I am a big fan of pushing myself to the edge – in business, exercise, and everything else. I was in a meeting once were Elder Holland spoke of a poem with the theme of “COME TO THE EDGE!” That phrase rang true to me in large part because that is how I have always lived my life, on the edge. Not the wild, out of control edge that most people associate with “living on the edge”, but the persistent drive to be on the edge of my abilities, to always be pushing; pushing towards accomplishing something that I shouldn’t be able to do, and then accomplishing it.

Most times I jump into things looking at the end, and start from there. I forget about what it will take in the whole middle part to get to the end. Things always seem like they are harder than I would have imagined them at the beginning, but with the end in sight, I feel like I can accomplish almost anything I put my mind to. I think that my desire to “go to the edge” is in large part due to optimism and a short memory. Optimism because I always believe that I really can do it. And a short memory because I can easily forget my failures.

That point, the point where I am caught in the middle working towards the end is my edge. The edge where I am pushing with everything I have. It seems more and more common that as I get to the end my will power, strength, endurance, whatever you want to call it, gives out. Sometimes I burst through with energy to give. Other times, I just barely fall over the finish line because I have nothing left to push with. And even more frequently I fail. To quote Seth Godin’s blog, “The object isn’t to be perfect. The goal isn’t to hold back until you’ve created something beyond reproach. I believe the opposite is true. Our birthright is to fail and to fail often, but to fail in search of something bigger than we can imagine. To do anything else is to waste it all.”

I believe that not going to the edge and pushing better ourselves and accomplish more is to waste our time, our talents, and our lives. Sometimes, I need to remind myself of these things.

So here is my goal, to read 30 books by my first year anniversary with my wife. I already have a good chunk done, and will enjoy reading the rest too! Here they are.

Now the two of us are trying to not be the stereotypical newly wed couple, although I think that we are failing utterly in that regard!  We pretty much hang out with only ourselves, stay in our new condo admiring our very own home, tell each other endlessly that we love each other, and generally are fairly sickening to anyone that has never been in love and newly married.  But hey, we are only newly weds once, and it is a great time of life.  I sure am going to keep on rockin’ the newly wed phase as long as I can.

I have been a big fan of Fantasy books ever since I was first able to pick up a book and read. I think it is in large part due to my two older brothers Chad and Brady who pointed me in that direction. Too many people thing fantasy and think that the only people that read Fantasy also enjoy the the smell of their own BO and run from the complicated formatalites of any solcial interaction. But I hope this helps some people understand that I am neither of those, and that Fantasy/Sci Fi are some increadible genre’s that explore human nature in much the same way (and many times better) than that of the Classical works.

This week I finished up The Sword of Truth, a series by Terry Goodkind that I have been reading for 8 years now. I have been reading another series,
The Wheel of Time, since I was in 5th grade (14 years). Luckily the last book in that series should be out in the next year or so. Ainyway, it feels GREAT to finally be able to finish up a series.

It seems that fantasy series have been in a rut the last few years. Authors have been writing books that delve into divergent paths and don’t drive the main plot line. A good example of this are these two series that I am reading right now. Both series, in books 7, 8, and 9 both “lost their way” so to speak.

The last book of this series was a pleasant surprise and turn around for this series. It ended very well, bringing the whole series back around to book one and tied up many of the loose strings that I was left hanging with for 6 years.

Goodkind portrays in his novels that individuals can remain true in the face of adversity without sacrificing their values and moral beliefs. Throughout the series, the main character Richard discovers a new guiding principle in each book. It starts in book one with the First rule, and he gets a new rule each book. This one liners are great example that Fantasy can be a great form of literature as well.

1)  People will believe a lie either because they want to believe it’s true, or because they are afraid it might be true.

2)  The greatest harm can result from the best intentions.

3)  Passion rules reason.

4)  There is magic in sincere forgiveness, the magic to heal. In forgiveness you grant, but more so, in forgiveness you receive.

5)  Mind what people do, not only what they say, for deeds will betray a lie.

