Do you ever feel really super inspired to go out and do all the things that you need/want to do that will help you to better be the person that you need/want to be, but then when the time actually comes to do those things the inspiration has run dry and you don't do them? ...ok, I'll admit that that was a really vague and nebulous question. Please disregard it. Rather than posing a question, let me illustrate what I mean by showing a few examples from my life, and then get to the real question later.
I have a hard time keeping myself motivated. Please consider the following two scenarios:
Scenario 1
Sometimes I'll be sitting in class and we'll be having a fantastic discussion about rhetoric or composition instruction or really anything to do with what I'm studying, and I'll feel this rush of adrenaline deep within me, and my heart will start beating faster as I think about all the individual research that I want to do to further my own understanding of the topics we're talking about. And then thinking about all that research makes me really happy because I take my excitement about the subject material as confirmation that what I'm studying and the direction I'm taking my life really is what I want and need. But then when the time rolls around when I should go into the library and do research, or work on one of the dozen pet projects that I have laying around, or even just do the base-line, required homework for the classes I'm taking, all that motivation that I felt during class evaporates and the only thing I want to do is sit around and watch episodes of mind-numbing and unenlightening TV shows like The West Wing or Once Upon a Time.
Scenario 2
Sometimes I'll be sitting in Sacrament Meeting and I'll be feeling great and super pumped about the things I'm going to do differently so that I can live closer to the Holy Ghost and better live up to the covenants I've made. Usually this motivation inspires me to set goals like going to bed earlier and getting up earlier so that I can exercise and read my scripture before I set out for the rest of the day, or making a conscious effort to go out of my way to serve other people and be kind to them, or to go to the temple with greater frequency. But then my alarm goes off at 6:30am and I decide that I'm too tired and I'll read my scriptures and exercise later. Or I'll think to myself, "I should really go to the temple today," and I'll think of dozens of other "more important" things that I should do instead of going to the temple. That motivation that I felt as I sat in church and listened to someone bear their testimony is all but gone in that moment when said motivation would spark me into action.
This kind of thing happens to me all the time. I look back at my life and I can think of dozens of experiences that I've had when this motivation that I'm talking about has hit me hard and I feel like I'm turning my life around. It's hit me while having countless conversations in the carrels with Tara and Jarron and Carolyn and Drew and Angela and Paige and Shannon and Becca and all my other grad school friends as we talk about anything and everything from rhetoric to dating to social/political issues to classroom issues to inane small talk. Somewhere in there I almost always feel that spark ignite in me that drives me to want to be better and work harder in many different areas of my life. It happens when I'm sitting quietly in the temple reflecting about my life and where I am in comparison to where I want to be. It happened numerous times while sitting Meridith's office talking about the class we were teaching and invariably started talking about how we're going to save the world from itself via composition education in the university classroom. It happens when I'm in the shower thinking about the day ahead of me. It happens while I'm talking to my parents about many varied things. It happens while I'm driving to and from Bluffdale with Maurianne. It almost always happens every time I get together with my family and I look at the awesome people that they are. But nearly all of these motivating times happen to me when I'm not in a place to take advantage of the surge of emotion and drive. By the time I'm in a situation where I have the time and means of actually doing the work that should be associated with this passion and motivation, all desire and yearning to do great things and be great myself has dried up and I'm nothing but a dried husk of laziness and discomfort. I'm not sure I'm totally describing my frustration here, but I think this is about as good as I can get for now.
Anyway, living this way is utterly infuriating.
All of this reminds me of the first day of my Shakespeare class a couple years back. Richard Duerden, my professor, said these words that have stuck with me and that are constantly ringing in my head:
Talent is desire to practice;
Genius is willingness to work.
I love that idea so much. I agree with it whole-heartedly. I yearn for it. So why the devil can I not actually sustain those moments of motivation so that they become the drive to me actually laboring diligently in my work, broadly defined?
So I now pose this question to any and all who happen to read this, admittedly overlong, rant about my frustrations with life:
How do you maintain and sustain motivation in your life?
What do you do to keep working and pushing yourself even when you really, really don't want to?
What are your secrets in this department?
Ok, that was three questions; please forgive me.
