived at 1011-32nd street and I am surprised to see how far it was from the church. I remember being a “Co-Pilot” when I was seven and then being a “Top-Pilot” when I turned eight. That was before CTR’s. I can’t think of the justification of those class names. I think Sunbeams is the only name that survived from that time.

I was very conscious of preparing for baptism and remember learning about Jesus and the many miracles that he performed. I remember learning the names of his disciples and making a play dough replica of a real Jewish house. I still remember the design – how there were flat roofs where laundry was hung and where people could look down on the street. I had never had home made play dough like that and I was excited when my mother made it from a recipe that the Primary teacher had sent home. It seemed magical to watch the flour, salt and water turn into clay. Making the house was a homework assignment and it was fun watching it turn hard like a real clay house.

When we moved to Scandia in the spring of grade 3, my Primary experience was much different. We became members of the Rainier Branch and we met in Alcoma School. There were only about 30 people and I could probably name most of them still. The branch was like a big family. There were only a few young people and so I was so lucky to have a girl my own age, Merle Caldwell. She was the youngest of a big family like me and it was great to go to her house for sleepovers. Her Dad wasn’t a member but her Mom was and it felt like being at home at the Caldwells. I know now that it was likely the Spirit that I felt.

The sisters in the Relief Society were all like other mothers. They had strong testimonies and did what was right. They managed and organized everything and took care of each other and everyone else. They all had lots of responsibilities in the Branch and they never turned down callings. When people were sick we all fasted and prayed. I knew that they were special and real and could be depended on. My mother and my sister Marion were like that and for me, being a woman meant being those things – kind, responsible, dependable, and active in Relief Society. Being a member of the church was really important because other people in the community were different. They excluded us from things and my parents, especially my mother who was shy, didn’t have much to do with them.

Because we were a branch, our meetings were in a block on Sunday. We had Sacrament meeting, Sunday School and then Priesthood/Relief Society and Primary opening exercises. I remember having to wait after the Primary part of over and having fun running around the halls in the school. It was an old style school. You came in the front doors and if you were a teacher or an adult you went up the front stairs. Boys and girls had separate stair ways that went to the coatrooms and bathrooms. If you had a classroom on the boy’s side you couldn’t go down those stairs, you could only go through a door in the hallway down stairs.

I loved Primary music and spent hours practicing the new music that came out as sheet music. We were still using the old turquoise “Children’s Sing” book and the new cool music came out in sheets. Marion was the Primary President and so I got to have all the music. Songs like “I wonder when He comes again” and “When ever I hear the song of a bird” were all new ones. I was the Primary pianist when I was eleven and I remember making so many mistakes because I couldn’t play everything that they would ask for at the last minute. Janice was the pianist in Sacrament Meeting and I was the chorister from the time I was ten. I still have bad habits that I developed from teaching myself how to lead.

One of the best experiences I had in Primary was singing in Stake Conference in a Primary Chorus. We learned and sang the Light Divine. I am sure we sang something else too but I can’t remember what it was. I still love that song because it reminds me of that experience. Linda Tanner Layton’s mother Hazel Tanner was the chorister and I will never forget her. She made it so fun and spiritual. Her enthusiasm and amazingly expressive face kept my attention and held me spell bound. I loved Stake Conference because the talks were so interesting. Those were the days of two sessions – morning and afternoon that everyone went to. We would take a lunch and wait the two hours in between to attend the second session.

The last three years in Primary the boys were separate from the girls. We were called Lihomas that was short for Little Homemakers. Nine year olds were Gaynotes and our symbol was a musical note. Ten year olds were Firelights and our symbol was ….. you guessed it a fire in a fireplace. Eleven year olds were Merryhands….. and yup symbol was a pair of hands holding the New Testament. Our motto was I will bring the light of the gospel into my home by greeting the day with a song, giving joy to others and by serving gladly. In Gaynotes we learned to do cross stitch and did a sampler of the motto. In Firelights we learned to crochet and I made a lace border around a handkerchief. In Merry Hands we were supposed to learn to knit but my Mom could teach me how to cross stitch and crochet but she didn’t know how to knit. Sister Link taught me how but I didn’t learn very well and still can’t do it.

We had a bandlo to put our awards on. A bandlo was a piece of felt (turquoise in colour in this case) that was in the shape of a V that you could hang around your neck. There were requirements of things to learn and when you passed your requirements you got “stuff” to put on your bandlo. There was a pretty round glass picture for each year. There were twelve scriptures to learn each year and for each scripture you got a little rhinestone. There were other requirements that also had glass pictures and rhinestones. I, of course, did all the requirements and I still have my bandlo. I made a cute little pink felt bag for my New Testament and I still have it too.