6)  The only sovereign you can allow to rule you is reason.

7)  Life is the future, not the past.

8)  Deserve victory.

9)  A contradiction cannot exist in reality. Not in part, nor in whole.

10) Willfully turning aside from the truth is treason to one’s self.

11)  The Unwritten Rule

One of the defining images of the trip occurred in the Hong Kong Subway. I stood near the escalators on an island between two subway lines. Efficiency whirled around us at a speed unlike New York, LA, or any city I’ve ever been to. I watched as a young man and a woman that I assume was his Grandmother approached an escalator. He was dressed in a bright soccer Jersey, sneakers and had his hair spiked. She was dressed in a light brown, draping blouse, grey pants, and old sandals with wooden soles. Her ankles were the swollen ankles of older woman who walks far more than a woman of her age should. Her grey hair was tied in a bun, and rested above her head. Her back was hunched and bony. He hopped on without thinking, riding a few steps, and then turning around after he realized that she did not get on. She was perched at the edge of the escalator, reminding me of a child perched on the edge of a pool, with their knees and ankles bent, and their hands forming a tent on the top of their head, ready to make their first dive into the swimming pool. She perched, with knees and ankles bent, unable to grab the rail of the escalator because it would pull her with it. Her grandson moved away from her, and after a few seconds perched, she gave a little squeal and hopped onto the escalator. A triumphant smile teetered on the edge of fear as her Grandson came back to get her, smiling as he held her hand and helped down the rest of the escalator. Before getting off, she took it at a running start. Holding his hand and shuffling towards the end of the escalator, something that always seemed like a cliff with no fall to me. It was a beautiful scene.

For the last week, I have been reliving my mission vicariously through my younger brother’s experiences. He’s a good kid, and I’m proud of him. In one of his areas he met and invited a man to church. The man didn’t come. Big surprise. The story continues. Two weeks later the man sees my younger brother across the street and exclaims “Do you remember me?” My brother says no. At least he is honest. Then the man pulls out a flyer with my brother’s name on it and the church address and tells my brother that he has been in the US for two weeks. During those two weeks, he has contacted the missionaries and been baptized. You see, he is an employee of the Sunrider company. They are akin to NuSkin, and they are owned by an LDS man (Mr. Chen) who is Chinese-American. Mr. Chen has been a good example. After years of watching Mr. Chen, this Chinese man and his good wife joined the church. He then goes back to China. The story continues. He (Mr. Teng) brings his four children and his parents to church. My brother teaches them and baptizes them. Mr. Teng then begins to bring his relatives down from mainland China. Over the next four months, forty-seven of this good man’s relatives and friends come down from a city named JungSaan and are baptized into the small branch in the island city of Macao (a Portuguese settlement about an hour from Hong Kong known as the Las Vegas of the east due to its gambling). Because of this family, many others have been baptized into branches and wards strewn over Hong Kong and mainland China.

The church has four branches in mainland China. JungSaan is the fourth. It will be organized in the next few weeks. I had a chance to go to these members homes in Mainland China. They live in a town known for being the birthplace of Dr. Sun Yat Tze, the man who led the revolution to overthrow the dynasties and the emperors in 1911. It was about an hour and a half long boat ride through deep channels of industry and manufacturing. Each of the member families were waiting for us as we got off the boat. They smiled excitedly and they hugged my brother. They glowed. They gave us small pineapple refreshments, and each time we finished one, they replaced it with another. Communication barriers were thick, but understanding was easy. The eyes of recent believers are beautiful. The verse reads “how beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good tidings.” How beautiful are the feet of these people. These members who are bringing good tidings to China. Missionaries are just a small catalyst, the burden and the sacrifice always falls on the members, and here was a small group that cannot imagine the miracles and the heartache and the work that lies before them.

