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Anyway this last weekend was something of a Garden of Forking Paths in my own life. For some reason I've been a bit hung up on both Modernism and Post-Modernism for a while. They both seemed to speak to me, a lot more then any of the romantics (William Blake exempted), or any of the art I looked at in my art history class (they didn't show any Blake :( ).
So this weekend my old friend Chad invited me to go spend it with him in Greensboro. There was a regional Young Single Adults activity for church, and it sounded like a good idea. So up I went. The first night I was kind of tired and not much fun, but Chad was a champ and didn't seem to mind. The next day we drove down to some little town north of Charlotte for the regional activity. I was enjoying hanging out with Chad and laughing with some of the people from Asheville (none of whom I remembered from my childhood there). Thanks to them I discovered that my childhood friend Cory was in Greensboro, just not at this activity.
The excitement over that discovery was interrupted by me hearing a voice yell "BEN!" It was my old co-worker and friend Jordan. We had a spontaneous man hug and spent a great deal of time hanging out and enjoying the unexpected reunion. I knew he lived on that side of the state but I didn't expect to see him. We had worked at the BYU Law School for over two years together, and had a blast!
The next day I got to see go to church with Chad and see Cory. It had been at least 7 years since I'd last seen him, and there was a lot of catching up to do. Unfortunately we caught up a bit loudly and embarrassed ourselves in Stake conference, but it was nice. I have some fond memories with him. Over all it was a great weekend with representatives from most of the major chapters of my life.
I got to thinking while Chad was helping a friend of his out with car troubles (He's a genius that way, I'm relatively useless.) I've been in a bit of a funk lately. Grad school didn't happen like I hoped it would, getting a job was tough as all get out and ended up with me living in my parents house again. I felt like my plan was falling apart. I felt like I was in a constant state of questioning my plans and their validity. I mean if I had a good plan, it should work right?
I've talked about post-modernism before (giving names to our fears is one of those things that let us surpass them, so I've used it to name a set of fears I have.) Nothing is scarier to me, and I think most Latter-Day Saints feel it too, then the idea that there is no plan. We are big on plans. From General Authorities talking about goals and tracking them and it helps us improve, to the big Plan of Salvation. A massive Plan that encompasses all of our mortal existence and beyond. Post-modernisms claim that there is no plan, and that everything just happens is a bit threatening, the first time I felt the implications of it my heart raced like somebody just slapped me in the face.
Modernism can be equally challenging, although on the surface it looks a lot more appealing. On the one hand can any argue that there is something seriously wrong with this world? That it's a sick, sad world? Daria references aside, it is becoming noticeably less comfortable and more scary to live in this world. But does this fear mean that something has gone wrong with the plan? Does it mean that things need fixed? Faith in revelation gives us some claim to a plan that tells us everything will fall apart before it all gets put back together again. The simple answer is, yes things need fixed, but no the plan isn't flawed.
So I've decided that live has me somewhere in between, and perhaps a student of philosophy could give me the name for it, but I'm going to call it modified modernism. Because the world is sick, and I should try my best to make a difference for good in the world, but in the end MY PLAN isn't going to be what wins the day, it'll be God's plan. My plan won't stand up to his plan, it just won't. Hopefully the next time I find myself sitting in a position in life that I never expected I hope I can sit at another Garden of Forking Paths, being able to see my past, embarrassing and proud moments together, and realize that life in all of it's bitter sweet nature will always take me down different Forking Paths then I expected, and that is part of the richness of the experience.
Robert Frost's famous line about the path untaken are beautiful, but I sometimes yearn for something as well done about discovering the path you set out on is completely different then you expected.