In our Branch, our Primary lessons were taught by our mothers and of course my mother was my teacher. We never missed our lessons. She would come up to my room and sit on the end of my bed. My room was a gable room that had only enough space to have a dresser and a bed. The closet was so small that the Ella’s and Alice’s would look huge in comparison. I am really grateful for my mother being my teacher. She was shy and didn’t talk about a lot of things, especially personal things like her testimony. In fact I can never remember hearing her bear her testimony. She was not demonstrative or made a big deal out of teaching the gospel. She just lived it really. Being my teacher gave us the opportunity to have teaching moments that we were not likely to have had any other way. She taught me to pray, to use the scriptures and all of the other things about the gospel that you learn in Primary because she was my teacher. She helped me learn scriptures, the Articles of Faith and I got to answer every question. I appreciate her so much for what she did for me.

It was very much because of the experiences that I had in the branch in Rainier and later in Vauxhall that gave me a strong testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. It is this testimony that I attribute all of my blessing to and the joy that life has brought to me.

This is what I found on the internet about the bandlo. I had wanted to post a picture but alas there wasn’t one. I wanted to include it so that I would have a record of it.

The bandlos of the 1960s were similar in spirit but somewhat different in design from earlier versions. Of pale green felt, they bore a more modern house near the point. Class symbols appropriate to the new names of classes were awarded at the beginning of each year. Round photographs a little smaller than an American nickle and covered with glass depicted a girl praying (earned when a girl learned to open and close a meeting using an appropriate prayer format and prayer language), a girl reading the New Testament (earned when a girl could meet requirements for locating scripture verses in the New Testament), wheat (symbolizing the Word of Wisdom) and the priesthood monument on Temple Square (representing the priesthood), after the girl met requirements related to those subjects. Plastic numbers 1-4, 5-9, and 10-13 represented memorization of the Articles of Faith. Rows of rhinestones represented attendance at Primary and memorization of scripture verses. Jewels attached to each class symbol indicated the girl had attended Primary at least 40 times during the year. Jewels glued to the windows of the house represented completion of an article of cross stitch, knitting, and crocheting. Jewels descending from the house represented memorization of the books of the New Testament; recitation of facts about the eight men who wrote the books of the New Testament; and recitation of a story in a girl’s own words about someone in the New Testament who “served gladly.” A white plastic scroll symbolized graduation from Primary.

Crocuses

Ahhhhhh! Spring at last has come to Calgary with 19 degree weather. The crocuses are out in full bloom . They are the first of the flowers on the hill of course. Running this morning I realized there is much to learn from the humble crocus.
1. Crocuses are the first flowers every spring. Taking the risk and setting the trend can be be scary but rewarding too - less competition and more recognition and appreciation.
2. Crocuses seem to love growing together. Hanging together is great. Life is easier when we share the struggles.
3. Crocuses grow up through grass but not crazy thick grass. Being tough is great but there is no point it carrying it to extremes.
4. Crocuses grow best on the sunniest side of the hill. We all should pay attention to staying in the light.
5. Sometimes there are white crocuses in a clump of purple. Even in a family we can afford to be really different from one another.

Memories of Baby Calves

Today during Brother Nelson’s talk on Family History, I began thinking about a blog and what I could write next. I immediately thought of how much I had enjoyed driving through Montana this week and seeing brand new calves with their mothers. I immediately went and down loaded pictures that I have used in this blog. On my return to listen to more of conference, the next speaker related a story about cows and calves.

I really think that humans become more attractive as they grow from babyhood. Cattle are quite the opposite. There is nothing more perfectly adorable than a brand new baby calf. Their coat is soft and clean and wonderful to touch. They are playful and curious and just like human babies, they have a lot to learn. Here are some pictures to show how sweet they can be.



When I was eleven years old my parents had 12 milk cows. Janice and I would take turns going out in the field to bring the cows in for milking. We would sometime walk but I mostly remember riding bareback to bring them to the barn. Sometimes the cows would come into the barn on their own, especially if we were late milking them. The cows liked to be milked to relieve the pressure of full udders. A good dairy cow makes much too much milk to feed her calf. If they were to keep their calves, the calves would get sick with scours and die from too much milk. Scours was kind of like really bad diarrhea.