They took us to their homes. Interestingly, these people are wealthy and they are for the most part educated. The work spreads to both the wealthy and the poor. Typically, it spreads to the poor, and they become wealthy. The Lord’s hand is over China. It was evident repeatedly as we spoke with this small group of members. While these are a wildly successful group of people, they are more importantly wildly faithful. I watched as they blessed their food. They had removed the places to worship their ancestors and they had replaced them with pictures of the Savior and of the temple.

We also visited the birthplace and museum of Dr. Sun Yat Tze. It was inspiring. He is the equivalent of the George Washington of China. He was more than George Washington. Rather than overthrowing a country far away with a three hundred year history that was imposing an extra tax on sugars and coffees, he overthrew an empire that had governed with true tyranny and oppression. He was not able to completely implement all that he planned, but his accomplishments were inspiring. He studied in Honolulu, and then came back to China with a vision. With his vision, he inspired those around him and then the entire country.

As I rode through the countryside, I could imagine missionaries on bikes. I could see them talking to one another. One fifth of God’s children on the earth today are waiting. They looked so ready.

We left JungSaan and they lingered with my brother. He made sure that he was the last, and he cried as he hugged the last of these wonderful saints. The entire experience was surreal.

While in Hong Kong and the neighboring island of Macau, we saw some vigils of ancestor worship, and Buddhism. Beijing had none. I did not see a single chapel, nor any manifestation of religion. As a first time person in a communist nation, this left me . . . unsettled. I suppose that one of the familiar things that I have felt in my life, even when in an unfamiliar environment, is the solace from the religions around me. I remember being lonely and discouraged at times while I was on my mission in Brazil, and despite what some have erroneously characterized as the great and abominable church, I found solace in the high stone permanence of Cathedrals throughout Brazil. Mormon chapels are always beautiful, but they are ultra functional, and the doors are usually locked. Once inside the spirit is different, but I found much solace in Cathedrals. The architecture always took my gaze away from myself and towards God. In Hong Kong, I found comfort in the smiling Buddha with his large stomach (which apparently holds my sins that he has eaten). From an American perspective on Buddha, I see the image of Buddha as a powerful reminder that self-image and materialism are unimportant. I don’t need to be thin and I don’t need to have to have nice clothes. I can be fat, I can wear a loin cloth, and I can smile. Unfortunately, nothing of comfort was in Beijing. There was only smog and square buildings with red flags.

Beijing was nearly always covered in a mist of fog. Our tour guide through the city was named Du. He was an employee of the government and he was a believer in the government of China, whether for belief, survival, or both I do not know. We asked him what he thought about Americans “I have no thoughts about America.” We asked him about the student riots in Tiananmen Square and he responded: “We do not speak of this.” The government seemed oppressive but not powerful. This was evidenced by the sights around Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Rather than showing military might that may intimidate/impress foreign visitors, the government chose to train their riot police in the square. This “you better not try” tactic appeared . . . petty. We walked through 3000 years of history. So old and so sad. All painted with the brush of the communist government showing how much better things were today. Even the current government puts down the modern leaders to make themselves look better. There is no religion in Beijing. The cultural revolution of the 1960’s took care of that. In the 1960’s, Chairman Mao unleashed the youth upon the educated and cultured of China. They destroyed anything decorative, educated, and religious in the name of the government. They did not follow the admonition of Paul.