This is something that I've struggled with for awhile, so I'm open to any and all suggestions that anyone might have. If you don't feel comfortable leaving a public comment here on my blog, feel free to email me with any thoughts that you have on this subject at sam.dunn(at)gmail.com.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
New Books
So I just got back to my house and upon walking in the door I saw a package from Amazon sitting on the floor with my name on it. I set my basketball down, grabbed the box and walked over to the utensil drawer for a knife. Now you make ask, "Why Sam, you're a Dunn aren't you? Didn't you have a pocket knife on your person? Didn't you have your pants on?" In a word, no. No I didn't have a knife on me, and no I didn't have my pants on either. (I was wearing gym shorts) Thus, having no knife, it was necessary for me to turn to the utensil drawer.
Upon opening the drawer I saw that rather than having any utensils in it, it was empty except for a pizza cutter, a spatula and a can opener. No knives, no forks, heck, there wasn't so much as a measly spoon in there. A glance to the sink confirmed my suspicions as to the location of all our utensils. Turning back to the drawer, I decided the pizza cutter would probably do the job, so I grabbed it and started hacking away at the tape on the box.
The pizza cutter took much longer to do the job than I would've liked, but once I'd gotten the box open, I found this, or rather these, inside:
That's right, books. Not just books, but textbooks. As you can see from their titles, The Rhetoric of Agitation and Control and The Realm of Rhetoric, they aren't just ordinary textbooks either, they're awesome textbooks. Now having ordered them myself, I knew that these books were coming, so it wasn't a surprise or anything. In fact, I was really hoping that they would come today because I have a reading assignment due tomorrow out of one of them.
Even so, upon opening the package and seeing them sitting there smiling up at me, my heart leapt into my throat and I got an excited feeling in my stomach. You know that feeling you get as you're driving up to an amusement park, the one that makes you all anxious and, being right on the threshold of hours of fun and enjoyment, makes you feel like you're going to explode from the anticipation of it all.
Yeah, that's how I felt, and no I'm not ashamed.
Upon opening the drawer I saw that rather than having any utensils in it, it was empty except for a pizza cutter, a spatula and a can opener. No knives, no forks, heck, there wasn't so much as a measly spoon in there. A glance to the sink confirmed my suspicions as to the location of all our utensils. Turning back to the drawer, I decided the pizza cutter would probably do the job, so I grabbed it and started hacking away at the tape on the box.
The pizza cutter took much longer to do the job than I would've liked, but once I'd gotten the box open, I found this, or rather these, inside:
That's right, books. Not just books, but textbooks. As you can see from their titles, The Rhetoric of Agitation and Control and The Realm of Rhetoric, they aren't just ordinary textbooks either, they're awesome textbooks. Now having ordered them myself, I knew that these books were coming, so it wasn't a surprise or anything. In fact, I was really hoping that they would come today because I have a reading assignment due tomorrow out of one of them.
Even so, upon opening the package and seeing them sitting there smiling up at me, my heart leapt into my throat and I got an excited feeling in my stomach. You know that feeling you get as you're driving up to an amusement park, the one that makes you all anxious and, being right on the threshold of hours of fun and enjoyment, makes you feel like you're going to explode from the anticipation of it all.
Yeah, that's how I felt, and no I'm not ashamed.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Victory
I only had 1 term paper to do this semester. As of an hour and a half ago it is finished and submitted.
You better believe I cranked Don't You Forget About Me as I Bender'd on my way out of the JKB at midnight:thirty.
You better believe I cranked Don't You Forget About Me as I Bender'd on my way out of the JKB at midnight:thirty.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Early Morning Shower Inspiration
It's a commonly-accepted truth that the shower is one of those rare locations where inspiration seems to pour out down from the cosmos at about the same rate as the scalding water that pours down from the shower head. This morning I arose early in order to chase the proverbial worm which in this case took the form of scholastic endeavors. Deciding that my academic pursuits would be best served by a healthy dose of inspiration, my first stop, after going upstairs to get a popsicle, was the shower.
I turned on the water, allowed it to warm, and stepped into the flow of water. After letting out a small yelp of pain at the heat of the water, and after adjusting the hot:cold ratio, all the while trying to allow as little water as possible to make contact with my skin, I placed myself below the stream and assumed the position of inspiration reception. In my mind this is what was about to happen:
I was mistaken.