My mother separated the milk using a cream separator. It was a cool machine that spun the milk around inside a bunch of disks and somehow – magically, the cream came out one spout and the milk the other. Here is a picture. This was a hand one which I remember having but the but the one we used was burgundy coloured and was electric. Mom saved the cream in big buckets in the fridge and sold it in big cans on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. The dairy in Brooks bought it and picked it up at the Post Office in Scandia. I have never seen cream to buy like this cream. It was yellow and so thick you could almost slice it. The milk came out fast from the separated and made thick foam. Our barn cats liked to eat the foam. I thought it was like candy to them.



We bought more calves to feed the extra milk to and so we had to teach the calves how to drink from a bucket. To do this I learned to stand with the calf between my legs and got the calf to suck two of my fingers. Then I would push the calf’s head down into the milk. While still sucking my finger, the calf would drink. Gradually I would take out my fingers. At first the calf would immediately throw its head up looking for my fingers but soon it wouldn’t need fingers and would learn to just drink the milk. The calves never got used to not sucking though. They were like babies and needed to suck. After I fed them I would let them have turns sucking my fingers for a soother. They also would suck each others ears and other parts too yucky to talk about.

Each of the calves had a name. I especially remember Ferdinand . He was a tall lanky Holstein who was especially smart and friendly. When he grew up and became a very tall, large steer, he still remembered being a calf and recognized my mother. He wanted her to pet him and followed her, much to her chagrin. I can still remember my easily frightened mother walking quickly away, waving her hand behind her and yelling, “Ferdinand, GO AWAY!” Here are some pictures of Holstein calves like the ones I fed on a bucket.

In the spring, we would also have to round up the cows and calves on the lease (you can see a picture of the lease on our family room wall) and bring them home for branding and castrating. Cows with calves are very frustrating to drive. The calves are little and get tired and soon fall behind, getting lost from their mothers. The cows would then become upset that they didn’t have their calves and would turn around and come back to find them, smelling each stray calf until they found their own. If a calf got frightened by the horse on the lease, and ran away, it was almost impossible to get them back into the herd. They seemed to have no natural herd instinct and would just keep galloping away. The trick was to get them to stop running.

Our lease was on the west side of the Bow River at Scandia and our farm was about 3 miles away. Part of the way home was along highway 36. The last mile was up a coutry road past a lot of farms and driveways. The first challenge was to get the cows to go onto the bridge. Cows were easier than yearlings. They were like teenagers, with a lot of energy. They were kind of crazy and often just got running, sometimes I thought, just for the fun of it. My Dad would get pretty mad if this happened since they ran off fat and beef on the hoof is sold by the pound.

I had a cow that had been my special calf. I had gone to an auction with my Dad and bought her for $35. I named her Mitzi. She was a Holstein cow but didn’t give very much milk so she got to keep her calves like the beef cows. She was kind of an adventurer cow and an athlete. She liked to crawl through fences and was all in all a free spirit. She was great to have in the herd however because she knew exactly where to go and was always at the front of the herd. She never worried about her calf. Her calves just had to keep up. As soon as we let the gate open she would head right for the bridge and straight on home. She made all the right turns, never turning into the wrong gate. All the other cows just followed. My Dad sold one of her calves to pay for our wedding - $600.

Here are some pictures of a roundup that looked very much like our herd of cattle. We had mostly Herefords ( brown with white faces) and a very few Holstein/Hereford crosses that were black with white faces. There are a few other breeds black Angus cattle for example, in this picture. We didn’t have any of those. I am not sure why.

WE SEE OURSELVES IN OTHERS ……UNFORTUNATELY

I am delivering a nine day leadership course to two groups in an Alberta Municipality. One group is great (read that easy for me to work with). The other group is not. Five of the difficult group were told that they had to come. They are busy and giving up 9 days of working time to learn what you don’t want to know does not make a happy learner. It would be easy to blame the group for my difficulties but it is a more complex than that.

In the last two years, I have been experiencing a lot of success in the workshops that I do. I get really positive evaluations and people even give me presents thanking me for the difference I have made to them. A sweet woman, a native from Malaysia, took time today to tell me how she has completely changed her thinking because of a two day leadership course she took from me. She understands the culture here now and can now can say with confidence what she needs to say to senior leaders. She realizes that she is important and has a right to share her expertise with others. As a result of feedback like that I feel like I am pretty good at facilitating learning.