Possessing a degree in American Studies, I have always segmented history into two sections: After 1776, and the part that doesn’t matter. China has a history of thousands of years. Whereas in America, there is virtually no history discussed before Columbus. China’s history was recorded daily within the journals of the emperors. Most of the history appears as a terrible expression of inhumanity, punctuated by revolutions and short term governmental kindness before falling back into despotism. This lies in strict contrast to Hong Kong, where the history is so young. Hong Kong history is swallowed by China until Empress Cixi was forced to sign the island over to the British. Since then, Hong Kong appears to be full of enthusiasm and modern excitement. Capitalism and survival of the fittest speed the pace of Hong Kong, whereas Beijing appeared to move at a slow amble. The international Church branch was excellent. The first five minutes were spent giving warnings and pleadings about not preaching to the people. Then the rest was spent preaching to those present. Everyone brings their passports to church—sometimes government officials stop by and check. I guess they probably have people come and watch the services as well. My brother’s mission president and his wife (President and Sister Ong) were returning home from serving in Hong Kong, and were visiting Beijing on their way. They bore testimony. Hers brought the spirit, his directed it where to go. That is how it was with my mission president too. In his testimony, President Ong said something very interesting. He talked about how the people of China are waiting, and they are waiting with a clean slate, a slate ready to be filled in with the gospel. I thought on this. The clean slate was caused in large part by the oppressive government and its so-called revolutions. I thought about why the Lord would work in such a way. I then remembered the people of Ammon—the Anti-Nephi-Lehites. Here was a people that refused to fight. For this, their immediate reward was slaughter. 1005 people slaughtered as they lay prostrate before those that hated them most. The story continues. Their murderers changed, and more of them threw down their weapons of war and joined with those that they had just intended to kill. The pattern continued throughout the remainder of the war. The hard reality is that the Lord allowed over a thousand of his children to be slaughtered; by doing so, he allowed many more of his children to be saved. We certainly worship a God that is willing to make tough decisions. Like the decision to send his Son, and the decision to sacrifice the 1005 Anti-Nephi-Lehites. Perhaps the cultural revolution in China is another such tough decision.

As I leave China, I am again reminded of the old woman on the escalator. Poised, ready to jump, and gathering her courage. Her grandchild is moving away from her and beckoning her to come. I think of ancient China, poised and ready to begin. With leaders that have left China, much like Dr. Sun Yat Tze, helping her to get onto the escalator before the distance grows too great. China, the Old Woman. The Grandson, Hong Kong. Dr. Sun Yat Tze, the courageous members of China. A true revolution poised to begin.

Waking up has never been easy for me… and I think that this week is going to be full of very early mornings.  Today we woke up at 6, and tomorrow we are waking up at 5!  At least the only connection I have to the world is this blog (and no internet) so I don’t have much to do at night but go to bed at 10 or 11. 

Today our adventure was Halibut fishing out about 30 miles from shore.  But halibut was not the only thing we caught, I brought in two sharks along with some halibut.  In all we brought in 12 good sized halibut and cut them all up in fillet’s and packaged them away so that we can take them home with us.

Eating our fresh caught Halibut was really good.  Bob is teaching us all his favorite ways to eat the fish that we are catching, and tonight’s special was deep fried halibut.  MMM! 

The Deep Creek river, which is one of the best salmon fishing rivers in Alaska, is not far from where we are staying. So Greg, Tim, Jeremy, and me all followed the master fisherman (Bob) up the river to his favorite fishing holes and tried to ply our luck with the reel in the fading sunlight.  As expected, only Greg caught anything!  But the fish will be biting tomorrow morning!

Alaska!  The Last Frontier.  And no, I mean the LAST frontier, not the final frontier all you star trek nerds, gez, get a life!  Well,  it is 10:14 right now here in Nilinchik, Alaska and I don’t think that I have slept more than 7 or 8 hours in the last 72 hours.  But wow, what a great experience, I couldn’t go to sleep without getting some of these experience down in my blog here. 

After spending 18 hours on planes getting to Anchorage at midnight local time Greg, Jeremy, Tim, and me were exhausted.  But nothing could get us ready for the 4 hour drive through the dark of night after a long time of travel like getting a sweet brand new dodge charger as our rental car.  The problem was then trying to fit all our gear into it without having to leave Tim behind.  I called shotgun, which left me a and Greg to stay awake for the whole drive to Greg’s grandparents house in Nilinchik.  Now, I am not  fan of caffeine drinks, because they usually give me some bad side effects, but I packed down around 360 grams of caffeine and I still was nodding off to sleep.  Because I didn’t want to leave Greg driving all alone in the middle of the night I kept trying to keep talking, but I guess that it just ended up us all gibberish and non-sense. 