Rather than having sudden strokes of brilliance come to my mind, all I could think was, "Please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand, for the times they are a'changin'," and " Shout, shout, let it all out. These are the things we can do without, come on. I'm talking to you."
So unless I'm supposed to somehow incorporate Bob Dylan and Tears for Fears into my "Rhetoric and Poetics" term project I'll just have to find some other source of inspiration.
I turned on the water, allowed it to warm, and stepped into the flow of water. After letting out a small yelp of pain at the heat of the water, and after adjusting the hot:cold ratio, all the while trying to allow as little water as possible to make contact with my skin, I placed myself below the stream and assumed the position of inspiration reception. In my mind this is what was about to happen:
I was mistaken.
Rather than having sudden strokes of brilliance come to my mind, all I could think was, "Please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand, for the times they are a'changin'," and " Shout, shout, let it all out. These are the things we can do without, come on. I'm talking to you."
So unless I'm supposed to somehow incorporate Bob Dylan and Tears for Fears into my "Rhetoric and Poetics" term project I'll just have to find some other source of inspiration.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Ambrosia
Before anything else happens tonight I need to talk seriously about food. This evening it was my pleasure to dine with Rob, Courtney, Nick, Jenlee and Lisa at Pizzeria 712.
Now this kind of company would make any meal enjoyable and worthwhile, but take that company and add to it the foods available for purchase at Pizzeria 712, and the dining experience is ratcheted up several notches. The pizza is delicious and the brussel sprouts divine. To top it off the establishment does everything possible to be on board with the local food movement, so that's cool too.
But none of that is what I came here to talk about. I'm here about pudding.
First of all I need to be clear that I'm not much of a dessert person. I much prefer savory foods to sweet, and as such I rarely, if ever, order or even ask for dessert. In fact, when offered dessert I often decline, thinking that it would only serve to taint the deliciousness of a fine meal recently enjoyed. The exception to that rule is, of course, Mom's cherry pie which is other-worldly and beats the pants off of any other desserts. Literally. Pants. Off. And yes, I'm still willing to fight you on that one.
Tonight, however, I went against custom and ordered the Amano chocolate pudding with whipped cream and a shortbread cookie on Rob's recommendation. Rob is my food guy, and I trust him on most all food recommendations. That goes for food and music. But I digress.
...
I feel like I need to pause here so that upon reading what I'm about to write you can fully appreciate the gravity of the situation
...
okay, I think I'm ready.
...
Never before at a restaurant have I eaten something so delicious in my life as was that Amano chocolate pudding. I'm serious. It wasn't much to look at - it seemed like your standard, run-of-the-mill pudding with a cookie - but it was astonishingly, mind-blowingly incredible. No really, it was mind-blowing.
Now my generation often uses words and phrases such as "mind-blowing" for things that aren't really that great. We have a flair for the hyperbolic and are often found describing things as "epic" that would make Homer shake his head with disgust. But in all honesty, my mind has not been this blown in ages. The pudding was phenomenal. If John Travolta knew that this pudding existed he would have forgotten about his super-intelligence and telekinetic powers, shaved his fu manchu, slicked back his hair, put on his prettiest dress and come to Orem for just a taste.
As for myself, I took one bite and as my tongue, mouth, throat and stomach took turns dancing with euphoria, I could do nothing but sit and look at my chocolate pudding-streaked spoon with incredulity. Chills ran down my spine as I contemplated what I was experiencing. I sat there thinking that there is no way on God's green earth that anything can taste that good. But apparently it can. And it does at Pizzeria 712. And it was sitting there in front of me waiting to be consumed.
Just when I thought it could get no better, I took a bite of the chocolate shortbread cookie that accompanied the pudding and found myself yet again in the throes of ecstasy. Tears of emotion welled up behind my eyes as I contemplated the wonder of this dessert. It was one of those moments where you want desperately to find some way of capturing everything about the moment, and feel a pang of sadness knowing you can't.
The best word I can think to describe it is Ambrosia. The nectar of the gods. If they don't serve this dessert in heaven, then send me to hell.