This difficult group is a whole other experience. What I do that works so well for other groups just doesn’t for them. They don’t like open-ended questions, will not discuss anything in a large group and like playing games more than thinking and making applications. So different from me. The last workshop, our 5th day together was arduous for me and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. On the drive home I thought about all the things that I am usually sure about and how with them I am not sure about anything. I thought about how I probably come off as a know it all – like I have all the answers. These people are not interested in my answers and really why should they be?

I was still in this fairly negative headspace when I arrived at a “leadership” meeting with the Stake President and all the leaders in our ward. I am convinced this man is a ESTJ. He always, and unfortunately can say always, offends me when he speaks in meetings. He is fond of rules and checklists about personal righteousness and uses stories about how people “it” ( pray, serve, teach etc.) the wrong to teach. Anne is quite right when she says that this is poor way of teaching. His questions have right answers and I always feel like he is the parent and I am the child. As a result I feel hostile, distrustful and judged. My spirituality plummets and my testimony is challenged.

In one of the courses I teach, I have people select behaviours from a list that are hot buttons for them. Then I ask them why these behaviours of others bother them so much. Is it because they offend deeply held values or is it because of a fear of some kind that these behaviour engender? Or, perhaps, is it both. I have determined that the Stake President that bothers me so much does so because his behaviour does offend deeply held values. I don’t think that anyone has the right to tell me or any other adult how to live their life. We are all so different. I also value humility, the openness to learning a great deal. He never sounds as if he has anything to learn. I am know I am intelligent and thoughtful and opinionated. I am an extravert that processes thinking out loud. As a result I am constantly afraid of being perceived as arrogant, thinking that my way is the only way and that I have all the answers.

I don’t know of anyone who feels about the stake president as I do. I must admit therefore that my perception of his behaviour says way more about me than him. How is it that I turn this around. I don’t like feeling as I do. I go to church to be spiritually fed not drained. The answer of course is to work through my own concerns and focus on my own behaviour. I need to remain aware of how my perception is being shaped by my values and fears while I listen and then try to see him in a different way. Not an easy task to be sure. One that I am not always up for unfortunately.

Success to the Successful

I teach Systems Thinking. This course uses the pragmatic approach developed by Marilyn Herasymowych and Henry Senko to Peter Senge’s seminal theory found in the “Fifth Discipline”. This particular approach to formerly incomprehensible theory, enables anyone to use 10 system archetypes to understand complex patterns of behaviour in systems of any size. The world is a system, organizations are systems, groups are systems and we, as individuals are systems. Working with these concepts over the last ten years has heightened my awareness of repeating patterns of dysfunction. This is not always a good thing since I am prone more to analysis than action in most situations where I perceive little influence. I rarely take action on situations that should and could change. This blog is about high school basketball.

One of the most common and easily recognized archetype in systems thinking is “Success to the Successful”. In this pattern, an individual, group or organization is identified as having great potential. This high potential target is given access to resources that enable them to reach their assigned potential. They are given these resources because of course it “makes sense”. It is a “wise investment”. They are “talented” and the return on investment will be high. For people or groups in organizations this means that “high potential” individuals or groups are given more money, training, visibility and performance opportunities. And not surprisingly, they become even more successful. Others who are not deemed successful in the beginning do not have the same access to the resources and again not too surprisingly, do not become more successful. In fact, they often become less successful or poor performers.

I don’t think it is my knowledge of this archetype is to blame for my perception that this is one of the most powerful dysfunctions in our society. Children born in poverty become poor students eventually dropping out, become unemployed adults and often homeless. It is a cycle of poverty. Others born with money and advantage go to good schools, marry well, acquire great jobs and too often pat themselves on the back attributing their success to their own effort and determination. This archetype is in fact the reason I am a socialist and why I believe that Mormons among all people should be… “Unto whom much is given much is required” (D&C 82:3) “Are we not all beggars”(Mosiah 4:19) “ the poor have ye always” ( Mark 14:7, Luke 12:48). “And the Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them” (Moses 7:18).

Organized sports seems to be a haven for this archetype. There were only a couple of blacks on Canada’s winter Olympic team because winter sports more than others are expensive and socio economically there are not as many rich blacks in Canada. We won a lot of medals because Canada funneled a lot of money into our athletes over the last 4 years. It was great to share the success of these dedicated, perhaps obsessive people. I only experienced the positive results of this archetype in the Winter Olympics – i.e national pride, excitement etc.

