My stomach turned at the thought, lurching like dodging something as inevitable as the truth. Something I hadn't expected, but something I wanted, both at the same time. No, I definitely wanted to live in Provo this summer. An atmosphere of living growth, a fall backwards would become more difficult. It'd give me the chance to have a better job more suited to me while being part of an environment easier to live in. Also, like symbiosis, I'd be able to support and encourage Natalie as she did the same for me. It sounded like a bargain; there shouldn't be any question about it, right?
"I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents..." Nephi wasn't righteous by default. The goodliness of his parents allowed him the opportunity, however, to learn, progress, and grow. Isn't that just like me? Goodly parents. And I contribute myself into those who share a characteristic with Nephi, the most likened, compared, and thoroughly read prophet of the Book of Mormon. My parents, I can say of a surety, are righteous people.
A tornado is created when warm air and cool air find themselves misplaced and they begin a deadly dance to restore nature to the most stable configuration. My principles aren't nearly as precise as those of nature. My mind shifts with the breeze, my emotions with the humidity. Not literally, it's just poetic speech, yo. Two things that exist separately and completely, both correct: my wish to live in Provo, my wish to please my parents and follow their counsel. Both are notions guided by the Spirit, both are good things, both are air. One is cool, and the other warm; the designation is unimportant. Both are air. If partaken, they will bring life. They're just, you know, different.
A little deadly dance began in my soul. Small, but the great disasters of the world, too, are small enough to fit on our little globe. Calamity experienced is greater always than calamity observed. An itch on my brain. Someone had pulled the drain plug out of my tub full of excitement and expectations as I realized in the end, I should more greatly acknowledge my parents' advice, whatever end to the prospect of living out West that brought. In such a way were my thoughts funneled.
Is it wrong to take righteous advice? Never. Is it wrong to not follow righteous advice? Not always. Think of the first tornado, taking its path through the Garden of Eden: multiply; don't eat it! Both laws, both conflicting. Like a
Kobayashi Maru, what to do, what to do? No correct solution. "A test of character," Kirk called it. Then what's my character? Who am I?
Sucking it up, I decided who I was. I knew, for the day at least, I was a son first and the traveler to Provo second. The two things don't have to conflict. They may not, but I realize the spiritual security available to those following sound advice from their parents. Does this make me selfish? I hope not; it's been painful enough coming to this point without the pains of selfishness!
Humility is what I seek, a willingness to obey my sound-minded parents here on earth and directives from my Father on high, whatever the implications are. This is difficult! This is possible.
Natalie, I love you. See you this summer? It's quite possible. I love you either way, though. From afar and up close, we're still us. Whatever these next couple weeks bring, I know they'll still bring love.
And there's no conflict about that.