And no, I'm under no obligation nor contract to write what I've just written.
All of that said, Mom's cherry pie is still better. And as I previously mentioned, if you can't get on board with that, I'll gladly grow out my mustache in preparation for you and I to get on board with something like this:
Photo courtesy of Nick Homer via facebook
But none of that is what I came here to talk about. I'm here about pudding.
First of all I need to be clear that I'm not much of a dessert person. I much prefer savory foods to sweet, and as such I rarely, if ever, order or even ask for dessert. In fact, when offered dessert I often decline, thinking that it would only serve to taint the deliciousness of a fine meal recently enjoyed. The exception to that rule is, of course, Mom's cherry pie which is other-worldly and beats the pants off of any other desserts. Literally. Pants. Off. And yes, I'm still willing to fight you on that one.
Tonight, however, I went against custom and ordered the Amano chocolate pudding with whipped cream and a shortbread cookie on Rob's recommendation. Rob is my food guy, and I trust him on most all food recommendations. That goes for food and music. But I digress.
...
I feel like I need to pause here so that upon reading what I'm about to write you can fully appreciate the gravity of the situation
...
okay, I think I'm ready.
...
Never before at a restaurant have I eaten something so delicious in my life as was that Amano chocolate pudding. I'm serious. It wasn't much to look at - it seemed like your standard, run-of-the-mill pudding with a cookie - but it was astonishingly, mind-blowingly incredible. No really, it was mind-blowing.
Now my generation often uses words and phrases such as "mind-blowing" for things that aren't really that great. We have a flair for the hyperbolic and are often found describing things as "epic" that would make Homer shake his head with disgust. But in all honesty, my mind has not been this blown in ages. The pudding was phenomenal. If John Travolta knew that this pudding existed he would have forgotten about his super-intelligence and telekinetic powers, shaved his fu manchu, slicked back his hair, put on his prettiest dress and come to Orem for just a taste.
As for myself, I took one bite and as my tongue, mouth, throat and stomach took turns dancing with euphoria, I could do nothing but sit and look at my chocolate pudding-streaked spoon with incredulity. Chills ran down my spine as I contemplated what I was experiencing. I sat there thinking that there is no way on God's green earth that anything can taste that good. But apparently it can. And it does at Pizzeria 712. And it was sitting there in front of me waiting to be consumed.
Just when I thought it could get no better, I took a bite of the chocolate shortbread cookie that accompanied the pudding and found myself yet again in the throes of ecstasy. Tears of emotion welled up behind my eyes as I contemplated the wonder of this dessert. It was one of those moments where you want desperately to find some way of capturing everything about the moment, and feel a pang of sadness knowing you can't.
The best word I can think to describe it is Ambrosia. The nectar of the gods. If they don't serve this dessert in heaven, then send me to hell.
And no, I'm under no obligation nor contract to write what I've just written.
All of that said, Mom's cherry pie is still better. And as I previously mentioned, if you can't get on board with that, I'll gladly grow out my mustache in preparation for you and I to get on board with something like this:
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Pure Beauty
I have never gotten so emotional because of a youtube video.
Not with Susan Boyle
Not with Paul Potts
Not with adorable kittens
Not even with Mormon Messages
This brought a tear to my eye and a smile as wide as the moon to my face.
This year...this year.
Not with Susan Boyle
Not with Paul Potts
Not with adorable kittens
Not even with Mormon Messages
This brought a tear to my eye and a smile as wide as the moon to my face.
This year...this year.
Monday, March 5, 2012
art and such
When teaching my students about the issues paper I tell them that they need to pick a topic that they are absolutely passionate about if they don't want this to be their lives for the next few weeks:
Unfortunately, for some reason 18 year olds and recently returned missionaries, both of whom are still trying to figure out their place in the world, never seem to have anything that they are deeply passionate about. That's not true; I'm sure they are passionate about things, but when they step into my classroom all that passion seems to melt away, and they have no idea what their passions are. As such I ask them a lot of questions to try and pull out their passions. One question that I often as them is, "What do you think about when you don't have to think about anything?" (Whenever I ask that question I can't help but to think of the John Wooden quote, "The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching," but that's beside the point.)