High school basketball however does touch me and the application of this archetype is driving me crazy. Both the junior team and senior team coaches are caught in this negative pattern. The coaches have chosen their “best players”. These girls have more game time, and hence more experience and opportunities for feedback and learning. No surprise that their skills have increased and they score a lot of points. This “A” team can make a lot of mistakes and stay on the floor. Members of the “B” team can make only one mistake and are instantly subbed. These girls who are not as good, play less and remain of course, not as skillful. The coaches would say that this is a competitive level of play and that they are playing to win. I think this is a fallacy, that is compromising both team effectiveness and is hurting young women at a critical time of their lives.

The problem is that the “winners” continue to play when there is no possibility of losing i.e. the team is winning by 20 or 30 points. This pattern is unjustifiable and has the impact of lowering the capability and winning potential of the entire team. As a wise and successful coach said to me years ago, “a team is only as strong as its weakest member”, this “Success to the Successful” pattern works against team capability and potential. By creating winners and losers ON a team, the potential and capacity of the team is compromised. A team using this strategy will always lose to a team that has 3 strong lines not just one. Raymond’s senior girls team last year was a case in point. There were no weak players. Every line was unbelievably well conditioned, expert and high scoring and that team won the provincials.

What is more upsetting to me is to see the impact of this archetype on individual girls. I watched a girl who has never been a star, be a star for a month or so when she was chosen to be a “starter”. She had never played so well. Now for some reason, she has fallen from grace and her floor time is greatly reduced. This fall from grace was a gradual but a predictable downward spiral. Now when, she plays, it is frequently poorly and she is too often immediately removed when she makes a mistake. This is especially true if the score is close. It is obvious that her confidence has been compromised and her performance has decreased.
Anne and I have talked about this problem. Her strategy is to focus on believing that she is one of the best player every time she is on the floor. Without knowing it, she is using the reverse archetype or the positive manifestation of “Success to the Successful”, entitled “Strut Your Stuff”. This archetype leads us to be clear about our own particular strengths and abilities and has us look for opportunities to communicate and capitalize on these strengths.

I am sad that I will not be able to see the finals. Anne’s team will be playing Andrews team in the quarter finals. Andrew works on the “Strut Your Stuff” coaching philosophy and analyzes what every girl is best at. He develops team and coaching strategies based upon these strengths. His girls have much less experience and training than Anne’s team. What will happen? Who will win? Who will have increased their capability the most? For our family, Monday’s game will be both win/win ( one team will progress) and lose/lose ( one won’t) whatever the result will be. Anne only wishes that Andrew was her coach.

PERSONAL IDENTITY

One Sunday, not long ago my grand daughter Audrey, just a month short of 3 years old, wanted to change her clothes and wear a dress. Obliging her request I found a costume Cinderella dress that her cousin Dotty had worn extensively at Christmas time. We thought it was perfect and that she would be happy. “I look like Dotty!” she said. We quickly and positively replied, “Yes you do!” thinking that this was a positive reason to wear the dress. Audrey didn’t look happy however and after a couple more encouraging remarks from us and her thrice repeated comment, “But I Audrey!” we understood. As nice as the dress was it made her be Dotty not Audrey. We quickly found another solution to the dress dilemma, a much too small jumper that had been Anne’s. In spite of it looking more like a shirt than a dress, Audrey was happy, secure in the knowledge that there was no confusion about who she was.

I have been thinking a great deal about this concept of personal identity. Who are we really and how do we develop and act on our personal identity? Over the past couple months I have been somewhat surprised by feedback from clients and associates about who I am to them. Recently for example, I attended a short session led by a colleague / client and program manager at UoC. She told me after the workshop that when I walked in the room, her nervousness vanished. I am always so calm and positive and she feels so good around me that with me there, she knew the session was going to go well. As the “motivator/ high school spirit speaker” or “missionary:” as another colleague described me after observing a workshop and the high energy person I have often seen myself as being, this comment was surprising.

Another client had recently told me that she thinks I know everything. She was talking about organizational/interpersonal behaviour theory. Oh how I wish that were true!!! I read so many books,she said, the same ones that she does, but I remember more. She says that she feels like she needs to take out the dictionary when I leave. I feel so lacking when I compare myself to Marilyn Herasymowych.

