I remember a talented motivational speaker asking what I wanted out of life, once.
He then encourage me to visualize it. “The key to attaining your goals is to envision them in such a clear, vivid way that you can’t help but start working toward it! Don’t just think of a red apple, taste it!”
It’s a little trite, but it’s obvious he was right.
In the scriptures, I’ve always been fascinated with the encounter of Jesus with the three Nephites, in which they were given what they most desired. Similarly, Nephi is asked in vision with angels, “what desirest thou?”
This presupposes that they knew what they desired, of course.
There’s something holy, I think, in meditating on what I most desire. It’s the same kind of holiness that emanates from pondering deep moral questions. It’s the same as the spirit of prayer.
Once you start making lists of desires, you start to ask—without meaning to—about the morality of it all. Do I deserve to have things? What right do I have to make a list of things I desire?
Today is Christmas. My wife is kind, and a much better gift-giver than I am. She asked what I wanted.
I had no answer.
Partly, this is because I have a very, very good life. I have the perfect job. My family brings me an incredible amount of joy. We aren’t rich by any means, but we have more than what we need. We don’t have enough to go on fancy trips, but we have now gone on two major trips (one on a cruise, one to Italy) because of the generosity of others. In short, I had no answer because I’m increasingly sated. I have enough. I am grateful for what I have.
But partly, I think, I had no answer because I had insufficient faith. Faith, to me, is in two parts: correct ideas, and a willingness to act on those ideas. I’m subject to a dearth of both.
As context, I recently visited a dear friend who has left the church. He is among my very best friends. He is smarter, wiser, and kinder than me. I love the gospel, and believe in it—and its truth claims. And yet, the absence of my most brilliant, most kind-hearted friends makes me wonder if I’m just missing it. Maybe I’m just cosplaying? Maybe I’m just really good at getting into character?
He is still just as good. Just as moral. His children are wonderful, and his parenting hasn’t changed. I worry somewhat for the generations that weren’t raised int he gospel, as I think there are small, hard-to-detect effects from such. But in the immediate term, everything is going just fine for him, and I couldn’t be happier. I make it a point to be accepting of others’ choices, and having passed through periods of doubt for myself, I aim to be as gracious as I can.
And yet, I was struck during this trip by something he said on a walk: that he no longer believed that one person can make much difference in the world. It was such a tragic thing to say. This is a friend who had ambition and desire and faith and wanted to simply make the world better. Now, something has changed. He’s just as good as he was before, but his faith is different. His conviction, his belief in himself—they’ve changed.
I was feeling a bit of this myself today. A number of leadership positions at work have come and gone, and all of them have gone to other good friends. They’ll all do well, but it’s hard not to feel that I’ve made some kind of mistake. I’m young, but so are my friends—and I was never even interviewed. I am throwing myself into my work (which I dearly love) but I confess to more personal inadequacy than I expected.
It’s somewhat worse than merely insecurity, however; it’s the feeling that I am not just lacking but rather that I am immoral.
Because my desires are wrong.
I have a good job. I have a good family. How arrogant is it to want more?
I prayed about it. On Christmas. I wondered about the morality of asking for more.
I suddenly imagined my son asking me for a Christmas present. Would I want to give him one? Would I teach him that such desires are wrong?
I want to recognize just how much I admire Buddhism, and how much there is to learn from another tradition. At the same time, this is one place where I take a different path: desire is linked to faith, and faith is the first principle of the gospel.
What do I desire?
I watched a talk by Stacy Taniguchi. He spoke of thriving. Of living your best life with the time you have. It made me cry, and I only watched 20 minutes. I realized that I really did have desires, and I wasn’t fully living up to them. I was beginning to believe, again, that it was wrong to desire.
As I prayed, I decided to list some of the things I desired.
Channeling Adam Smith, not only to be loved, but to be lovely. I was surprised by the intensity of my desire. I want to be a good person.
To thrive; to have a life of fullness, richness, and satisfaction. To feel that I am filling the measure of my creation.
For my family to likewise thrive. For my children and wife to have a life of richness and beauty.
For my friends to find peace in their decisions, and joy and fulfillment in life. Selfishly, I desire for my friends to find their full selves, and their full moral core. The selfish part is that I hope they will come back to church.
For a world that finds peace. True, enduring, profound peace.
To be an annoyer and irritant to the cause of misery and confusion. To be one of the very few whittling away at the foundations of the great and spacious building.
To lift my hand in building the New Jerusalem. To get to taste of her peace.
Most sacredly, to come into the presence of Jesus—and to be one whose character is such that I might be worthy of that presence.
As I thought on my desires, I had a feeling: you would be hard pressed to find a purer set of desires. And when I felt that, I suddenly felt that God wants us to desire beautiful, holy things. He takes a particular delight in giving us our hearts’ desire, and purifying our desires when they are impure.
President Nelson also gave a message. I thought it would be simple and… well, somewhat repetitive. Maybe it was.
It brought me to tears.
We need people who will reason, and not contend? I recently separated from a friend because it became clear that he was there only to contend.
We need peacemakers? Among all my desires is for a world that is at peace. Of all my desires, civility, kindness, decency are a part of who I am and how I operate.
He went on, we need men and women who serve the Lord. Who serve others. This is how we make a better world. (I am named after two men, both visionaries who saw a better possible world and had the faith to make their desire a reality.)
I went to church, and my heart was full. My children snuggled next to me. They told me they loved me. They sang the hymns. For a little moment, all was right in the world.
I leave today grateful for a God who reminded me that I am often wrong. That there is something better to be had than merely enduring life. That I may be a 37 year old, but I have a chance to lift and help and bless others, and there is nobility in that desire. What’s more, I am a man who desires to fill the measure of his creation, and that is a noble desire, even outside of serving others. That God rejoices in a dancer who dances, in a writer who writes, and in a healer who heals in the same way that I rejoice when I see my children create new games, make poems, or draw pictures.
I have a more correct belief today. May I have the courage to live up to it.