Waking up 3 hours later for church was actually not that hard, but finding a white shirt was.  The hour drive to church in Homer, Alaska’s 9^h largest city at a population of 4,000.  Avoiding the red headed Alaskan girls at church was fun, but luckily I had my woman repellent, also known as my fledgling beard.  After a great church meeting we took our sack lunches up to the most incredible lookout overlooking the pacific ocean and the rising ice capped peaks of Alaska jutting out of the ocean in the distance.  Alaska has been surprisingly warm and funny since we have been here.  Actually… maybe it has been a little bit too sunny.  The sun comes up a bit earlier and doesn’t set until after 10pm or so.  But I guess that it isn’t as bad as the north shore where there is 78 days strait of daylight.

Next we went down to the Spit.  It is basically this really shallow peninsula jutting out from the city of homer into the Atlantic ocean.  The small and muddy shores are lined with boating charters, gift shops, seafood restaurants all on wooden stilts.  Whatever space is not used up b these shops is used up by summer long transient campers that they call “spit rats”.  These people take  tent, some fishing gear, and leave behind all commitments to live on the beach of the spit.  Although it doesn’t seem like it would be the best place to live, after talking to a member that we met at church that was living down there it does seem like an adventure all in its own.  This member we met actually had hitch hiked his way up to Homer, Alaska from Santa Cruz, California.  Wow… even that for me is a bit too much.  But what a story! 

PAUSE right now I am trying to finish up this blog, but I am getting a weird case of vertigo or something because I know that I am sitting here on my bed typing and completely motionless but I am feeling like my entire body is spinning and moving in all sorts of different directions and with funky rotations.  Maybe this has to do with not sleeping for so long, or that dime bag of weed I just smoked, I am not sure… wow, I should really get some more sleep.  I will finish today’s blog tomorrow.

So coming back to Greg’s Grandparents house and spending Sunday night playing games and talking was kind of a culture shock to me in a way.  They live a completely different life that what I am used to, or even am slightly experienced with.  They live for the hunt, the catch, and the food that all of that brings.  But what nice people!  Bob, Greg’s grandpa, is letting us stay in their guest cabin and is showing us all around Alaska and all its beauty.  He has been showing us all the cool sites, the best fishing holes, hooking us up with boating charters, and lending us all the equipment we could want.  I can tell that we are going to have a really sweet.

Today I am setting out on the adventure of a lifetime, but it has also been hard saying goodbye to family and friends  while I run off to the chase adventure, education, and life across 10 countries, 4+ months, and 3 continents.  It is definitely bitter sweet.

Before leaving my family continued a family tradition, stinky cheese and bread that all the women of my family hate, and melted chocolate and fruit – otherwise known as Fondue Night.  Fondue night was my last hurrah with my family before leaving to Alaska for a week to fish and relax with some college buddies (Greg Isrealsen,  Jeremy Budge, and Tim Shurtz).  After which I will be getting on a plane to fly to Nanjing, China for a study abroad with BYU.  Then to finish it all off, I will be heading out to Europe and a backpacking adventure through 8 countries for a month with my best friend from my childhood, Lane Shumway. 

Leaving Salt Lake was really rough because for the past 3 months or so I have been spending every waking moment with Lindsey Smith, my girlfriend.  The summer has just flown by!  I can’t believe that we are already apart and are going to have to wait for another 4+ months to be able to see each other again.  But, I have told her that it just make the heart grow fonder.  Right?  I sure hope so!  I can’t wait to see her again.  Friday, after I had finished up some last errands like paying some lame parking and traffic tickets we spent the rest of the night together.  Since I had to wake up early for my flight we had the best breakfast (and possibly the most unhealthy breakfast) ever at Magelby’s Fresh.

Getting to the airport was fun, especially just talking and laughing and rocking out to some Lucky Boys Confusion and Black Eyed Peas.  Standing next to Lindsey in line waiting to get my boarding pass I think it really hit me how much I am really going to miss her.  Even though I am going to be out having fun and making some amazing memories, I will be just as excited to be home with her again. Needless to say, our goodbyes were hard.