She also says that she really appreciates that she can say anything to me, and it is never a problem. Consequently I am easy to work with. My bookkeeper, on the other hand said yesterday that when she began to work with me, I terrified her. When I asked her why, she said that it is because I am so confident and competent. She was also surprised when later in the discussion, I told her that I dislike being a project manager because I don’t like telling people what to do and holding them to agreements when situations change. She thought that I would be very good at that. So…. calm, accepting or hard to please?

I recently had the occasion to spend time with a colleague who in my perception is extremely hard driving. Whenever we work on a project together, I have felt challenged to work as hard as she does and turn work around as quickly as she expects. She is both conceptual and extremely detailed. I have to work to keep positive about my capabilities when I am with her. It was interesting to note little inconsistencies in this perception that I noted in our time driving together and conversations at home, which illuminated some things about me.

For example, she never goes to self serve gas lanes if she has the choice. She likes to be served. I never, yes never, go to these lanes and even avoid gas stations that do not have pay at the pump. I am impatient with being served. I dislike waiting for people to do for me what I can do for myself more quickly. She also, never does any housework and her husband takes his shirts out for cleaning. I do all my own housework and likely always will. She was surprised at the canning I had done. It turns out that in many ways I realized that I am has hard driving and likely hard working as she is, only in different areas.

Another reality about our identity is that our behaviour changes in different situations and that we are the composite of all of those moments and identities. Who we are, at least on the behavioural level, changes in different contexts. Our identity to some extent is a reflection of what others see us as being. They interpret our behaviour through the lens of their own hopes, fears, anxieties and values. Their expectations, whether positive or negative, influence our behaviour as they act on their interpretations, creating a dynamic that changes our own reactions. My children see me differently than my husband, my friends, clients, colleagues and workshop participants. Men see me differently than women and church members see me in ways that non members don’t.

I was amazed when at my sister’s funeral each of her daughters gave a eulogy of their mother from their own experience and perspective. Marion was a different Mother and person to and with each of them. In her perfect acceptance, she affirmed and shared the interests of each and developed and showed parts of herself differently with each. I realized that as rich as my understanding was of her because of the many hours of personal dialogue, there was so much I did not know about her. I wondered what I could have done or should have done to allow her to share even more of herself and her loves with me. It is my intention, what is in my heart, as a parent and grandparent to be perfectly like that, like she was, in this regard.

Perhaps the most frustrating and painful experiences in my life have been those times when the judgments of others, close to me, were negatively at odds with my knowledge of my own intentions. The result of these judgments and negative beliefs and assumptions, has been misinterpretations of my behaviours. I have felt at those times confused and somewhat powerless to be myself. Was I as terrible as they said? Did I need to drastically change who I was and what I did? What could I do to have them understand me better? Or was there little that I could do and their comments said more about their own fears and assumptions than about me? I have learned that just accepting and loving the other person frequently works in the long term and that there seems to be little that can be done in the short term. I have at those times just wanted to be understood, accepted and loved and like Audrey, I just wanted to be able to be affirmed to be the person that I was inside.

Another piece of this complex idea of identity is that who we are, both to ourselves and others, changes based on the context of the situation. Our roles, the requirements of the situation, the stresses we are experiencing, and our lack of skill and experience are just some of the factors that impact our behaviour. These serve to create beliefs in ourselves and others about who we are. In reality we frequently fall short on the behaviour side of the identity equation, how we are able to act on what we want and intend to do and be.

Perhaps the most powerful concept that I have learned in my work and what I try to teach others about, is the power of holding a basic assumption that people come from the best of intentions. I believe this concept to my core. No one purposely tries to do badly in this life. No one tries to be a bad parent, a poor employee, an insensitive friend, or a selfish citizen yet evidence may be easily gathered to affirm those judgments at one time or another. We are told in the scriptures for our good and the good of others, not to judge. Wise advice, since we all have these gaps and shortfalls.

What is the answer to the challenges of who I am? Am I who I am in my own head, a collection of all my best intentions? Am I collection of all of the behaviours and actions good and bad, ineffective and effective that I have demonstrated throughout my life? Am I who others think I am? I am grateful that for our heavenly parents and Jesus Christ, the answers are clear. The scriptures say that Heavenly Father judges me not by what I do but by what is in my heart. I believe and want to know this reality continuously. He alone knows perfectly who I am and what my intentions are. He knows the struggles of my heart, the pains that I experience and challenges I face in bringing my actions more closely in line with the example of the Saviour. I am thankful that he is patient as I seek to bring my behaviour and intentions closer and to figure out how best to act on the love and acceptance that I feel in my heart for others.