Because people tend to be a bit reticent to share their innermost passions, I always share with my students some of the things that I think about when there's nothing pressing. This list includes but is not exclusive to:
-plants/flowers/gardening
-the stars
-figuring out how to be a better teacher/changing the world via composition instruction
-girls
-psych
-books/reading in the tub
-BYU sports/the Jazz/sports in general
-music (which lately seems to center around this song and this one)
-Jesus
-art
Of late it's especially been that last one. Ever since I left working at the MOA, I've been thinking a lot about how I need more art in my life. That sentences begs the question, "what, then, do you mean by art?" For now we'll not venture into that jungle. Anyway, a good friend of mine and I have been planning to hold our own art show in the next couple of weeks, and so I've been thinking about various art projects that I might undertake. Having always rather discounted my own artistic abilities makes this a bit hard for me. As such, I've been looking for inspiration in many different places.
This search led me here.
If you're reading this and haven't clicked on that last link go back and click on it now. But really.
I'm just fascinated to see the many and varied "workspaces" of so many different "artists". Whenever I've had a spare moment the past couple of days I invariable make it back to that tumblr and spend a few minutes (more than is probably good for me) perusing the various workspaces. I find this one of Matisse particularly lovely:
I can't really put into words what I love about it, but I do. Another little gem that I've run across that has sparked some thoughts in this realm is this video:
I've watched this several times a day for the past week or so. It makes me want to hold/attend a concert in the attic where the stage is framed by a bunch of backlit, taped-together book pages and which involves plenty of audience participation.
Finally, I came across this short discussion of photography and found it very intriguing and thought-provoking. I may have to put that book on my reading list.
I very much plan to continue thinking about art and how I might engage in artistic endeavors myself, but for now this is a sampling of what is currently stirring the stew-pot of my thoughts on the subject.
Unfortunately, for some reason 18 year olds and recently returned missionaries, both of whom are still trying to figure out their place in the world, never seem to have anything that they are deeply passionate about. That's not true; I'm sure they are passionate about things, but when they step into my classroom all that passion seems to melt away, and they have no idea what their passions are. As such I ask them a lot of questions to try and pull out their passions. One question that I often as them is, "What do you think about when you don't have to think about anything?" (Whenever I ask that question I can't help but to think of the John Wooden quote, "The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching," but that's beside the point.)
Because people tend to be a bit reticent to share their innermost passions, I always share with my students some of the things that I think about when there's nothing pressing. This list includes but is not exclusive to:
-plants/flowers/gardening
-the stars
-figuring out how to be a better teacher/changing the world via composition instruction
-girls
-psych
-books/reading in the tub
-BYU sports/the Jazz/sports in general
-music (which lately seems to center around this song and this one)
-Jesus
-art
Of late it's especially been that last one. Ever since I left working at the MOA, I've been thinking a lot about how I need more art in my life. That sentences begs the question, "what, then, do you mean by art?" For now we'll not venture into that jungle. Anyway, a good friend of mine and I have been planning to hold our own art show in the next couple of weeks, and so I've been thinking about various art projects that I might undertake. Having always rather discounted my own artistic abilities makes this a bit hard for me. As such, I've been looking for inspiration in many different places.
This search led me here.
If you're reading this and haven't clicked on that last link go back and click on it now. But really.
I'm just fascinated to see the many and varied "workspaces" of so many different "artists". Whenever I've had a spare moment the past couple of days I invariable make it back to that tumblr and spend a few minutes (more than is probably good for me) perusing the various workspaces. I find this one of Matisse particularly lovely:
I can't really put into words what I love about it, but I do. Another little gem that I've run across that has sparked some thoughts in this realm is this video:
I've watched this several times a day for the past week or so. It makes me want to hold/attend a concert in the attic where the stage is framed by a bunch of backlit, taped-together book pages and which involves plenty of audience participation.
Finally, I came across this short discussion of photography and found it very intriguing and thought-provoking. I may have to put that book on my reading list.
I very much plan to continue thinking about art and how I might engage in artistic endeavors myself, but for now this is a sampling of what is currently stirring the stew-pot of my thoughts on the subject.
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